Bagginshield Fanfics

Mead Makes for Loose Lips

Credit goes to Fantasyinallforms on AO3

Summary:

Celebrations after reclaiming Erebor lasted weeks. The day after the battle, Dains's men started to clear the mountain to make room for people to settle. They uncovered an entire room in the kitchens filled with untouched barrels of mead. They immediately cracked one open, and the party began. They had much to celebrate. The war had been won, the elves had gotten their diamond trinkets, and the humans had enough money to start rebuilding their livelihoods. Now the dwarves of Erebor could focus on what the future held for themselves. But not before drinking themselves into a stupor first. Even the King of Erebor was not exempt from the festivities, though his mind was not on their victory but on a future he might have ruined his chance at ever having.

come get your drunken love confessions with a side of pining!

Celebrations after reclaiming Erebor lasted weeks. The day after the battle, Dains's men started to clear the mountain to make room for people to settle. They uncovered an entire room in the kitchens filled with untouched barrels of mead. They immediately cracked one open, and the party began. They had much to celebrate. The war had been won, the elves had gotten their diamond trinkets, and the humans had enough money to start rebuilding their livelihoods. Now, the dwarves of Erebor could focus on what the future held for themselves. But not before drinking themselves into a stupor first. Even the King of Erebor was not exempt from the festivities, though his mind was not on their victory but on a future he might have ruined his chance at ever having.

The bottom of a bottle probably wasn't the smartest place to be when your entire soul yearned for the mere presence of a single person. Thorin emptied his second mug of mead and looked into the crowd. As always, his eyes drifted effortlessly to Bilbo. He was sitting on top of a table with a mug far too big for him, loudly telling a story to a captivated audience. They were enamored by him, and why wouldn't they be? Everyone heard from his own lips how integral Bilbo had been to their quest, how he saved Thorin's life on numerous occasions. Thorin got up to fill his cup and found Dain doing the same.

"Eyyy, there ya are, cousin! Why do you look so damn glum! Even when we were kids, you couldn't help a good brooding session. The war is over! Drink your fill and have some fun. There's plenty of company here to be had!" Dain broke into a raucous laugh and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Thorin rolled his eyes and let out a huffing laugh. No company would be warming his bed this night or any other night. The thought of a tumble in the sheets with a dwarf might have once been an entertaining idea, but no longer. He could not imagine wanting anyone other than Bilbo under him in the small hours. That pleasantly plump body and adorably round face and perfect slightly upturned nose. Being as down the bottle as he was, his mind could not concentrate on the thoughts in his head, walking and drinking simultaneously. He tripped and sloshed half his mead down the front of his tunic.

"Careful there, laddie. This mead's been sitting for 60 years; she's a strong brew." Dain's boisterous laughter turned the heads of the tables nearest to them, which included Bilbo's.

"Perfect timing! Our brave Kings of legend! Fearsome leader of the great dwarven clans himself! And the king of the Iron Hills who came to Erebor's rescue!" Bilbo had lept up on the table and dipped into a low bow. Thorin didn't like seeing Bilbo bow to him or anyone. Bilbo shouldn't bow to people. People should bow to him. He should be decked out in only the finest the world had to offer and treated like royalty. The hobbit before him had no idea how much power he wielded. Bilbo remained blissfully unaware that he could have a king on his knees for him with only a single command. There was nothing Thorin would deny him. To his dismay, there was also nothing Bilbo seemed to want from him.