Disclaimer: The Hobbit was written by JRR Tolkien. Film Rights belong to New Line Cinema and partners.
-o-
ONE:
"We've got a nice routine case for you."
Not the most encouraging words to be greeted with first thing on a Monday Morning but Thorin Oakenshield acknowledged Bard's words with a grunt as he made his way to his desk. Always the first in, Thorin was wedded to his job as leader of the Company, the elite organised crime unit of Erebor Police for many personal reasons but mostly because he was really hoping one day to take down the bastards who had done so much harm to his city and his family. He turned to glance at Bard, his piercing sapphire glare calculating.
"Since when was anything routine in this business?" Thorin asked quietly, his tone dry. Bard shrugged.
"As routine as you can get," Bard murmured. He shrugged. "Round up your team. The briefing is in thirty." He tossed a file onto the desk and Thorin snagged it, opening it and staring at an unfamiliar face. He sighed and began to read.
By the time the other twelve members of the unit had assembled, Thorin was familiar enough with the material to lead the briefing and he swiftly led them into the seminar room. And then he faced his motley crew.
Thorin was regal, tall and self-possessed, his long raven hair very lightly streaked with grey and piercing blue eyes looking over a sharp nose and handsome face. His beard was neatly trimmed and he favoured dark blue and black. He folded his arms across his chest and watched his Company array themselves.
"We were contacted early this morning through a report of stalking," he began without preamble. There were universal groans.
"Stalkers are the worst!" Fili Vilison protested. One of the youngest in the group, the blond young officer was bright and responsible…unless he was being egged on by his younger brother, Kili. Both were in their first six months on the unit, allowed to join in a probationary capacity despite their inexperience due to lack of interest from anyone else for the replacement postings and their relationship to Thorin, who was their uncle. Kili rolled his blue eyes, his dark hair messy as usual.
"Completely," he said with the assurance of someone who had never been on a stalking case.
"Silence!" Thorin growled and the room fell silent. Though they were lively and outspoken, they all respected his authority and twelve pairs of eyes turned to him. He tapped his laptop and an image appeared on the screen behind him.
"This is Bilbo Baggins," he began. The face of a youngish man looked back, framed by loose honey curls and looking pleasant and kindly. "Thirty three, librarian at the University of Erebor, resident at 103, Dale Apartments, Erebor but originally from the Shire. Parents dead in car wreck five years ago, no siblings, no partner. Next of kin, one Drogo Baggins of Bag End, Hobbiton."
"Sounds the real life and soul of the party," Dwalin growled. A massive stump of a man with tattooed bald head and a permanent scowl, he was one of Thorin's Company's enforcers, an expert in tactics and most forms of weaponry.
"Apparently others thought that as well," Thorin continued. "He joined an online dating site two months ago. After a few weeks, he matched and after messaging back and forth, he went on his first date last week."
"With?" Balin asked. He was the oldest of the company, his eyes twinkling in his lined face. His hair was white and a full long white beard-forked at the end-reached his mid chest: astute and diplomatic, he had consistently declined all suggestions to retire though he had happily handed on the leadership role to Thorin as soon as the younger man was ready.
"Drago Smaug," Thorin announced. The image of the thin-faced man with golden eyes and short dark red hair stared hatefully back at them. There were gasps and exhales.
"Suddenly the stalker makes more sense," Bofur murmured.
"They went on one date to 'the Gold Depository' restaurant up on Erebor Heights," Thorin continued. "Baggins reported that Smaug seemed fascinated by him but the feeling was not mutual and he declined a second date. Smaug…did not take rejection lightly. He began bombarding Baggins with texts-over two thousand at the last count…"
"In a week?" Gloin muttered. Thorin nodded.
"His apartment was broken into and flowers were left everywhere-black roses and lilies," he continued. "Baggins felt he was being followed. His post was opened. And first thing this morning, his cat, Myrtle, was found dead on the doorstep. She had been disembowelled and a black rose laid on her corpse." There were looks of disgust on every face.
"That is a pretty fast escalation," Dori muttered.
"Smaug is a man with a history of getting what he wants and not tolerating any dissent," Thorin reminded them and the image changed again. "We have known him for years as the Head of the FireWyrm Crime Family…
"…allied with the Gundabad Gang, Yeah, we know!" Dwalin grumbled. Thorin cast him a pointed glance. Giving any sort of briefing to the Company was an extended exercise in patience and though he was a very patient man, he sometimes thought his team did it on purpose.
"He's evaded all efforts to dismantle his organisation for years. But this is a miscalculation!" Thorin's face grew more animated. "Finally, we have a felony we can use as a legitimate legal means to investigate his entire operation…and maybe…we can finally bring him down."
A silence fell over the Company. No matter that they were brash, rude, insubordinate, hard-headed, independent and fierce, the were all ferociously loyal to Thorin, their leader and friend and they knew the history all too well. For him, any mission involving Smaug and Gundabad was deeply personal. Balin cleared his throat.
"Aye, laddie-maybe we can-but let's focus on saving this Bilbo Baggins first, hmm?" he suggested in his kindly voice. The spell was broken and everyone moved again, with shuffling of feet and clearing of throats. Thorin nodded, a scowl descending over his features.
"Balin-you, Fili, Kili and I will go see this Baggins," he said firmly. "Dwalin, Dori, Bifur-security. The rest of you-make your preparations and head for location 23. This isn't going to be easy and we may need to go off grid for a period of time. We'll meet at Bree in two hours."
The room cleared but Balin paused, waiting as Thorin closed his laptop and switched off the projector. If he took a little longer than usual, it almost certainly wasn't because he wanted to delay whatever Balin had to say for him. But finally he looked up, his expression carefully neutral.
"Balin?" he said, his voice wary. The older man sighed.
"I know you hope this may be the back door, the key to getting Smaug but please remember this isn't about you," he said. He sighed. "Remember in this, there is a young man who never asked for any of this and seems to be in the cross-hairs of the man you have been pursuing for twenty-five years, the last fifteen officially. I don't think he signed up to be fixated on by a psychopathic mob boss…"
"He signed up…" Thorin mumbled.
"And I very much doubt Smaug's profile listed his occupation as 'mobster, multiple murderer and general calamity of Erebor' or his interests as 'stalking, murder, people trafficking, drugs, genocide and crochet'." Thorin raised an eyebrow. "He does crochet," Balin repeated. "One of the very few pieces of intel we have on him." Folding his arms, Thorin scowled again.
"I will try to remember," he conceded gruffly. "I will do my job, Balin. I don't want there to be any more victims either." Recognising the limits of his powers of persuasion, Balin nodded. He clapped his Chief on the shoulder.
"Now let's go and see the laddie," he said.
-o0o-
William Robert 'Bilbo' Baggins was having an incredibly bad day. It had just topped an awful week that had come at the end of…well, a dismal decade, to be honest. But the last straw had been finding poor Myrtle, murdered.
He closed his eyes and tried to expunge the image from his memory with little success. He was still trembling even hours later and he was not ashamed to admit that he had spent the few minutes after finding her in a mixture of fainting and vomiting interspersed with screams that had brought his neighbours running, along with the police. And then he had ended…here. Sitting in a police interrogation room with a polystyrene cup of very poor quality tea and some plastic-tasting crumbly mess that had been claimed as a Danish pastry, wondering if he had been forgotten. He shuffled his feet. On top of his previous complaints to the cops of the break-ins and the stalking, they had plucked him from his home without a by-your-leave and all he had was what he was sitting in, a plastic bag containing his washbag, computer, phone and the picture of his parents and cousins. And then they had left him here on his own for the last couple of hours.
He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache starting. How he wished he had not let Rakla Forkbeard in the Library persuade him that he needed to try a new start and attempt dating! Really, he was completely fine being alone, really he was. Since his parents had passed, he had become used to solitude. Several of his relatives thought him odd anyway and the Sackville-Bagginses couldn't resist making barbed swipes at him at any family 'Do' so he had gradually weaned himself off them until he just exchanged cards at Yule and birthdays and only really saw his cousins Prim, Drogo and of course, their tiny son Frodo. But out of work, he tended to read at home and avoid social situations and he had been dragged unwillingly to all library social 'Does' by Rakla and her coworkers, Estella and Pansy who had worked on him until he had finally signed up for the online dating site.
He groaned. They had spent the entire time persuading him that there was no way he wouldn't find a 'nice girl' on the site who could make him happy. Except a 'nice girl' was the last thing he wanted so he had nodded and signed up…and then agonised over his profile for days. In the end, he opted for complete honesty because what was the point in advertising himself as something he wasn't? And what was the point of dating someone who was only interested in a fake version of Bilbo? He was an unadventurous, moderately social-phobic, ancient language major who worked in a University library and not some hero, adventurer or flashy type. And if there wasn't someone out there for him, then so be it. But what he hadn't counted in was that other people would be less than honest on their profiles…
He almost jumped out of his seat as the door opened and four people walked into the room. Instinctively he stiffened, feeling very vulnerable and outnumbered. But he lifted his chin defensively and stared at the newcomers-all of whom were inspecting him with various degrees of interest. There were two much younger men hanging back, one blond and one dark haired with a similarity in their features that suggested kinship. Both had the standard beards for Erebroeans, the younger's a rather scrappy affair and both were relaxed in casual jeans, sweaters and denim jackets. An older man-shorter than the others-was smiling benignly over his impressive long white beard, his kindly expression reassuring. But the leader-and easily the tallest of the officers-drew the eye. His piercing blue eyes inspected Bilbo with cold interest, dominating handsome features framed by long raven hair, streaked lightly with grey. His bearing was regal and upright as he settled in the chair opposite Bilbo, his expression stern. He was dressed in an expensively tailored black suit with a deep blue shirt, open at the neck and Bilbo felt his pulse accelerate.
Why couldn't this guy have been on the website instead of Smaug?
He mentally slapped himself and waited for the officer to speak.
"Bilbo Baggins." The voice was deep and measured as well. A voice he could listen to all night. Well, this was going to be dreadful. "I am Thorin Oakenshield, leader of the Company." Bilbo frowned. "We are the unit assigned with investigation your case and ensuring your safety."
"Ah." Thorin's eyes narrowed at the tone.
"First we need to go over a few things…" he said professionally.
"Like how it's my own fault for going on that website?" Bilbo found himself snarking back. Thorin's face froze-almost as if he had been caught out. "That's pretty much what all the other officers have said-or implied. My own fault for advertising for a date. For matching with someone who clearly lied about himself on his profile. I mean, I wouldn't have 'liked' someone who listed stalking, breaking into people's homes and murdering their cats as a potential date!"
There was an awkward pause almost broken by muffled sniggering from the younger officers. The white-bearded officer hissed an admonition to the them in Khuzdul.
"Respect, lads. At least pretend you're adults."
"I understand this has been difficult for you," Thorin said stiffly. Bilbo narrowed his eyes. "And no, none of this is your fault. The man who is pursuing you is the only guilty party. You have a right to…seek companionship in any legal way you can without being hounded by a psychopath."
There was a pause and then Bilbo relaxed a fraction.
"Thanks. Yes. I'm sorry," he managed. "I guess finding Myrtle like that was…horrible. really horrible. She was a complete softie…she's never harmed anyone or anything and she was just…" He stopped and Thorin exhaled.
"Can I just check a couple of facts?" he asked gravely. Bilbo nodded, his hands visibly trembling. "You registered for the website from your personal computer? You didn't use an open or university terminal?" Bilbo shook his head.
"Contrary to what it looks like, I am actually a really private person," he sighed. "And no, I didn't want anyone else to know."
"You communicated solely through the messaging function of the website?"
"Absolutely."
"And you never revealed your address, phone number or personal email?"
"No." Then Bilbo sighed. "Look, when we messaged, he seemed…okay. Not perfect but I haven't really dated for…years. A long time. So I thought it would be nice to go out with someone who seemed to share some interests and…well, I agreed to go on a date."
"And what were your aims?" Thorin asked him, scanning his face. "Friendship? Romance? Sexual relationship? Casual hookup?"
Bilbo flushed to the tips of his ears. For someone who had spent most of his life burying his personal feelings and shying away from overtly discussing his sexuality, relationships or anything personal, hearing the words spoken bluntly by this remote and ridiculously attractive man made him feel about an inch tall.
"I was really just looking to see if I could find someone…to go out with. A friend…maybe more, maybe not. Certainly nothing…casual or…" His voice petered out and the white-haired officer cleared his throat.
"Thorin…" he warned.
"So he had no legitimate means of finding out your personal details," Thorin said quietly. "And you declined further contact."
"The moment I met him, I realised it was a mistake," Bilbo admitted. "He was nothing like he said he was. There was something…terribly off. He felt…cruel, insincere…dark…" He sighed. "He made my skin crawl, to be honest. I only finished the date to be…polite. And because I thought walking out might be a mistake…"
"Meeting him was the mistake," Thorin told him bluntly and then shook his head. "But you are correct. He may not have permitted you to walk away." Then he glanced up. "We need to get you to a safe location. My men are preparing it as we speak." Bilbo sighed.
"Can I go back and get…?"
"I'm afraid not, laddie," the white-haired officer said. "Balin Fundinson, by the way." He cast Thorin a pointed look that he completely ignored. "Smaug is likely to have your home under surveillance and returning there would grant him the opportunity to track you-and find you." Bilbo stared at him.
"You think he's that dangerous?' he asked.
"He's taken your rejection as an invitation to ignore your wishes," Thorin told him in a low growl. "The rate of escalation and the violence shown indicate he is likely to disregard all concerns for your safety-and for your life and liberty." He looked up and sighed. "The others are Fili and Kili." He gestured to the younger officers.
"At your service, Master Baggins," the two younger officers said in unison-and Bilbo found himself dredging up a small smile at their enthusiastic grins. Thorin rose and nodded. "Come," he said. "The longer we tarry, the more likely Smaug is to have this station under surveillance." And with that, he rose and swept out, the others following. Balin glanced over his shoulder.
"Come on, lad," he said encouragingly. "Thorin may be a little…taciturn…but he and the Company will do everything in their power to keep you safe." Bilbo swallowed.
"Are you sure that's necessary?" he asked. With an apologetic smile, Balin nodded.
"Absolutely," he said. Rolling his eyes, Bilbo rose, grabbed the pathetic plastic bag that contained all he appeared to be allowed of his possessions and followed them.