It's worth fighting for

by elveriamoir

A collection of one-shots, that may or may-not be linked or in order about the characters from the hobbit. I am open to suggestions, but there will be at least fifteen chapters. I would love to hear what you happen to think about them. there may be slash/durincest involved please do not flame me for it.

35. Spy

AN: I do not own any of the characters or places in the hobbit, they belong to Professor Tolkien and he would kill me for how I have corrupted them.

Spy.

Bilbo had known he was different for a long time. It wasn't because he was a combination of Took and Baggins blood. Nor was it that his eyes were of the most emerald green or his hair like burnished copper. Nor was it his love of books over conversation. No what had told him he was different was the fact he found very little to attract him to his fellow hobbits. It wasn't until he stumbled across a group of dwarves camped on the Shire borders that he realised just how different he was.

The snow fell softly from the lead-grey sky, settling lightly on frost painted trees and grass. A northly wind blew and most hobbits were carefully encased in their smials in front of a roaring fire and surrounded by families. As Bilbo had no one, his smial felt lonely and he got bored if he sat for too long he was out with the light of dawn and wandering the leafless woods of the Shire. A deep drumming caught his attention and he slipped between the trees, soundless despite his added weight and nigh on invisible in his rich brown cords and jacket. Unaware he slipped passed three look outs and was brought up short by the sight that met his eyes.

Despite the cold the group of dwarves stood in boots and breaches, muscles gleaming in the harsh winter light. Bilbo's breath caught in his throat as his eyes roved over the flesh on display. Dark tattoos swirled across pale skin and metal glinted from where it was nestled among wiry chest hair. When he was finally able to breathe properly he allowed himself to enjoy the view. His eyes alighted on a dwarf that stood a head above his fellows, clearly barking orders as the rest followed his movements. Despite his bulk the dwarf moved fluidly, the axes in both hands causing his muscles to flex and put on a show. Despite the Mohawk and scars Bilbo found his stomach fluttering and heat rushing through his veins. Each move the dwarf made was controlled and measured, Bilbo's mind played him images of just what else that strength could be used for. His eyes skittered across the bare chest and he imagined curling his fingers into the hair there, imagined finding out what was the reason for the metallic glint. He breathed heavily as his eyes settled on the knuckle-duster covered, massive hands on the handles of those axes. Imagination running riot he stepped forward despite himself, drawn towards the strange dwarf. A loud shout woke him from his haze and he darted into the shadows of the trees even as the Mohawked dwarf looked up.

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Bilbo rushed to answer the door, having completely forgot that Gandalf was coming to tea. It took his memory only seconds to catch up with who the dwarf at the door was, even without the Mohawk. Bilbo blinked once, twice and then promptly passed out.

AN: Leave me a review and let me know what you think please.