Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.
Author's Note: Written as a fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.
Of Cuddles and Reassurances
Grass sways in the wind, flowers bend their heads, a silly hobbit song quietly fills the air as tiny hands work and brown eyes sparkle with pleasure.
The thudding footsteps, taunts and name callings, malicious laughter. The world spinning, blue above and below, mouth filling with water, limbs thrashing helplessly, sinking, blackness closing in...
Then it all rushing away, the world suddenly too bright and loud, heart racing painfully, lungs emptying themselves of water. Surrounded by strange grey travel-worn robes, enormous comforting hands.
It is the feel of those same robes brushing against him as he is lifted into the air which draws a small surprised yelp from Bilbo, snapping him back to the present, and he looks about wildly, fearfully. He stills when he is settled on a large lap and looks up to meet Gandalf's concerned gaze, bushy eyebrows furrowed. Without thinking, the hobbit buries his face in the wizard's large grey beard, hiding the sob and tears which threaten to come, but he can do nothing about the tremors shaking his body.
"There now, shhh. It is all right, my dear hobbit," Gandalf murmurs quietly, gently rocking Bilbo, one hand gathering him closer to himself while the other rubs soothing circles on the small creature's back. "Shhh."
Slowly the tenseness in Bilbo's body dissolves, the vividness of the past fades, and the lingering panic of the present lessens some. Inhaling deeply, he is comforted by the faint smell of Old Toby, the familiarity of Gandalf's presence, and the warmth of the campfire. Reminiscent of that long-ago day, when his mother, Belladonna, left him in the grey wizard's keeping as she bustled about, taking away his dripping things in search of dry ones. It had been deemed by the rest of the hobbit-folk quite a queer way to meet a wizard for the first time.
Eventually the hobbit draws back, and a wave of self-consciousness causes Bilbo to blush and duck his head as his Baggins side rears its head. To act like a wee lad again, cuddling with a wizard when he now was a respectable middle-aged hobbit! And to still be rattled over that fall. Only a puddle it was.
He must have said that last part out loud because a weary chuckle comes from the wizard.
"Well, now, Bilbo," and his tone is an odd mixture of fondness, exasperation, and thinly veiled anger. "Despite Thorin's choice of words, I believe it is safe to say it was a little more than simply a puddle. Falling in after that tumble down the hill...there is nothing to be ashamed of," he reassures.
"I-thank you," Bilbo says, flushing anew, shifting uncertainly. "Yet all the same... Would you be so kind as to set me back down, please? Do not wish to be—" He falls silent as he is settled more comfortably against the wizard's chest and his now thoroughly dry curls are pushed gently away from his face.
"I will thank you if you remain where you are. You have had quite a day. This will do you some good, at least help against you catching a chill. And this will help me to calm down. Valar preserve me from all stubborn, prideful dwarves with their lack of compassion and empathy!" The wizard's face clouds over.
"Not all dwarves, Gandalf!" Bilbo protests instantly, burying his nose in Ori's and Bifur's blankets.
"No, not all dwarves, my dear hobbit," the wizard agrees quietly after a moment.
Closing his eyes, the hobbit unashamedly rubs his face against the rough robes and tickling beard. Relaxing in the warm, safe embrace, he begins to nod off. It is not until voices start to rise in anger – and is one of them Bofur's?!– that his attention is caught and Bilbo sleepily opens his eyes.
THE END