"Thorin! This is incredibly boring. Why are we doing this again? You can purchase already caught fish from the market any time you like, why go to all the trouble of fishing for something that's easily accessible?" Bilbo Baggins complained to the silently fishing dwarf king.
"You asked me what I wanted to go do to relax and I chose fishing. Now quiet! You'll scare away the blasted creatures." Thorin scolded the exasperated hobbit, watching his line patiently as they both waited for some action to occur.
"I only wanted to be nice, and now I'm regretting it terribly! I find this activity deplorable!" Whined on the impatient hobbit after he had been quiet for only a moment. He was usually patient with other activities like cooking and crocheting; yes, the wee one knew how to crochet. Yet this unending staring contest with the water and his wooden pole, it was maddening!
"Try recasting your line, if you've absolutely a need to move about." Thorin grudgingly suggested to the annoying Bilbo, wanting him contented so that he'd shut his flapping lips.
Bilbo uncertainly pulled back his pole, getting the line out of the water and exposing his hook; empty. "The worm! Where's the worm gone, then?!" He prattled to the unamused dwarf companion. Thorin looked over and sighed, bending down to pick up one of the previously caught worms and handing its slimy body to the disgusted hobbit.
"Won't you bait it for me?" He pleaded of the other, Thorin rolling his eyes and saying nothing. "Oh, bother!" Bilbo tisked, pulling at the line until he had the hook in his little hands and started fiddling around with the wiggling worm.
"Hold still, you blasted thing!" He cursed the slippery creature as it kept slipping around. A sudden move made the hobbit accidentally pierce his own finger, making him bellow in pain at the tiny cut.
"Oh for the love of…!" Thorin sat down his pole and jerked the hobbits away from him, handling the baiting process with ease and then handing it back to the lightly whimpering Bilbo. "You're such a child, its just a cut, by Durin!" Thorin berated the tender hearted fellow, marching back over to his line and trying to salvage his day and enjoy the activity at hand.
Bilbo mumbled impolite words as he attempted to cast the line out, his arms jerking back to give it a good toss and in his gusto, the hobbit tossed the complete pole into the lake.
The splash alerted the watchful king, his eyes turning beady as he took in the sight of Bilbos pole sinking into the lake.
"Damn it, Bilbo!" He cursed his companion as he sat down his pole once more, and began to wade into the cool water to retrieve the confounded fishing rod.
Bilbo tried very hard not to laugh at the dwarfs performance as he waded out into the lake, Thorins little comments to himself about how cold the water was amused the hobbit. It got even funnier watching Thorin reach with his arm way down low and start physically searching for the lost pole, his long beard and hair dipping unfortunately into the cold water.
"This is the last time I take you fishing!" Thorin promised in a yell towards Bilbo as he continued to search for the item.
His booted foot hit an extremely slippery rock, within a flash the dwarf was dunked into the water completely. He popped back up like a wet, angry cat. Growling loudly and acting as if he could take on the whole lake in a fist fight. Thorins body flopped around uncertainly until his left hand came up with a pole in it, his attention now on the busting out laughter of his companion. With eyes that screamed "you're in so much trouble", the king began sloshing through the water towards Bilbo.
"Now Thorin, I never asked you to go retrieve that pole, don't get mad at me!" Bilbo backed away from the shore as his frowning and drenched friend began to exit the cold waters.
"Come here, Bilbo. I'd like to show you a fishing technique. It's called, 'I'm going to shove this pole up your arse!'" He meant to move quickly, but with his clothes completely drenched, he was not as fast as he could have been. Angrily chasing Bilbo with the pole shaking like a spear in his hand, ready to be forcefully used on the bad luck hobbit.
"Come on, Thorin, don't be such a wet blanket!" Bilbo teased, only making the dwarf more pissy and making his legs move a little faster in his growing anger.
The fleeing Bilbo raced past Dwalin who had just come back from a rabbit hunt, the carcasses being carried over his shoulder as he watched uncertainly as Bilbo ran away from the pursuing king.
"Chasing a hobbit?" He called towards the drenched Thorin as he splish splashed by.
"He's a dead hobbit when I get my hands on him!" Thorin raged as he continued his chase.
"Sure, I'll believe it when I see it." Dwalin spoke to himself, knowing how they usually fought but eventually got over their silly bouts. It was never a dull moment between those two, that was for certain!
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The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien