Disclaimer: No ownage on my part.
A/N: Because hobbits are awesome! And the lives of dwarves need sparing!
The greed and the nerve of dwarves!
Bilbo Baggins did nothing but seethe as he mounted his newly gained pony, gripping the reins with such fury that his poor beast neighed in distress.
The hobbit had done nothing but saved their sorry arses time after time, from spiders and elves and armies of foul creatures. He had played part in getting rid of the dragon inside their precious mountain and had it not also been he who had enabled any kind of peace negotiations between the fairer races.
But Thorin, stubborn and unforgiving, had the nerve to feel forever sore about Bilbo stealing the Arkenstone no matter how smart a move it had turned out to be. So because of that, no matter if he had gotten his life spared and throne back, the Dwarf King had told the hobbit exactly where the exit of his mountain lied.
Granted, to keep his supposed honour, the dwarf had allowed Bilbo his share of the treasure.
"Take whatever you wish but the heart of the mountain, you little thief. Though keep in mind that we have but one pony to spare as your carrier for it," the King Under the Mountain had smirked.
Thief indeed! Bilbo had almost been red with anger, so insulted had he felt, and so he had done well in playing the thief he had signed up to be.
He had started by stealing a kiss from the king, freezing Thorin in place with confusion. And to double the royal matter he had stolen one from Fili as well, conveniently both near and in the line of vision of his stubborn mule of an uncle. There had been no stealing from Kili who more than less squealed in glee and smirked one against his lips on his own initiative. As the hobbit grumbled his way out of the royal halls he had even taken one from Bofur just for good measure.
"I share your sentiments, Bilbo Baggins," said Gandalf beside him, sitting on his high horse with a merry look on his face. "I think I've had quite enough of dwarves for a while as well."
For a lifetime, perhaps, Bilbo muttered to himself, though an unbidden smirk made its way onto his lips. For he had not stopped with the stolen kisses, no. With the aid of invisibility he had also taken Thorin's kingly coat trimmed with fur as well as a crown fit for any king, both of which he was wearing as he trotted towards the Shire with Gandalf at his side.
"I'll say, this is most amusing for me," said the wizard. "Pray tell, what else did you see in your right to take?"
"His royal undergarments," answered Bilbo, his back straight and tone as grave as Thorin's in his moments of melancholy. The mock did not escape the old, knowing wizard who found it in himself to laugh as if he was young again.
"And what on Middle Earth are you planning to do with them?"
Bilbo did not answer with mirroring mirth as Gandalf had expected, but rather with resolution of an irritated hobbit. "I took them so that, assuming he will follow me to the Shire to beg back a piece of his dignity, he'll have something to pull up a flagstaff as a sign of surrender when I make him yield."
Gandalf did not laugh, for it was no jest, and instead he made a note how much of an unexpected force a hobbit scorned could be.
And even decades and decades later, the former Grey now White wizard, ancient and knowledgeable beyond belief, stood amazed at the sight of four hobbits. He stared at two idiot cousins who had taken part in the conquest of Isengard and defeat of the Witch King of Angmar, as well as the pair of a Master and his Servant both of whom had trotted into the midst of their enemy to throw Sauron's most powerful weapon into the fiery pits of Mount Doom.
"It is a blessing," the wizard said finally, "that you folk are born with such peaceful natures."
The hobbits blinked in confusion before dismissing what he had said as the obvious and continued their merry making while Gandalf, more to himself than anyone else, muttered, "no matter how much one King Under the Mountain might disagree."
The End
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