LOTR/Hobbit Imagines

Bagginshield - The Way to a Hobbit's Heart

Bilbo always favored late afternoon walks over morning strolls.
Though he knew most of his neighbors wouldn't agree with him and probably would think of him as even more peculiar than they already did if they knew, he just couldn't help himself.

You see, it was the way the sun hung low in the sky, giving everything it shone upon a warm golden glow. Furthermore, as most of the hobbit community was too occupied prepping the most important meals of the day, the town was practically deserted.
This meant Bilbo could enjoy the beautiful sceneries in peace without having to get involved in friendly banter and polite greetings. And finally - the temperature was nor too warm or too cold, which was just perfect.

But there was nothing better than an afternoon walk in early spring. Birds were building their nest, flying past his head with twigs in their little beaks.
It reminded him of that one time a thrush had landed on Lobelia's straw hat and had absolutely wrecked the damn thing. It took her a while to notice and Bilbo had had the greatest difficulty in keeping a straight face. She went running through the Shire afterwards, screaming about a vicious bird attack.
Since that day he couldn't help but snicker every time he saw a thrush.
Yes, Bilbo loved his walks indeed. But he loved his home just as much.

It wouldn't be long before any respectable Hobbit started working in their garden again after the winter break and every yard and patio would get overflowed with a soft and subtly sweet flowery scent.
It wasn't any different in his garden.
The flower buds of the early bloomers were starting to show, some of them already in their lovely, bright colours. Just a few more days and he could bury his nose in the daffodils, tulips or primroses, taking in their flowery scent.

It was a moment Bilbo looked forward to every single year, but now he could finally share it with his husband Thorin.
To everyone's surprise, this grumpy dwarf had warmed up to the art of gardening. Under Bilbo's patient supervision, they were able to turn their neglected patch of land into the beautiful garden it was today.

Bilbo smiled to himself at the thought of his husband.
He came a long way to get here... Both of them did. Literally and figuratively.
Thorin had been under a lot of stress for a long time without barely any chance to breathe: the rebuilding of Erebor, restoring trade agreements, bringing his people back to the mountain, ... It never stopped and he was close to getting a burn-out.
Bilbo had seen it coming from miles away and had raised the alarm on Thorin's health. Bilbo's home in the Shire proved to be the perfect place to get a much needed break from ruling a Kingdom.

The mountain was in good hands with Fíli and Kíli as his advisor - Balin was still there to keep an eye on them - and the peace and quiet of the Shire was wearing off on Thorin. He was finally able to relax and enjoy the time with Bilbo.
Even so, they couldn't stay away forever and they'd made plans to return to the mountain before the annual Durin's Day celebration.

That didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the time that was still left. Bilbo continued his way on the path that would eventually lead him back to his home, he stopped when he smelled something odd.
He sniffed a few times, tilting his head sideways. What in the...?

Bilbo couldn't tell what the smell reminded him of, and yet it somehow seemed familiar.
Was Lobelia trying to burn down her house again with another attempt at copying his famous rabbit stew?
The closer he got to his home, the stronger the scent became. It couldn't come from his house now, could it? Thorin was home so nothing serious could have happened.
Bilbo's eyes widened.

Thorin was home... alone.

"Oh dear," he murmured.
Thorin was not yet entirely used to living like a hobbit, still adjusting to life in the Shire. The more delicate, joie-de-vivre way of life that suited the hobbits didn't always go well with the sturdy, rather head-on approach and maybe a tad brute way of the Dwarrows. He definitely wasn't the domestic type. Yet.