Chapter Text
"The representatives of the Merchants’ Guild requested a meeting right after your arrival three weeks ago, and four more times since. Shall I inform them that you are busy?" The words of the Master of Traditions were respectful yet slightly disapproving.
"Hm." With that non-committal noise, Bilbo turned away from the stove and offered a bunch of carrots and a knife. "Slice these, please."
With a resigned sigh, Master Kiron took the vegetables and started chopping. Since prince Thorin and his consort's return, the hobbit had barely left his kitchen. The occasions when he left his husband's side were even rarer. That their prince was attending a meeting with his father gave the Master of Traditions the even less frequent chance to talk to their consort alone.
The hobbit was preparing food whenever he wasn't at his husband's side. Even when there were simply too many dishes for a single dwarf, Thorin never suggested that Bilbo should stop cooking. More often than not, the dwarf simply shared these meals with whatever family member or guest visited him that day. Their prince was not the only one who had suffered scars from his abduction. Obviously Shirefolk dealt with traumatic experiences through cooking and baking.
Having learned that Bilbo was much more inclined to listen to him when he helped with said cooking, the Master of Traditions started to deftly wield the knife. Still, even after several minutes of patient waiting, he did not receive a reaction to his initial statement.
The royal consort ignoring an official request from a guild he held the budget for was unusual, if not downright rude. Determined to support him, Kiron had to make him understand that it was a problem. "Your royal high…"
"Please, I have told you countless times to call me Bilbo when we're amongst ourselves. I am not of royal blood, so to address me as such is ill fitting. Not to mention that there is no room for titles in my kitchen."
"As you wish, Master Baggins, but please let's concentrate on the matter at hand. You can't ignore the Merchants’ Guild. They are too important for our economy."
Cleaning his fingers, Bilbo turned around to look at the dwarf who looked at him pleadingly. Master Kiron had proven a valuable ally helping Bilbo find his way into his role as the royal consort. But still, as a hobbit he took the liberty of pretending ignorance when the dwarf's advice didn't suit him. Even his sister-in-law had suggested as much. Being slightly unpredictable would help him in the long run. Also it would keep the councillors on their toes. They still were a little wary around their hobbit who had mutilated Master Lothur after the dwarf's challenge at the Yuletide Ball last year. The decision to ignore the guild's request, however, had not been made on a whim.
"Master Kiron," Bilbo sighed after a moment, "do you know how often I have asked for the journals of the Merchants’ Guild in the last six months? Journals that would enlighten me on the use of the royal funds I am supposed to provide. Five times! Once each month while I was in the Shire, and once after our return. And do you know how often the request was heeded? Not once!" Anger clouded the hobbit's face. He did not like to remember the first few days after his and Thorin's return to the Blue Mountains. They were still working through the issues caused by Thorin's abduction and the torment he had suffered in the hands of the slave-traders. Sadly, they had barely made any progress. Mostly, because his beloved, stubborn dwarf was not willing to admit that weeks of torture could have any lasting effect on him.
Thorin had not managed to sleep through a single night since they had returned to Ered Luin. He woke twice, sometimes three times each night, with a desperate cry on his lips, shivering anxiously in his hobbit's arms. He had stopped fighting his way out of Bilbo's embrace at the beginning of this week and both considered that an improvement. Still, holding his trembling husband, even though Thorin tried very hard to conceal his distress, broke Bilbo's heart night after night. At least he was now able to comfort his dwarf enough for him to go back to sleep within the hour. Bilbo sometimes lay awake long afterwards, without finding any rest. It was draining and slowly the hobbit was reaching the end of his tether. The worst of it all was that Thorin never said a word, downright ignored Bilbo's gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) prodding to talk about what had happened. The hobbit simply did not know how to get his husband to accept his help.
Forcing himself to concentrate on the problem at hand, Bilbo shook his head and continued his rant. "I have waited six months, six months for them to send me their books or at least a brief overview. Now it is their time to wait! We have to prepare our fields for the winter. The harvest was good. And with the new irrigation system in place, it could increase still. I can't be in two places at once. First I have to tend to the fields. Then I will talk to the representatives of the Merchants’ Guild. If, and you can relay that as an order of the royal consort, if they are ready to offer their books for inspection!"
Sighing inwardly, Master Kiron nodded and offered the sliced carrots, which were scoped up immediately and added to the other ingredients in the big pan that bubbled happily on the stove. He knew that he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Yet for now there was no other option than to obey the hobbit's command, mostly because it was entirely reasonable. Rising from the kitchen table he bowed deeply. "I will convey your message, Master Baggins."
Noticing the dwarf's defeated attitude, Bilbo approached him and put a comforting hand on his arm. "But you have little hope that they will follow my demand."
Feeling like he was letting the royal consort down, Kiron lowered his eyes in shame and mumbled an apology. Yet Bilbo would have none of that. "I know that I am putting you into a difficult position, and I am really sorry about that. I have the highest respect for your work and I am incredibly grateful for your support. Please don't think of this as me trying to sabotage either you or your work. But in the end I have to prove that I can hold my ground. I simply cannot allow these dwarves to walk all over me. I made the terms of them receiving royal funding clear right from the beginning. Not to meet these demands was their decision."
"I am aware of that, Master Baggins. It seems that we will have to find another way. We simply can't afford the Merchants’ Guild to go bankrupt." On that note, the Master of Traditions left to deliver his message.
Bilbo rubbed his tired eyes before turning around to finish the preparations for the meat-pie for Thorin's lunch. His head felt full enough to burst. He had not had a decent night's sleep in what felt like forever. To deal with these scheming merchants now was out of the question. He could not do so until he had his wits together again. Sadly, he did not even have the slightest idea when that would be. When the pie was in the oven, Bilbo made sure that there were only embers left so that the pie would bake but not burn, and went to change for fieldwork. Thorin had left to see to his duties so he should do the same. The hobbit had not cut his hair for close to a year now, so he had to gather his copper locks and tame them with a string of leather. Long hair was annoying at times, but Thorin loved it so very much that Bilbo couldn't bring himself to shorten it to a more sensible length. Making sure one last time that the pie would be perfect by the time his husband returned from the council session with his father (the prince had a lot of catching up to do after their summer in the Shire) the hobbit left for the fields.
~ ♥ ~
Just like last year, many females had volunteered to help with the harvest. Mostly those with dwarflings old enough to do some work had decided to lend a helping hand with preparing the fields for winter. Especially since Bilbo had insisted that sunshine and fresh air was very important for growing children. Every dwarf who had visited the Shire had been able to tell how happy and healthy fauntlings were. So the dwarven mothers had adapted their protective attitude and allowed their children to leave the mountain more often. To have their dwarflings unsupervised, however, was still unthinkable.
Every child now received a diet of non-poisonous grain, meat and vegetables aplenty. They were positively glowing when running wild around the fields. Their happiness might also stem from the fact that they were no longer sheltered to the point of suffocation, but treated as valuable members of society by being given small tasks to fulfil. That more often than not hay-fights broke out where two or more kids ended buried … well. Their parents feigned ignorance when the fights started and made the young ones pick up after themselves once they were over.
When Bilbo arrived at the hillside, he noticed guards who kept a close eye on the surroundings. After his return from the Shire, Dís had shared how much had changed. Women and children tending to the fields had been the most important difference, but surely not the only one. Yet, both the princess and her father had insisted on armed guards to keep them safe. Bilbo couldn't help but pity those who stood next to the heaps of natural fertilizers, which the farmers were currently distributing on the fields. Maybe he should cook up some mint salve so that they could get some reprieve from the stench.
When the hobbit had mentioned that pieces of horse dung were exceptional fertilizers for the first time, many dwarves had laughed at him. At least until they had realized that Bilbo was dead serious. After a lengthy explanation, they had agreed to collect the droppings from the stables and now barely battered an eyelash when working them into the soil. By the time they were finished, the new irrigation system should be up as well, so that there would be enough water for the manure to mix with the soil before the frost started.
There would be no winter-rye this season since the hobbit didn't want to leech the earth. The Shire now traded willingly with 'Master Baggins' dwarrows', so they were not short on food. They could not throw a feast every other week, but it would be enough to keep everybody satisfied and healthy until next year's harvest.
While watching the miners installing the irrigation lines to distribute water more efficiently, the hobbit made plans for the future. Two years from now he would introduce a rotation of corn and vegetables and leaving one third of the fields fallow. By then Bilbo hoped that the crop would have doubled since the soil was so well cared for. He was confident that with extensive vegetable patches and berry-plants, they would be able to grow enough food.
There were several hunters in the mountains because dwarves preferred meat over vegetables. Still, with a well-balanced diet he could keep his people well cared for.
Maybe he should consider sheep or goats. However, he did not know the first thing about livestock breeding. There also was the possibility of planting orchards in the inner valleys. Some of them got a lot of light and the earth felt good to Bilbo.
Groaning, the hobbit rubbed his eyes again to stop his erratic thoughts. His dwarves had a hard time with farming as it was. He did not want to overtax them. They were no hobbits after all. Seeing to all things that grew did not come naturally to them. Tending to Yavanna's offerings was considered hard work. Very few dwarves were able to find joy in it and even less were willing to take up these responsibilities over more traditional jobs. The women surely were a big help, but their support only went so far. Tending to their families would always be their first priority, as it should be. Still, that left him short on helping hands. Too short to make all of his plans come true.
When two strong arms wrapped around him from behind, Bilbo smiled and leaned into the soothing embrace. Thorin's soft beard tickled his neck when the dwarf placed a tender kiss on his skin. "What are you thinking about, beloved?"
Oh yes, Thorin's way of addressing him had changed since their revealing conversation two weeks ago. Sometimes Bilbo got the impression that his husband overused these endearments. It was as if he was afraid that Bilbo's feelings would change the moment the dwarf slacked in his reassurance that he felt the same. All together Thorin was a lot clingier after his suffering. He avoided any and all attempts to talk about it and forced himself to stay away from Bilbo, whenever the hobbit addressed cautiously what had happened. He had tried yesterday over dinner, and now Thorin was spending hours with his father talking politics. Still the hobbit was aware that his dwarf was tense until he could wrap himself around him once again. Bilbo could practically feel most of the strain bleeding out of his husband as soon as they were together again.
It would do no good to try and talk about it now. So he simply turned in his husband's embrace and rose to his toes to kiss him on the tip of his nose. Deciding that it would be best to stay with safer topics, Bilbo admitted, "About how I would have to turn half our dwarves into hobbits if I wanted to implement all the ideas I have for feeding our people."
Looking from Bilbo to the fields and back to his husband the prince appeared concerned all of a sudden. "Don't you think that our fields will produce enough to sustain us?" Why did the worries never end? All Thorin wanted were a few hours of peace and good news now and then. But after what his father had shared with him, he doubted that that would happen anytime soon. At least Bilbo was still by his side … for now.
When his lover hugged him tight and caressed his back soothingly, Thorin couldn't help but sag a little into the comforting embrace. He was so very tired and the idea of seeing his people starve once again only added to his nightmares. Words could never tell and prayers to Mahal never be enough to show his gratitude for the blessing of having this child of Yavanna by his side. The godly pair had shown benevolence beyond compare in having Bilbo's and his fates entwine. Especially when the hobbit assured him, "We will have enough food. No dwarf will ever go hungry again. Not on my watch. All I was thinking about were ways to keep up our harvest without leeching the soil. But this will be a problem for the year after the next. Right now we can enjoy a rich crop and build up our reserves."
Suddenly remembering the meat-pie, Bilbo frowned at Thorin, while still keeping a firm grip when he felt his husband stiffen. "What are you doing here anyway? Not that I am not happy to see you, my love. But I thought you had a council session to attend to. I put a meat-pie into the oven so that you could have it for lunch."
Forcing a smile, rubbing his bearded chin against Bilbo until his hobbit giggled, Thorin evaded the question. He knew that his beloved wanted him to talk about what had happened, but all he needed was to forget. So he reasoned, "I am skipping the council session. During my time in the Shire, I have been taught that preparing the fields for the winter is very important. So I came to lend a helping hand to the royal consort, like so many others."
Trying to mirror his husband's easy attitude, Bilbo grinned. "And skip yet another meeting with representatives of the Merchants’ Guild where you would get nothing but an ear full about how stubborn and unreasonable your husband is." 'Stay with easy topics,' Bilbo thought to himself. Thorin was so very good at keeping up the pretence that everything was alright, at least outside of their chambers. The hobbit knew that his dwarf could never allow himself to appear weak in front of his people. So he supported him to the best of his abilities.
After hugging his precious hobbit tight for another moment, drawing strength from their contact, Thorin stepped back and started to gather his hair and bind it back so it would not interfere with fieldwork. "I can understand your position. Yet I don't feel up to pretending indifference while listening to complaints about your behaviour, especially not when every dwarf in attendance knows that your requests are entirely reasonable. The Merchants are the stubborn ones."
Gathering one of Thorin's shorter braids and securing it as well, Bilbo took the chance to caress his husband's cheeks. Smiling up at him in earnest, grateful for the support, he kissed his dwarf lovingly before taking his hand. "In that case, I'm happy to have you here. Now come on. Let's see how we can help."
~ ♥ ~
Since Bilbo was both small of stature and skilled in tending the fields, he chose the top terrace to work on. Thorin had helped him to carry the fertilizer and now they worked on spreading it. The hobbit could see a few dwarflings trampling straw into the earth. That was not exactly the right way to protect the soil, but since they had so much fun, the hobbit couldn't bring himself to reprimand them. The sun was shining, the wind was soft and the earth under his feet was healthy and well cared for. Slowly Bilbo felt himself relax and enjoy his time out in the open. He looked up when he noticed that the joyous laughter from the little ones had stopped.
"Thorin!" Swallowing around a knot in his throat, Bilbo called out. "Could you get us more fertilizer, please?"
Looking up, the dwarf only now spotted the three dwarflings that had tried to sneak up on him from behind. Their sheepish grins, and the straw that hit the ground behind them, betrayed their mischievous plan. The dwarf had seen this trick of stuffing straw down someone's back. It itched and the funny looks on the faces of the victim almost always made the culprit laugh. He suspected some kind of dare between the little ones for one of them to be bold enough to prank their prince. That or the little ones simply didn't care about his position. He wouldn't put it past them. At their age almost anything was forgiven if they smiled sweetly and appeared sufficiently contrite. Tousling their hair, Thorin passed them with a smile and went to collect more horse dumping.
With a shaky exhalation, Bilbo leaned on his rake. All the ways this could have gone spectacularly wrong played out in is mind. Since Gentian, Thorin had not liked for someone to come up to him from behind, without that person announcing him- or herself in advance. After the abduction, however, he had become downright paranoid. He almost always stood with his back to a wall or to Bilbo when the hobbit was available. The few times someone had approached him; he had either flinched or worse. Dwalin had even been attacked on one occasion. The warrior had brushed it off as Thorin keeping his guard up, even complimented his prince for his vigilance; but the look he had traded with Bilbo afterwards had betrayed his concern. Now dwarflings had tried the same. Bilbo was not sure that Thorin would have been fast enough to stay his hand when being surprised that way. Not sure at all.
Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep breath once he was far enough away from the little pranksters. He had been able to hold on to his control with an iron grip, not betraying how much being sneaked up on had rattled him. He knew that Bilbo was worried and, as always, tried his very best to keep his concerns to himself. That this had worked out quite poorly for him in the past did not cross his mind. All he wanted was to be able to keep his face in front of his partner. Because in the end Bilbo's opinion, however bad it might be at the moment, was all that mattered. He would regain his husband's respect by proving himself determined and able to cope with what he had allowed to happen to himself. When he returned he pointedly ignored that Bilbo's bag of fertilizer still was half full.
~ ♥ ~