Just a fleeting fancy. I was reading (actually laughing insanely at) Fruitsie's story "Thorin Oakenshield's Majestic Diary" and wondered what would happen if Bilbo had kept a diary of his own. Here are my thoughts. Tolkien owns the characters, I just play with them(;

Day 1.

20:00 Sitting down to finally enjoy some delicious buttered rolls.

Hear knock at door.

Better not be Gandalf, after the bloody morning I've had...

Nope, it's a dwarf. Actually a whole swarm of dwarves.

20:02 The first one pledges his "service" to me. Just what exactly does he mean by "service"? Because if you ask me he's looking a little to old to provide any "services"...

Don't have time to think because the next one does the same then proceeds to walk past me and eat my food.
How rude. Ruddy Dwarves.

20:03 Note to self: 2nd Dwarf seems to dislike first dwarf, head butted him when they made eye contact.

20:04 Note to self: Scratch that, immediately after gave him a hug. Weird mating ritual perhaps?

20:07 Now there's a whole throng of dwarves in my kitchen and raiding my pantry.

Gandalf finally arrived. When questioned he provides no good explanation for why, all of a sudden, half a dozen dwarves are in my living room.

He must have smoked one to many pipes to think he's going to get away with one "all-knowing" shrug.

20:09 Sudden knock at door.

Gandalf see's it as an opportunity to avoid further questioning and proceeds to open door.
If it's another dwarf, I swear to Mahal...

Door opens.

Damn...
...

Really hot looking dwarf stands in the doorway.

Must be the two younger, cute dwarves who came in earlier's father.

"Gandalf.." He says. Oh dear Mahal, he has the voice of an angel.
"You said this place would be easy to find. I got lost. Twice." A dark, I'll tie you to the bedpost kind of angel...

Really wishing he wasn't young cute dwarves father, because obviously that hunk of hotness must be taken. No, no keep cool. Must be the Took side in me talking.

Try to regain composure and act like a respectable hobbit. Realize it's to late, I've been asked a question by none other than the Hot Dwarf himself and now all the others who had gathered in the room's eyes are on at me, waiting for me to respond.

Bugger.

Hot Dwarf just stares at me. Wonder if he can read my thoughts?

Blush.

Smile up at him tentatively.

20:18 Finally caught Hot Dwarf's name among the chatter. Thorin.

Thorin Oakenshield.

More like Thorin Sexy-Shield if you ask me, or Smokin'-Shield... yes Smokin-Shield.

Smile stupidly to self.

Catch Smokin'-Shields eyes staring back at me. Instantly look down, embarrassed.

Respectable hobbit, respectable hobbit.

20:22 The two younger, cuter dwarves are jesting each other to see who can shoot ale out of their nose.

Smokin'-Shield bellows out a warning that is waaaayyy to sexy to be a mere warning.

Note to self: Horse play makes Hot Dwarf use Hot "Fatherly-you're-in-trouble-voice".

Who wouldn't mess around if it granted them that deep voice?

Instantly jealous of his sons.

20:28 Smokin-Shield doesn't seem pleased with his soup yet he keeps eating. Wave of self doubt in cooking skills washes over me.

20:35 Dwarves are discussing someone called Iron Hills and a land called Dane. And Dane wont join them?

Oh, no, wait. Dane is a dwarf and he lives in the Iron Hills.

Got it.

20:40 Nod silently in the background. Smokin'-Shield is talking all sexy like. Wow only he can make dragons and bleak desolated areas sound arousing.

20:42 Glance over Smokin-Shields shoulder to see map in his hand. Mahal he's got big hands!

Subconsciously lean closer to get a better look at his large hands.

Smokin-Shield turns his head slightly towards me.

Realize lack of distance between his arm and my pelvis.

Scoot back.

20:48 Other less hot dwarves are talking about dragons and younger ones begin pestering Gandalf about how many he's killed.

Gandalf looks discomforted.

Serves you right!

Begin to like younger, cute dwarves a bit more.

Still jealous though.

20:50 Smokin-Shield stands up majestically.

Damn he even looks good from the back.

Miss his speech entirely, to busy admiring backside.

21:06 Haven't stopped replaying Smokin-Shield standing up in head.

Realize room has gone silent again. Oh bugger.

Gandalf is looking at me again. Staring through my very soul.

How does he do that?!

"But if we are careful, and clever, it can be done."

What? What can be done?

"That's why we need are burglar," Dwarf with the really unfortunate haircut points out.

Act like I've been paying attention whole time and throw out, "A good one too, I'd imagine," quietly under breath.

All dwarves turn and look directly at me like I've sworn against their king or something.

"And are you?" Long red haired Dwarf with the bushy eyebrows asks me.

I blink, "Am I what?" Say nervously noticing Smokin-Shield turn away from me out of corner of eye.

21:10 Dwarves have argued and Gandalf has set them straight. Apparently agreeing to the red haired dwarfs question constituted me as a burglar and apparently Gandalf believed so as well.

21:14 Smokin-Shield thrusts a piece of parchment at my chest.

Normally I would have been offended but his hand scrapes my chest as he lets go of the paper. Butterflies ensue in stomach.

Read a few lines of said paper. Butterflies are killing me.

I've got this. I've got this under control. Wait, he's a King?!
"Nope."

Faint.

21:26 Wake back up in arm chair to Gandalf in my face.

Seriously man, lay off the weed.

"The world is not in your books and maps." old drugged out wizard says.

Uh, correction.

Yes, yes it is.

21:30 Walk back to room, avoiding kitchen where the dwarves sit, trying to avoid embarrassment.

Turn down hallway and see Smokin-Shield and oldest looking dwarf talking. No doubt about me.

Now completely embarrassed.

21:35 Now in bed, hear Smokin-Shields sexy voice from other room.

He's singing. Mahal kill me now. He can sing!

"Far over, the Misty Mountains cold," annnndd he's a poet!

Drift off to sleep, very jealous of younger cuter dwarves for getting to hear their sexy father, sexy King father, sing them to sleep every night.

Lucky bastards.

Day 2.

7:52 House empty. Dishes stacked.

Apparently all of my thoughts of the night before must have been the results of a drug induced dream.

I blame it on the old wizards second hand smoke.

8:00 Walk into living room. See contract from previous night sitting their with Smokin-Shields name swirled on it.

It wasn't a dream!

Quickly grab said parchment and run out the door!

Must find my sexy Smokin-Shield!

I mean Smokin-Shield.

I mean Thorin.

King Thorin.

Oh...bugger.