Chapter Nine

Bilbo had been back in The Shire for exactly a week and his arrival, as well as his original departure, was still very much the talk of Hobbiton. Bilbo had taken to staying in doors, not wanting to face the gossip or ridicule of his fellow hobbits. But more or less, Bilbo found that his life had returned to much the same as it had been before the quest to reclaim Erebor.
Once he woke, he would have breakfast, bathe, eat second breakfast and would then smoke his pipe in the garden. Next came elevenses and after, if he was so inclined, would partake in a spot of writing. One o'clock bought lunch, more smoking and perhaps he would read a book or two which was, of course, interrupted by afternoon tea. This was then followed by chores, dinner, another quiet moment to smoke and finally, super and bed.
Bilbo Baggins had never felt so thoroughly bored.
He missed the dwarves. Missed the sense of companionship, of family.
Of course Bilbo had family in The Shire, his cousin Drogo had been particularly happy when he had found out the hobbit had returned to his hole, but there was something suddenly lacking in the prim and proper way of hobbit life. A certain lack of manners, of dirty footprints, of chaos and a lack of the rude, loud and rambunctious nature that he had so detested at first, but had grown accustomed to - dare he even say, fond of.
Bilbo found that his life in The Shire was no longer the fulfilling experience it had once been and suddenly found himself craving the unexpected, craving adventure.
What made everything that much worse, was when Gandalf had left.
The wizard had bid his goodbyes to Bilbo some three days prior, with promises to return in time for Drogo's wedding. Bag End was suddenly suffocatingly still and quiet.

O-O-O-O-O

Bilbo felt heavy arms settle around his waist and turned to face the dwarf who had captured his heart.
"My hobbit." Thorin whispered, cupping Bilbo's cheek and brushing a thumb across his lower lip.
Bilbo smiled and leaned into the King's touch, gazing up into the eyes that were usually so cold and distant, but now looked upon him so softly.
Suddenly the dwarf drew back, a frown creasing his brow. "Why did you leave me? Leave me when I needed you most?"
Bilbo sucked in a harsh breath. "I-I didn't-"
"I was wounded and unconscious and you left!" The King spat, withdrawing from the hobbit even further.
"Thorin, please." The hobbit begged, his chest suddenly hollow as he moved closer, only for the dwarf to step away once more.
"You think I believe that you care for me?" He asked in disbelief.
Bilbo could feel the tears gathering in his eyes. "I-I do care! I lo-"
"Lies!" Thorin growled and turned his back on the halfling.
Before Bilbo could say anything, a deafening roar turned his head and he was suddenly frozen in fear as a huge warg leapt through the air and landed on the King with enough force to shake the ground.
"Thorin!" The scream tore from the hobbit's throat as he lurched forward, running towards the fallen dwarf and withdrawing Sting from it's sheath.
Before Bilbo could plunge his sword into the beast, the warg turned on him and growled, before suddenly, and unexpectedly, running off.
Bilbo didn't spare the creature a glance, falling to his knee's beside the King as he lay motionless on the ground.
"Thorin?" The hobbit rolled the dwarf onto his back, a sob catching in his chest when he saw that the warg's teeth had torn through the King's flesh.
"B-Bilbo." Thorin coughed and the red of his blood marred his lips. "Forgive me." He rasped.
Bilbo suddenly sat up with a cry and exhaled a shaken breath. It took the hobbit several moments before he could fully realise that he was in fact safe in his bed in Bag End and that it had only been a horrible dream. But it had felt so real, too real.
Bilbo curled his knee's into his chest and rested his head upon them. It wasn't the first nightmare that Bilbo had had since returning to The Shire, but it had been by far the most vivid and easily set about igniting the guilt he had tried to bury ever since he had left Erebor.
The hobbit was inconsolable for the rest of the morning, not that there was anyone around to see him mope about in such a state. His black mood was however, interrupted after lunchtime.
Drogo and wife-to-be, Primula Brandybuck came to visit, their idle chatter over cups of tea and a various selection of cakes was somewhat of a comfort to the hobbit, but all too soon Bilbo noticed the subtle glances. At first he thought nothing of it, but once he took a moment to reflect over the words he had uttered, he realised how coarse, crude and almost boarding on the uncivilised some of his comments had been. Very un-hobbit like indeed.
They bid him good afternoon not long after and left Bilbo with a small degree of shame and a parting that promised to see him at their wedding in two weeks time. Later, when he was alone, Bilbo wondered how he would cope under the scrutiny of nearly the entire Shire, but suddenly realised that he didn't care as much as he should and found that it invigorated him.
Within the next fortnight, Bilbo left the security of his home often and took great pride in ignoring the gossip and whispers that followed him. 'Mad Baggins' he'd heard uttered on more than one occasion, and although Bilbo was slightly affronted at first, found more humour in those murmurs than perhaps the situation warranted.
For once, Gandalf had been predictable in his assessment that Bilbo would be changed and he was grateful.
On the eve of his cousin's wedding, Bilbo was barely dreading it at all.

To be continued…