Mean an Nasty
By Leah Day
Summary
Set between film one and two, The Dwarf King, Thorin Oakenshield, has been dared, by Gandalf and company, to be less mean for one week.
Can the mighty monarch handle the task or will he fail?
Not slash and this is my first proper Tolkien based story, please do not flame me if it is not spot on, I am not perfect.
Written in Australian and British English.
In addition, regrettably, I did not add the entire company. Should I ever feel brave enough to write about the dwarves and Bilbo again, I will endeavour to add more dwarves to the ditty.
Disclaimer
I do not own a thing, rated PG for a very mad Thorin and references to the behind!
Somewhere
"I cannot take it anymore, Gandalf!"
"Be strong, my good fellow. Be strong. It's early days yet."
Shaking his head, Thorin gripped the hilt of his sword ever so tightly in his hand.
"No!" he replied sternly. "I am the king of the Dwarves …. I am too important for this!"
"There is no cause for such haughtiness, Thorin!"
The tall Dwarf's nostril's flared.
"Again … I am too important for mean management! How can I possibly command respect if I'm not mean?"
"Well, the fact that your face does look like a dog's arse when you are."
The company burst into deep chuckles.
Thorin glowered at them all.
Gandalf rapped his staff on a rock.
"Quiet Bofur!"
"Alrighty then."
"And quiet all of you!"
"Oh alrighty then!" the rest echoed.
"So," Thorin growled balefully. "You are saying, Bofur, that I cannot command the respect of my fellow dwarves even when I am mean?"
"We-eelll …."
"I think you're only mean because you're jealous of Gandalf's fondness for Bilbo and you miss your home, laddie," Bombur waffled before tearing into a piece of roasted …. Whatever it was.
Crow perhaps?
Everyone, quite flummoxed, stared at the bulbous dwarf in complete wonder. Never had they imagined such an astute assessment to come out his mouth.
There was a moments silence then everyone shrugged and returned to the current situation as if the magnificent assessment had not been voiced at all.
"What was that thing you said about a willing heart …?" Dwalin asked, scratching the side of his head.
"I was not myself!" Thorin insisted crossly.
"Oh!" the company cried quite aghast. even the ever-looming wizard arched his grey, bushy, eyebrows.
"It was the scenario!" the bombastic dwarf monarch pressed on. "Pipe weed, candlelight, moonlight! A blazing fireplace! Damn it all! Why am I explaining myself? I was not myself!"
Kili rolled his eyes.
"Riiiiight," Fili muttered under his breath.
"Face like a dog's arse," Bofur added, folding arms across his chest. "During a bothersome bout of constipation."
"Bofur, please do not upset him any further," Gandalf cautioned.
"I do not have a face like a dog's arse!" Thorin thundered angrily, eyes gleaming with absolute indignation. "And certainly not like one that is having a bothersome bout of constipation!"
"Riiiiight," Kili drawled.
"My dear Thorin!" Gandalf cried. "I beg you, do be comforted. It is only for a few more days. And remember that We only suggested for you to …. Well …To give your cantankerous urges a respite. The week is nearly over and you have been doing so very well!"
"I have to be mean to something!" Thorin all but screamed. "Pressgang! Bully! Mutilate! Kill! Maim! I need to be mean!"
"Laddie …. Are you foaming at the mouth?" Balin asked.
"Maybe we have been too hard on him?" Gloin suggested. "Three days of being affable to literally everything one comes across is a bit much, an entire week is like moving an entire mountain on your own."
"And we didn't rule out killing," Dwalin added frankly.
Gandalf the grey rolled his eyes.
So much for all the progress and encouragement.
Oh … Oh confound it all!
"Find this fool something to stab!" he grumbled.
Thorin nearly fainted from sheer relief, but he was too important to do that.
"Bombur, we need left overs!" Bofur barked from over his shoulder.
"How on earth is he going to be despicable to a scrap of meat?" Fili asked. "I really don't get it."
"He's so on edge, anything will do," Balin replied.
OoO
Bilbo had been fondling the ring, looking for mushrooms and fondling the ring. The golden object was so nice and smooth ….
"I'm back!" he announced, putting down the sack of mushrooms in front of Bombur. "And … What – What happened here?"
Thorin was bellowing abuse at a rock and a leg of rabbit. He was foaming at the mouth and swinging his blade left to right, right to left like a hysterical lunatic.
"Gandalf …. Has Thorin lost his senses?" Bilbo asked, feeling considerably unnerved by what he was seeing.
The wizard sighed.
"I think we need some tea, Bilbo," he told the hobbit. "Do run along and boil some water."
OoO
Half an hour later, Thorin marched into the encampment appearing quite composed.
"Feeling better?" Bilbo asked, nursing a bowl of rabbit and mushroom stew in his lap.
Thorin glared pugnaciously at him, nostrils flaring like a pony's.
"Thorin," Gandalf rumbled warningly. "Twas a fair question. Are you feeling better?"
The dwarf king scowled, brooded over the question then glared at Bilbo again.
"You fight like a dolt!" he snapped. "Fighting practice tomorrow, first light!"
Bilbo swallowed densely then nodded, his mouth clammed shut.
Satisfied, the mighty dwarf stomped off, muttering under his breath as he went.
Poor, dear little Bilbo put his face in his hands and groaned into them.
"I'm doomed!"
The end
Author's note
Saw "The Hobbit" last night in Melbourne and, though it was in character, I have to admit I was a little annoyed at how mean Thorin was to Bilbo, I muttered "wanka" under my breath, and was thus later inspired to jot this ditty down.
It is not perfect by any means, but when inspiration takes hold ….
If you liked it, lovely. If not, that's fine.