Bilbo Baggins, chosen consort of Thorin Oakenshield, thought Bilbo with contempt. It was a title he never wanted, a title none of the hobbits had wanted, but they'd been glad to throw him out of the Shire to save their own lives.

"It'll be a simple treaty," one of the dwarves had said. "Just give us one of your kin to be taken as the consort of our king. If you refuse then we will have all of you and your land destroyed."

"Why must you take a hobbit?" one of them had yelled, stamping their hairy feet. "Can you not take an elf or a human?"

Bilbo had cringed when he'd heard that. The dwarves had sent most of the elves away from Middle-Earth, save the small number that they deemed as trustworthy, though many were under supervision from dwarves. Their population had increased over the years, and so had their wealth, as if the mountain would never stop releasing treasures. Their power had also grown, and they had army after army after army. The dragon Smaug had tried to attack years earlier and had been killed in seconds; Bilbo himself was allowed to go see the head of the beast if he asked, and the dwarves would be absolutely eager to show him. The orcs had raged war against them, but in the end the dwarves had murdered them all, along with the wargs. They took pride in the eradication of the species, and at first everyone had been happy when it was now much safer to travel around Middle-Earth, but soon the dwarves looked to find even more power. The entire White Council of wizards had sided with them, though if it was unknown if they'd done so out of consent or by pure fear.

They'd taken over entire lands in Middle-Earth, but only shortly before they'd never even gotten near the Shire. The hobbits thought that the dwarves simply thought that they weren't messing with hobbits because of how peaceful they were-most couldn't even hold a sword properly, and even if they could they were unlikely to give you more than a small scratch with it. They'd been wrong, and it had cost them their freedom.

"It'll be exactly like when we weren't here," one of the dwarves had said. "We simply wish for you to send us a share of your crops, and in return we will give you some of our treasure."

The hobbits had said yes, though Bilbo was sure they'd get little. Still, what use would it be? They'd given him away because he'd been a bachelor with no romantic prospects, had been quite strange for a hobbit (he'd often been the talk of the town gossips), and had money. Yes, all the hobbits wanted a fair share of his things, and what better way to get them then to get rid of him? Many would've wanted the great wealth in Erebor, but they wouldn't leave the Shire for it. They'd forced him to go, deciding they'd much rather have the small wealth he had then to get the great amount in Erebor.

When Thorin had seen him, he had analyzed him, poking and prodding him as if we were an object, though he suspected that he likely was. He'd made comments on his appearance, and though they were positive, he hadn't been cheered up by them. He'd wanted to tell the dwarf to stop, but he couldn't.

At first he'd wondered why he'd wanted a hobbit as a consort, but after their first night together, a night where he was almost completely alone with him, he realized why. Thorin was almost a foot taller than him, and his voice was much louder. Bilbo was an object that could be passed around, and though he existed, he was of little importance; he now existed only to boost Thorin.

The other dwarves had teased him, and he knew quite well that he was a joke among them, and Thorin even would play along with the jokes.

Bilbo Baggins was almost nothing, though he sometimes wished he could just be nothing. If he weren't constantly next to Thorin, then he'd sneak into the mines and fade into the darkness, and go to the deepest, darkest, and most secluded spot. Once he got there, he doubted that he'd ever leave.

Thorin had tried to woo him, but it had failed. He'd never been one to be called a romantic, and though the dwarf had tried, it did nothing for Bilbo. Instead, it made him even more numb.

"Bilbo," he'd whispered to him one night. "What can I do to make you love me?"

He'd said nothing, because there was nothing he could do.

He'd tried pleasuring him, and for once acted as though he'd cared about him, but Bilbo felt nothing of it. Thorin had tried harder, but he was still numb and empty.

Author's Note: I'm not making this a one-shot, but I can't guarantee when I'll update again. I don't know where I'm going with this story, but I will update as soon as I can if the story is popular.