Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or actors from The Hobbit. Everything belongs to the great and powerful J.R.R. Tolkien.
Thank you to everyone for the wonderful reviews yet again! And I'm very sorry about the late update and my lack of response to several PMs, but I've been having some problems with someone sending me repeated harassing messages and reviews over the last month on . I have removed all of the reviews there and have finally figured out how to block the PMs, but it took up a lot of my free time since the constant, troll-like messages were really starting to get on my last nerve. I still haven't figured out if it was more than one person or not, but I intend to ignore or block them as best I can from now on. I'm always okay with advice or suggestions from readers, but when someone repeatedly demands that I write something I don't feel comfortable writing for the public (smut) or even thinking about (incest), then I must draw the line. And again, I'm sorry for the overly long note, but none of my other responses have gotten these people off my back about the so-called shipping issues of my story.
Chapter XXVIII
"Please tell me I didn't hear what I think I just heard?"
The issue with the badgers the previous night had been easily solved by removing the honey cakes from Kíli's pockets and giving them to the honey-loving creatures. As all of them learned, the honey badgers and their cousins had been given their nicknames and infamous reputations for a very good reason. According to Currin, even the faintest whiff of honey was more than enough to whip her companions into a frenzy, their natural urges and extreme lust for honey overriding basic decency and common sense. No harm or foul had been done, but Bilbo had a strong feeling that the youngest prince would be avoiding anything with honey in it for quite some time. And Bilbo had moved the honey jars to the back of the kitchen cabinets this morning, hidden behind the sweet smell of apples and an unusually large potato. Just in case.
"Eh? What'd you say?"
Bilbo blinked, internally sighing at the ear trumpet that was now directed towards his face from across the table. The older dwarf's hearing was much sharper in private, but noisy settings like Erebor's western mess halls basically made the healer deaf to everyone around him.
"Listen. To the table behind me."
The Royal Healer paused, dark eyes narrowing as he concentrated on the group of miners and smiths sitting directly behind the hobbit. Several seconds passed without Bilbo or Óin hearing anything, but then a bunch of sniggers erupted from the group, the burliest of the dwarves pointing towards the kitchen food lines. And despite his gob being stuffed full of food, Bilbo could still understand every word that came out of his big, fat, uncouth mouth.
"The runt's still as bare as a babe's bottom."
"Disgraceful to the whole line of Durin, is what it is. My twenty-year-old daughter has more beard than him."
"Looks more like an elf than a dwarf."
"Doesn't look an ounce like that Firebeard father of his, either. Far too delicate. If it wasn't for the lad's dark coloring, you'd never suspect his relation to the princess or his uncles. Very strange."
"At least the other archers have sideburns."
"Those Firebeards always were strangely friendly with the elves and local men. It wouldn't surprise me if that boy's got mixed blood in him."
"Aye. Far too peculiar that he's still bare at his age."
"Must be why the King's assigned him to the eastern tunnels. Keeping him out of sight and out of mind. Terrible business."
"Would've mistaken him for a lass if I'd not known…"
The hobbit reached out and grabbed Óin's shoulder, his short arm straining as the elderly dwarf tried to stand up from his seat, ear trumpet brandished in hand like a deadly weapon. Teeth gnashing and nostrils flared, Óin looked ready to throttle the disrespectful dwarves who'd insulted the youngest prince of Erebor.
"Wait, Óin! Wait!" hissed Bilbo. "We've got to think this through. By the Valar, save me from the rashness of dwarves. Sit down!"
"But you heard what they said! It's downright—"
"Yes, yes, I know, I know," assured Bilbo. "But attacking outright wouldn't look good for us, now would it? No, don't give me that look. I don't care what you dwarves do about insults and whatnot. I've got a better idea."
"Really?"
"Of course, we hobbits can be quite crafty when we want to be," said Bilbo with a snooty sniff. He glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes narrowed at the snickering group of dwarves at his back. "And I've a strong desire to utilize that craftiness right now. They'll not know what hit them."
Óin huffed. "Well, what've you got in mind, laddie?"
The hobbit gave him a wicked smile. It hadn't taken long for Bilbo to realize that Kíli's lack of facial hair was a major source of embarrassment and shame for the younger prince. Even Gimli and little Donel had more facial hair than Kíli, something that seemed to constantly smash the prince's self-esteem into tiny little pieces. Bilbo suspected that an unfortunate amount of bullying had occurred as a direct result of Kíli's softer features and complete lack of beard, moustache, or sideburns. And from the sound of the sniggering at his back, Bilbo understood that it wasn't just Kíli's age-mates who'd likely picked on him over the decades.
"Do you still have all of Fíli's medications with you?"
"Of course."
"Then I know the perfect way to make them eat their own words. And it'll be a lot of fun to watch, too." Bilbo snorted with contempt. "Then again, it's quite regrettable that Ori won't be here to sketch it."
"I don't have any poisons with me right now, Bilbo."
"Oh, there'll be no need for those, my friend. I have a much better idea."
"Vindictive hobbit…"
"No, that'd be Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Dreadful woman, that one."
"Fierce hobbit…"
"When it comes to the boys? Oh, yes. Very fierce."
"I'm starting to see that."
"Yeah, well, playing a game of riddles with a psychotic skeleton and snobby, fire-breathing dragon tends to do bizarre things to a person's sense of risk management. Now, give me the bag. I'd like to have my vengeance sometime today, please."
"No wonder you get along so well with Dís. Utterly ruthless and bloodthirsty, the both of you. Poor, poor Thorin…"
"I'm going to take that as a compliment."
Bilbo spent the next few minutes rooting through Óin's medical bag, so engrossed in his search that he didn't even notice Kíli and Bifur sitting down beside him. His supper of roasted taters, pork, and mixed vegetables lay forgotten, quickly falling victim to Kíli's sneaky fingers and hungry stomach. Already in a foul mood because of the morons who'd been picking on the young dwarf, Bilbo had no qualms about spoiling the boy today and a basketful of raspberry scones and Kíli's excited gasp of happiness was exactly what Bilbo needed to retain his sanity at the moment.
"When'd you make these?" asked Kíli around a mouthful.
"Earlier this morning," muttered the hobbit. He eyed a bottle of tonic with a crafty smile, tucking it into one of his waistcoat pockets while pushing Óin's medical bag back across the table to him. "I needed to use the fresh raspberries your uncle got me before they went rotten after this week. We'll have to ration the berry and fruit desserts until spring arrives, I fear." Bilbo patted Kíli's cheek when he pouted. "However, Bombur did promise to turn whatever I didn't use into some lovely jams and jellies, so it won't be too terrible. You've a hobbit living with you now, little bird. And we love our food."
"Mûkh khâli ma."
"Thank you, Bifur. I thought you'd like the cinnamon flavor. Just a pinch, but it's got a very distinctive taste with the raspberries, doesn't it?" He leaned down to Kíli's ear. "What'd he actually just say?"
Kíli shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. His Iglishmêk is easy enough to interpret, but I can't speak or understand Ancient Khuzdul. And that was some Ancient Khuzdul. Or, at least, I think it was. Hard to tell with Bifur."
"Are you finished for the day?"
Kíli nodded. "We had to practice inside because of the snow and wind. Several of the arrows blew off the battlements when we tried to use the outdoor archery range. It's a shame that the indoor one's still in such disrepair. There's a giant rock right in the middle of it."
"Well, at least you've got something to work with." Bilbo glanced over at Bifur's flailing hands. "And Bifur's right. I'm sure the high range practice will serve the trainees well. Erebor's terrain is anything but even and flat."
"I never thought of it like that," admitted the prince. "Hey, where's Frodo? Didn't he go with you to the library?"
"Not today," said Bilbo. "We had too much to do, with all of the numerous issues that dwarf clans seem to have with each other. He's with Dori right now. Probably being mothered in a way I'll never pull off in my lifetime."
"I bet Ori's glad that he's found a new victim," laughed Kíli. "That poor kid's not been allowed to have any fun for decades. Mmmm, these are good!"
The healer was just staring at Bilbo throughout all of this, his expression showing that he knew which bottle the hobbit had taken from his medical bag. He waited until Kíli and Bifur were thoroughly occupied with their meals, following Bilbo's shifty eyes across the room to where the skin-changers were eating their own supper. If there was anyone in the Company who could pull off dour and suspicious, it was Óin.
"What are you planning to do with that, Bilbo?"
The hobbit smiled innocently at Óin, absentmindedly patting Kíli on the head as he inhaled the scones in front of him. Bilbo could still hear the hushed conversation just behind him, sensitive ears picking up on their various mutterings about halflings and the bareness of certain princes. A vindictive streak a mile long was currently flowing to and fro inside the hobbit, the fingers of his unoccupied hand tapping at the green bottle full of spiteful goodness. Bilbo didn't personally care what the dwarves said about him since he was an unfamiliar and quite peculiar outsider to most of them. But saying cruel things about Kíli? That was unacceptable.
"I aim to misbehave."
And with a final pat to Kíli's messy head, Bilbo wandered off towards the kitchen and entered that familiar domain of lovely smells without a second glance. He'd provided occasional assistance to Bombur since his arrival, so most of the cooks and other workers were used to Bilbo drifting in and out of the food halls at random hours. And it wasn't more than a minute before Bilbo spotted the dwarf he was looking for, her back turned to him as she prepared several huge pots of beef stew.
"Good evening, Hania."
"Oh, hello there, Master Baggins," said the female dwarf with a wide smile. Three shiny beads were braided into her beard, something that Bilbo recognized with an internal cheer of happiness for Bombur. "What can I do for you this evening? Were the vegetables to your liking? I've tried to keep them as fresh as possible for Frodo and yourself, but I've little experience with them at the best of times."
"They were delicious, Hania. I do believe Bombur's found himself a rival when it comes to green dishes," praised the hobbit. "However, I've a little problem at the moment that I might need your help with…"
Bilbo explained the situation in very brief terms to Bombur's intended, the female dwarf scowling at the rude behavior of her loud-mouthed and bully-like kinsmen. Hania's reaction brought great relief to Bilbo since it showed that not all dwarves were as mean in their mind-set towards Kíli's unusual appearance. The sad tale behind Kíli's choice not to wear braids had shaken some of the high-opinion Bilbo had held the dwarves in, Thorin's angry scowl still etched into Bilbo's mind when the Dwarf-King had told him about three bullies chopping a thirty-year-old Kíli's braids off. Thorin himself had punished all of the offenders with the help of an equally pissed off Dwalin and Dís, but poor Kíli had refused to wear braids ever since that fateful day.
"I remember what those bastards did to the prince back in Ered Luin," said Hania, her plump face shadowed by an irate scowl. "Attacking a small child like that was disgraceful. Banishment and shearing was too kind a punishment for those judgmental whelps, in my opinion. And if there's such slandering talk going around, it'd be best to nip it in the bud right and early, I say."
"Will you be able to do it, though?"
Hania scoffed at him. "Of course! What kind of chef would I be if I couldn't give some loudmouth jerks the runs from their suppers. Just give me the bottle, tell me which table they're sitting at, and I'll have them shitting their trousers by sunset. The fools have no common sense from the sounds of it, either. A much needed lesson in propriety will do them some good. Talking about the young prince like that. My mother would've slapped them right over their granite heads if she'd heard such disrespect! Shameful to the whole line of Longbeards, is what it is."
"Just make sure to give it to them before they leave," reminded Bilbo. "And don't let them know that there's anything in—"
"Don't worry, Master Baggins. They won't suspect a thing," assured Hania, hands already preparing a slew of laxative-laced tarts for the offensive dwarves. "Finish up that other prank you mentioned and then sit back and watch the show. This dosage is perfectly safe, but they'll be feeling it within minutes."
Bilbo gave her a wide smile. "Thank you, Hania. I'm in your debt."
"Make me some of that amazing apple crisp that Bombur was bragging about last week and I'll call us even," said Hania with a wink. "Now let me work my magic. Giving dwarves the shits isn't easy business. Iron stomachs and all."
"I can imagine," laughed Bilbo. "They're right behind Kíli and Bifur. I should be back by the time you're done here."
"No problem."
Bilbo rummaged through a nearby cabinet before he left, pocketing a jar of honey for the second part of his vindictive plan. Reentering the primary mess hall, Bilbo turned to the right and approached the table where the skin-changers were eating their supper. It didn't take more than a few seconds for the leader to signal for him to have a seat, one of her comrades scooting to the side to make room for him. Only two of them were eating at the moment, the third wolf glancing around the huge chamber with a strong curiosity that seemed to pervade the entire group. An odd bunch with odd habits, had been Balin's very apt description of them last night.
"Can I help you, Master Hobbit?"
Unlike the other night, all of the skin-changers were now clothed in loose trousers and tunics, their feet still bare both by preference and necessity for future transformations. Currin's mass of curls and sharp nails at least looked clean now, a vast improvement over the filthy state she and the others had arrived in. Crouched down to eat at tables that were far too small for their towering statures, the skin-changers didn't look nearly as menacing as they had upon their entrance to the city. And if Currin's scolding of the badgers was any indication, then it appeared that the skin-changers weren't nearly as feral or animal-like as Bilbo had presumed in the throne room.
"Perhaps. I was wondering if it'd be alright for me to…borrow your badger kin for a few moments?" He placed the jar of honey onto the table. "They'll be rewarded for their assistance, I can assure you."
The she-wolf stared at him, bright golden eyes and slightly pointed ears assessing the smaller being for malicious intent towards her kin. When Currin seemed to find none, she gifted Bilbo with a toothy smile that was equal parts beautiful and terrifying, her chin resting on twined fingers as her comrades huffed in amusement. All three of them looked like oversized puppy dogs at that moment.
"I'm listening."
All it took was the mention of child-bullying for Currin to give him an affirmative on the borrowing of her badger kin. The only conditions that Bilbo had to meet for Currin was the assurance that Thorin would be okay with the prank, and that the stationed guards wouldn't try to skewer her kin during the act itself. It seemed that skin-changers had some mischief in them, after all.
"Warn off the guardsmen, set things up, and I'll be back within five minutes," said Currin, her kin sniggering at the show they'd be getting today. "Oh, and tell the princeling to stay out of their way this time around, okay? Getting between a badger and their honey is a good way to lose a limb or, in a male's case, their penis."
The other skin-changers snarled uproariously at that and Bilbo took it as an opportunity to excuse himself from the table of furry lunatics. He quickly went around and spoke with the mess hall guards, actively using his position as the King's intended, a central member of the Company, and a close friend of Dwalin to keep them at their posts while his pranks went down. Neither of them objected to Bilbo's requests, especially when he mentioned a certain royal's honor being the cause of this whole incident.
"What've you been doing?" asked Kíli.
"Oh, nothing much," said Bilbo when he sat back down amongst his friends. He noticed that Kíli was much more subdued now, his shoulders fidgeting whenever a laugh came from the other table of dwarves. It made Bilbo's Took blood boil in anger. "Did you eat all of my scones, little bird?"
"No, Bifur did."
"Ut kâhl!"
"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say, Bifur."
"Kíli…"
"What? I was hungry."
Throughout this whole conversation, Bilbo stealthily coated a small spoon in thick globs of honey and lightly flicked it underneath the table. Droplets landed on the calves of each dwarf at the table behind them. With a flick of his wrist, Bilbo rolled the now-empty honey jar backwards across the floor, smirking inwardly at the occasional groan or mutter that he heard coming from behind him.
"Hania brought some lovely tarts out," said Óin, a knowing grin on his face when he informed Bilbo of this. "Enough for almost everyone in the hall. Desserts like that will be hard to come by in the deep winter months."
"Oh, I'm sure."
A loud fart came from the other table. Kíli snickered. And then an even wetter and noisier one ripped through the air. Bifur nearly choked on his soup. The healer released a huge sigh in return.
"Whoa," coughed Kíli. "Now that's some potent gas right there."
"Might rival Glóin, I think."
"I never would've thought that was possible," said Kíli. "Damn, that's really…"
Another thunderous fart and groan came from the dwarf directly behind Bilbo, the hobbit internally cackling at the great success of his ingenious prank so far. He could hear the queasy rumbling of the dwarves' stomachs, their moans and groans of discomfort and distress becoming more prominent as the minutes passed.
"What is that smell?" shrieked a voice from another table. "Did Malor's mutt drag another dead carcass into the halls again?!"
"By Mahâl, I think it's in my mouth!"
And then Currin returned with the badgers in tow, her face impassive when their noses suddenly shot up into the air and started to sniff around the entrance. Both of them turned to walk toward the table where the distressed dwarves were sitting, Bilbo fighting back Tookish giggles of glee the entire time.
"What the…"
"Get off my leg, you wretched furball!"
"Ah! It's licking me!"
"Get outta my way! Where's the nearest washroom?!"
Bilbo watched all of this with a satisfied smile, not the slightest bit ashamed at the amusement he was receiving from the culmination of his prank. The noxious fumes could have been skipped, of course; but they were essential to making these dwarves understand that ruthlessly tormenting and harassing another person just wasn't right. So, when one of the foulmouthed dwarves turned around, Bilbo didn't hesitate to give the uncouth miner a nasty smirk.
Nobody messed with his boys and got away with it.
Bilbo's cleverness and ability to sneak around was always my favorite aspect of his character in the books. And I can easily imagine that Kíli would've been bullied for his appearance growing up, perhaps even more so as he ages and doesn't produce a proper beard. Many of the dwarves are also mentioned to use bows in the book, so I don't think Kíli's proclivity for 'elven weapons' or wearing an archer's sideburns would be a problem since it's obviously one of the main ways that dwarves hunt for food after the desolation. And how has no one ever heard of a honey badger before?
