“You should know, my lad, that this is not merely about a quest to slay a dragon. I made a promise to your mother, before she passed.”
The mention of Belladonna had Bilbo’s head jerking up. Any promise that his mother could have extracted from a wizard – well, it just couldn’t be good.
“And?” he prompted, tiring of Gandalf’s dramatic pauses.
“I promised your mother I would find you a husband.”
“W- what?” Bilbo spluttered, pushing his tea aside as he leapt from his armchair. “I – how could you – who would I even -”
“Why, Thorin Oakenshield, of course,” Gandalf answered with a far too smug smile.
“Thorin Oaken-” Bilbo cut himself off, glancing out the open doorway lest he be overhead. He continued with a hissed whisper, “You mean the one who called me a grocer earlier?”
Gandalf shrugged a grey-cloaked shoulder as he pulled out his pipe. “Some may focus on the fact that I am proposing you marry a king, but yes, there is that as well.”
“I don’t care two figs if he’s a king! He’s a complete and utter arse and -”
“And I happen to know he finds you very attractive,” Gandalf interjected.
Bilbo laughed drily, completely ignoring how the thought already made his toes want to curl into his plush rug. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Bilbo replied with forced composure. “Because I’m not doing it!”
He was doing it.
He was going to marry a dwarf king.
Literally 8 months after starting this trash one-shot, it’s finally posted!
I NEED TO READ THIS. When, you know, it’s not midnight.
Death By Catchphrase 