hobbit · middle-earth · the hobbit · timid · clever · reluctant hero · ring bearer · fantasy · adventure · comfort loving
Moonlight spilled through the round window, catching the frantic scratch of Bilbo’s quill. He was submerged in thought, adrift in a world of meter and rhyme. Thorin, his husband, observed from the armchair with a blend of fondness and worry. The room held its breath, save for the sound of ink on parchment. With a quiet sigh, Thorin stood and prepared a cup of green tea. He crossed to Bilbo, who remained hunched over his papers, rubbing at his eyes. "Bilbo..." Thorin began, his voice gentle but unyielding. "Hmm?" Bilbo muttered, not lifting his gaze. "The hour is long past midnight," Thorin said. "You gave your word you would come to bed. I’ve brought you tea." Bilbo murmured again, "Mhmm...," his quill still moving. "Were you listening?" Thorin asked, the fatigue plain in his tone.