Title: The Crown and the Hobbit
Author: Prentice (slyprentice)
Category: The Hobbit
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriages, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Gender Change (Fem!Bilbo)
Ship: Undecided (opinions welcome)
Overall Rating: Mature
Warnings: None so far but this is subject to change in the future.
Author's Note: I started this as a challenge to myself - I almost never write mainstream romance and feel awfully awkward when I do - so here I am. I haven't decided yet what pairing this will be - I'm torn between Thorin/Bilbo, Fili/Bilbo/Kili, or Thorin/Bilbo/Fili/Kili - so opinions or requests are welcome. That having been said, I can't promise when the next chapter will be posted as I'm only working on this in my spare time.
Summary: It was the blue and silver tartan that finally did it.
Chapter 1
It was the blue and silver tartan that finally did it.
Body trembling with barely suppressed anger, Bilbo Baggins gathered up the carefully packaged fabric and threw it to the ground, something visceral and ugly coiling in her gut when it puddled in a messy beautiful heap near her hearthrug. It clashed horribly – the blue and silver nearly fluorescent in their vibrancy, especially against her poor rug, which was a worn muddy green she remembered from throughout of her childhood. For a moment, a part of her – a petty, ugly part she wasn't very proud of even in this moment – wanted to stomp all over it, to rumple and crease the fabric beyond recognition.
She wouldn't do it, though. No matter how terribly angry she was. It wouldn't make her feel any better – if anything, it'd only make her feel worse once her anger had cooled and she realized how utterly foolish she'd been for doing it – and it wouldn't change anything.
Even if she gave into temptation and threw it in the fire, watched it burn and smolder until it was nothing more than ash, nothing would be different. She would simply be given another – or worse, given nothing at all – and be forced to endure the embarrassment of having to explain why she needed it. No one, not even her kindly cousin Rosemary, who had watched her worriedly from across the room, her own folded tartan in hand, as Bilbo had received her own bundle of fabric, would believe that it had simply caught fire by accident.
Shoulders slumping, Bilbo sighed, hands lifting to scrub irritably at her curls. They were forever getting in her eyes these days. Shorter than they'd been only a week ago, she was still getting used to the lack of weight and the way she couldn't seem to tame them.
Why she had ever allowed Lobelia's snotty opinions about her appearance – or lack thereof – bother her she didn't know. It wasn't as if she wanted to impress anybody. In fact, if anything, she wanted to do the opposite, if only to get out of this – this – ridiculous situation!
"Oh, bother and botheration!" She moaned, wishing, not for the first time that she had been born a boy instead of a girl. At least then, she would have more of a say in her future, even if it were only to have the ability to say 'no' in just this one thing. Though, really, with the way that things were going for her lately, she likely wouldn't have been able to say 'no' then either.
Hands dropping to her sides, Bilbo shuffled her feet, glaring balefully at the still beautifully heaped fabric on her floor – she still really wanted to stomp on it – before squaring her shoulders and marching towards the kitchen. There was only one thing this situation called for – a crispy blueberry crumble – and she was going to make it. Ilúvatar help anyone who tried to stop her.
It was no secret in the Shire that the Fell Winter had changed everything. No one liked to speak of it, of course. It was a painful topic, one that often brought forth foul memories in those who'd live through it. Even so, every Hobbit, young and old alike, knew that that winter had changed everything for them. They, like their ancestors before them, could not be the same hobbits they once were. They were fundamentally changed and so too were their lives. It was not a terrible hardship, this change. Hobbits were a remarkably resilient race and though time and historians often forgot this fact, they were also astoundingly adaptable. This was, in no small part, due to their Wandering Days, when their ancestors had pushed steadily westward in search of new homes, new prospects, and better lives.
Adaptability aside, however, change as a whole was not entirely without its problems. There was, after all, an inherent shift in proprieties when change took place. An adjustment, of sorts, that would often settle into place before anyone was settled into it.
One such change had happened soon after the end of that horrible winter.
Though hardy creatures, the Hobbits of the Shire were not like their ancestors of old, who had once the ability and skill to defend themselves from the outside world. Indeed, the Hobbits of the Shire were not fighters, at least not in the sense that most people meant the word, and had, during that terrible winter, suffered for it. They had no one to blame, of course; life was not so very dangerous in the Shire to need trained warriors in their midst and though there were some odd-few who enjoyed tales of sword fights and battles of kingdoms old, very few actually had a marked interest in learning how to fight.
The worst most young hobbits had to face was a stern talking-to by their mother or father and being sent to bed without dessert. As for the adult hobbits, the most trouble that could be found was usually a lack of pipe weed, a missed meal, or an unpleasant relation stopping in unexpectedly for tea. Hardly enough to merit a training session of any kind, much less one that involved weapons.
All the same, it was due to this very fact that a change happened. It was, some would say in years to come, a wise one, though there were plenty to say the opposite as well. It was a simple change, ingenious really, and went as followed: any and all unmarried hobbits of appropriate age and standing would be considered eligible for courtship every following season of their majority and be sent for review should another race – be they Man, Dwarf, or Elf – take an interest.
Again, it was a simple change, but one that had a profound effect, on not only hobbits but also other races as well. Dwarves and Men especially flourished under this new adjustment; fore it was widely known that dwarf-women were few and had an especially hard time carrying children to term, while Men had remarkably short life-spans and would often seek a Hobbit-spouse in order to lengthen the lives of their children and thus extend their ability to rule whatever lands they claimed.
It was, of course, not a perfect solution. Though tales were few, there were some unhappy cases. Poorly made matches or hastily made decisions. Loveless marriages that withered and died short and poignant deaths before they'd even truly begun.
Still, it was a chance – a change. One that Hobbits had badly needed after the horrors of the Fell Winter. No one could deny that, not even if they wanted to, and it was generally accepted that all Hobbits would abide by it.
Unfortunately, at least for the Thain of the Shire, no one had bothered to mention that to Bilbo Baggins.
tbc