I don't own The Hobbit. If I did, a lot of things would be different. like Bagginshield would be canon and..anyway, enjoy and don't forget to review!xx
I can see him sitting on a tiny little white bench gazing around in awe. Rivendell's beauty is only skin-deep. If he could see Erebor's beauty, the great stone walls, the glittering jewels I'm sure he'd be much more amazed. I sit by him. He looks up at me, green eyes widening.
"Halfling," I greet. "My brother tells me you like the Elves."
He looks confused. Master Baggins is not a Khuzdul speaker, though he has been trying to learn. "Brother...Elves..." He's trying to understand. I miss the days I could speak in the Common Tongue. Stupid, blasted ax. "Your brother likes the Elves?"
Holds back desire to throw him over conveniently situated balcony. Shakes head.
"Brother dislikes Elves?"
Well, yes. I give him a nod.
"Bofur dislikes Elves."
For Mahal's sake. "You," I say slowly, "like Elves?"
"You..Elves..I like Elves?"
I raise a questioning eyebrow. Am unsure whether he can see it because of ax in forehead.
"I do." He sighs as though he has been asked this before.
"Why?"
He can't mistake the question and squints up at me. "They're good." He says, stretching words.
There's no reason to speak so slowly. I'm not deaf. I shake my head. They're not.
"You know what? I've had enough of every single one of you blasted Dwarves telling me who I can and cannot like!" He declares. He slides off of bench and glares at me, looking like a pissed off hedgehog. "I can decide it for myself and I have and I will!"
I think he's getting mixed up now. The air of Rivendell must have something in it. I put head in hands. The Hobbit is surprisingly fast. He's now gone. I sigh. This hasn't gone very well.