The Hobbit Imagines

4. Bilbo x Reader

When Bilbo returned from his unexpected journey, you were overjoyed to say the least. For over a year. you had been waiting for him to write you with some explanation but it never came. Bilbo strolled back into the Shire as though he didn't even leave, as though he hadn't gotten a tan as well as a few scrapes and scars, as though he hadn't seen awful, horrible things. But when he had settled back in, and you had joined him one night for dinner, he told you everything.

At first you didn't believe him- and that was wrong of you. But who had heard of a hobbit riding a pony, battling orcs, or fighting a dragon?! It was something in his eyes, a sad sort of emptiness, that made you realise that it was all true. All those things he had suffered and endured along the way. He lost a very close friend, and a few other friends too. Bilbo cried while he told you about saying goodbye. And you comforted him.

Before Bilbo left, you had been the best of friends, and both of you knew that you wanted to be more. You probably would have courted had the timing of Bilbo's adventure not been so inconvenient. Needless to say, you felt exactly the same when he came back. Unfortunately, you couldn't tell if he did too. He kept to himself, spending all evening and night at the Green Dragon. It was strange to see someone you knew so particularly, so very changed and broken.

One afternoon in Autumn, you wandered over to his home, deciding to check in on him. You hadn't seen him for a few days and wanted to be sure that he was okay. Honestly, you couldn't help that you cared. When you knocked on the door, you were greeted with silence. So you knocked again. This time a gruff voice called "No visitors." It was Bilbo. Did he slur? Was he drunk again? Slightly shocked and irritated, you knocked once more. He shouted out "Didn't you hear me?! I said 'GO AWAY'!" Annoyed by his childish behaviour, you slipped the spare key out from under the plant pot beside his door step, and unlocked the door.

With a few clicks and cracks, you swung the door open and stomped in. The sight you beheld shook you to the core. Bilbo was slumped over in his armchair with a bottle of whiskey swinging loosely in his grasp. Scattered about the floor were several other empty bottles, all of which were alcoholic. The picture was repulsive. Bilbo blinked and raised his head to glare at you. Skin as pale as ice, his entire body radiated desperation. His eyes were red and black, his cheeks drained of colour. His head wobbled a bit but he maintained eye contact with you. "Get out." He growled. With a solemn face, you ignored him and strode towards the chair where he was curled up. He flinched as you approached and cast his gaze aside. Taking no notice of him, you crouched down and began to tidy away the bottles. You realised that some had been smashed, as there was glass strewn along the carpet. Bilbo had thrown them in a tantrum. He started to sputter protests "What are you doing? Stop it. Go away. Stop." And such. You continued with your task; you counted around fourteen bottles. Carrying them in your arms, you stood again and marched over to the bin. As you passed Bilbo, you snatched the one in his hand away from him. Drunkenly, he reached out for it and mumbled in contempt. You dropped the bottles in the bin, making sure the shattering of glass was audible enough for Bilbo to hear. Then, you glided back into the living room, stopping in the archway, not wanting to get any closer to him. You folded your arms and watched him disappointedly. His head was lowered in shame and he fumbled with his hands since losing his bottle. Bilbo almost reminded you of a child who had had his favourite toy taken away, except he was much more pitiful. "Leave me alone." He hissed. You replied in an authoritive manner "I haven't said anything yet." Tutting, he rolled his eyes "Yes, but I can feel you scolding me." He narrowed his eyes on the word feel. The sun was tumbling over the horizon, past the fields, casting fiery red rays through the window. Some of the light reflected off Bilbo's face, highlighting the dried tears. You could think of nothing to say but "What happened to you?" He huffed "You know what happened." You shook your head "No, I know what happened on the journey. What on Middle Earth possessed you to do this?" You gestured around the unkempt room. Bilbo just grumbled and closed his eyes. After a moment, he muttered "Dwarves are more fun than Hobbits." You scoffed "Yes I'm sure you're very well acquainted with the utmost hilarious dwarves in Erebor, but that doesn't answer my question. Why?" Something caught your eye, and you turned to see another empty bottle lying in the corner, reflecting the light onto your face. Losing your patience, you cried "For goodness sake Bilbo!" You grabbed it and shook it at him madly. You quivered with rage, as you barked "Is this about your friends? About the company? I know you are grieving! I've been as gentle as I can. But this is ridiculous. This-" you gripped the bottle tightly, holding it out to him "will never replace them. Never bring them back. Never fix any of your problems. And I-" You were interrupted by Bilbo, who raised his voice above yours "It's not about them! I have grieved for them!" You sighed "Then why?" Kicking his legs up on the footstall, he lent back in his chair and reached into his pocket. You snarled "I swear to god, if that is another bottle of drink, I will-" You stopped because you saw that he had taken a small acorn out of his jacket pocket. Bilbo admired it for a moment, before staring at you darkly "When I was away, I thought I wanted nothing more than to come back here. Now I'm back and there is nothing here for me. I miss the dwarves, the mountains, the company. I miss it all. But I'm stuck in this boring hole in the ground for the rest of my life." You watched him astonished and deeply angered. This was your home. It always had been. You, yourself, were one of the very few Hobbits who had ventured outside of the Shire. Your father had known the old wizard Gandalf and sought help from him many years back. He took you with him as you had lost your mother shortly before. First, you went to Bree, then to Rivendell and through the amazing forests and fields. It wasn't very far, and it wasn't for very long. But it was amazing. You understood Bilbo's situation, but that didn't make it okay for him to speak so unkindly of your home. "So that's it, huh? Now that you're Mr. Big Adventure, this place isn't good enough for you?" You narrowed your eyes at him and continued "You miss your magical quests and your ponies and wizards in pointy hats? That's your reason for drinking yourself stupid on a Sunday afternoon, in your home, alone." He nodded slightly. You began to laugh, but it was hollow and humourless "So, you're some sort of thrill seeker, but you can't be bothered to find the adventure in life. Instead, you pour this disgusting and toxic drink down your throat, just so you can believe that you're a little bit more exciting than you really are. One journey Bilbo, one, and suddenly you're too good for the people who raised you and loved you?" You felt tears forming in your eyes but you blinked them away "I should just leave you to wallow in your self-pity." Bilbo had a look of hurt and amazement in his eyes. His jaw hung ajar, and his eyes were wide in disbelief. Your chest heaved and you kept your eyes on him, a scowl etched into your face. He coughed, the alcohol sweeping through his blood. Adjusting his jacket and dusting off the cuffs, he replied "You don't know anything about adventures. You've barely left your garden before. It's not my fault I've found a better culture than you." That was it. You didn't care if it was the alcohol. "Better culture??" You echoed "Spending a year with dwarves isn't finding a better culture, it's forgetting your manners. You're pathetic Bilbo, stand up and look at yourself. I spent thirteen whole months waiting for you to come back so I could tell you how much I loved you and how much I missed you. But the man who came back is a pompous, selfish bastard who is beyond saving. And I don't ever want to see him again." Bilbo snapped out of his intoxicated state at this. He stuttered "But... I didn't mean. I wasn't talking about just you. I meant- I didn't-" You cut him off "Maybe you'll redeem yourself. Right now though, you are not worth the time of day. Sort yourself out, Bilbo. Then we'll talk." Trying to keep your fury intact, you spun and exited, dropping the bottle on the way out. It hit the carpet with a dull thud which echoed across the room.

As you left, you let one lonesome tear slip down your face. That was not the man you loved. And he may never be again. Your heart broke at the thought that you had lost your best friend on that journey. He was a stranger at most to you now. After all your patience and understanding, he had the audacity to say that to you! You wanted so badly to believe it was the drink, but something told you, you couldn't be more wrong.

Back in the Hobbit hole, Bilbo remained in his chair, staring blankly at the spot you had been in before you left. His heart threatened to stop beating from how upset he was. This was all his fault, if he had just told you that he was feeling claustrophobic from being back in Hobbiton, that awful argument wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have said those nasty things, and you wouldn't have left him. The voice of reason was there with him the whole time, but it was trapped inside. Bilbo knew he couldn't really blame the drink; the reason he said what he did was because he was bitter and moody and wanted to take it out on someone. But why did it have to be you? You, who had admitted you loved him. He loved you too. Fumbling with the acorn, he stood but had to pause because when he moved too fast, he felt sick and dizzy, and stumbled out of the door, into the front garden. He knelt down and began to dig. Using his hands would take him forever, but in his state, he did not think to get a shovel.

An hour later, Bilbo had planted the acorn deep in the ground and had even sobered up a little after subjecting himself to such a mundane task. While his head was clear, he began to formulate a way to apologise to you. When he meandered back into his home, he looked around. He really didn't hate this place, it had been in his family for years and he used to treasure it. The truth was, it was just boring. Nothing changed, nothing exciting happened. He missed that life but there were things in the Shire that he still loved and wanted. Things like you. Spying a half-empty bottle on his counter, he went to grab it, but pulled his hand away. The way he behaved was shameful and he needed to show you he was sorry.

That night, you sat alone in your living room, with only a few candles lighting the room a melancholic gold. Everything was silent, nothing moved. But your mind was unimaginably busy. It had occurred to you that you could always go and find Gandalf yourself. He might be able to help you with Bilbo. It's not like you'd never left the Shire before, despite what Bilbo said. He doesn't know you as well as he pretends to. A knock at the door disrupted your thoughts. You stood solemnly and approached the door. Opening it slightly, you saw it was Bilbo and on instinct you slammed it shut again. Your breathing quickened and your thoughts spiralled out of control. What could he possibly want from you anymore? He made it quite clear what his thoughts were on those who didn't have "as good a culture as him". The knocking sounded again. Slowly, you opened it and confronted him with your stare. Bilbo sighed, he looked a mess. His hair was wild and his eyes were dark. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. That was unforgivable I know, but I wanted to tell you that you were right. I'm pathetic, I'm poorly mannered and I'm not as exciting as I want to be. But Y/N, there are so many adventures out there waiting. We could see them together. I could show you the world." You rolled your eyes and said nastily "I don't need you to show me the world. I've seen plenty of it. Bree, Rivendell, many of the fords. You act like you're the only Hobbit with a story. Yet, you never stop to ask anyone else's." Bilbo paused "You've been to Bree?" You nodded. He smiled "You're full of surprises. Listen, what I meant was, even though there are hundreds of journeys waiting to be travelled, they would be worth nothing unless I was with you. You are my biggest adventure. And I'm not finished discovering you clearly. If you'll forgive me, I'd like to go away with you. To wherever the road takes us." He finished with a hopeful glint in his eyes. You sighed confused. This damned Hobbit. He was charming, funny, smart. But he was also drunk, obnoxious and lost. You supposed you were not much better than he, but something told you that going with him wouldn't be right. "I'm sorry Bilbo, I don't want to go away with you. I want to stay here." He nodded, still smiling brightly "Okay, we'll stay here." He took your hands in his and stepped closer to you "I said wherever the road takes us, and the road has to start somewhere. What better place than the very town where we met? I was wrong, there are still adventures to be had here. So, will you forgive me?" Biting your lip, you looked him up and down. This boy loved to mess around, but that's why you fell for him in the first place- he knew how to have fun, how to have an adventure. You nodded

"Okay, I forgive you."

Hey guys, here's another Bilbo x Reader story. I hope you liked it and if you did, don't forget to vote for it and tell me in the comments what you thought! I'm taking requests as always, so if you have any ideas feel free to message me or comment on any chapter! See you guys for the next one <3

~Niamh~