The Hobbit/LOTR Imagines (Requests Closed)

(Bilbo x Reader) Death Himself

(Imagine seeing Bilbo struggling with the Dwarves only for your secluded Ranger nature to be tested)
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"No. No. No!" You looked up again finding the hobbit pulling one of his coats that was being used as a rag to wipe the bottom of a shoe, from Bombur's hand. "This is a handcrafted, mind I say, expensive, garment. It is not a cheap cloth to wipe your scruffy boots onto!" He said, leaving Bombur dazed and unsure of how to finish his cleaning.

You smirked a little. Your back was starting to ache up against the tree and your eyes were getting tired examining the map that would lead the company to the mountains. But you wanted to be as involved as possible. You needed to know your route like the back of your hand so you scanned the rocky mirage again.

"This is madness! Stop! Put that down, right now!"

Your gaze shot up again to Bilbo yanking his handkerchief from Fili who was using it to hold his bowl while he poured in the soup from over the fire, probably to avoid his hands burning from the heat. One of the smarter things he'd ever thought to do, you decided. The orange broth, however, splattered chaotically onto the pale embroidered cloth. Not so smart.

To be fair, you'd though the hobbit had left that handkerchief at the Shire.

Then again, you hadn't spoken to him much. Only the odd exchange. You'd found him to be pleasant and kind, if a little obsessive over his love of comfort. But you couldn't blame him, it's where he felt safe. Something about that was sweet and perfect to you. You tended to focus your energy on the quest at hand, however. Your Ranger blood kept you steady and sharp minded when it came to a new journey. You always flittered from one place to the next. From one kind to another. You needed to be smart.

You look back at Bilbo examining the stained cloth and swore you saw his very soul leave him. "Give me that." He muttered. His eyes scanned the forest and his gaze set on the open back by Bofur. "My bag." He almost whimpered. "That's where you've all been getting my belongings from, is it?" The hobbit started pacing back and forth, one hand on his hip and the other gesturing in disapproval, trying his best to scold the dwarves for their behaviour. "This is unacceptable."

"Come laddie we only meant to put to use some of your varied items." One shouted cheerfully.

"They are not yours to take!" Bilbo exclaimed. "That's it! That's it! I need a minute." Slightly anti-climactic you thought, but you turned your attention back to your map.

You were a ranger after all. On a mission. You had more important things to deal with than these squabbles. But you did feel bad for the hobbit. You took a glance, seeing him walk away. Shaking your head, you looked back down.

It would only toughen him up. You found your self see him walk towards a tree and plonk himself beneath. Gosh did he look sad. No. Focus. The map. The journey...but he's so- and his poor handkerchief- and the dwarves are a pain- and and - his handkerchief.

You didn't even process that you had stood up and started to walk towards him. Clearing your throat awkwardly, Bilbo looked up. "Mr baggings." You started before clearing your throat again. "Bilbo, are you alright?"

He gazed at you, wide eyed. "I'm just fine." He said bluntly. He looked at his hands.

You looked back to your place by the tree, seeing the rolled up map on the floor. It took all your resistance to not scurry back over. But then you looked back at the hobbit and a sadness filled you. "I'm sure they'll leave your things alone soon after the curiosity has vanished."

"I would rather let death himself take me than see another one of my things be manhandled so viciously." Your mind flashed back to Bombur gently wiping the soul of his shoe as if he was concentrating more than he ever had in his life. Maybe vicious wasn't the right word. But still, you understood his frustration. The road left little for belongings so what you had was precious.

You lowered yourself to your knees. "Bilbo listen. I understand your upset. This isn't the world you know and they," you gestured to the dwarves who were bubbling in laughter, "are not always the easiest to deal with."

Bilbo looked at you again. "I'm not really meant for this place. My belongings are all I have left of home."

You straightened. You face became solemn. "If I know anything from being a Ranger, it is that in this world no one knows where they belong. One minute you are safe and sound and the next you don't quite understand how you ever felt such comfort as if you have never known what it is like to have another being understand you." For once he kept your gaze. "People will tell you that you don't belong. You will tell yourself the same. And to an extent, maybe it's true. How can someone belong when we don't even let ourselves. But the moment you realise that the world is yours as it everyone else's, it simply doesn't matter, because you are where you are meant to be. Maybe that is what belonging truly is."

He didn't say anything for a moment and then he smiled gently. "Thank you, (Y/n)."

"Of course." Your eyes didn't even flinch back to the map. "Now, let's go and see how they like having their belongings played with. Maybe Fili will happen upon his sword jammed into the branch at the top of a tree in the morning."

Bilbo chuckled lightly and took your outstretched hand as you rose. Maybe for once, you could find where you belonged.