Chapter Text
Living with Bilbo in the Shire turned out to be so wonderful that even after healing, Bofur stayed with him. Peaceful existence, kind people, constant festivities, holidays, hot springs... Like paradise. And there was a vampire nearby. The first month he was recovering, constantly lying in bed, and then he began to return to his normal rhythm of life. Bofur woke up in the morning, and Bilbo was already bustling about in the kitchen, running around the house with a mop, or lying on the branch of a large tree right next to his house.
But this whole idyll, which even the people living in the Shire made think that they were married, was ruined by Durin's family bead, which, despite his resentment towards Oakenshield, Bilbo refused to take off. The first few months Bofur even hoped for something, but after the feast of the beginning of spring, he shrugged his shoulders and gave up on his attempts to get this vampire. Well, he had accidentally ruined Thorin's chances of forgiveness, and now every time he noticed a vampire in the crowd, he made a mental note that if he saw the uzbad again, he should apologize to him. But it seemed that such a chance would not present itself anytime soon, since staying in the Shire and choking on Bilbo's murderous looks was unbearable, and he decided to leave without even saying goodbye.
***
The end-of-winter festival is a very big celebration in the Shire, with a huge fair, dancing, fireworks, contests and drinking. Bofur had already fallen in love with this settlement: with the joy of life, the love of drinking, the colorful costumes at the festivities, the loud music and that wonderful dialect of Westron spoken by the locals, and the way it sounded charmingly when performed by Bilbo only added to its charm. This strange pronunciation of some letters, and that wonderful accent that he had lost during the entire campaign, but was now slowly starting to return ... Before the festival, those feelings that Bofur seemed to be suppressing inside himself came out again.
At the fair, Bilbo looked simply stunning. He wore light clothes with interesting embroidery, a sweeping wreath and many rings. At first, Bofur was scared that they were made of silver, after which the vampire quickly assured him that it was just ordinary iron. And despite his reputation as an unsociable and eccentric recluse, he was still in great demand among women, as he was almost the standard of local beauty - if only he had a little darker skin and gained some weight, there would be no end to the brides. But Bofur noticed with what a bored expression on his face he saw off all the girls he didn't know. He had happy conversations only with the gardener Hamfast Gamgee and his wife, a couple of other friends and cousin Primrose, who, as Bofur already knew, wasn't really his relative, but her vampire mother was a good friend of Belladonna. Primrose was born human, and therefore he had to hide his true nature from her.
- Mary, Pippin, put down the firecrackers! - the vampire grabbed the red-haired boy by the collar and looked at him with his stern gaze, while his nephew Frodo sat in his arms, and Sam and Mariadoc were spinning at his feet. Some woman sat down next to Bofur.
- What a handsome man, and yet you stare at Baggins. Why are you running around with this madman?
- I seem handsome, but master Bilbo doesn't? I thought he was the standard here. - the woman laughed and adjusted her dress so that the neckline, revealing her ample breasts, didn't slip too low.
- Everyone has different tastes. Well, since you're staring like that, the dancing is about to begin. Invite him. And if this madman refuses, then I'm all at your service. - she smiled, winked at Bofur and left. He watched her go and again stared at Bilbo. The music began and the children ran away to avoid being trampled by the adults, while Hamfast went to dance with his wife. The vampire caught the werewolf's eye and smiled at him. Bofur felt his cheeks heat up as he stood up and walked over to him, holding out his hand and bowing slightly, as all Shiremen did when inviting each other to dance. Bilbo bowed too and took the werewolf's hand.
It was a fast dance, all the couples whirling around the square, the women's skirts fluttering in the wind as they turned, and the men's heels tapping on the flagstones in time with their movements. Bofur had learned many of the local dances in his time in the Shire. He had discovered to his dismay at one of the festivities that he could not work perfectly with the vampire as Thorin had, and during the dance he had stepped on all of poor Bilbo's feet. The werewolf was quietly envious of how the uzbad danced with the vampire on the first try as if they had been rehearsing for months.
Even now, after so much training, he could barely keep up with Bilbo's feet and stepped on his new shoes more than once. But now the vampire didn't even grumble or complain about anything, but simply enjoyed the fun. This gave Bofur a little confidence, and soon he stopped thinking about the correctness of his actions, moving intuitively. It turned out a little ridiculous, but no one paid attention.
Now Bofur understood very well why Thorin was so crazy about Bilbo, and he mentally thanked Aulë that the uzbad wasn't with them now, otherwise he wouldn't have been allowed to admire such a beautiful sight, much less touch it. The vampire's delicate skin was a little sunburned this afternoon, and now, in the light of the lanterns, his red cheeks and shoulders, showing from under several unbuttoned buttons of his shirt, shone a little like porcelain, and in his disheveled golden curls were tangled petals of white flowers from a wreath that had slipped to the side during the dance. Bilbo was already a little drunk, and there was a veil over his scarlet eyes, and the corners of his lips curled into a cat's smile ... Well, of course, everything wasn't so fabulous, and any of the shires looked no worse, but it was impossible to convince a werewolf in love, and for him Bilbo was the most beautiful creature in all of Middle-earth.
A light push on the elbow brought Bofur out of his enchanted dreams. A dark-haired man was sitting next to him, holding out some pink flower, the petals of which resembled hearts. The werewolf looked at the plant with bewilderment and turned his gaze to the man.
- You've been staring at Baggins all evening, so I decided to help. - he explained. - This is the flower of the Heart of Yavanna, it grows only today. If you put it in his drink, he will tell you the name of the one he wants to be with today. Well, and not only today. You get my point. If the name is yours, then congratulations, he is yours. And if not, then to remove the effect, and for him to see you again instead of the one his heart is crying for, you will need to pinch him, or somehow cause him pain. Just not too hard, you don't need to hit him, even if you really want to.
The werewolf listened attentively to the man's explanation. It sounded tempting. What if he had fallen out of love with Thorin? After all, they hadn't seen each other for about four months and hadn't been in touch in any way. He had to check. Bofur put the flower in his pocket, and then, when no one was looking, he crumbled some of its petals into Bilbo's cup of ale.
After the vampire had drained the mug, he began to look at Bofur in a completely different way. It was a misty, loving look that made the werewolf's legs buckle - he didn't even want to remember that Baggins had looked at Thorin like that before. They continued to dance together, and Bilbo became much more insistent: he touched the werewolf's neck and hair, and their faces were always dangerously close. After a few more mugs of ale and a couple of dances, Bofur finally got it. Bilbo grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for a kiss. Baggins' friends then happily congratulated the werewolf, but it was only at the beginning of the next dance that he realized that he had had an idiotic smile on his face the whole time.
It was not yet dawn, and the party was not over, but the vampire and the werewolf retreated to Bag-End. The tension became unbearable. Behind the slammed door, they kissed each other again and again. Bofur looked at Bilbo with eyes darkened by passion, leaving a red bite mark on his burnt shoulder. The vampire arched and bit his lip.
- Thorin, stop... - everything collapsed at once, as soon as Bilbo said this. Bofur had already caused him that "little pain", which meant that the effect of the Heart of Yavanna had dissipated. The vampire looked down and realized that before him wasn't the one he had called. The next moment, the werewolf was hit on the head with a heel, and the vampire instantly extricated himself from his embrace. Bofur looked at him guiltily, while the creature simply boiled with rage.
- Are all you wolfhounds like that!? Stupefied me! No shame, no conscience! - the vampire hissed, and when Bofur tried to take a step towards him, he bared his teeth in hostility and hissed only louder.
- Bilbo, forgive me... I didn't think it would end like this, I just wanted to check, maybe you had already fallen out of love with him... - the vampire turned white, and then red with anger. So that's what they stuffed him with! The Heart of Yavanna! And how could he not notice!?
- Get lost. - Bilbo croaked through his teeth. Bofur hesitated and opened his mouth to say something else. - I said get out of here! - the vampire shouted, and the werewolf immediately left. The same black-haired man who had given him the plant was waiting for him on the street.
- How is it? - a frying pan flew at the werewolf's head, and the man nodded. No further explanation was needed. - Got it. Well, in that case, we need a drink to keep us from being sad. Come on, friend, let's go, there's still some ale left.
A dejected Bofur followed him back to the feast. But the festive mood was already irrevocably spoiled.
***
Thorin was slowly going crazy. No, not literally, he was very calm during the day, reserved, serious, sometimes even frightening. But those who knew him well enough, like Balin, knew that when he acted like that, his head was in disarray. He would answer questions mechanically and do his job, while being somewhere in his own world. When it was the height of the day in Erebor, twilight was beginning to fall on the Shire, and in the early evening and at dinner, it was already the dead of night. And although Thorin no longer needed to eat, he still attended all the meals - his vampirism was a secret. The food was tasteless and didn't give a feeling of satiety, which he hadn't felt since the moment Bilbo left Erebor. At breakfast, uzbad looked bored, at lunch he was tense, and at dinner he stared blankly at one point, his head resting on his hand. He didn't explain his behavior, and when they started to interrogate him, he growled and bared his fangs, which were now always hostilely sharp. And how could he explain such a thing!?
Because of the connection he had formed with Bilbo, the vampire's voice periodically sounded in his head when he called him by name. At first, it seemed to uzbad that he hated him, because he only mentioned his name when he cried in the evenings. For the first month, this was true, and then complete nonsense began. The vampire seemed to experience the whole range of emotions and memories associated with the king. Sadness, when he dreamily pronounced his full name. Rage, when everything was limited to a simple "Oakingshield", and then some insult followed. Shyness, when his name was pronounced quietly, sometimes with laughter or hesitation. And on some lonely nights, Thorin's head would split from the vampire whispering his name every now and then while he was laying alone in bed - at such moments, uzbad would sit, propping his head up with his hand, and stare blankly at one point, barely restraining himself from visibly jerking from another moan of his beloved. Well, how can you even sit calmly with everyone and pretend that everything is fine when Bilbo's whisper is ringing in your ears, calling him by name so sweetly?
Dis arrived in Erebor exactly a month after Bilbo left, and gave her brother a dressing down from the very beginning. Thorin's ears were red from how much they were pulled, and his head was splitting from how many hours he had been yelled at. He had certainly gotten out of the habit of his older sister's steely character. Well, and at the same time, now he understood how Bilbo felt that day when they first came to him, and Fili and Kili were torturing his ears.
- Come on, Dis, stop it! - Thorin begged. Yes, it was good that the people didn't see their king like this. - I was going to go to the Shire after him as soon as I finished settling everything here! I can't just give up!
- Excellent, and it better be true! You crippled the poor vampire! I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't vampirized you, but simply drank all your blood, and used your withered corpse for a scarecrow! Thorin, you stabbed a vampire with silver! Unthinkable! And don't you dare not bring him from the Shire back here, or not stay there with him - I will beat you so badly you will forget your name! You won't be able to sit for a week!
- That's it, that's it, I understand! Let go of my ear, it hurts!
Dis narrowed her eyes and finally let go of her brother's angular ear. Thorin rubbed it and quickly hid it under his hair, but the tip still stuck out. Bilbo's voice flashed through his head again, and Uzbad had to sit up quickly, because his legs treacherously buckled from its sound. He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.
- As soon as I sort this out, I'm going to the Shire right away... He'll drive me crazy.
More time had passed since then than Thorin had expected. But they had survived the winter just fine, with the help of Dain, Thranduil and Bard there had been no problems. Everyone was well-fed, no one had frozen, the restoration of the kingdom was progressing slowly but surely, and Thorin was perceived as a fair and wise ruler. But exactly until the moment when the people began to suspect vampirism. That was when rumors began to spread, and the situation in Erebor began to deteriorate. One day, while he was giving a fiery speech during a feast, a werewolf of aristocratic blood sitting at one of the tables looked closely at Thorin's fangs. They were larger and longer than expected, and a red spot left by a vampire's bite was barely visible from under his tunic. No one else noticed these details, but long tongues won't keep you waiting.
Dis saved the situation, and also gave Thorin the opportunity to finally leave Erebor and go to the Shire, having attributed his new vampire nature to an "unknown virus" that urgently needed to be treated - and the Shire climate, doctors and hot springs were famous for curing even the most advanced diseases. Therefore, immediately after this announcement from Dis and Thorin, the whole company mentally prepared themselves for the unbearable behavior of their uzbad while he was waiting for the ferryman. Of course, if he were not a king, he would have packed his things that very evening, turned into a wolf and ran away, only his heels would have sparkled. But he had to behave appropriately, and diligently wait for the one who would take him to the Shire.
- A week!? Dis, for Mahal's sake, we will go crazy here! Couldn't you find any other ferryman? - Dori begged. Oin was also displeased, and Balin and Gloin watched the reactions of the others with interest. Dwalin and Ori were just standing in the corner, looking like they'd eaten a sour candy, Nori was just lying at the princess's feet, grabbing her by the legs of her pants and tearfully begging her to lock Thorin up somewhere until they left, Fili and Kili were laughing their asses off, just lying on the floor and coming up with the wildest ideas on how to keep their uncle busy, and Bifur and Bombur were betting on the moment everyone's nerves would start to give out. Yes, no one doubted Thorin's leadership qualities, but when he had to wait for something he really wanted, he was simply unbearable.
The fears of everyone around him were justified. They refused to load Thorin with work, since he was "sick", and this didn't help at all. Not only did he spend all day hanging around doing nothing, which was simply incomprehensible to him, but Bilbo wasn't there to entertain the king simply by existing. And, to everyone's horror, Fili and Kili came to the rescue...
It was very lucky that there were no strangers living in the royal palace, and the meetings were held outside the residential part, because the princes and the king turned the whole palace upside down. Starting from competitions like "who can stand upside down on one hand the longest", to something that even out of boredom Thorin didn't agree to. Well, for the first ten minutes.
- Why are you so quiet? It is suspicious not to hear... Oh, Mahal... - Dis entered the room and almost fainted. Fili was standing on Kili's shoulders, while he was standing on the ladder, which Thorin was holding below. The whole tower was held together by a kind word and the desperate attempts of the uzbad to keep their balance while the princes tried to reach the chandelier. A candle landed on Thorin's head, fortunately it had gone out, otherwise his entire head of hair would have burned to ashes.
- Uncle, stand still! We're going to fall on you!
- Can someone please explain to me what you blockheads are doing!? - Dis roared and jumped up to Thorin. He recoiled, and the princes above whined in displeasure because they were pushed away from the chandelier.
- Mom, don't disturb us! We decided that this chandelier should be brought to master Baggins as a gift and an apology. He liked it when he was here. - Dis narrowed her eyes, then jumped onto the ladder, causing Thorin to grunt in displeasure at the sudden weight added to his shoulders.
- Come on, move closer, brother, I'll help you now.
Balin entered the room just as Dis was already sitting on her eldest son's shoulders and skillfully unscrewing the chandelier from the ceiling. The old werewolf sighed heavily and theatrically covered his eyes with his hand.
- It seems to be a family thing...
- We're bringing this as a gift to master Baggins! - a voice came from above. Balin stood to the side for a while, looking at the whole thing.
- I'll call Dwalin now. We'll need to lower it from the ceiling carefully so that nothing breaks. Master Baggins will definitely like it! He loved looking at the chandeliers in Erebor!
The whole family of Durin's descendants seemed to blossom. These words were a major mistake, because the next day the tapestry was dragged out of Dori's room, two huge golden frames were taken from Ori, and poor Bifur's pillows were taken away. But after the words "We are doing this for master Baggins" everyone joined the procession. By the end of the week the ferryman's cart contained: the leg of someone's bed with a beautiful pattern, a chandelier, a tapestry, sheets with traditional embroidery, frames, three blue bricks with different patterns on them, a golden figurine of a wolf with a missing paw, and a piece of a sofa. Of Thorin's things, there was only a small bag with personal belongings and an extra pair of boots. Dis proudly loaded her brother into the cart.
- Give your vampire my regards, and tell him I can't wait to see him. If you decide to stay in the Shire, write a message. - she touched Thorin's forehead with hers and smiled. - Good luck.
Thorin's carriage began to slowly disappear from sight when one of Dis's maids came out and looked after the king.
- Your Majesty, why does His Majesty need a chandelier and a sofa?
***
Thorin arrived in the Shire faster than expected. He had no idea that he really became so unbearable when he was waiting for something he really wanted. The ferryman drove the horses almost without breaks, because the king's constant lamentations were already impossible to listen to. But, nevertheless, they had to cover an impressive distance, and he arrived there when the sun was already hot, and the air was damp and heavy.
Having finally sent the king away and left him with all his junk in the tavern, the ferryman accepted the payment and ran off wherever his eyes looked, swearing on the way never to get involved with werewolves again.