Take Me To Wonderland

by GraceoftheWhiteNoise

After the escape from goblin town, Oin forces some medicine procured from Gandalf on an injured Thorin. Later in a drug-induced dream Thorin falls down the rabbit hole in pursuit of Master Baggins. Thorin as Alice and Bilbo as the White Rabbit. Uses Lewis Carroll's writing but follows the plot of the 1951 Disney movie.

This is going to be an Alice in Wonderland take with the characters of the Hobbit, the timeline which this occurs is set right at the end of the 1st movie and won't continue into the other movies. Basic plot is Oin gives Thorin some questionable medicine and afterwards he slips into a rendition of down the rabbit hole. It will be a mixture of both Lewis Carroll's books and of the Disney movie I adore (1951 film), and some of it will be straight from the book but it will mostly follow the plot of the movie. I don't plan on it being more than 12 chapters and was holding off uploading until I had a solid portion of the story completed. Feel free to review and shake your fist at my blatant plagiarizing.

-Grace-

Prelude

Thorin felt sore through and through. His face bruised and cut, ribs cracked and covered with warg teeth punctures, he had seen better days. But he had also seen worse, far worse, for they were alive and it was more than he had been able to hope all through those wretched mountains. So he pressed on past his wounds urging his company to the base of the carrock for a well-deserved night of rest.

They were without supplies but they would persevere, Gandalf claimed to have a friend nearby who would give aid, for a few nights of hunger and cold would not end them after facing stone giants, goblins, and orcs.

They settled in a small clearing and most of the company set off in different directions, some for firewood and others for food and water. Thorin, however, could do little more than collapse against a fair sized rock in exhaustion. Oin came over and fussed at his wounds but without supplies there was little relief he could offer him beyond bandages.

Bilbo Baggins was one of the first to return to their camp with an armload of firewood. Thorin thought vaguely that the Hobbit looked as Thorin felt, the Halfling's eyes dark-ringed and dim from lack of sleep with bruises beginning to form on his bare calves and forearms where he had rolled up his jacket sleeves. Bilbo glanced to where Thorin was sitting and smiled stiffly when he realised he was being watched, then returned to piling his wood for a fire.

Master Baggins was a curious creature, Thorin had realised, and now that he was not looking at him in disdain with the misconception of weakness, it gave Thorin a fresh perspective. For instance, had the Hobbit been without shoes this entire time? Thorin supposed he must have been because he could not remember otherwise. How would he find shoes big enough anyhow, the Hobbit's feet were terribly large.

Thorin understood his mind was wandering, it mattered not about the Hobbit's shoeless state, and as more and more of the company returned with various foraged items there was little time for such nonsense.

They ate very little that night but the fire was large and gave some comfort in its heat. The company was quiet, sectioned off into family groups counting Mahal's blessings that they had all gotten out of the caves and trees in one piece. Fili and Kili were pressed as close to him as they dare with his wounds, but kept silent for which Thorin was grateful, for he was in no condition to be holding conversation.

He could feel his head beginning to dip to his chest as sleep began to take over and he welcomed the relief from the pain knowing well enough he would feel worse in the morn. He had only just closed his eyes when he felt someone gently shake his shoulder.

It was Oin, he held a small glass in his hand, but his words were difficult to hear in his daze. It came from the Wizard for his pain, but as Oin un-corked the little vial Thorin felt panic, he trusted the wizard but not enough to drink his strange concoctions and especially not when it was green in color. But the vial was small, no thicker than a finger and not long either, and before he could voice his protest Oin had pressed it to his lips and tipped it into his mouth. It was bitter and thick on his tongue, he tried to spit it out but his mouth went numb and instead the vile liquid slid down the back of his throat.

He glared at Oin for being as bold as to force poison upon him but the deaf dwarf was already hurrying back to Gloin's side across the fire. His anger did not last long however, and whether it was from the exhaustion of his wounds or the questionable wizard potion, Thorin Oakenshield was quickly asleep, leaning against a rock and sandwiched between his nephews.