A/N So this one is really long, and I am not 100% sure if I am done writing it yet so I am uploading it here and if I decide to continue writing it I will pull it and make it its own book.
I wrote this with John as a hobbit and Sherlock as a elf/human half-blood. THERE IS SMUT IN THIS . In this, John is a depressed hobbit who dreams of getting out of the Shire, and Sherlock is a friend of Thorin and Bilbo's (in this Thorin lived and married Bilbo and they live together in Erebor) that is in the Shire to collect some things for Bilbo. They meet in a tavern and have an instant connection. Let me know what you think. If you all like it, I will continue the story.
It was another boring day in the Shire, and I had been called to work in the tavern for the night. I had been working there since I was young, and the routine had become mundane. I rinsed the mugs and wiped down the counter, forcing pleasant smiles at the merry hobbits that stumbled through the door. Life here was boring; the only thing interesting about the town being the news we had received only a month or so ago. The hobbit Bilbo had married the King under the Mountain. I remembered Bilbo, a quiet, grumpy hobbit that liked the rules and boringness of the shire, just like everyone else here.
"John, you awake in there?" A semi-familiar voice cut through my thoughts, jolting me and causing me to nearly drop the mug I was holding. I caught it and glanced at the hobbit standing there before me. He was young, much too young to be in here. My mind supplied his name, Frodo; he was somehow related to Bilbo.
"What are you doing in here Frodo? You know you aren't allowed in here. If your uncle catches you-"
"I know, I know. I just wondered if you knew anything about the stranger." He looked at me with hopeful green eyes, looking to me to answer his questions.
"What stranger?" I was confused; I hadn't heard anything about a stranger coming into the shire. Frodo's face contorted with a look of surprise that only deepened my confusion.
"The one sitting in the corner, he has been there for hours." How long had he been daydreaming? He glanced over and saw a strange man sitting at the corner table. The tavern had one table that had been built for the wizard Gandalf. This stranger was seated at this table. He was almost too tall for the table. He looked almost elven, but there was something almost, human about him.
"Tell you what, I will go talk to him and if he tells me anything interesting I will come find you tomorrow. Does that sound good?" I walked around the counter, pushing the young hobbit out the door, closing it behind him. I turned and walked back to the counter, grabbing one of the mugs that had been made for the wizard and filling it with ale. I walked over to the tall man and cleared my throat, hoping to get his attention. He had his fingers placed in a steeple against his lips, one of his eyebrows lifted at the sound I made and he smirked.
"So, what does the young hobbit want you ask me?" his voice was deep and it echoed off the insides of my mind, reverberating through my soul. I had to shake myself back to reality.
"What do you mean? I just came over to make sure you had something to drink." I stuttered, trying to compose myself. He was unnaturally beautiful, with high, sharp cheekbones and pale skin. He opened his eyes and my very being was filled with awe. His pale blue eyes were filled with amusement as he looked at me.
"That young hobbit that you just threw out of here has been watching me since I came into your little Shire. I presume he came in to ask you if you had spoken to me yet so I repeat; what does he want you to ask me?" He hadn't moved while he was talking, only closing his eyes, leaving me a little sad at the loss. His voice was sending chills along my spine. How was he doing this?
