A/N: The journey.
Disclaimer: Interesting fact - apart from where I do not own anything - when I published this on AO3, this fic really hit the roof in number of hits, subscriptions, kudoses and comments. The feedback came even more than it was for Pie and Quill. But it makes me a sad pandaa that my pet project, Of Tables That Turn, was by no means similarly popular. Oh well. xD
"It's not so much the journey that's important; as is the way that we treat those we encounter and those around us, along the way."
-o.O.o-
Of course, someone as unsuitable as mister Baggins just had to have someone just as unsuitable for his personal guard and servant.
"Viola Whitfoot? I would not want her anywhere close, master dwarf, no matter what. She's ruthless, and just as greedy as her new master. Where he will point, she will go, what he says, she will do."
So far it was showing true – while they were still in the Shire, though, sometimes doubts about what they had been told surfaced in the youngest dwarves. The small caravan of dwarves travelled through the peaceful land, and the hobbit acted so amazingly towards the countless children who sometimes ran along them that it made them wonder how such a man, who obviously cares so much about children, and whom the children adore in turn, could be such a sorry excuse for a future consort.
But then he would complain about missing handkerchief, about his old armchair or about that useless cloth things with holes in them, and all the doubt had been buried under new wave of evidence of his unsuitability.
The woman, Viola Whitfoot, was only a bit more tolerable – she knew how to ride a pony without trouble, and didn't seem to be bothered by quite a few of the ruckus the dwarves tended to get into. But the obvious closeness between her and the future Consort, sometimes outright landing right on the line what was appropriate and what was not got on Fili's nerves.
Never mind that their uncle and Dwalin tended to be very much the same, when travelling. Those were both dwarrow – it was alright for them. But for a woman and a man to be like that, watching each other during baths they took together, huddling close by the evening fire – that was not proper, especially if they weren't related.
They were nearby Rivendell, the Last Homely House, as the whole place had been named by the weed-eaters, when they ran into ruins of a farm.
And it shouldn't been those hobbits, who saved them from being eaten – it should be the dwarves saving the hobbits from being eaten. As it was, both hobbits happened to escape the three trolls' attention and then keep them occupied long enough for the sun to rise, successfully turning the trolls into stone.
The others from their caravan seemed rather impressed by the feat. The princes – not so much.
Especially when the woman handed Baggins a short sword and he nearly managed to stab himself in foot as he dropped it from his clumsy fingers.
Little did the princes know that Viola just handed Bilbo sword that would one day become his trademark – sword with no name and of little importance, but with fate bigger than the Lonely Mountain.
-o.O.o-
The elves, as Kili and Fili made an effort to call the Fair Folk even in the sanctity of their own minds while they were staying in their lands, seemed very much taken by the hobbits – even going out of their way to make them feel as welcome as they could; talking to them, offering them assistance whenever they seemed even a little lost, attempting to cook their traditional meals. Lord Elrond himself made it clear that he thought highly of the future Consort as he obviously knew his mother, suggesting things here and there, his sons offering their services with helping him train with the sword he so recently acquired.
Small group of elves accompanied them as far as over the Misty Mountains, to make sure they wouldn't run into any trouble.
When they finally parted ways, Kili and Fili spent the whole night by thinking up the most creative ways how to insult an elf.
-o.O.o-
It took them about two weeks to reach Mirkwood, and another group of elves who were to guide them through the forest, once again led by son of the King. Legolas Greenleaf seemed very curious about hobbits, and spent many an hour by talking to them, asking mostly about the Shire and the small folk that lived there.
His father, King Thranduil, was also rather curious about the Consort coming to Erebor; his usually cool features alight with curiosity, as he watched the two before him, his mouth quirking at the politeness often unexpected in those he dealt with.
It was maddening how charming that bloody hobbit could be, Kili and Fili thought. Even they, who knew his true colours, were falling to his charm, but still, they remained watchful around him.
While travelling, they wouldn't be able to prove anything. But once they reach Erebor, they will show their family who Bilbo Baggins and his minion were, and have them cast out of Erebor in disgrace.
