It wasn't so much an interrogation as much as it was an Inquisition.
The boys waited patiently inside the classroom after school, wrapped warmly in their winter coats, for their moms to pick them up. Bilbo had just left with his mom and the boys quickly turned on Bofur with fierce eyes and horrible scowls.
"Explain," Thorin ordered, holding up the evidence of his friend's and boyfriend's betrayal. He could forgive Bilbo. No doubt poor Bilbo didn't realize Bofur was trying to steal him away. Bilbo was so sweet and trusting. But Bofur.
How could he? That large smile and the jokes and the good humor. It was all a front. He let everyone think he was a good guy before BAM! He struck. He took your heart and ran away with it.
"I didn't do nothing wrong," Bofur told them. "You weren't here and he was sad and I didn't want him to be sad." He nodded his head, crossing his arms and staring down Thorin. He was not going to be writ off as the bad guy. No sir.
Thorin and Dwalin exchanged a look before stepping back. "Fine," Thorin said.
"But we'll be watching you," Dwalin finished.
Bofur let out a sigh of relief. That was close.
And so things returned to normal.
Or at least they were supposed to.
Bilbo sat in class, bubbling with excitement. Thorin kept a wary eye on him, unsure as to what had gotten him so riled up. Mr. Grey called the class to order and the small children looked up him expectantly.
"Children," he said, a warm smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. Thorin didn't trust him for a second. "It is once again the holiday season, which means we shall be putting on the Holiday pageant."
The children squealed in delight, Bilbo the loudest of them all. Thorin had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He recalled the Kindergarten pageant Mr. Grey and Mr. White had put on the year earlier. The children had been decked out in costumes of angels and stars and Christmas trees and menorahs and so on. There was singing and dancing and Thorin wondered if he could possibly be excused from the whole thing.
"We will be partnering with Mr. White's class across the hall," Mr. Grey continued. "And today after lunch we shall all commune to the auditorium to begin preparations."
During lunch Bilbo babbled on and on about the Holiday pageant. Thorin thought for sure he was going to pass out from lack of breathing. Bofur encouraged him, and Thorin shot him a warning look. Did their talk mean nothing?
Bofur merely rolled his eyes. He was just as excited for the pageant as Bilbo was. He wanted to be a Christmas tree. He thought he'd make a very dashing tree.
"Aren't you excited?" Bilbo asked Thorin, pulling the a green crayon out of the bin. He looked at Thorin expectantly.
Thorin blinked, unsure how to respond. So he said the first thing that popped in his head. "Yes."
Bilbo rested his head on one hand, the other drawing a Christmas tree on his paper. "Mama says that Mr. Grey puts on the best show every year. And that he always picks a student to play Santa and the elves and even reindeer and trees and stars and presents and I think you'd make a great Santa!" He slammed down his crayon in his enthusiasm. "Don't you think?"
What Thorin wanted to say was, "NO." But instead, he nodded his head meekly. He didn't want to upset Bilbo by saying the pageant was the dumbest thing in the world. That would undoubtedly start a fight.
Once recess ended, Mr. Grey shuffled his fifteen 5 and 6 year olds into the auditorium, where Mr. White's kindergartners were already waiting.
Thorin glared at them all, gripping Bilbo's hand tightly. He didn't like the way those children stared at them. He briefly recalled a few of them from his Pre-K class the year previous and his blood boiled as he spotted two specific ones.
A rather tall five year old with long blonde hair and light blue eyes met Thorin's eye, raising an eyebrow in question as he noticed Bilbo at his side. Thorin pulled Bilbo closer and the boy stumbled slightly, his attention focused on the big stage they were going to be rehearsing on.
A shorter, but equally tall boy peeked over the blonde's shoulder and huffed in annoyance at what the blonde was looking at. He shoved the blonde and the moment was gone.
Bilbo pulled on Thorin's hand and drew him closer to the other class. "Who're they?" Bilbo asked, staring at the other boys.
With a snort, Dwalin took up Bilbo's other side, while Nori, Bofur, and Gloin took up his rear. Strength in numbers.
"No one," Thorin answered, leading the group to the seats in back, out of sight from the other class.
Thranduil and Elrond. They were the worst.
The adults were chatting amiably in the corner before Mr. Brown cleared his throat and hustled the children all together as Mr. White stared them down. "Now," he drawled, eyes cold and a frown in place, "I am aware you are all untalented and you think enthusiasm is enough to put on a good pageant, but I must remind you that – "
Mr. Grey blanched and quickly interrupted his colleague, "You will all do a wonderful job, no doubt." The kids beamed up at him and he continued. "You will all have a role, but remember," he leaned forward conspiratorially, "no part is too small, nor too large. It is just the part you were made for."
He quickly broke down all the roles. There would be elves, and a few Christmas trees, and of course, Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus. It being an all boys school, one of the boys would have to dress up as the Mrs., but Mr. Grey assured them that it would be rather tasteful.
The story was to be of Santa's first Christmas. Santa Claus is quite new to the job and isn't sure that he could deliver toys to all the children in the world in one night. With the help of his friends, he's given the confidence to do just that.
There would, of course, be songs and dancing, and lovely little poems. All in all, it was a guaranteed fun time for all.
Thorin pouted in his seat, glaring at Thranduil, who returned the glare.
"Now," Mr. Grey said. "Who'd like to be Santa Claus?"
Nearly a dozen hands popped up, Bilbo's hand the first raised. Mr. Grey jotted down the names of the volunteers and when he came to Bilbo, he shook his head and said, "I think Thorin should be Santa."
Thorin sat up in his seat, thrown completely through a loop. He gaped at Bilbo, then Mr. Grey. Thranduil's hand shot up almost immediately and declared, "I'd like to be Santa Claus."
Mr. Grey wrote down the boy's name. "Mr. Durin," Mr. Grey said. "Mr. Baggins has volunteered you, but it is up to you whether we consider you or not. Would you like to play Santa Claus?"
Thorin took a moment to think it over. His parents would no doubt be prideful if he decided to take on such an important role, and no matter what Mr. Grey said, it was clearly the best. If Thranduil got the part, he would never let Thorin live it down. And if Thorin did get it, he could gloat forever.
Plus Bilbo clearly thought he'd be a good Santa Claus. And he wanted Bilbo to be happy.
"Yes, please," Thorin answered, sticking out his tongue at Thranduil once Mr. Grey turned around. He smiled grandly at Bilbo.
Let the war begin.
