Exploring Castles Chapter 1, a hobbit fanfic

"Exploring Castles"

By: Felicity Sapphire (e-mail: frozensapphire )

Fandom: The Hobbit

Rating: M to E

Genre: General, Romance

Characters: Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield

Warnings: Mature Content

Summary: "We all become great explorers during our first few days in a new city, or a new love affair." Mignon McLaughlin

In the summer before his thirty-third birthday Bilbo Baggins spent much time worrying about his coming of age, while his Took cousins mostly wanted him to spend the time thinking less of his respectable Baggins side, and rather be more like the Took he once was, while he still can.

What eventually convinces him is the blacksmith that has moved into the old forge in Hobbiton. Their relationship soon grows, from storytelling and sharing pipes, to become an adventurous and secretive summer romance that Bilbo keeps behind the backs of his friends and beloved family.

But that was all it was to Bilbo: a short, passionate affair meant to be enjoyed in the moment. And when Thorin leaves in August, vowing that he will return, Bilbo goes on with his life, sometimes offering absent smiles to the memories of his adventurous summer. He was simply not expecting that Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, would turn up twenty years later and ask they be wed.

Cue meddlesome wizards, prying hobbits, secrets unveiled and loyal dwarves determined to bring the consort home to Erebor.

A/N: This will be my little WIP/Pet Project for some time to come. I love the stories out there featuring a young, slightly Tookish Bilbo, and this is my take on him. I'm not sure whether I'm making this a "Erebor Never Fell" AU (I probably am).

The story will proceed in three parts, starting with the summer Bilbo and Thorin first met, then moving on to Thorin's return and the complications upon that.

There will be a lot of characters from the Shire, and a lot of Bilbo's family will be mentioned or play bigger parts in this. One of them is Adalgrim Took, a character I find most amusing because he, like Bilbo, is half-Baggins, half-Took (and is related to Bilbo on both sides of the family). If you're having trouble keeping track of them all I recommend you google the family trees. They've been very helpful to me!

I hope you enjoy "Exploring Castles"!

Chapter 1: Reunions, Fools of Tooks and Summer Meeting

July, TA 2941

When heavy knocks had fallen upon his door that evening, right as he was about to eat his hard earned supper, Bilbo Baggins had expected many things.

He had expected that, imaginably, a pack of fauntlings might have snuck out of their soft little beds in their eagerness to hear the end of the tale he had started for them in the marketplace that very afternoon; perhaps it was Holman Greenhand who had come to inform him of a sort of emergency gardening issue, perhaps an infestation of rabbits or racoons, or something equally exciting; with distaste he considered that it might be Lobelia who had come by uninvited to sneak around his home, and size up his walls, in order to contemplate which of her furniture would fit better in which room; and by the goodness of Eru, he would not be surprised if a wizard – be grey or brown, or even blue – had come knocking, for it would not be the first time!

Yes, Bilbo had expected all of these scenarios, and many more – featuring rangers and other big-folk, perhaps even an elven messenger coming through from Rivendell – but never, not even in his wildest imagination of dragons and whatnot, had he expected this.

At first, all that had struck him when he opened the door was that his unexpected visitor was far too short to be of the big-folk, yet far too stout to be a hobbit. His mind had barely gotten a moment to search for something familiar in the shapely face and sharp nose, or the stout bearded chin and the long dark hair, before his eyes clashed with a striking shade of blue he never had allowed himself to forget.

He felt a sudden rush of air enter his lungs as he gasped, only to be stuck there as he forgot how to breathe. A thousand butterflies hatched in his belly, tickling and pestering until a name finally reached his lips and came out on a shaky breath, as if he could not believe that it could be the truth. "…Thorin."

No, it couldn't be… but what if it was?

The dwarf looked back at him with a profound fondness, his bearded face twitching into a gentle smile that spoke of relief, hope and remembrance. A deep voice resonated though the evening air as the dwarf bowed his head, never breaking their gaze, and spoke: "At your service, Bilbo Baggins."

With those words, spoken in this familiar tone, the last of his suspicions were vanquished from his heart, and he knew it was true. Thorin was in Hobbiton, after all these years, knocking on his door – in the middle of supper!

Bilbo suddenly remembered how to breathe again, and after some shaky intakes of air he regained his ability to speak as well.

"I can't believe it… you, you're here." The grin growing with the words were threatening to split his face as he rambled on, his gaze unable to stay anywhere for long but always finding its way back to Thorin. "…in Hobbiton! Goodness, Thorin—this late! No one comes visiting at this hour, except for… well, goodness, who cares about that – I haven't seen you since… it's been, what... well, twenty years! Oh, more or less I reckon, but who's counting!"

"It would be eighteen, next month," Thorin supplied softly, and Bilbo couldn't help but chuckle.

"Of course you'd remember, you stubborn dwarf… but where are my manners!" Bilbo exclaimed, stepping aside to usher his unexpected guest into the entrance hall. "Please, I beg you, come in! I was just about to sit down for supper, and – oh, goodness, why didn't you tell me you would come? I would have had something prepared for you, baked one of those blackberry pies you like so much – assuming you still like them, of course. Nearly two decades! I would be rather offended if you wouldn't share a meal with me now!"

"You know that I could never refuse," said Thorin, rather offhandedly, but there was an incredible happiness in his smile as he accepted the offer. As he stepped into Bag-End and hung his cloak on a hook with a familiarity, as if he had never forgotten, there was such a familiar twinkle in his eyes that, for a moment, Bilbo felt he was eighteen years younger.

June, TA 2923

As Bilbo tied another knot with his rope, he felt the nagging sensation in is belly had become too abundant to ignore for much longer. He had been given several opportunities through day to voice his concerns – from the very moment Adalgrim had first thought of this little trick – but he had not done so.

Now, however, at the very place that would be the scene of the crime, he turned to his cousin with doubtful eyes and told of his troubles. "I don't think this is a very good idea."

Adalgrim Took snorted, not even looking up from his own knots as he exclaimed, "Nonsense! This is a perfectly sound plan!"

"Except it's not, and we really shouldn't be doing this," Bilbo murmured, gritting his teeth and clenching the rope tighter in his grip.

At his tone Adalgrim stopped his own work and looked to his cousin with a raised eyebrow. "Bilbo, what has gotten into you? We used to do this all the time!"

"You know what, that's exactly it!" Bilbo answered; his expression was anxious as he looked to the other hobbit. "We used to do this many years ago, while Sig and I were still dangling from your shirt sleeves! You might not have read though our birth registers as of recently, but I will happily be the one to inform you just turned forty-three, and I will be thirty-three, come autumn."

"What of it?"

"What, of it? We are growing old!" Bilbo reasoned, but Adalgrim simply grinned back at him.

"That is exactly why we are doing this!"

Before Bilbo could argue any further, Sigismond Took came striding through the bushes, huffing and carrying two holed crates, each containing three cackling hens. "A little bit of help here, lads?"

Adalgrim quickly got up and assisted him in putting the crates down to the ground, already seeming to have forgotten about his and Bilbo's dispute. "Alright, two down, one to go… Hey, where are Flambard and Ferumbras?"

"Right around the corner – they've got the last crate," Sigismond shrugged. "Where are the Brandybucks?"

"We sent one down the road to do some scouting. The others are setting up across the road – behind those bushes over there," Adalgrim explained, pointing over to the grand undergrowth down by the road, opposite of their location. If they looked carefully they could spot a pair of fussy feet or curious heads ducking in and out of the leaves as their Brandybuck cousins prepared their part of the trick.

"They've done a mighty fine job, too," Sigismond praised, and Bilbo could not help but roll his eyes with and 'humph' with a sort of aversion for the entire business. Sigismond caught it, and looked warily between his two cousins. "What are you two on about now?"

"Bilbo's just having some nerves is all," Adalgrim shrugged nonchalantly, to Bilbo's annoyance.

Sigismond laughed in disbelief. "Bilbo…? Really! Our Bilbo, the master of sneak and mischief! We are talking about the same Bilbo? The one who let those pigs loose in the middle of the Tuckborough market, on the day of Old Took's party! Four of Maggot's pigs, painted with one, two, three and five—I think they still haven't stopped looking for number four! Genius, that was!"

Bilbo cracked an awry smile at the story, but quickly squashed his feeling of pride to listen to his more logical side. "All I'm saying is that we're no longer irresponsible tweens and little fauntlings that could get away with pinching an entire batch of cherry pies! Well, except Ferumbras… goodness, what would Fortinbras say if he knew what we are teaching his son? He's only seven!"

"And already a true Took!" Flambard Took chose that moment to stomp through the bushes, carrying the last crate and the little faunt in question, squealing from where he was hanging around Flambard's neck. The older hobbit laughed as he put down the crate and helped his cousin slide to the ground, although little Ferumbras was already begging to be let back up. "His father would be proud! I'm sure he'd even be here himself, if he could!"

With their heirless uncle Isengrim now as Thain, after the Old Took passed away at quite a grand age, it had already become clear that it would be his father, and then Fortinbras himself, who would inherit the title. Their oldest cousin had to give up on running around the fields with the other Tooks only few years into his thirties, and traded in his title as Trick Master for books on Shire history and politics.

Sigismond and Adalgrim agreed with Flambard's statement, and the first mentioned turned to Bilbo. "Why the sudden change of mind?"

Adalgrim was quicker to answer, and mocked a serious tone as he said: "I'll bet uncle Bungo sat him down and gave him the talk again – 'you, young gentle-hobbit, are a Baggins of Bag-End'!"

The Tooks laughed merrily at his quite accurate impression, and Bilbo bit his bottom lip tightly, partly to prevent himself from laughing and partly because it is the truth.

Flambard observed this and took it upon himself to cheer him up. "Oh dear cousin, you will have more than enough time to settle down and be respectable for years to come! Every young maiden in the West Farthing is just waiting for you to turn your gaze on them!"

"And assuredly the other Farthings, too!" Sigismond commented, but then got a look of mischief about him as he feigned a besotted sigh and exclaimed in a high-pitched voice: "Oh, Bilbo Baggins! He is so handsome–"

"—just like his Took cousins!" Flambard shot it, causing good cheer among the Tooks.

"—and his family is so respectable!" Sigismond continued while resting his hands delicately on his cheeks and fluttering his eyelashes. "Oh, if I only knew what will make him yearn for my company, what flowers he prefers in a lady's hair, and what makes his heart beat for mine…"

"—and what makes him loosen his bracers!"

At that they all fell over howling with laughter at that, leaving Bilbo to scowl at them all. It was not unknown that he had quite a few admirers, but his own disinterest in engaging with most of them, other than for dances at parties and presents for birthday celebrations, had made the whole ordeal quite a joke among his Took cousins.

Sigismond was the first to recover, but there was still a tear in his eye as he returned to his argument. "Surely, you enjoying your last summer before coming of age will not ruin your reputation forever. You've been so caught up in your respectability these last years; you've had no time to enjoy our little ruckuses every now and then!"

"I'm a Baggins!" Bilbo tried, but he was already beginning to see which path this was taking, and was right when Adalgrim spoke next.

"And so am I! But we're also Tooks!" he argued, now sounding quite serious. "We're the last of our generation. Ferumbras is but seven like you said, and aunt Mirabella's army of Bucklanders are but fauntlings and young tweens! It was always the five of us, growing up, playing mischief and running through the forests…Sig, Flambard, and you and me – and Fortinbras. Now he has a faunt, and our little Bilbo is coming of age." He smiled, somewhat nostalgically. "This is all for you, cousin. You can't blame us for wanting to finish your last summer of tween-hood with a blast, eh?"

And to that Bilbo could only swallow heavily as he remembered the good old days when they had all been the masters of the Farthings, spending their days jumping brooks and crossing rivers, plundering fields and getting away in the thick forest underbrush… and then he nodded. Just for the summer – this last one, he promised himself to appease his Baggins side that had now become nothing but a whisper in the back of his mind.

Adalgrim grinned, obviously pleased with his victory. "Good! And I promise you it will be safe. No one gets hurt – really! After all, I wouldn't want auntie Bella on my back for getting you into trouble, yeah? We might be Tooks, but we know where the line goes."

Sigismond and Flambard voiced their agreements, a sigh of relief on their breaths.

All the arguing was soon forgotten as they set up the crates facing the road bellow their little outlook, readying themselves for the signal that would be sent when someone was spotted coming down the road. The plan was fairly simple: they would unleash the frenzied hens on whoever was passing by, watch the hysterical scene unfold and steal away into the forest upon the confusion before they could be caught. Bilbo, after going over the plan in his head, muttered to Flambard: "Farmer Maggot is never going to forgive us for nabbing his hens. How are we even going to gather them up again?"

"No worries. If there's one thing these bird brains know it's how to find their way home," Flambard reassured him. "He won't even notice they were gone in the first place!"

And yet, although that trouble would be solved, Bilbo couldn't shake the feeling that something would still go terribly wrong.

They sat still for a while after that, leaning onto trunks and stones, occasionally joking around, but mostly just resting and listening to the noises of the woods. It was quite a beautiful summer day. It was a comfortable heat, warmth that didn't suffocate the way the scorching July weeks did, and the forest floor was kept cool by the crowning leaves above them. The sun shone through the treetops, which waved with the fresh breeze, casting a green shade over the ground below.

Bilbo felt like the forest birds' singing, accompanied by the calming rushing of water from the river, was going to lull him into sleep, when quite suddenly a high pitched Brandybuck voice carried through the forest and down the hill. "Someone's coming! With two waggons and seven ponies…!"

Sigismond had quickly found his way up into a tree, ready to give the signal to both his Brandybuck cousins on the other side of the road, and to a ready Adalgrim, Flambard and Bilbo – and also Ferumbras who was quite eager to help. After another half of a minute Sigismond hooted alike to an owl (a signal the Tooks used during the day, as there would be no real owls out to disrupt it) and all the hobbits reacted at once.

They opened the crates and upturned them, directing the cackling hens to flap down into the road, right on top of the traveling company and their ponies.

Had the ponies been of proper Shire bred, or even from Bree, raised side by side with farm animals and fauntlings running between their hoofs every now and then, the birds might've just startled them a little, and driven them to a halt, leaving their riders to be baffled most of all. If Bilbo has been the one to get into the tree he would've seen that the travellers were strange-folk; dwarves on top of that, and they were not very known for keeping ponies wrought for anything but pulling heavy loads.

What happened next, as a consequence of this foolishness gone through by the Tooks, was absolutely not part of the plan.

The ponies at the back first wailed and moaned, moving around with unease as their riders tried to make them settle, but the ones at the front, where the assault was most severe, were prancing and jumping about, their riders being felled in all directions as they did so.

The first waggon was the worst off, as the two ponies pulling it could not freely shake loose from the birds. As if the driver and the other dwarves were not already perplexed by the feathery assault that had them stumbling about and falling off the waggon, the ponies set off into a wild charge, as if hunted by wolves, and soon enough the waggon tilted to the side letting the loads of cargo tumble down into the river stream. A few dwarves noticed and quickly followed, shouting their curses, with intent of regaining what luggage and crates had fallen into the water.

The hobbits stared on in disbelief as their plan went horribly awry in front of their very eyes. The tilted waggon has chased the Brandybucks out of their hiding spot and they were already dashing away from the scene. Flambard quickly had Ferumbras by the arms, telling him to run down to Hobbiton and get help as fast as his little feet could carry him. Sigismond was still struggling to climb down from the tree.

Bilbo thawed from his frozen state of shock and turned to Adalgrim with a desperate cry: "We have to help them!"

Adalgrim nodded dully, still quite in shock himself, just as Sigismond jumped to the ground next to them. They all agreed, and only a moment later they were sliding down the hill.

The last hens had cleared off by the time they reached the bottom, leaving loads of feathers and droppings in their wake. Sigismond and Flambard were quickly by the Ponies, calming them down and preventing them from hurting themselves on their own equipment. Bilbo (not having dealt with very big animals before) and Adalgrim went towards the dwarves in the river struggling to drag their belongings back up onto shore.

As it turned out, however, dwarves were not the most adept swimmers when dressed with their heavy boots and traveling gears and whatnot.

Bilbo quickly rushed into the water, waddling out after one of the dwarves struggling against the current.

"Hold on!" he cried, but kept to the shallows and out of the stream, instead opting to reach out a hand and shouting for the dwarf to grab a hold of him. The dwarf took it, but with a force that surprised the hobbit. Bilbo felt his otherwise sturdy soles slip on the gravel bellow, and soon enough he was out in the river as well!

The water rushed in his ears, as he was taken under, in a fashion not nearly as pleasing as when it had been soothing him to sleep just a few minutes earlier. In his confusion he panicked, unable to remember which way was up, and for a moment he thought he would surely drown.

A big hand grabbed a hold of his bracer and pulled him up for air which he greedily sucked in. Bilbo, grabbing a hold of the thick, sturdy arm belonging to the hand, somewhat managed to navigate them both closer to the riverside, but it was the dwarf's strength that pulled them both out and onto dry land.

Bilbo had never been so glad to feel his knees dig into grass and mud.

Breathing heavily, and dripping wet, the two looked at each other for the first time. It was the first time Bilbo had seen one of Aulë's children, as his mother referred to them in her fairy tales, up close, but at the moment there truly wasn't much to see. The dwarf was drenched (of course he was, and so was Bilbo!), dark hair hanging in soaked locks both around and across his face. His blue travelling cloak was clinging to his form, making him look more like an oddly coloured, wet animal than an actual person; and eyes, a glaring shade of sky blue, were digging their gaze into his.

"That," the dwarf spat somewhat spitefully, voice rough from choking on river water, "was a pitiful rescue, if I ever saw one."

He didn't say much else, grumbled to himself and got up, leaving Bilbo to stare after him in astonishment as he walked away over to his companions that were working on pulling the waggon up straight. With the help of the nearly-drowned-dwarf they succeeded.

Goodness… Bilbo thought to himself, what in the Lady's name was that?!

"Bilbo!" his cousins shouted to him, pulling him out of his trance. They were by his side not a second later.

"Are you alright?" Sigismond fussed, he and Adalgrim helping him stand up on his slightly wobbly feet.

He assured them he was fine, and Adalgrim sighed in relief muttering something about not having to explain to Belladonna why he had let her beloved son drown in the Water.

Soon more hobbits arrived at the scene, armed with rope and hayforks, helping what they could to retrieve whatever packs and crates were floating down the stream. However, it soon became apparent that most was lost or damaged. It was agreed between the travellers and the hobbits that they would all head back to Hobbiton for warmth, dry clothing and sorting out the "matter" at hand.

Bilbo, out of sheer embarrassment, avoided looking at any of the dwarves for the entire duration of the walk to Hobbiton.

This is a WIP. Updates will be infrequent.

This work is not beta read. (If you wish to beta, or simply proofread, future chapters, please contact the authoress). xoxo

Comments/feedback are desired, but never required. Cheers~