Chapter Text
Covered in mucus as he was, Bilbo was not likely to forget his experience with trolls for as long as he lived. Even now, standing in the sunlight several hours after the whole ordeal, he would release little shivers of disgust. This was the closest he’s come to death in his entire fifty-one years of existence, and they weren’t even close to the mountain yet. More and more, he was beginning to regret running out his hole.
Once the full story came to light on just how he came to be in the possession of three trolls intent on cooking him, Fili and Kili were sent off to catch the ponies with more punishment to come. Bilbo stood before Thorin awaiting to hear his verdict as well. Their esteemed leader barely spared him a glance of disdain before marching away. He knew he should feel relieved that he wasn’t held accountable for the night, but he couldn’t stop thinking of his father teaching him about gardening.
Flowers that had potential to survive were pruned and maintained. Lost causes were ripped out and left behind as mulch for the stronger buds.
Bilbo felt as close to mulch as a lone hobbit in a company of dwarves could be, he supposed. Not really having much of a purpose, he followed Gandalf and the others to the edge of the troll cave. He got maybe ten steps in before he was gagging and resisting the urge to retch right there at the entrance. He didn’t know how he could have endured so much in the disgusting habits of trolls and still not smelled the worst they had to offer. Perhaps, he wouldn’t follow them in. Not that anyone really noticed.
He turned to make a quick exit when his eyes stopped on a small brass box pressed into earth by what he would assume was a giant troll foot. If he hadn’t already been bent double, he doubted he would have seen it. It was probably nothing special, but the little carvings on it reminded him of his mother’s old puzzle box. His insatiable Tookish curiosity grabbed hold of him, and before he realized it he was digging the small prize out.
His fingers glided over the odd runes and sliding squares. He used the only corner of his coat not ruined to wipe the dirt away to allow the sliding pieces more room. There appeared to be twelve positions on the box and only eleven squares to move them in. Each square was marked, but he wasn’t sure as to the sequence in which they needed to be in order to open. His fingers swiped them up, over, down, over, over, up, fascinated by the odd toy.
“What have you got there, Mister Baggins?” Balin looked up from his discussion with Oin and Bombur about supplies.
Bilbo jerked before giving a shrug and slipping the little box in his pocket.
“Just a puzzle. Nothing important.”
Balin nodded indulgently looking ready to ask him something when Gandalf appeared thrusting a sword at his chest. Not that he had any idea as to how to use it other than point it at his enemies and hope they run themselves upon it. The old wizard wasn’t a whole lot of help with that either, other than to advise him to use it more like a deterrent. Well, he could only hope anyone he faced was just the least bit afraid of a hobbit with an overgrown knife, although from the few smirks he received as he struggled to strap it onto his waist he wasn’t willing to bet on it.
He had been certain he was going to have to prove just how inadequate he was when something burst through the brush only for it to be another strange wizard. As Gandalf discussed...whatever he discusses with other wizards, Bilbo was left to himself. So he sat down and began to fiddle with the puzzle box again. Over, over, up, over, down. It was forming some sort of pattern, and he was so excited to find out what lay inside, he didn’t even notice one of the dwarves sneaking up on him.
“What’s that?” Bofur asked, peeking over his shoulder.
The hobbit jumped, nearly dropping the thing before clutching it close to his heart.
“You startled me!” He accused.
“I didn’t mean nothing by it.” Bofur laughed with his hands held in front of him.
“Yes, well…” Bilbo grumbled as he brought the puzzle box back out.
“You’re one for games I see.” Bofur teased over his shoulder as he watched Bilbo work.
Bilbo hummed in response, not too bothered by the dwarf’s presence until he started trying to assist.
“Will you just let me do it?” He demanded.
Bofur laughed loudly, turning a few heads in their direction. Bilbo rolled his eyes going back to his game when the piece he slid down made an audible click. The hobbit gasped in surprise and elation as he found a small knob sticking out from where the missing piece would go. Wondering just what was inside the little puzzle box, Bilbo pressed down on the knob, and the box swung open.
Bilbo was taken in a coughing fit as a cloud of golden dust rushed out to meet him. He dropped the box on the ground as he frantically worked to expel the stuff from his lungs.
“Are you alright, lad?” Oin pressed as Bilbo’s condition pulled tears from his eyes.
Bilbo tried to wave him away, but the older dwarf went ahead and pushed a waterskin into his hand. Bilbo nodded his head in thanks, taking a swallow that helped ease his discomfort. Well, that’s what he got for playing with something he got out of a troll hoard. Lesson learned.
“Uh...Bilbo?” Bofur called his attention.
“What, Bofur?” Bilbo choked out.
When Bofur turned back to him, his face was chalk white. Bilbo co*cked his head to the side wondering what had the dwarf so distressed. Bilbo was only fairly certain he wasn’t dying.
“Your name is on this box.” He murmured holding the puzzle box out to him.
“WHAT?” Bilbo exclaimed, taking it back while fighting off another cough.
Bofur handed the box back to him, and there it was. In the final square where there hadn’t been a piece, a new one appeared with the name Bilbo Baggins written in his elegant script. Bilbo felt numb staring down at his name and internally cursing his inability to leave things alone.
“What’s going on over here?” Thorin demanded, having decided to make his way towards the gathering crowd around the hobbit.
For the first time practically since they’ve met, Bilbo ignored him as he screamed out for the one person who could fix this.
“Gandalf!”
The wizard was either so deep in his conversation that he didn’t hear him, or he decided Bilbo’s problems couldn’t possibly compare to theirs.
“GANDALF!” Bilbo shouted again as he pushed through the dwarves to get to him.
“What, Mister Baggins, could possibly be so important that you feel the need to interrupt…?”
The grey wizard trailed off as Bilbo thrust the puzzle box at him. Gandalf stared at it gingerly until he noticed Bilbo’s name now etched onto the surface.
“Did you open it?” He glared down at Bilbo sharply.
“Well, yes, but…”
“Fool of a Took!” Gandalf cursed, cutting off Bilbo’s explanation.
The hobbit shrunk away from the wizard feeling properly chastised for the first time since he was a young faunt. Radagast peeked over Gandalf’s shoulder only to gasp in shock at what he was seeing.
“Is that really…?” The brown wizard started muttering before he was interrupted.
“What’s wrong, Gandalf?” Thorin demanded.
“Your burglar decided to open the lost Box of Transformations.” Gandalf grumbled.
Bilbo could feel the weight of fifteen pairs of eyes and was quite content counting his toes than looking up to meet any of them.
“What does that mean?” Thorin growled out, clearly regretting having ever taken the hobbit out of the Shire.
“It means,” Gandalf sighed. “I was not wrong to say Bilbo’s involvement would be most amusing.”
Bilbo turned up to glare at Gandalf who was watching him with a contemplative expression.
“It’s not funny, Gandalf.” Bilbo remarked.
The small smirk fell from Gandalf’s face, his eyes remaining solemn.
“No, it’s not.”
Honestly, that didn’t make Bilbo feel better.
“So what’s going to happen to him?” Bofur worried, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Gandalf and Radagast shared a look, but it was the brown wizard who answered Bofur.
“Mister Baggins will be going through a series of twelve magical transformations. The last of which...well, hopefully it doesn’t get to that point.”
“Gandalf…” Bilbo whined.
“Like what?” Kili pressed in interest. “Will he turn purple?”
“Will he grow tusks?” Fili added.
“Will he turn invisible?”
“Will he go bald?”
Bilbo could only stare at Gandalf with increasing horror every time the two came up with a different suggestion of what could happen to him.
“Each transformation will be quite random in appearance, duration, and abilities. Even we can not predict what form he will take.” Gandalf answered.
“Can’t you fix it?!” Bilbo cried out aghast.
“You’ve found an ancient treasure that has not been seen since the First Age, my dear hobbit. I don’t have remedies to all the magical mishaps of the world just sitting around in my memories.” Gandalf smiled, not unkindly. “Still there is a library nearby…”
“No!” Thorin snapped knowing exactly what the wizard was hinting at. “I’ve already said we will not go to the elves.”
“I’m afraid, you don’t have much of a choice at this point. Mister Baggins’ life depends on it.” Gandalf grumbled.
“What do you mean my life depends on it?” Bilbo hissed.
Unfortunately, he never got the answer to his question as a curious golden cloud filled the clearing seeming to emit from his very body. The dwarves and wizards watched in varying degrees of curiosity and disturbance.
“Alright! It’s starting!” Kili exclaimed looking far too excited by the prospect.
Bilbo glared at him as he felt an uncomfortable swoop in his belly, and the world around him seemed to grow a lot taller. He had just enough time to scream out for Gandalf before the first transformation took him. Unfortunately, no one noticed as the first piece on the box disappeared sealing the fate of our dear burglar hobbit.
