Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Bilbo Baggins considered himself simple man.

Not simple in the way of intelligence; he knew he was no genius. He couldn’t draw or paint, he wasn’t very good at maths or science, and he could never remember important historical dates, but he had a good deal of common sense, integrity, and humor. He could also write.

Oh, could he write.

Bilbo had a particular aptitude with the language of storytelling, and immaculate penmanship. He would delight the neighborhood children with the stories his mother had told him when he was a child.

If you can keep a child entertained, Bilbo would think with no small amount of pride, then you surely must have some skill.

Writing was Bilbo’s second favorite hobby. His first, naturally, was reading. A good book, a cup of tea, and a warm fire were all he really needed.

Bilbo Baggins was a simple man.

Simple men, however, also had simple needs, like sleep, and he trudged down the stairs at six in the morning cursing whoever thought it proper to bang on his door in such a manner.

“Good Morning, Mr Baggins!” The lanky youth at the door greeted him cheerily. He stepped aside to let the lad in.

“It’s six in the morning, Ori.” Bilbo blinked sleepily at the boy in the hall, trying to remember why he was here. “Do Uni kids even get up this early? I don’t open for another hour.”

“My apologies, Mr Baggins,” Ori said bashfully. “I’m used to waking up early. I thought you might want help opening today, I didn’t think you were asleep.”

“What’s so special about today?” Bilbo shuffled past Ori and put a kettle on behind the counter. Ori followed.

“Durin’s day, Mr Baggins!” Ori cried. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!”

In truth, he had forgotten. Bilbo had been living in this town longer than Ori has been alive, but the local Durin’s Day holiday always happened to slip his mind. He hadn’t celebrated it since his parents’ passing; holidays were far less fun on one’s own. Besides, Bag End was one of the few shops that stayed open today, and there was always a large incursion of business on holidays.

“I can’t have you working today, Ori!” Bilbo objected. “You live locally, don’t you? You should celebrate with your family.”

“I couldn’t leave you to the holiday rush by yourself!” Ori countered. “I would much rather be here today.” Ori let his sentence trail off awkwardly.

“Oh?” Bilbo inquired, pouring them both a cup of tea when the kettle finished boiling. “Did you invite someone by for the Holiday?”

When Ori didn’t answer, Bilbo smiled and took it as a yes.

“A special guest, then?” Bilbo continued. “Shall I make a lunch?” He took small pleasure when Ori jumped back and tittered nervously.

“It was nothing so dramatic, Mr Baggins!” Ori waved his hands in front of his face as if to ward off the suggestion. “They’re friends. I mentioned that I worked here; they were interested.”

Bilbo smiled and drank his tea. He hadn’t planned on hiring Ori, but he enjoyed the lad’s company. When Ori had popped in the first time, Bilbo wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. He knew he was young, much younger than his usual patrons; Bag End normally attracted customers of the middle-aged variety. That was also the reason he knew it was Ori’s first visit.

“Can I help you with something?” Bilbo may not have been a very social person, but he’d sooner eat a tea towel than not treat someone with according kindness.

“Ah, can I get a sandwich or something, I suppose?” The boy fidgeted and looked around. “And if you could tell me where the adventure novels are, I would appreciate it.”

Bilbo fixed the boy one of his most popular sandwiches and walked him over to the section of bookshelves where he sorted Action/Adventure novels. The modern Adventure novels, Bilbo had told him, were on the shelf in front of them. If he wanted fantasy adventure, check the Fantasy shelf, which was to the right, same with Sci-fi.

Bilbo discussed his favorite Adventure novels, and his preference for Fantasy to Sci-fi with the young lad, who surprised him with a vast knowledge of plot devices and the underlying themes of the duality of science in Sci-fi novels (which Bilbo decided he would have to check out later).

The conversation ended when another customer entered and Bilbo hurried to see to them, leaving the boy to his sandwich and a novel about pirates that Bilbo recommended to him.

The boy (Bilbo later learned his name, Ori) soon became a regular fixture at Bag End. He would stop in every Friday right before lunch rush, order a sandwich, pick up whichever book he was reading off the shelf, and curl into the chair in the corner. He would stay for a good amount of time, well after the rest of the lunch rush had left. Then, carefully, he would place the book exactly where it had been on the shelf, stack his plate at the bin, and head out with a polite wave toward Bilbo. Sometimes, if Bilbo had no other engagements, Ori would chat with him before heading out.

Eventually, Bilbo grew fond of Ori, fond enough to rescue the book he knew the boy was reading when another patron wanted to trade it. He got in the habit of keeping Ori’s current book behind the counter.

Then, his pattern changed.

Ori stalked in one Sunday afternoon, forsaking his usual armchair for one of the bar stools at the counter, crossed his arms and rested his head on them. It was four in the afternoon, and there were very few people in the shop, so Bilbo did the only thing he was particularly good at: he made the lad a cup of tea, and waited for him to talk about it.

He didn’t have to wait long, as it were. Halfway through a cup Ori let out a magnificent sigh. He apologised for the way he burst into Bilbo’s shop and launched into a long explanation about his overbearing older brother, whom he loved very much, but who drove him mad all the same. It was right after a particularly long spiel about how he needed to find a hobby outside of the house that Bilbo offered him the job.

He accepted, of course.

Quite right, too, since (presumably) Ori’s word-of-mouth brought other curious Uni kids who then told others and it really escalated from there. The point being that Bilbo needed the help.

That’s how he found himself, two months later, pulling down chairs and organizing new books with Ori, a lad he had come to particularly care for.

A lad he also just happened to be able to read.

Thus, Bilbo (who was much too curious for his own health) made a game with himself to identify Ori's special guest before they were introduced. It turned out to be harder than it seemed as nearly every student who lived in the dorms was celebrating the local holiday, and most of the ones who came to Bag End knew Ori by some extension.

There was the pale girl with red hair who smiled at Ori like they were friends, and her companion, a brown-skinned male who said something all three of them laughed at. Then there was a blonde, a brunette, a lad with pink hair, another brunette, three girls with black hair, and a strange bloke wearing a trench coat who made Bilbo feel generally uncomfortable. When three o’clock rolled around, Bilbo had quite given up.

And that, it seems, is when everything started.

Bilbo didn’t see the boys approach the counter until they were right in front of him. One was blonde, with his long hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail, the other was brunette, cut around his shoulders, and tied half-up haphazardly. The blonde one dropped a small stack of books on the counter next to Bilbo.

“I’d like to trade these in,” the boy stated. Bilbo was far too surprised by the sudden noise to properly reply.

“Huh?”

“I’d like to trade these books in,” he repeated, no less confident.

“That’s how it works here, right?” the brunette added, and Bilbo composed himself.

“Yes, of course.” Bilbo shifted the stack of books off to the side. “Look around on the shelves and bring the books you would like to trade. The rate is one-for-one.”

The blonde nodded his understanding and strode off, but his brunette companion stayed behind. The dark-haired boy leaned on the counter, and Bilbo was not quite sure what to do, so he fell back on default.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Bilbo asked the boy, covering his awkward feelings with a well-practiced smile.

“Ah, you make coffee here right?” The boy smiled brightly when Bilbo nodded. “I’ve always wanted to try one of those fancy sounding ones. Cap-u? Cappu sino? Cap-Al-Pacino?”

Bilbo laughed despite himself and began preparing the coffee.

“Cappuccino, lad.” Bilbo smiled, amused, and the brunette replied with a smile of his own. “It’s a Italian drink made with espresso and hot milk.”

“Sounds interesting,” the boy offered, smiling. “Also explains the stupid name. I’ll have one of those.”

Bilbo set about making the drink, while the smiling boy watched with interest. Bilbo tried not to fidget under his stare, but ended up spilling a bit of frothed milk anyway. The brown-haired boy paid for his drink and took a small sip.

“This is really very good!” He smiled encouragingly and took a larger sip. “You seem to know a lot about coffee and making it, despite the mishap with the milk.”

Rude, Bilbo thought, and huffed rather indignantly.

“I’m glad my skill is so pleasing to you.” Bilbo postulated. The boy frowned curiously. “One does need to have the particular knowledge of coffee and tea when one runs a café.”

The frown was gone the very next instant, and Bilbo was met with the most charming smile he’d ever seen.

“Then, you must be Mr Boggins!” the boy exclaimed, surprising Bilbo immensely.

“Baggins,” Bilbo corrected, at the exact same time Ori popped out of the storage room and said “It’s Baggins, you prat.”

“Ori,” Bilbo chided, turning to the lad, at the exact same moment that the brunette boy replied “Good to see you too, Ori.”

“Piss off, Kili.” Ori’s tone held no mirth, and both boys grinned.

“So, you’re Kili, then?” Bilbo interjected, trying to get a handle on the conversation. Ori dropped the packages of cream and sugar he was carrying onto the counter.

“My apologies, Mr Baggins,” Ori offered sincerely, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “This is Kili, he’s a classmate and a good friend. That’s his brother, Fili.”

“The better half,” Fili joked as he approached the counter again. Kili gave a disbelieving scoff, but still smiled at his brother. Fili placed the books he retrieved in front of Bilbo so the shorter man could catalogue them.

“It must be tedious to keep records by hand,” Kili said idly, still sipping at his drink.

“I suppose it is,” Bilbo agreed. “It’s much better than the alternative, however, which is no records at all!”

“Why even bother with records!” Kili bemoaned. “You must have books shuffling in and out all the time. Why keep track?”

“I like to know what we have on the shelves,” Bilbo said defensively, and with that he handed Fili the books he had picked out, and took the ones he traded over to the shelves. He shelved them properly (alphabetically by genre, then by author), chatting with a few regulars about books and tea, and a few kids from Uni who asked him for book suggestions. When Bilbo returned to the counter, Fili had ordered a drink and both boys were chatting amiably with Ori while he helped customers.

“Have you refilled the cream and sugar, Ori?” Bilbo asked, nodding at the boxes on the counter.

“Oh! No, Mr Baggins.” Ori hefted the boxes and swung around the counter in one fluid movement. “Doing it now!”

“He’s so forgetful sometimes!” Kili tittered and Fili hid his smile behind a sip of coffee. “Where did you find him, Mr Baggins?”

“Found me rather!” Bilbo laughed. “He just showed up one day and hasn’t left.”

“Wormed right into your life, huh?” Fili chuckled. “He has a knack for that.” There was something thoughtful in the boy’s smile that made Bilbo stare curiously for a moment before gathering his wits for a response.

“I found that I quite liked the company, I think.” Bilbo didn’t read too much into Fili’s thoughtful smile (he would happen upon the memory later when thinking about something else and suddenly everything would make sense). “It’s gets rather lonely living by yourself in a café.”

“Does none of your family come visit you?” Kili asked curiously.

“My closest relative is my cousin, Drogo,” Bilbo mused. “He lives a good distance away, and we don’t have a close enough relationship to warrant a visit.”

“You really have no family around here?” Ori appeared suddenly, seemingly awestruck and equally engrossed in his life as the other two were.

“Not since my parents,” Bilbo admitted. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say as all three boys stared at him almost horror-struck. That was the same time that a brunette girl approached the counter. Bilbo made her drink and turned back to the boys, all of whom had not said a word.

“You go to University, right?” Bilbo asked the two brothers, hoping to change the subject. “Is your family close by?”

“Sort of,” Kili replied cautiously.

“Our mother lives in the Blue Mountains,” Fili added helpfully.

“That’s quite a distance.” Bilbo nodded sympathetically.

“We live with our Uncle here in town.” Kili smiled again, and Bilbo felt a little of the tension leave the conversation. “He owns a mechanic shop just over the water.”

Bilbo grimaced on reflex; he tried to pass it of as a facial twitch, but the damage had been done.

“It’s really not that bad!” Kili waved his hands in what Bilbo was sure the boy thought was a reassuring gesture. “Uncle is a nice fellow, and our neighbors are great, too!”

Bilbo was sure that Kili was telling the truth, but it hardly mattered if his Uncle was Aulë himself; the fact was that the other side of the river was not a place gentlefolk like Bilbo went without good reason.

“Of course,” Bilbo acknowledged, smiling. This seemed to placate Kili, and he launched into a spiel about his Uncle.

“Uncle Thorin is a good sort, but he doesn’t like anyone to know,” Kili giggled at a joke that only he understood, apparently.

“He offered to let us live with him while we’re at Uni so we’d be near family,” Fili added, when it appeared that Kili was satisfied with his contribution. “He’s very stern; won’t let us slip in our studies, curfews, and all that. Sometimes it’s maddening, but we know he cares.”

Bilbo gave a small, real smile. It was obvious how important family was to these boys.

It must be nice, Bilbo thought idly. They chatted a bit more in between drinks and customers, but soon the two brothers had to get home. They left with smiles and promises to return and Bilbo thought them, altogether, rather charming. A bit odd, certainly, but Bilbo was no stranger to being thought odd, and they seemed nice enough. It was only when they were closing up for the night that Bilbo spoke to Ori about them.

“They’re nice lads,” Bilbo started as he swept the floor. Ori stacked the chairs on their tables, giving only a pleased hum in reply. “How do you know them?”

“University,” Ori responded without pausing. “Life. We grew up together, sort of. Family... friends and all that.”

“That must be nice,” Bilbo replied honestly. At this, Ori paused. Bilbo heard him still, but made no move to acknowledge it; he waited for Ori to speak.

“You know, Mr Baggins,” he began carefully. “It may just be my brothers and me, and honestly they drive me completely mad most of the time.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “What I mean is, I’m sure my brothers wouldn’t mind having you over for tea. If you’ve ever have the time.”

Bilbo smiled. He was touched by the gesture, he really was, but he couldn’t think of anything more awkward that having tea with his youthful employee’s elder brothers. Well, he could, but tea with Ori’s family ranked high on his list of awkward things. Nevertheless, he sincerely thanked Ori for his thought, and if the boy gave him an embarrassed hug before leaving, well, Bilbo wouldn’t tell.