Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just love these characters so much.

This is something I've been thinking about since the first time I saw The Hobbit and Thorin said he lost his way on the way to the dinner party. Thorin is just such a fun character even though he's supposed to be too stern to handle. Let me know what you think!


Thorin wandered down a small path between the halfing holes. The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky with reds, oranges, pinks and purples, and Thorin saw more and more hobbits sitting on their porches smoking together as he continued walking. He had been wandering for hours and had lost his way only minutes after walking past the last little wooden sign that read "Hobbiton;" every turn in the road only confused him more.

As he continued to aimlessly walk about, hobbits sitting along the way on tiny benches or coaxing livestock in one direction or another would notice him and stare. Some would nod their heads and offer a welcoming smile, but most scowled at the presence of the strange visitor and muttered about dwarves under their breath as he passed them.

The Shire had surprised Thorin; the richness of the culture of hobbits was not what he had expected. Every hole in the ground was unique: each door was a different hue of green, red, blue, yellow and brown and the gardens and some of the hobbit holes were more above ground than others. Thorin felt a kindred with the hobbits in only two respects: their love for life underground and their appreciation for a good pint of ale. He did not however, appreciate their complicated groupings of homes and pathways; he had already lost his way once in another area of the Shire until he had happened on a group of signs that told him which direction to head.

Thorin's feet stopped working of their own accord as he came around a turn in the path. The dwarf king stood there looking at a small wooden sign that read "Hobbiton" that looked just a little too familiar. His hands balled into fists, and he continued to stare angrily at the sign as if he wished he could beat it into to submitting and telling him how to get to this cursed dinner party. "Where in Durin's name am I?!" Thorin yelled at the offensive and unhelpful sign.

With no map to guide him, too much pride to ask for directions, and a stomach that was beginning to growl, Thorin turned around once more and trudged down the path toward a set of homes that he didn't think he had walked past yet.

Down the road, Thorin could hear singing and chatting spilling out a building much larger than the homes he had walked past for the past few hours. He walked closer until he could read the sign hanging above the door that read "Green Dragon." Thorin scoffed at the name, these halfings know nothing of dragons. He walked toward the building, swallowing his pride and accepting that he should ask someone where to find the hole in the ground called Bag End. A few hobbits were siting outside the Green Dragon smoking their pipes while chatting jovially. One of them hushed the others when he noticed the dwarf approaching them. He cleared his throat as he stopped in front of them and stared them down. He gave a small, courteous nod, "Good evening."

"You as well," one of the braver halfings responded.

"Where do I find Bag End?" Thorin said quickly, irritated at his need for directions from such a docile creature. The three hobbits traded strange looks.

One of the hobbits shrugged and looked up at Thorin, "If you walk straight that way toward the tree with the knot on the right side, take a left. Then, when you get to the Bracegirdles' place, keep going up the hill next to them, and you'll find Mr. Baggins there."

Thorin stood there for a moment, trying to process the odd directions from the hobbit. He wasn't sure if he had really benefited from the help he didn't want to ask for in the first place. But not wanting to ask for clarification or spend any longer looking for this cursed hobbit hole, he bowed at the three hobbits and said, "I thank you." As he walked away, he was certain he could hear them giggling under their breath and he felt his neck and cheeks burn. He stomped up a small rise toward a tree that looked like it could be the one the hobbits had described. A sigh of relief escaped Thorin as he finally felt like this ridiculous journey through the Shire was almost over; the moment the Company could acquire their ponies and begin the journey to reclaim their home could not arrive soon enough.

Up the hill, Thorin finally caught sight of the home of a halfing with a tree growing out of the top and he was fairly certain he could see Gandalf's mark on the door. Now all he had to do was make his way up the hill past the surrounding homes and not take another turn. He wrapped his cloak around himself, although he was plenty warm from walking all day as well as the foul mood that was making his neck turn a shade more red than normal. As he walked up the path toward the stately hole in the ground, Thorin tried to calm himself, straighten his cloak and brush away a few stray strands of hair. He would not arrive at the door of the supposed burglar looking like a flustered dwarfling.

He could hear the uproarious laughter of his company of dwarves from the door and smiled to himself, whoever this burglar was, Thorin ventured to guess that he had probably never dealt with a gathering much like the ones his kin and friends were capable of creating. Thorin knocked heavily on the door a few times to make sure they would hear him over their racket.

The noises from inside ceased at the sound of his knock, and Thorin was certain he could hear Gandalf saying something on the other side of the door. That wizard was going to have some explaining to do for making him come all the way out here, especially if it was to meet a hobbit the wizard wanted to bring along on their journey. The door slowly began to open, and Thorin leaned down a little to look through the doorframe, his eyes moving up as he saw Gandalf's robes and finally made eye contact with the wizard.

"Gandalf."