A/N: Written for a prompt over at hobbit_kink meme over at LJ:
Hobbits are very strange creatures- once they give their heart (to lovers, friends or family), they would do anything to protect their loved ones. But if they are betrayed or hurt very badly, their hearts shatters, and they can never trust again those who hurted them. Not out of distrust, but is biologically imposible for them to love again someone who hurt them too deep. Bilbo thought of the Company as his family, and he would anything for them. But when the Arkenstone fiasco happened, the thirteen dwarves snapped at him, screaming the must hurtful things (Maybe even physically hurt him). And he knows it was under the effects of the gold-sickness, so he holds no grudge against them. But they broke his heart; and even if he is polite towards them and acts friendly, he would never loved them the way he used to. Aka- The relationship between dwarves - Bilbo get ruptured, and there is nothing that can be done to fix it.
Sounded like the right amount of angst. I really need to start picking more cheerful prompts D:
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my cup of tea against insomnia.
Sticks and Stones
For decades, Bilbo had thought only a few people his family - mostly his Took cousins, and only handful of his Baggins relatives, since they tended to look at him funny, given his parentage. But those thirteen dwarves wormed their way into his heart during the months of the journey to Erebor with what their characters showed - they could be fussy about particular things or people, they felt their emotions deeply and fiercely, they took offense at nothing and everything, they cared about something and didn't give a damn about other things.
And still they shattered his heart on that fateful day, leaving only broken pieces in his chest, as he hung from Thorin's grasp, and nobody did anything to save him; they just stood there, watching their King attempting to strangle him as he struggled for breath, until Gandalf's voice thundered over the ruckus and made Thorin release him.
Looking into Gandalf's eyes later, the wizard knew, and hugged him tightly in the privacy of his tent, as the hobbit cried his pain out.
-o.O.o-
It's only after the battle that the dwarves realize that something is very much different about their burglar.
Their burglar.
The hobbit that ran after them, his contract a flag in his hand, as he called after them that he signed it. The hobbit that fought against their opinion about his usefulness. The hobbit who would risk his life repeatedly for their sake. The hobbit they wronged so, but who still remained near them, so they could make amends.
But where there was warmth in his eyes as he gazed at them before, and it was not there anymore. Instead, his eyes held the look of polite indifference when he spoke to them; his body giving away vibes of wariness and distrust, no matter how much they tried to make their amends.
He accepted their apologies with a small, polite smile, but when any of them acted around him as they did before the Arkenstone, he would grow cold. Kíli's or Fíli's arms around his shoulders no longer drew the reaction of fond eyeroll, instead, all they received was an annoyed shrug, and Bilbo quickly excusing himself, citing some reason why he was needed elsewhere . Bofur's playful remarks were met with blank stare and raised eyebrows. Gloin's speeches of his beautiful wife and beloved son are met with polite interest, but none of that friendly curiosity that used to underline those exchanges.
And the list continued, making the dwarves feel worse and worse about the whole situation. Unknowing what else to do to make Bilbo really forgive them, they went to Gandalf and asked their questions, only to have the wizard, who by some miracle had been still around as well, gaze at them sadly.
"When do I think will Bilbo treat you as he did before the Arkenstone? I'm sad to say so, but... that was, only to never be again."
"Stop with the cryptic speeches, wizard, and give us a plain answer," snapped Dwalin, earning himself several glares from his companions. One didn't just hurry a wizard into something, least of all a straight answer. Gandalf felt that as well, since he made several smoke rings, before he opened his mouth to answer.
"You see," he started slowly, his eyes looking at each of the company, "hobbits are amazing creatures. Not only they have all sorts of hidden talents that show when you least expect it to happen; they also have hearts that beat for those they view as a family - as long as their trust into those of his family is unbroken, so are their hearts. But once this trust is broken, their hearts are shattered beyond repair, rendering them unable to trust those again, no matter how much they would wish it. Their hearts, broken to pieces, would not allow it."
"So you mean..." asked horrified Ori, unable to finish the sentence, tears welling in his eyes.
Gandalf nodded. "Yes, young Ori. Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names won't hurt you. But this time, you carved those names into stones you afterwards threw at Bilbo, and this is the result."
His only reply was silence, following after him as he left the room in search of the hobbit they talked about. It was time to return to the Shire.
-o.O.o-
Bilbo noticed something strange about the dwarves - for all their attempts to gain his favour again, the dwarves almost all too suddenly stopped, opting to eye him from afar, making the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. They said they farewells at the gates on the day he and Gandal chose for their leave, promising to each other to write as often as the ravens would be able to carry the messages about progress in rebuilding Erebor, while Bilbo promised to write about his life in the Shire.
It was only after they neared the Lake, that there were sounds of horse hooves hitting the ground at rapid speed, and when they turned around, they saw Bifur, who had been attempting to catch up with them. Reaching them, he reached into one of his saddle bags, pulling a small package, wrapped in patchwork-like piece of cloth, saying something in the language of dwarves, adding some gestures as well, before he looked at Gandalf, his eyes pleading him to translate what he just said.
Gandalf smiled into his beard, as he watched Bilbo unwrap the gift - a small pendant, a stylized heart, carved out of wood, with various floral designs, sat in his palm as he looked at it incredously.
"Master Bifur here says that words can't say how much sorry he and the rest of company is over breaking your trust in them. But Bifur here hoped that you would consent to carry this close to you. Your heart can't be mended, but Bifur wanted to give you one of his own; creation out of wood made with you in mind."
He felt his lips form a small smile as he gazed upon the pendnt. "Thank you," he said, looking up to look into Bifur's eyes. "I will cherish it, always."
His heart had been broken and couldn't be mended; yet, it could be warmed by the thought of someone thinking of him, and wishing him all the luck in the world, even if they had been unable to voice the words.
