The Healing Effects of an Adventure

"Blast this weather!" Bilbo announced as he hurried from his bedroom. He had woken up sometime earlier to find his bedroom window open. Like a berk, he had left it open all night! He had immediately closed it and crawled, shivering, back into bed, as he had been too tired to run a bath.

Now, he was hurrying as quickly as his little hobbit feet could carry him to the bathroom. The cold from overnight had lingered and Bilbo was feeling chilly. He was sure that it was nothing that a warm bath couldn't handle.

A warm bath did, in fact, ease his shivering and coax the goose flesh from his skin.

It did not, however, help the dull ache that he was starting to notice, the one that was lodged somewhere in his throat.

Bilbo trudged to the pantry, feeling lethargic and sleepy from his bath. He drew his gown close for warmth and shuffled into the pantry. He was sure that the dull ache in his throat could be handled with a hot cup of tea.

A hot cup of tea did, in fact, ease the sore throat.

It did not, however, alleviate the spreading pain that was building beneath Bilbo's temples. It was around this bit, after he had finished his tea, that his stomach started feeling very unsettled. He vaguely wondered if he had, somehow, gotten into unwell poultry or an ill mince pie at the party the night before.

He made a note that he rather had enjoyed both poultry and mince pie at the party the night before before he shuffled to the entrance.

Bilbo released the latch on the door and walked to his mailbox, shivering again as he collected the mail. It seemed unseasonably cold, he reasoned, even though he felt he was sweating under his clothes.

He returned to the entrance and turned into the study. He sank heavily onto the bench and began to idly flick through the mail that had arrived. He was just halfway through a rather ridiculous read from one of his distant cousins when he felt himself nodding.

Strange, as he had just woken up, but Bilbo just briefly placed his forehead against his folded arms. The headache and the sore throat, as well as the cold again regained from his short walk outside, made him less willing to finish the letter, much less write one back.

But, he mustn't seem ungrateful or, worse, uninterested.

Bilbo dozed off before he could even pick up a quill.

When he awoke, he was met with a pounding ache gnawing at his brain. He helplessly pressed his sweaty fingers to his forehead, realizing that, no, he had not come into tainted food, but rather caught himself a fever.

He had rather been trying to avoid that.

Deciding that the best thing for this was a proper cup of tea and a good night's rest, he set upon brewing himself another cuppa and changing into suitable sleeping clothes.

He made himself a wonderful cup of tea and latched his front door- he could not entertain visitors today!- before making his way back to his bedroom.

He climbed into bed, sighing contentedly as he shuffled into his familiar and warm blankets. He took a relaxing drink of his tea as he leaned back against the headboard.

Well, this certainly hadn't been the plan for today, but Bilbo thought it wasn't too bad. Asides from the general illness and the idea of him being in sleeping clothes so early in the afternoon, Bilbo though it wasn't bad.

He was content, as he usually was, even if he was ill.

Bilbo finished his tea and shuffled down into his blankets, curling onto his side. He stared idly at the bedroom window, his eyes aching at the sunlight beyond.

Oh, the beyond...

Bilbo smiled in embarrassed recognition as he remembered his spry young days. He had been quite the mischievous hobbit... although it was always blamed on his Took bloodlines. Perhaps it had been his Took blood, but he had always found excitement in running amok, looking for Elves or such things. Older and much wiser hobbits would shake their heads in disappointment, while a few would smile and laugh at such childish antics.

Bilbo remembered those days with chagrin.

Looking for Elves? Pondering the Wilderland? What a funny little hobbit had he been! He was content with life on The Hill now, as he ever would be, thank you very much!

When Bilbo fell asleep, his dreams were filled with idealisations of life on the other side of The Water.

When Bilbo woke up, he felt a bit better. The headache had lessened, his stomach was fine, his throat simply yearned for tea or ale, and he was cozy and content. He barely wanted to get out of bed.

But, when he took into consideration how he had been asleep all day yesterday- it was a new morning already!- Bilbo coaxed himself out of bed. He simply could not sleep the entire day away again.

The hobbit was halfway through second breakfast before he remembered what his dreams had been about.

"I suppose I can always count on my Tookish blood to get me into trouble," he commented, buttering up another roll.

Little did he know just how true that sentence really was...

Basically, just a sick!fic/character study ficlet set before the events of The Hobbit. I initially just wanted to work with a sick!fic with only Bilbo, and then thought I might include a bit of a character study as well.

As ever, I do not own The Hobbit.

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