This Is My Idea
Summary: It would be barbaric to make one person marry another, even if they are royalty. However, the suggestion of such was encouraged. Thorin Oakenshield and Bramble Baggins did not like such ideas. Modern Royalty AU. Fem!Bilbo. Bagginshield.
A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for a href= " post/40758363878/angel-coulby-as-bilbo-bramble-baggins-burglar." her Angel Coulby photo set/a. Title is from the song of the same name from The Swan Princess on which this fic got its start, but the story is not at all like the cartoon.
Chapter I: Secrets
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Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…
Thain Gerontius, despite any illusions to otherwise by certain *cough* American *cough* sources, was merely a figurehead for the country of Shire. He and the Queen of England often traded jokes on which was more useless: blue police boxes or modern royalty. Answer? Unknown. Both brought in plenty of tourism from Americans.
The Shire had the highest per acre production of food in Europe. It had low industrial revenue, but that was what trade was for. It was a peace-loving country that had not been at war since the sixteenth century but was often a place for refugees to come for safety from their persecutors.
This small country's closest ally was Gondor. The Hobbits (as the residents of the Shire preferred to be called) ignored Gondor neither liking nor disliking them. Gondor was polite though "just a bit too nosy" about the Shire. Part of this was due to the Shire seceding from Gondor during the Reformation. (The words of the Thain at the time were roughly translated as, "We don't mind disagreeing with you as you love our Savior, but you can go take a long walk off a short pier if you think you can be messing about with our Mass.")
The Shire's second closest ally, Erebor, was another story entirely. They were a mining country with an active royal family. They had industrial revenue along with its natural resources. Erebor's people were known for their limited interactions with their neighbors. "Highly rude" some called it. "Strange" others said.
However, if the Shire needed something built, it was to Erebor they went. Though never kind, Erebor had fair prices and honest workers. If only they were just a bit friendlier…
The Thain had attempted to sooth his people's feelings towards Erebor all his long reign, the longest in the history of the Shire and still counting. Thain Gerontius had twelve children and a multitude of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. King Thrór of Erebor had only one son and three grandchildren as well as his first great-grandchild (the two-year old Princess Fíli) and a second great-grandchild soon to arrive in this world.
It would be barbaric to make one person marry another, even if they were royalty. However, the suggestion of such was encouraged. Gerontius, Thrór, and Thráin had all married such suggestions. Dis, the only daughter of Thráin, had married a lower lord which did not enhance political alliances, but was still considered a decent match.
There was still hope of an alliance through the two sons of Thráin: Thorin and Frerin. Gerontius and Thrór often had their descendants meet and play together as children or attend school together. Unfortunately, nothing substantial had ever happened beyond a few friendships and one almost-diplomatic incident between the eldest prince of Erebor and the only child of the Thain's oldest daughter. (The less said about that the better, Gerontius and Thrór thought.)
The last hope for the Thain and the King for a marriage alliance between their families was the parties the two kingdoms threw every year.
That was their idea anyway. Such things do not often go according to plan.
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The party was not Princess Belladonna Bilbo Bramble Baggins' idea of fun.
All Bramble Baggins wanted to do was sit at home in her armchair and read one of the many books she owned. She did not want: her hair straightened, re-curled, pinned, and hair sprayed until it would not move; to be painted several times over; to be laced up in a tight corset (though she would admit that her breasts looked lovely in the dress); and, worse of all, wear not only shoes, but high-heeled shoes. All this effort was for one of the Thain's parties with the not so subtle intention of marrying off family members.
Oh, Gerontius tried to be sneaky about it, but he failed miserably. If the Old Took wanted to pretend to be a clever mastermind of matchmaking, let him. A man who had ruled for almost seventy years was allowed a few quirks.
Bramble flipped open her fan and not so daintily waved it at her face. Corsets: good for boobs and posture, not so good for remaining cool. She felt a tug at her A-line skirt which she immediately knew belonged to one of her young cousins who should have already been in bed.
"Lady Bramble," Lady Primula Fantasia Brandybuck said, "Will you tell me a bedtime story?"
Bramble smiled widely. "Of course, Lady Primula." She gave a small curtsy which made the child giggle.
After receiving permission from Primula's parents, Bramble led Prim back to the guest room the young girl shared with some of her other female cousins for the party. Prim was distantly related to Bramble, but the two of them got along better than some of Bramble's cousins her own age due to a love of stories. Bramble took Prim through a "secret" passage in a library on the same floor as the ballroom and gardens to the private area of the royal family. (It was actually put in because it amused the Old Took's father back when the palace was originally built.)
"Why are you a Lady, cousin?" Prim asked.
Bramble gave a reassuring squeeze to the five-year-old's hand. Royal connections were hard to keep up with, even if one was nearing middle-age.
"Well, I am technically a princess, but that just means I am a female related to the royal family. I chose to go by Lady because my father was a knight. It is less scary for people who don't know me like you do, Prim," Bramble said.
They entered the private wing of the royal family's home and found Prim's governess almost immediately. After getting Prim ready for bed, Bramble tucked her in for her story.
"Can you read me one of Bilbo Underhill's fairy stories? I like the one about the Trolls wanting to eat the Dwarves," Prim said.
It was a not-so-well-kept secret that Bramble was Bilbo Underhill, a children's author who wrote almost entirely about comedic fairy tales. Bramble had been able to keep it secret from the literary public for two years before it was leaked. J.K. Rowling's crime novel had been revealed around the same time, so Bramble was able to keep her name and Bilbo's from being connected on Wikipedia. The information was on the internet, but the press had not cared, which Bramble liked. Prim was one who did not know such things and it warmed Bramble's heart that Prim honestly liked her stories.
Prim was sated with the story of the clever Hobbit, the not-so-clever Dwarves, and the outright-not-clever Trolls. If the leader of the Dwarves was based on a certain windbag that irritated Bramble, well, no one needed to know.
Bramble went back through the secret passage to avoid any nosy cousins. She closed the moving bookcase and rested her head against it. She took a deep breath and sighed. Back to the party.
"Good evening, Lady Baggins."
Speaking of windbags…
Bramble turned around and curtsied. "Your Royal Highness." She avoided looking at Thorin.
The Future King of Erebor stood by the large window in the library that looked over the garden and some of the mingling. He was dressed in a simple tuxedo with a gold pocket square. He had grown out his beard, making him look older than he was to counteract criticisms of him looking too young.
Not that Bramble paid any attention to such things. Or Thorin. Or anything related to the bane of her existence. Not his career, political aspirations, or love life. Nope. She did not pay any attention at all. (At least, that's what she told herself.)
"Are you hiding out from the party as well, Burglar?" Thorin asked.
Bramble wanted to cry, scream, and sigh all at the same time. She did not want to think about that day again. He always brought the topic up whenever they met.
"No, sir. I was tending to one of my younger cousins who had stayed up past her bedtime," she said.
"Ah, so you have actual excuse for hiding out, unlike me," Thorin said.
"I suppose so, sir."
Thorin chuckled and motioned around him. "Our tutors are not here to scold us, Burglar. You can call me Thorin like you used to."
"No thank you, sir."
Thorin's mood changed from amused to focused. "And why not?"
"I do not wish to, and you cannot make me," Bramble said.
Thorin moved towards her with his hands behind his back. She crossed her arms in front of herself in a vain attempt of defense. He stopped just in front of her.
"But why though?" Thorin said.
"We're not… not friends. Allies, certainly, but not friends… sir." If it made him uncomfortable enough to leave her alone, aggravating Thorin would be worth it. Bramble nearly cursed as she had not seen a grown man use puppy eyes before.
"We're not friends?" he asked softly.
"Are you that big of an idiot? How can we be friends when we stole the Arkenstone, the most prized possession of Erebor, and it was me who was punished and you who didn't even receive a scolding? I was shoved off to boarding school and didn't see my parents for four years because of you! You are a cruel man, sir," Bramble said. She gasped and covered her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out so crassly." She closed her eyes. "Don't… please don't do something to hurt the Shire. It's just me that said it."
Bramble tried not to shake. She felt years of training melt away and she was back to the day when she was nine years old being berated by King Thrór and the Thain. Words like treason and broken alliances were tossed about. Here she was, once again, ruining everything for the Shire. Bramble Baggins would forever be known as the woman who led to the downfall of…
Why is Thorin kneeling?
"I beg your forgiveness, Lady Baggins, for any hurts I have caused you," Thorin said. He looked at the hem of her skirt and not at her eyes.
"Um… what?"
Thorin looked up. "I had no idea you were punished for stealing the Arkenstone with me. I was told you had to go home because your mother needed you. My punishment for stealing the Arkenstone was to only speak with you at public events until we were both of age at twenty-one. After that, our friendship had cooled as such things often do with time and separation. I did not realize it was because of a lie that…" His hands clenched in a fist for a moment, but then relaxed. "I ask for your forgiveness for any harm I have caused you."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Oh."
She twisted her gloved hands together. Thorin had always been and continued to be a terrible liar. It was part of the reason he gave long speeches so reporters would drift off when important information was given that Erebor would rather not give out. He seemed genuinely not to have known he had hurt her.
Bramble did not want to forgive the little boy who had gotten her into so much trouble, but she did want to forgive the man who had now understood his actions as a child.
"Apology accepted, sir. And no kneeling, please. It'll ruin your suit."
Thorin stood up and looked at Bramble with wide eyes. "If there is any way I can make reparations…"
"I am afraid there is nothing you can do and nothing I would want you to do." She sighed. "Except please stop calling me Burglar."
"Of course."
They were silent for a moment. Bramble was unsure what she was supposed to do next. Princes did not apologize, and she had not expected Thorin not to have known about the extent of what had happened with the Arkenstone.
Frerin burst into the library and slammed the door behind him. "I think I've lost them," he said as he tried to catch his breath while resting his head against the door, "Are all the Shire-Folk like this? Trying to snog anyone who isn't married?"
"I am afraid that they are rather enthusiastic at parties unless one is attached," Bramble said.
Frerin made a squeaking noise as he spun around and faced Bramble and Thorin. "Well, Thorin, you could have at least warned me that you picked up company along the way."
Thorin glared and Bramble rolled his eyes. "Prince Frerin, I had just tucked my young cousin into bed, and I ran into your brother while I was preparing myself to return to the party. If you will excuse me." She curtsied to both and ignored protocol for dismissal.
Bramble tried to ignore what felt like something in her chest being ripped apart.
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A/N: Happy Destruction of the Ring Day! My apologies for not posting this sooner. It has been finished for years. I just honestly forgot about it through the haze of depression and chronic illnesses. Hope this is a bright spot during quarantine during Coronavirus.
Yes, I played the song "This Is My Idea" from The Swan Princess on repeat for this chapter. Yes, I felt the need to poke fun at America's obsession with royalty. When I began this piece, I was supposed to have them kiss and make-up in the library. And then they felt the need for ANGST. I swear, you leave two characters alone for three seconds and they've spawned a long-fic.
This fic came along from seeing all of these Modern Royalty AUs of The Hobbit lying around and they're awesome. However, I was reminded of a href =" post/87766923823/the-wealthiest-of-middle-earth#notes" this post/a and went, "I want to see those two dorks as equals socially as they should be." (I've seen only two fics so far where Bilbo and Thorin are both royalty.) Combine that with "This Is My Idea" popping up while I was pondering new story ideas and you end up with this.