Author's note: This is supposed to take place in England, so I tried to the follow the UK education system as best as I could. To my fellow UK-ers, I am terribly sorry this has been a huge learning process for me.
Also, I suck at Khuzdul and doing translations :P
Enjoy!
"So, this is the new English teacher? Looks more like a grocer than an English teacher," are the very first words out of his new boss's mouth. The smirk that accompanies it only makes it worse.
He tries to be civil about it, he does. He tries to conceal the annoyance on his face, the huff and litany of protests threatening to spill out at any moment, and most of all just be civil. Bilbo Baggins considers himself a very polite man, very hospitable and welcoming to guests, and most of all very generous. And above all he absolutely hates conflict. He tries not to fight unless the situation calls for it, but usually remaining hidden and unnoticeable is his more better talent. So imagine hearing those words from the man soon to be his boss for the next year and a half.
It takes a while to process that that was, indeed, an insult, and tries his absolute very best to stay calm, composed, and civil. Right, good luck with that Bilbo.
"Come now, Mr. Oakenshield! I'd say he makes a rather fine grocer doesn't he?" Gandalf says with a little too much levity for the situation.
"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Bilbo follows through by gracing Gandalf with a piercing look.
Gandalf barks out a laugh instead and slaps Bilbo's back hard enough to make him stagger forward a bit. "I can assure you Mr. Oakenshield, grocer or not Bilbo Baggins is an extremely capable professor," Gandalf states with a sudden seriousness. "I promise you, you will not regret having him as a part of your staff." He winks down at Bilbo who can't help smiling at that. Suck up.
Mr. Oakenshield doesn't appear very impressed with that assurance though. He scans Bilbo up and down with disinterest which only further irritates Bilbo. Oh for the love of—!
"You know I could always leave," Bilbo offers.
This stops Mr. Oakenshield's scanning and he narrows his eyes at the teacher.
Gandalf has stilled by Bilbo's side. He opens his mouth to try to calm the soon-to-be raging storm but it's too late. Once Bilbo Baggins is on a roll, no one can stop him.
"I mean if you're so adamant about me not looking qualified enough to teach despite having initial experience at two universities—"
Was it his imagination or did Gandalf actually whine?
"—having a bachelor's and master's in English and history, not to mention—"
No Gandalf's whine was definitely getting louder.
"—I am HIGHLY proficient in Westron and Khuzdul—"
"You speak Khuzdul?" Mr. Oakenshield interrupts, his eyebrow quirking up in surprise.
Bilbo nearly bristles at that. Nearly. Remember, he can be civil if he so much dares. "Well of course I know Khuzdul, but what does that matter to you if you don't deem me as," he airquotes, "qualified—!"
"Now, now, there is no need to get so ruffled up over all this nonsense," Gandalf interjects loudly. Thankfully this stops Bilbo's ranting because he could have gone on for another hour and then where would they all be?
Bilbo releases a frustrated sigh. It's only 8 a.m. and he's already exhausted! He brushes back his curls and feels the need to scowl at them for getting so obnoxiously long. How dare them.
He hears a snort and to his surprise Mr. Oakenshield— is that a smile? No, it can't be. Bilbo knows he's only met this guy for an entirety of five minutes and already doesn't like him, but he can't possibly be smiling. It's—no, that's not possible. Apparently he's so distracted that even Gandalf's words fly right over him.
"I'm sorry, what?" Bilbo tears his eyes away to look up at him. He forgets how tall Gandalf is sometimes.
Gandalf pretends to be exasperated but its more amusement than anything. "I said, before you come to hate this job so much would you at least try the damn job out Bilbo?"
Bilbo's face contorts into a withering expression. And how exactly is he supposed to 'try the damn job out' when his boss practically hates him!
"I would actually agree with Mr. Gandalf," Mr. Oakenshield says out of seemingly nowhere.
Bilbo blinks at him, blurting out without thinking, "I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?" To which he receives a very icy death-stare from Mr. Oakenshield.
He hears a sigh beside him and gets a sharp jab in the shoulder. Bilbo kicks the back of Gandalf's kneecap for good measure.
"Well!" Gandalf exclaims awfully cheerful for someone who just got kicked. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
"Yes, let's," Bilbo grits out. He smiles politely at Mr. Oakenshield but his eyes are conveying words of 'I will kill you' and 'Call me a grocer again and I will stomp your toes off.'
Mr. Oakenshield blatantly ignores him but his smirk says otherwise.
Bilbo sighs as he sifts through the pile of papers, reading over each and every term and agreement and blah blah blah. It's all useless nonsense in his opinion, but Mr. Oakenshield was very particular about the terms and wanted to make sure Bilbo read every single one of them.
He's not really sure why, he's only teaching secondary school for Yavanna's sake. When he asked Gandalf, the older man simply smiled and patted him on the back.
He sighs again at the complicated words and overly used phrases. The English teacher in him can't help pointing out every grammar mistake in plain sight. Whoever wrote this contract really needs to go back and learn Year 2 grammar at the least.
Eventually he's had enough of reading and throws the stack of papers on the coffee table. He sinks back in his armchair and pinches the bridge of his nose. This is utter ridiculousness, it really is. Who creates a 12 page contract for a job at a secondary school?
To be honest, when Gandalf first approached him with the job he was a little skeptical. Don't get him wrong, teaching at a secondary school definitely has its perks. For one thing, he won't have to work such long hours (not that he has anyone to get home to save for his lovely armchair and books), and the workload will definitely be less.
The only problem though? He's teaching Year 7 and 8 students. Children. And this is why he's so much better in a university setting.
He angles his head to glance at the photographs lining his bookshelves and sighs. They're all of him and his past students, and some with other professors who have now become lifelong friends of his. It's not like he wanted to quit university teaching. The students were more mature, they could joke easily and not be offended, and dare Bilbo say he may have gotten in on those jokes more than once or twice. He's not trying to toot his own horn, but he was actually quite good at his job and usually had students lined up outside his door to sign up for his classes.
His first experience was at Greenwood, and while he fiercely loved his students' passion for learning, things started changing very quickly. With the arrival of the new President Thranduil and Elrond's sudden retirement, he started instilling all sorts of changes which just didn't sit right with Bilbo. In time, Greenwood was nicknamed the new 'Mirkwood,' and many students started transferring out of school, defacing school property, basically just protesting in any way to get the message across to President Thranduil that he was not liked nor welcomed here.
Bilbo couldn't take all the chaos, and so he transferred out and got a job at Hobbiton thanks to Hamfast, the head gardener of the university who put in a good word for him. Hobbiton, while very quaint and peaceful compared to Greenwood, was getting boring very quickly. Ironically, he found the students too obedient. Not to mention they just weren't very interesting, and the professors were nothing but a bunch of gossipers who nitpicked and sniggered at just about every professor there. Bilbo included of course.
Bilbo runs a hand over his face and through his curls. Seriously, his hair is getting ridiculously long. He thumps his head against his armchair to try and gather his thoughts together. What was he even thinking, working at a secondary school? He has no experience with children save for his limited exposure during his student teaching years, and he just has no interest in children to begin with. Maybe it was the prospect of a new job that excited him.
Or the fact that Gandalf literally appeared out of no where and somehow conned him into doing this. Gandalf never made any mention of it, and so Bilbo had just assumed right off the bat that he'd be placed with the Year 10 or 11 students due to his previous experience with older students.
"What do you mean I'll be teaching children?! Gandalf you never said anything about me teaching a bunch of children!" Bilbo nearly squawks into the phone.
"Are you sure? I could have sworn I mentioned it…" Gandalf trails off. It's like he's purposely trying to think about it when deep down he planned this all along.
"No, no no no no NO you never mentioned anything! Gandalf, you know I have no experience with children whatsoever!"
"Oh, come now Bilbo! Think of it as an adventure! You did say Hobbiton was, now what did you say it was again?"
"A bunch of poppy-cock?" Bilbo supplies in a dry voice.
"A bunch of poppy-cock, precisely! And besides, I think Erebor will be a rather splendid time for you."
"Teaching children?! And how exactly is that supposed to be a 'splendid time' Gandalf?!" Bilbo wails.
"It will be an adventure," Gandalf repeats. "Trust me on that Bilbo Baggins."
And trust him Bilbo did. That was until he met his new boss and all that trust dissolved like a sugar cube in a cup of tea. His eyes glance back at the contract. Do you choose to pledge your services to Headmaster Thorin Oakenshield and Co.?
Thorin Oakenshield, he scoffs in his head. Contrary to the impression (and snide remarks!) he made on Bilbo, he's actually heard a lot of things about him. Erebor Academy had been a dying flame, a lost cause as many put it. It was slowly dwindling, with the school funds running low and the headmaster not being, as they say, 'all there.' He doesn't know the full story, just that the previous headmaster couldn't do his job properly and so his grandson took up the mantle. He brought Erebor back from the ashes, rekindling that flame and bringing in more students than ever. It eventually became one of the top schools in England, all happening within the span of the last 10 years.
And yet, the Thorin Oakenshield who brought Erebor back from the ashes and the one who called Bilbo a grocer just this morning are two entirely different people in his head. He just can't make sense of it. After all the things he's read in the news, he'd expect Thorin Oakenshield to be a little humble and not so… well, like that.
Bilbo narrows his eyes at that infuriating contract which will most likely determine his life for the next 9 months. Really now, this shouldn't be that hard of a decision. You either sign it or you don't Bilbo, that's all there is to it.
"Arrgghh! That stupid old man!" Bilbo groans.
Despite the constant fighting, bickering, and sassing with absolutely no one in particular from the night before, Bilbo finds himself standing in Mr. Oakenshield's office once again with the 12 page contract in hand. The papers are all neatly shuffled, like they were never pulled apart to begin with (or thrown in the air like a maniac now don't you darestare at him like that).
Mr. Oakenshield looks genuinely surprised, as Bilbo had made it quite clear he didn't like Mr. Oakenshield and vice versa. The fact that he and his boss dislike each other should have been that warning signal in big flashing lights, but of course Bilbo ignored it. Of course he decided to accept the challenge of teaching secondary schoolers and a boss who hated his guts.
Once again, he would like to reiterate that this is all Gandalf's fault!
"You accept?" The headmaster asks in surprise. There's a hint of a challenge to his voice.
Bilbo resists the urge to scoff or roll his eyes. Remember, he's civil. "Yes, I accept the job Mr. Oakenshield." He sticks out a hand, only because it's the courteous thing to do. "It's a pleasure to be in your company, Mr. Oakenshield."
Mr. Oakenshield eyes the hand apprehensively, then slowly reaches out and grasps it in a strong hold. They both grimace, like a handshake is more of a hassle compared to actual fighting.
"Welcome aboard.. Professor."
Bilbo's about to reply when he's met (more like assaulted) with the deepest blue eyes he's ever seen. Those eyes throw him off for a second because he wasn't expecting them to be so.. blue. He nearly gets lost in them and has to shake himself out of his stupor. Stop it Bilbo, this is the enemy! No time to go swooning over a pair of nice rich blue eyes!
Bilbo clears his throat and puts on a sickeningly sweet smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Headmaster."
Additional note: You can follow me on tumblr! I'm braveandtheb0ld (careful, that's a '0' not an 'O')