Disclaimer: I do not in any way own The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any other of Tolkien's works or characters who may appear here, and I make no money from this.
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Chapter 1: Don't piss off the Hobbit, or, Hobbit curses are serious business

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Hobbits have Fae blood in their veins. It isn't common knowledge to others, and nothing really to make comment on in the Shire, since everyone there already knows, so what is there really to say about it? Only those who were very close to the Shire usually came to learn of the fact, and most of those who did, well they never did quite know what that meant, not really.

Of course, there's the usual beliefs that they could magic their plants to grow better and healthier than any other place could manage, which was just ridiculous. Gardening was hard work regardless, even though their soil was blessedly fertile, hobbits just had a better knack of it and understanding of how to work with it than most, because they had researched the matter most thoroughly since the very founding of the Shire.

Gardening and farming was an art form, and what magic towards greenery they might possess, well if it did help things along, it was no more potent for one hobbit than it was for any other, so what did it matter? Where the magic in their blood was quite a bit more potent though was in keeping the Shire hidden from outsiders, and confusing unseemly folks from stopping or lingering or finding it in the first place. (Which poor Thorin Oakenshield would fall victim to at one point due to his surly attitude while trying to make it to a dinner party.) But where it truly flourished was with blessings, charms, and healing.

No hobbit worth their cooking didn't know how to place a good health charm on the soup, or a friendship blessing on a cup of tea, or charm the winter coats to not wear out, or the quilts to be just a bit more comforting and warm. Contrariwise, gossip was an extremely potent if mild form of a hobbit curse, since a truly malevolent hobbit curse could last for decades or longer, and the retaliation for such a thing towards another hobbit would not be worth it in the long run.

Hobbits could also heal just about anything except old age, which is why they were such a healthy and long lived people. Hobbits only ever died from hunger, old age, or getting themselves killed on adventures, which is why many chose to stay quite close to home, and looked down on others who decided not to. If a hobbit could not heal themselves, whether from an injury or else wise, they could either be put into the earth to heal, or if they were too weak for that, another perfectly healthy hobbit could give them part of their life force instead so the sick hobbit could recover, and they would rest in the earth for awhile in their place.

This was common practice in the Shire, every family had a patch of fresh tilled earth in their back garden for those who needed it, but such a practice was entirely unknown outside of the Shire, and not even Gandalf was aware of it. Therefore when Bilbo is whisked away from the Shire by Gandalf onto a whirlwind adventure, (though not without a few of last years acorns from his tree in his pocket, even if it did mean he forgot his handkerchief) it doesn't occur to him at first to notice that Dwarves have no idea about any of it.

After the third day Bilbo begins helping with the food, adding energy charms and healthful blessings, and the winter rationing charms to make things stretch as far as possible because otherwise he doesn't see how they are going to all make it there without starving to death on only two meals a day. He stitches protection charms into the patches of every dwarves' clothing as he mends it, his great contribution to the group, since he's the only one without a hobby that can be readily done on horseback like most of the others have. As it continues he also embroiders warmth and comfort charms on their hems as the weather turns inclement.

Of course the dwarves have no idea about any of it. Not the wood drying charm that lets them start a good fire even though it had rained for six days straight and everything else was waterlogged by that point. Not the blessings of peace, friendship, and family to keep tempers down and fighting to a minimum, though he actually was pushed to the point of casting a temperance spell on Thorin the first time he really yelled at Bilbo, and the dwarf never raised his voice to the hobbit again no matter how angry he became. They didn't even know about the prosperity spell Bilbo did that led them to finding the troll hoard when their supplies were running low, (even though it meant having to deal with said trolls first.) Bilbo had nearly forgotten that using any of the more powerful charms or spells always required something as payment in exchange in order to work properly, and after that debacle he never forgot again.

In Rivendell he made a house blessing charm for Lord Elrond as a gift for his gracious hospitality, which was accepted with a bow of gratitude the dwarves just couldn't understand. Lord Elrond was one of the few people in the world who did know what receiving such a thing from a hobbit meant. They had stayed in Rivendell for two weeks, meaning they were there for Midsummer, the strongest night of the year for the fair folk, and Bilbo disappeared from the company that day a bit before dusk, to a meadow under the open sky he had picked out that was filled with clover, or rather that Lord Elrond had mentioned notably in passing, and Bilbo could take a hint.

It was going to be a merry little affair, with his tambourine and pan pipes. He made a large circle of lilac, rose, violet, and primrose petals, he wove foxgloves, heather, and wild thyme in his hair, and his nine wood bonfire burned merrily. He had a feast set up of cream, honey, barley and oat cakes, nuts, mushrooms, sweet summer fruits, an assortment of fresh herbs and edible flowers, as many desserts as he could manage, and several bottles of elvish wine that he had added crushed elderberries to, and all of the appropriate herbs of course. He spied a few curious elves passing relatively nearby who had never seen the Faye rites before, but none dared to draw anywhere near or disturb him, not on this night.

A handsome young man, perhaps in his early or almost twenties, was curious enough to draw closer though, a small harp in his hands. The fae always could enchant Men, especially tonight, and someone had been wise enough to give the youth a mask wreathed in ivy to wear and weave him a crown of rowan along with primrose and thyme. Bilbo grinned and held out a hand to him, and pulled the young man into his circle when he accepted. Together they ate and drank, sang and danced and told stories to the moon. At one point he sees the boy's future in the flames and his heart aches, longing to protect the innocence and light inside the fair youth forever. He hears them then, the Sidhe, calling the youth to come away with them, where he'd be safe and cherished forever, never age, never die, and know nothing but peace, plenty, and happiness forever.

Come away O Human Child, to the woods and waters wild! With a faery, hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than you can understand...

It was a gentle, haunting melody that drew you closer. Back in the Shire the ones who had left last midsummer for whatever reason would be returning tonight, most either pregnant, with a new infant, or having sown wild oats, but for a human to accept, well, they almost never returned. Perhaps the boy heard, perhaps he was tempted, either way it must be his own choice. This is where hobbits came from after all, a mix of fae and human and other hobbits that had returned from visiting their kin under the hills. Regardless, Bilbo could not resist offering the mug of elderberry wine he had been drinking from to the youth, who accepted and drank deeply. Now, whatever his choice, he'd never have a hard time spotting a hobbit or finding the Shire if he needed to. Near midnight the youth kissed him in his drunken merriment, but Bilbo at least kept his wits about him enough to not accept more.

"It is your choice, to go or stay, the Seelie would care for you always, but if you decline you must be gone from the circle before dawn human child, and then wear your crown and mask for a whole day and night, and wear a bit of iron, else you may never return. For tomorrow the Unseelie ride and they do not ask before taking what pleases them and has been kissed by our magic. Without the mask and wreath's protection hiding you from ill intent, and the iron protecting you from their touch, they will think you wish to go, or steal you anyway." Bilbo warned him, and curled up on the soft ground to sleep not long afterwards.

When he woke, the lad was gone, one way or another, and Bilbo spent the day basking in the sun and enjoying the living earth. The Company found him before noon, and were quite puzzled as to why he'd obviously had a party and not invited them. He asked if he would have been welcome at the most sacred yearly rite of the dwarves without understanding anything of what it meant to be there or what to do or not to do beforehand, and they went wide eyed in understanding and made no more mention of it.

Once they left the Last Homely House, Bilbo knew it was the protection charms and the blessings to find safe paths he had done every night, and especially on midsummer, that kept them all alive through the thunder battle, and let them find the goblin traps, even if they then had to escape from the goblins, and in Bilbo's case Gollum. Regardless, it happened in such a way that it took two weeks off of their journey by going through the mountain instead of over it. In the resulting dim light he built a simple shrine to Yavanna on the riverbank with loose stones in thanks, for keeping his feet firmly on the ground, his wits about him, and for keeping them alive another day.

He didn't know if it was the protection charms, pure dumb luck, or both, that kept them alive through the orcs, and his near suicidal attempt to save Thorin's life. Though it was the first time in his life that Bilbo had Cursed anything besides the squash bugs in his garden that one time ten years ago, and they had never dared return. But now he cursed the orcs with every ounce of rage and determination a hobbit could muster, which was quite a lot indeed. It was a Curse for the ages, born out of the protective fury of one whose own have been grievously threatened and harmed, one who if he was dying, he was without doubt taking every last thing that had caused it down with him, and their descendants descendants for as long as there was a bloodline left. Whatever the truth was, he didn't care, far too relieved to be saved by giant eagles even if the height terrified him. Though he still had enough of his mind about him to remember his manners and properly bless the eagles and their kin as thanks for saving their lives.

Thankfully it was Gandalf who revived Thorin, as Bilbo was far too tired and hungry to do it himself at the moment, though when Thorin hugged him in friendship, acceptance, and gratitude, Bilbo knew then why he had acted so rashly, he was in love with Thorin bloody Oakenshield. Oh dear.

He needed to rest, in fact he wouldn't have minded being buried for a day or two just to recover properly, but there was no immediate rest for the weary, however the stream at the bottom of the Carrock that let him have his first proper bath in days helped immensely. At Beorns' house he was as happy as a hobbit outside the Shire could be, and charmed and blessed the skinchangers' lands and crops and garden and animals at least thrice over in thanks for feeding them up properly and allowing the company to rest and recover. Beorn was quite fond of his 'little bunny' and the stories he told, and if Bilbo happened to weave peace and friendship charms into the telling of said stories, just as a precaution towards the more temperamental form of their host, well that was his business.

First Bilbo assisted Oin with the first aid, and if the dwarves' wounds healed a bit faster, or their pain diminished any quicker than usual, and the poultices on their wounds were not actually put there by Oin, it wasn't exactly noted or noticed. And if the hearty lentil stew and herb bread he made them that night made them feel nearly entirely back to rights, why it surely was because that's what good food does. Nor did they notice the sachets of agrimony, lavender, chamomile, valerian, and mugwort he put in their pillows, but they all slept the most soundly they had done since leaving Bilbo's home regardless.

No one noticed that Bilbo was prone to disappearing in the early afternoon the first two days and returning for an early supper with rather more dirt on him than was usual for a man who'd had a bath that morning, and was fastidious about laundry. He traded recipes with Beorn in exchange for hard waxed cheeses, a map with the path clearly marked, and good information about how long the journey through Mirkwood would take. He made his grandmothers' famous rose petal jelly that was delicious over fresh bread or delicate enough to be substituted for honey in one's tea, and Beorn liked it so much that Bilbo traded the recipe to him for as many waterskins as the company could carry, since he had found out that the water in the wood was undrinkable.

He knew better by now than to take any sort of chances with this lot and their deplorable luck, which reminded him to do a good luck charm as well as every blessing for safe paths that he could remember, and a few he made up on the spot just in case. He made a sachet of basil that he wore around his neck for courage and for better communication with dragons, and had everyone drink at least one cup of tea that he had added borage and mint to. The dwarves thought him behaving quite oddly with the little bundles of herbs and flowers he threw into the fire every few hours, or the dish of herb water that he flicked over all of their clothes with a bundle of fresh sage and rosemary, and even managed to sprinkle all of them with at some point or another if they happened to pass even remotely close by him, and were sought out to be sprinkled even if they were nowhere nearby him.

But Bilbo didn't care how odd they thought him, he was determined that they were all going to make it through this insanity alive and in one piece. None of them noticed the pinch of angelica and the mint leaf placed in each of their boots for protection during travel, luck, and to destroy all bad luck and curses, or the sprig of juniper he sewed into their new packs so they would stop losing their things. But they did notice the sprig of heather he placed in each one's pocket, which he replaced firmly anytime someone tried to remove it, until they all gave in, unwilling to truly anger their hobbit, who had taken to trying to have them wear the flowers in their hair if they refused to carry them in a pocket, until they conceded.

Ori actually wore an entire crown of heather on his head quite happily one afternoon, especially when it made Bilbo smile so much, and the hobbit was wearing one himself anyway. Fili and Kili refused to be left out on the same thing after that, and the boys made it a game to try and crown the rest of them with heather, which the rest of them disliked, but Bilbo was so happy that most of them did it, even if only for an hour. Beorn thought it was fabulous fun and had no issue with wearing his once the boys crowned him too.

Bilbo then all but took over the kitchen for two days as he baked fruit and vegetable leathers and ten varieties of journey bread, made ration cakes, which were potatoes, beans, cheese, and vegetables that were cooked, ground into a paste with olive oil and salt, spread out very thinly, baked, and cut into strips that could be eaten like jerky. He also made nut and seed cakes with honey, which were extremely filling and could last nigh on forever, as well as tiny ground and pressed herb cubes that could be added to the stew pots to give things flavor, or eaten by themselves if food got too spare.

Bilbo hated Mirkwood, the very air seemed to make him nauseous, and for the first time in his life, he bound cloth over his feet so that he wouldn't touch the earth more than he had to, a terrible feeling for any fey. They had not gotten lost or run out of provisions thanks to the map, their extra water skins, and Bilbo's insistence on careful rationing, but they were captured by an elven hunting party regardless. What thirty elves could be hunting in this foul place completely devoid of wildlife, Bilbo could only imagine, and didn't really want to know. He luckily spotted a swallow-wort growing nearby and snatched a sprig up, quickly stuffing it into his shirt. He knew the herb was doing its job when he managed to free everyone and his hair brained escape plan worked flawlessly.

By Laketown he was exhausted, he had never needed to use so many charms and blessings in his life before this quest, and though he had spent a few afternoons laying in Beorn's garden, he hadn't been able to truly Sleep properly without raising suspicion, and the exertion and the icy water took it's toll on him in the form of a vicious head cold, and not a smidgen of soft soil anywhere on the long lake or its rocky shore for him to even curl his toes into to make his headache abate. It took three days before he was recovered, and the dwarves were all exceedingly kind, but he longed for a garden patch regardless. It still wasn't a good time though, the mountain was ahead and there was nothing to be done about it until after Durin's day, which thankfully was in only a few days time.

Dragons were quite like the Unseelie to deal with, all mischief and magic and pride, it was much easier than what he had been expecting, which was pure evil, attack first, ask questions never. Riddles and ego stroking and witty banter were much easier to deal with than an unending stream of flames or trying to not be eaten.

"What are you, I have never smelled your kind before, not elf or man or dwarf, but something else."

"I am all of those and none of those at the same time. Our blood is blended with every race, except perhaps orc, though the goblins are a very distant relation on the dark branch of the bloodline, definitely Unseelie whatever it is, they might have done something with that. My race leads away the lost children and keeps them for our own, my race are the mischief ones and the ones who walk unseen, my race are known as the fair folk, the Sidhe, the seelie, the little people, the fey. I very much doubt a creature such as you has heard of us. My particular kin value gardens over gold, though we would never object to a shiny piece of quartz to catch the light just right and cast a rainbow on the wall. I must confess, you are the first dragon I have ever met, why do you like gold so much? It's not like you can eat it, or spend it, and it's dreadfully hard and heavy so it can't be very comfortable to lay on. I admit the sound of the coins chiming together is rather pleasant, but nothing I'd miss elevensies over. I guess I just fail to see what the appeal is, though your waistcoat of gold and gemstones is quite fetching on you, might I see it closer? You have really done a remarkable job on it."

Dragons soon joined orcs on Bilbo's new 'Things I Never Thought I Would Ever Need To Curse, But Have' list. Trying to burn him to death before leaving, honestly, how rude. He's later surprised it took as quickly as it did, with as little energy for it as he had left. It just proved that a hobbit protecting the ones they loved should not be threatened. He had no idea about Smaug's fate, because he had been busy at the time. The gold was cursed, horribly cursed, and Bilbo was having none of that, who knows what such nastiness could do to his dwarves. It really was a foolish thing to try and attempt without even a full stomach to go on, as he placed the biggest purification spell and blessing on the gold he could, never going back up to the dwarves, who came in once the dragon left the mountain anyway. He found out much later on that Smaug had barely even made it to Laketown before Bard's aim with the windlance held true and struck the beast down right on the shore, thanks to the clever thrush. The only casualty to Smaug's flames was The Master's house, which unfortunately had been occupied at the time. Under Bard's direction the townspeople got a bucket line going and saved the rest.

Bilbo passed out for a whole day and night and had the most vicious of headaches upon waking. The blessing had only worked part way at that, probably due to how vast the treasure was and how weak he still was. He woke in time to see elves and men at the gates, and got there just in time to stop Thorin from making it worse. The rest of the dwarves were fine, but Thorin still had a very light touch of gold lust, making him greedier than usual, but nothing as bad as what could have happened had that curse remained and he'd touched the treasure, so Bilbo felt it was worth it. Once he found out what had happened, he told Bard "The dragon had plenty of gold and gems stuck to him when he had left, why don't you use that until the absolute mess the dwarves have to clean up ahead of them can be taken care of?"

Apparently that hadn't occurred to them, and when Bard said "The men won't go near the wyrm, for fear of it."

Bilbo asked "Since when is a hunter afraid of his kill? If it's dead what else is left to fear from Smaug?"

The men left peacefully.

When Thorin began to refuse Thranduil's request for his property back, Bilbo had had quite enough. Apologizing and telling Thranduil they would return shortly, he took the arrogant sot by the ear and dragged him away from the wall like a scolded child, chiding Thorin along the way.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to take things that don't belong to you? You should be ashamed of yourself!"

He forced Thorin to retrieve the necklace and then hand it over personally to Thranduil. The fact they all but tripped over the Arkenstone on the way back to the gate was merely a bonus.

When the army of Orcs showed up, Bilbo was beyond done, he was absolutely finished with the whole mess. He was exhausted, hungry, and wished that he was home in the Shire with his armchair and as much food as he could manage to eat before burying himself in the earth for a month. But that again wasn't an option at the moment. Apparently Thorin had anticipated war with the Men and Elves, and had called for aide, and Dain and his army showed up and joined the elves, who were already neck deep in bloodshed and carnage, so of course his dwarves just couldn't resist joining the madness. They decked themselves out in armor, Thorin even insisted on putting a beautiful mail tunic on Bilbo, and for some reason Bilbo couldn't even protest it though he did insist that Thorin and the boys wear their own mail properly so it could actually protect them and not just look pretty. He then embraced each one of his precious dwarves and blessed each of them in hobbitish for protection, and they surprisingly let him without a hint of fuss or embarrassment.

He also lit a fire and cast the last of the dried red nasturtiums he had found at Beorn's into it for victory in battle and for it to be their enemy's blood that was spilled and not their own. The dwarves charged out of the mountain, and Bilbo did too, even though he had no idea what he was doing other than going to attempt to protect that which was his. The battle was nothing Bilbo could read. He had no idea if they were winning or losing, all he could do was try to fight to the best of his ability. The fight against Azog was horrible to watch, his heart nearly stopped when Fili was stabbed and Kili fell. He tried to run to them, but the orc swarm was too much and they had to retreat, but only minutes later the curse Bilbo had done back before the eagles came, took effect.

Thorin, on his back, and possibly going to die from exhaustion and multiple wounds, took out the scourge with a lucky stab to the gut and a kick that sent him under the ice, but not before Azog had managed to stab him back and began dragging Thorin under with him. Bilbo darted forward, desperately slashing his sword down onto the hand that had Thorin by the leg, and severed Azog's last remaining hand, the blow stopped by Thorin's thick boots, protecting him from being cut as well. Azog could not recover, and sank to his doom. Thorin was still breathing, but he was in extremely sorry shape, while Bilbo was all but unscathed. Dwarves, for all their stubbornness, were still mortal. He was too far away to help Fili or Kili, but Thorin he could help, Thorin he could save.

"Thorin, Thorin look at me, look at me. It's going to be alright. You're going to be just fine okay? I'm not going to let you die. Thorin? Thorin, you have to listen to me alright? Listen to my voice. You need to bury me in soft earth, and place plants and flowers over me. When they die you must replace them over and over, every day, until they don't. Once the flowers stay alive, then you'll know that it won't be long. I love you Thorin, you aren't going to die, don't worry, all will be well."

He cradled Thorin in his arms, placed a tender kiss on his brow and lips, and his hand over the worst of Thorin's wounds, willing them to heal with the last of his strength, and giving Thorin all of his life force save the single spark he'd need to come back, even though such a thing meant he'd be sleeping a long time, easily several months or longer. This should really have been a group healing, but that wasn't possible at the moment. As the warm green light under his hand sank into Thorin's body, Bilbo felt the wounds closing, the damage healing, the warmth returning to Thorin's skin, the color to his face, and his breathing easing entirely. Thorin was staring at him as if he had never seen him before in his life.

Before the Sleep claimed him he kissed Thorin's head again and smiled at his king. "Bury me in the soft earth, and plant flowers..." and the world became gentle, healing, darkness.