A/N This is a crack AU written somewhat seriously. Therefore, many liberties have been taken with ages and relationships. I will be bending the canon to fit it loosely into the new story line I have created, and therefore will take characteristics from the book canon and the movie canon as I see fit. As the Lord of the Rings characters will be appearing as well, obviously ages have been reworked, such as Gimli being Gloin's little brother rather than son.
Will attempt to update every Monday.
Hope you enjoy!
No one questioned how Bilbo Baggins came to live in an apartment on his own, despite his few years, but the arrangement was quite fine for everyone involved. No loud music or muffled banging could be heard at night coming up from the first floor where Bilbo lived. Many said he had the mind of a fifty year old trapped in a younger hobbit's body. The neighbors were happy that a Baggins remained at Bag End on the Hill, as the complex was called. A teenager he might be, but at least Bilbo was a Baggins. And the Bagginses were respectable, not only because they were rich, but because they never did anything unexpected or out of the ordinary. This is the story of how a Baggins had an adventure and found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected.
This tale begins on a certain afternoon one day in late August when Bilbo was preparing afternoon tea. He set out another cup and saucer, the special ones with roses on the edges from the set his aunt had given him last Yule, for he had rather rashly invited a Mr. Gandalf over. Gandalf was a wizard, but made living managing finances among them that of deceased Bungo and Belladonna Baggins. Bilbo found him eccentric and queer, but he was a necessary inconvenience. The scones had finished baking and the kettle began a frantic boiling when he heard a tremendous ring from the front door bell. With haste he pulled the scones from the oven and the kettle from the stove and proceeded to go skittering down the hall to answer the door.
"I am so sorry to keep you waiting!" he was going to say, when he pulled open the door to see it was not Gandalf at all. It was another teenager, tall and broad in the shoulders. He was well muscled with indecipherable tattoos spotting his head, which was shaved close to the scalp. He stood a little over a foot taller than Bilbo. It was a dwarf.
"Dwalin, at your service," he said gruffly.
"B-Bilbo Baggins at yours and your family's," an astonished Bilbo replied after a moment. He stepped back to allow the dwarf into his home, though not without a feeling of discomfort rising in his belly.
"No one here else yet." Dwalin stated, as he placed a leather jacket on the empty coat rack.
"What?" Bilbo began shrilly, "You mean that others-" He was interrupted by another sound at the door.
"Mr. Baggins?" It was another dwarf, shorter. He wore a prim maroon button up shirt and his light brown hair spiked out at the sides of his head. Bilbo could spot a few premature grey tufts. He held a more forthcoming gleam in his dark, friendly eyes.
"Yes!" Bilbo squeaked.
"Balin at your service!" the dwarf bowed with hand on his breast, "Ah, brother!" he exclaimed catching a sight of Dwalin. The new arrival ambled over and placed his own scarlet jacket on a peg, and proceeded to hug his brother, while Bilbo looked on fearfully. He quite liked visitors, but he did like to know them before they arrived and he preferred to ask them himself.
"You two are relations?" Bilbo asked, in an effort to engage his two guests.
"Yes we are," Balin replied, proudly, clapping his brother on the back, who nodded, "We both go to the school. I'm in my second year and my Dwalin here is in third."
"I'm in my first," Bilbo said. Balin raised an eyebrow.
"A young one? Gandalf must have much faith in you. Already committed then I presume? Have you transferred all your paperwork yet?"
"Committed? Paperwork?" Bilbo asked, voice rising in frantic confusion. Whatever were these dwarves doing here?
"He doesn't know." Dwalin observed.
"Ah a shame. But it is all very last minute. He'll find out soon enough. Hey, lad," he then said to Bilbo who was wringing his hands, "Are we to have tea?"
"Oh, yes!" Bilbo exclaimed, embarrassed to have lost his manners in the suddenness of the dwarves arrival. "Come along then," he managed to say after a deep breath. He ushered Dwalin and Balin out of the foyer and into the humble dining room, then scuttled off to the kitchen to find two sets more of cups, saucers and plates and perhaps another basket of seed cakes. He was just placing them at the table- where Balin and Dwalin were talking about boards of education and inheritances and things he did not understand-when there was another ring at the doorbell.
"Sounds like some six," Balin said, winking, "we saw them coming along behind us."
"Six!" Bilbo sat down and put his head in his hands. Would they all stay for supper?
The bell rang again.
And it was not six it was seven. He learned that Fili and Kili were both first years and Ori was a third year (though Bilbo suspected a lie, he looked far too young.) Dori, Nori, Oin and Gloin were no longer high schoolers. The former two had come to support their younger brother and the latter two were distantly related to the other dwarves so had a personal interest in the matter. What matter this was Bilbo had not quite figured out. He was kept very busy playing host: bringing cups and cakes and tea and beer - in the middle of the afternoon of all things! "I don't have any of that!" he had said indignantly when they had first asked for alcohol, "I am nowhere near of age to drink!" but the dwarves had stared at him until he had blushed and yes his parents had kept some old liquors downstairs he would just fetch them right up.
Then there was not a ring, but a sharp knock. By this point Bilbo was very angry. Whoever was at the door was undoubtedly scratching the beautiful green paint he had redone only last week. With the school year fast approaching he did not think he would find any time to sit and repaint it again. Confound these dwarves! he muttered to himself as he stomped to the foyer, throwing the door open only to have four more dwarves come tumbling upon his doorstep and a very amused looking Gandalf peering at him from under big grey brows.
It had been over two hours and the dwarves and Gandalf were still eating and drinking. Bilbo had had to run down to the local supermarket and bundled back ten new bags of groceries to feed them with more mince pies and tea and scones and jam and salad and cheese. He wondered if they noticed he had left at all. Eventually, he was able to sit down upon a stool in the corner where he sipped nervously from a teacup. The sky outside grew darker. At long last a tall, dark dwarf with a haughty expression stood.
"Let Thorin speak!" Gandalf boomed, and the dwarves hushed. This leader, Thorin, bowed to Gandalf.
"Although our object is well known to many of us, I believe an explanation is in order for both the estimable Mr. Baggins and for some of the younger members of our party." He glanced over at where Fili, Kili and Ori sat. Kili waved excitedly and Thorin's brow furrowed, but he turned back to address the whole room.
"We are a Host Club!" Thorin said and there was a crash as Bilbo fell off his stool.
"A what?" he stuttered from where he now sat on the floor, rubbing his head. This was only a question of politeness; Bilbo knew quite rightly what a Host Club was and was very certain he did not want one in his home.
"The Erebor Academy Host Club," Thorin repeated and Bilbo's eyes grew wide as sprang to his feet and sat primly upon his chair again. He recognized the name. This must be "the school" the dwarves had been referring to all evening. Erebor Academy was one of the most prestigious schools in the nation. The students were all of impressive lineage and rich families. He knew where and when respect was due.
"Thorin is heir to the line of Durin," Gandalf explained, "A great dwarf dynasty. It is they, in fact, who own Erebor Academy."
"We did," Thorin said coldly.
Bilbo remembered seeing a piece about the movement of Durin family assets in the paper. Two years ago, after the untimely death of what must have been Thorin's father and grandfather Thrain and Thror, a Mr. Smaug had taken over control of their real estate and academic enterprises.
"I did not know Thrain had a son."
"Most of the world doesn't," Thorin said, "My father did not marry my mother. Instead he kept her and me away, paying for a suitable lifestyle, but as something shameful to be kept out of the public eye. But with his death I should claim my rightful place as his only son and heir. As I should have always been!" he slammed a fist upon the table, "I shall receive my inheritance. Mr. Smaug, that dragon, refuses to grant me my rights under the pretense that I am not of age. But this is not all! He aims to take all my inheritance by challenging my legitimacy."
"There is not much he can do," Balin leaned over and spoke to Bilbo, "but we have a plan. Thorin turns eighteen at the end of the year. To reclaim his rights he will need powerful allies. Allies who will support him, allies who may hurt Smaug if he does not acknowledge the true heir and hand over the rights to Durin Enterprises."
"This year," Thorin continued, "I am enacting the Host Club to raise our favor among the great families of Middle-Earth. Many of their daughters-"
"And sons," quipped dwarf known as Bofur, who wore a fur lined hat with large ear flaps, absurd for late summer.
"And . . . sons," Thorin added, "attend the school. They are young and impressionable. But powerful. All who sit here are allies of mine. We must make ourselves famous. We must make ourselves well liked. We will put ourselves in the hearts and minds of the students of Erebor Academy, future leaders of the world!"
A loud cheer rose up from the table, which shook under the power of thirteen. Bilbo shivered at the power in Thorin's voice and the sound of loyalty.
"Oin, Gloin, Dori, and Nori will continue their work in the financial sector, providing funds for our mission which will be shuttled through Balin." He gestured toward the five mentioned. They raised their hands in acknowledgement. "They will also spread stories of my potential as a future leader. The rest of you will be part of my Host Club. Now Mr. Baggins!"
Bilbo squeaked.
"We have to make a rounded company of attractive males for the students to dream about, if our plan is too succeed."
"I don't really think that's the best wa-" Bilbo began.
"No," Thorin raised a hand. "Fili, Kili, come here." The two youngest dwarves jumped up from their seats and came to stand in front of Thorin. He looked at their tousled hair and stubble.
"Little devil types," he finally said, "maybe with a hint of forbidden incest."
"Incest? Can we do that?" Fili turned to his brother.
"Why not?" Kili's eyes grew wide and he began batting his eyes, "Am I really so ugly that you would not want me? Just because I don't have a beard!" He began to sniff heavily, as if holding back tears.
"Don't be stupid!" Fili cried, grabbing his brother. He swung him around, dipping him horizontal to the floor. One of Fili's arms supported his brother's back and the other hand reached out to stroke his cheek tenderly. "Those dark curls! No one could be as beautiful as you brother!"
"Oh, Fili!"
"All right, that's enough demonstration," the one called Dori huffed. The uppity dwarf was looking put out. Bilbo was relieved at the interruption; he had felt himself begin to sweat most uncomfortably. In a second Kili was out of his brother's arms, his submissive expression gone. Their default smiles returned, as they wandered back to their seats.
"Good show, boys," Nori said, clapping Fili on the back.
"You really think so?" Kili beamed. "We didn't practice or anything!"
"The ladies will love it," Balin assured, "Nothing more alluring than forbidden gay love between good looking young men. You will get lots of practice to find out exactly what makes the women swoon."
"I'm a bit jealous, I have to say," Bofur said, putting a hand under his chin in an exaggerated pout.
"You want to be doin' that with me?" Bombur snorted. Bofur laughed, "No, course not!" and swatted at his brother's stomach which caused an enormous belch to rise from the dwarf's depths. He let it go with strength and it rang throughout the room.
"Just the ladies all over you," Bofur said after his brother's burp had subsided, "Wouldn't mind that."
His brother Bifur, who sat next to him, made an indecipherable utterance.
"I know Mam said we couldn't," Bofur said, "I'm not begging to be a part am I? But she said we could still be around, you know, helping. And appreciating the merchandise." He winked at Kili. The younger dwarf found a whole in his napkin fascinating.
"And eating the food," Bombur added.
Bifur sighed and put an arm around Bofur. He would be around to watch out for his kin, his action said.
"Well, just stay out of the way of the real work," Balin said, "We still have Dwalin and Ori."
"Wild type, little boy cute type," Thorin said.
"S'rry we're late," Dwalin said, "Boxing practice ran over." He held his head up higher and cast an ambiguous gaze over the room.
The one named Ori, who wore a modest knitted sweater vest over a collared shirt and tie, blushed. "Oh ladies, I am sorry! It's really all my fault. I was worried I would not be able to see your pretty faces, but I saw a puppy on the way here and I had to stop and pet it . . ." he trailed off and clasped his hands in front of him. Earnest, big, brown eyes swept the same path as Dwalin's had.
"Very good," Balin said, "then there's myself-"
"Cool type."
"-and yourself."
"Princely type!" Fili and Kili chorused from their end.
Balin thought for a moment. "Yes. That might work. It would help our cause to portray you as rightful heir."
"I wish to reclaim my inheritance, not flaunt it and appear narcissistic. I am unsure. Mr Baggins, do you find me princely?" Thorin reached out and gently cupped Bilbo under the chin, jolted, but found he could not move away. "Imagine you are a customer."
Bilbo found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He stared into those dark, brooding eyes. And he could not imagine how anyone could not find Thorin princely. He was undeniably handsome. His confidant stature and strong jaw spoke ofa natural leader. "Um, yes perhaps," he breathed.
"That'll do then," Thorin smiled gently. Bilbo's chin felt cold as a hand left his face.
"So that leaves Mr. Baggins."
"Excuse me?" Bilbo cried, "What do I have to do with any of this?"
"Well, you are to be a part of our Host Club are you not?" Thorin said.
Gandalf coughed from his corner. "I'm afraid I did not fully enlighten Mr. Baggins as to the purpose of your visit this evening. You see, Bilbo, I have let you live in your apartment out of the kindness of my heart, but I am not made of money. Mortgage payment is fast approaching and the bank is asking. And did you not give a thought to your utility bills? I have been paying them these past few months. You will help Thorin in his quest and he will pay for everything you need so neither you nor I will end up in the poorhouse."
"But what if I don't want to help him? I can find other ways to get the money Gandalf, other than selling my body!"
"Ingrate!" Thorin said through clenched teeth, "You will be receiving the finest education in all of Middle Earth as a 'scholarship student,' with no cost to you!"
"Other than my dignity!" Bilbo glared at Thorin, who glared back.
"Listen, Mr. Baggins, Bilbo, may I call you Bilbo?" Balin spoke up. Bilbo was still huffing in fury, but he did so silently. "You are not selling your body. Merely, letting a few choice young men and women admire it. And perhaps engage in fantasies about romantic involvement with you, but none of that shall bother you. You will only need to be friendly and charming. And serve the tea. From this afternoon's observation I say you are a natural at that."
"Most hobbits are," the wizard said.
Bilbo wilted at the compliment. "I can do charming," he said, after a calming breath, "and I can serve tea. Is that really all?"
"Engage in some small conversation."
"Hmph," Bilbo leaned against the wall heavily. He thought of his cozy home, when it was not filled to the brim with dwarves. He thought of his nice little garden. He thought of sitting alone working steadily through a good book. He liked these things.
"Oh all right," he finally said.
The dwarves cheered.