Thorin was tired. He had been walking all day, heaving a pack behind his shoulders, and while usually that would not bother him, today was different. He had been feeling feverish. For the last few hours his fingers were cold, and his ears felt as though they were stuffed with drums. The blasted road didn’t seem to have an end, even though he was assured at the tavern that the village was not far off. Once more the dwarf thought on his situation, and the circumstances that had forced him into finding labor where he went. Damn that dragon, and damn those elves, who abandoned them at their greatest hour of need!
The dwarf was so lost in thought that he took no notice of the gathering clouds, covering the sky in their blanket. What he did pay attention to though was the fat droplets of rain hitting his face, and growing into a steadily increasing downpour, obscuring his vision and making further travel even more unadvisable. Try as he might, there was not a lot of speed he could put out for his pace, as he still tried to stay on the path. Unfortunately it seemed luck was not at his side that day, as all of a sudden ground gave way to a muddy slope and Thorin slipped in the runny surface and went tumbling down the hill. The last thing he saw before pain exploded in his head, were the flashes of light in the distance and the heavy smell of earth, as he sunk into unconsciousness.
Bilbo struggled to see through the rain, as he trudged through the mud, coming closer and closer to Bag End. Oh why did he have to pick today to go and see the traveling market at the far fields! He knew it was going to rain, the signs have been there all morning, and yet his Took side have gone right ahead and reared its head, and made him travel out of his hobbit hole, and into the downpour. As he tried desperately to keep his purchases from getting too water logged and himself from drowning on land, Bilbo saw a lumpy shape lying by the hill, where he knew for sure there was nothing in the morning, seeing as he went right by this spot to go to the market. As he approached, the hobbit’s breath caught in his throat, and his bag of books went tumbling down, as saw what was unmistakably a person half buried in the watery dirt. Rushing towards him Bilbo desperately hoped that the stranger was alright and not truly buried under all the masses. Approaching fast and sinking down to his knees by the other’s head, Bilbo saw that he was facing upwards, and after carefully leaning in and being very still for a few moments, confirmed that he was breathing as well. Letting out a sigh of relief the hobbit tries to assess the situation best he could.
He could not leave the poor man there, and he most certainly did not want his conscious to scream at him later for letting him die in a ditch, so Bilbo decided that the stranger was coming home with him. And by the looks of it, it would be on his hobbit back, though Bilbo to himself as he tried to heave the other upwards. It proved to be unsuccessful as the man turned out to be extremely heavy, despite his stoutness, and Bilbo managed to spot a bag of leather lying nearby.
Huffing and struggling, the hobbit managed to sit the other man upright, and reached towards the bag, pulling it closer to them. Lifting it slightly he was delighted at the semi-lightness of it, as that meant that he would not have to be making a return trip to pick up the man’s luggage, rather he could bring them both in at the same time.
Now while Bilbo was pretty average for a hobbit, he did possess some strength, and after securing the light pack he went down on his knees, bend his head and awkwardly rolled the heavy stranger onto his shoulders. Standing wobbly, and tittering at the weight, Bilbo took a deep breath, and trudged on towards his house. He had a man to warm up, and heal, and he was better to be quick about it, if the heat running off of the other was any indication. The hobbit didn’t want all his effort to go to waste by losing his mysterious stranger to sickness.
Forgotten about, the parcel of books and trinkets, purchased earlier at the market, laid on the ground, soaking in mud and water, slowly being left out of sight from a wobbling small figure with a big shape thrown over its shoulders that was staggering towards the village of Bag End and the cozy hobbit hole of one Bilbo Baggins.