The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings -oneshots II

Comforts of home - Bilbo

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff!
Word count: 849
Other: -
Requested: nopety nope

When Bilbo returns home from his adventures, he expects to find an empty and cold home, but when he opens the front door, he is proven wrong.

Bilbo's step was heavy as he trudged through the paths of Shire. He could see Bag-End looming in the distance, the promise of home giving his legs the strength they needed to carry him the remaining way. He blocked out the whispers and gossip that had surrounded him the moment he had entered the Shire. The people had thought that he was dead, but now he was back, carrying all kinds of things that were highly unsuitable for respectable hobbits.

He pushed open the door to his house, and when he didn't meet the cold and dark inside he was expecting, but warmth, light, and the smell of food, he froze.
"Who is it?" Tears welled in his eyes as he recognized your voice. You had stayed in his house, remained there even if everyone, by the looks of it, had tried to convince you that he was gone and that he would never return.
"How can I help - Bilbo?" You froze, just like he did, when you laid your eyes on him, staring at him like you had seen a ghost. The shield on his back and the chest in his arms fell to the floor as he opened his arms to welcome the embrace you ran into.
"They tried to tell me you were dead, but I knew, I knew you would come back." You sobbed into his neck, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as well as his.
"I am here. I am here and I do not plan on going anywhere anytime soon." He assured you and clung to you tighter. The horrors of the journey were no behind him, and he could, for the first time in months, relax properly.

You help him with his things, stacking them into a neat pile as he slowly unloads everything else he had been carrying. His clothes are worn and caked in mud, and you scrunched your nose, tugging at his jacket.
"Why don't you go and take a bath, there should be warm water left from when I took a bath earlier today. I'll take these to the wash." He is utterly thankful and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before he hurries to take a bath. He knows that even though you didn't say it outright, he stinks.

It takes him forever to bathe, he feels that the grime gathered on his skin would never wash away, and he rubs his skin until it's red and raw. He dresses into the clothes you had brought to him, having to roll the waist of his pants so they would stay up. When he steps out of the room, fully dressed, you are there in an instant.
"Look at you, you are thin as a reed!" You bemoaned as you pushed him an arm's length away from you.
"We'll have to fatten you up and get you looking like yourself again." Bilbo let out a gentle laugh as you pulled him to follow and seated him onto the table with your hands on his shoulders. You hurried onto work, and Bilbo made a move to rise and help you, but you whacked him promptly with a potholder.
"You sit." Bilbo didn't make other attempts to rise, he just watched in adoration as you bustled around the room. You piled a full plate of food in front of him, beef stew and potatoes, roast vegetables, bread and butter, seedcakes, and a tankard filled to the brim with mead. Only when you were satisfied with his portion, you take food for yourself and sit down in front of him, looking at him expectantly.
"Tell me everything."

You listen intently and don't interrupt as Bilbo tells you the whole tale of his adventures, not leaving out any detail. You gasp in fear when he tells you about the trolls and goblins, and sigh in awe with his description of Rivendell. You grasp his hand as he tells you of Thorin and his last moments, and you can see how hard losing the dwarf had hit him. You wipe the tears off his cheeks and press a kiss on each of them, making him close his eyes and assure him that he is safe now.

Your food has long grown cold as Bilbo finishes his tale, the room having been plunged into darkness hours ago. You sit up and stretch before you fetch a few candles to light the darkened room. You smile as Bilbo yawns, stretching his back and taking the last swig of his mead.
"Why don't we head to bed?" You suggest, and Bilbo could start crying at that. How he had missed his bed, the softness of his down pillow, and most of all you, wrapped up under the covers with him.

Just something short and sweet I thought of while I was working on the requests. They are coming along slowly but surely.