Chapter Text
It was precisely 7:25.
not 7:20, not 7:30; Not even 7:26. As it was always 7:25 when the lock to his Office clicked. He hung his jacket, set down his bag and put the kettle on. Using the time until the water was at the right temperature to open the blinds and check if his plants needed water.
3,5 Minutes, a splash of milk and one sugar. The way he loved it, a smell of comfort. For a moment he looked over the campus visible from his office, sipping on his tea like he did every morning.
7:50
He stored his teacup back on the shelf he used as a mini kitchen, it held his cup and precisely one more for guests, electric kettle, sugar and milk, alongside his mothers favourite blend. Which in turn has become his favourite blend; the smell of bergamot and woodsmoke a smell of home. One last look at the small mirror he had hung next to the jacket hook, doing a desperate attempt at besting his honey copper curls. Scowling at the dark circles hinting at the late hours he has spend over his thesis.
By 8 he had reached his usual desk in the Bodleian. Waiting for his first subject he’d tutor today. Looking over assignments and essays. If he could he wouldn’t. He found it annoying, exhausting even. Half of them where still brats not much caring for their marks, and the other half was straight up dimwits who’s money bought them into it. There were a few he enjoyed tutoring, but those where far and in between. But he could see the same fire in their eyes like he had back when he first joined the faculty.
At 12 he retreated into his office only to find it occupied by an old man, calmly smoking his pipe. ||Well at least he opened the windows this time||
“Professor, I didn’t expect you to see you today. what brings you into my humble… clutter” He motioned to the endless papers and books strewn all across the room.
“Ah Bilbo, on time like always.” He was at least graciously enough to remove his feet from where they had been probed up on the desk: “I haven’t received an answer about the excursion offers. So I wanted to check in. My Boy, your thesis is coming along well now would be an excellent time to head out for some praxis work. And these are all good offers.”
“No thank you… And I did reply. It just wasn’t the answer you’d wanted to hear.” Bilbo groaned, dealing with the excentric Professor was always a challenge.
“That’s why I have come with another offer. One that is of personal interest to me too. But perhaps some tea first, yes?”
“Of course”
Bilbo set to preparing tea for the two of them, while his professor started to prattle on and on about this great offer, of an adventure. Of how it would do Bilbo good to go out and see his field in action.
“This folder contains everything you’d need to know.” Professor Greyhaime held out the offending object.
“…Of personal interest you say?” Bilbo set down his empty cup. “Professor I don’t think I am the right person for this, I am happy here, with my books, my records and my plants.”
“But that’s not all there is to history.” The professor exasperates. “At least take a look at it. I am quite sure this will do you well”
With that he was out the door. Leaving a very flabbergasted Bilbo behind. ||I swear if he wouldn’t have been such a good friend of mum I would not let half of this slide.|| He grumbled internally as he righted the artificial chaos that had been disturbed. He frowned at his missed lunch window and returned to his afternoon study session, turning his attention fully to his own thesis.
· ─ ·✶· ─ ·
No matter how well structured his life was the moment he turned to his own studies, his thesis, everything fell apart. Buried between stacks of historical record, first hand telling and ledgers he had once more successfully missed the last option to get anything edible that wasn’t cup noodles on campus and he didn’t feel like fast food; Not again at least.
Mumbling curses under his breath he packed his things up, slightly jumping as he got shushed by the library warden for it. He hefted the books he would require for tonight’s study session into his arms, pausing at the sight of a B. Baggins listed as the author on one of the books. ||That would be a terror to explain|| He groused, hoping that the first name would variate from his own enough to not cause a case of academic source faking. That was the last thing he could use now.
Now having everything for another night of too little sleep, too little progress and bad posture, he strode purposefully out of the library and into the sunset. Once again thanking whatever entity in charge for him getting this apartment so close to campus. It was only a 15 minute bike ride and led him past a 24/7 supermarket.
Once home he kicked the door shut behind him, dumping both books and last minute groceries on the kitchen table; The only table he truly had in this shoebox. And setting to work on yet another portion of late night noodles with pesto.
While the noodles boiled, he started to sort through tonights material, suddenly holding the folder of Professor Greyhaimes excursion in his hands. Back in his office he had just dumped the whole thing into his bag without giving it a further thought; already set on rejecting the offer like all the others. Or at least had thought so. Now leaning against the countertop, scanning through it a few things caught his attention.
He started to dig through his literary sources he had brought home spreading the maps, photos and summaries between open books. The excursion was linking too well into his studies. It focused on the same Scottish clan he had been looking into. The Clan Durin had been a wide spread and wealthy clan back in the 16th-17th century before the crown had seized all their assets, essentially destroying lineage and heritage of the clan. If Bilbos informations where correct some splinter parts of said clan still existed to this day. And there it was in his file ‘Excursion and Excavation of the ruins of Castle Erebor kindly sponsored by Clan chief Thorin Durin’.
The boiling over water pulled Bilbo out of his thoughts, cursing like a sailor as he tried to safe his dinner and kitchen floors. Accepting his overboiled soggy noodles as he sat back down, a bowl of tomato pesto noodles in his lap; He dove promptly back into the information handed to him by his Professor, eager to find every link possible.
· ─ ·✶· ─ ·
7:25, the next morning. But the door stayed locked, no tea was made in the very small, too cluttered office.
7:50, no blinds opened, no plants checked; No tea consumed overlooking the greenery outside.
by 8:30 reports had reached Professor Greyhaime about the missing of One Bilbo Baggins.
· ─ ·✶· ─ ·
Bilbo woke to the sunlight tickling his nose; the sun had no business being this high up already at this time of the day. He sat up slowly, neck and spine cracking as he did so. He was becoming too old to be sleeping hunched over notes at the kitchen table. One of his post its was even still sticking to his forehead.
He blinked a few time at the audacious gas ball illuminating his apartment. Reality of the late hour slowly dawning on him.
“Fuuuuuuuck…” He groaned, fishing through his pockets for his phone, seeing one singular text message notification.
‘So about that excursion. Would leaving for Scotland on the 27th of April suit you?’
Bilbo stared at the message, contemplating his next move. His thumb already hovering over the call button.
“Good morning Bi—”
“Now listen here you old bastard” Bilbo grumbled without any real heat.
“Yes yes” Professor Greyhaime laughed: “I’ll inform the Excavation party that you’ll join them and send you you’re train ticket once I have heard back from them. I have also already labelled you out of the office sick for today. Enjoy your day of researching”
He had severed the connection before Bilbo could have gotten another word in. Leaving Bilbo to once more stare at his phone, flabbergasted at the sheer audacity of his Professor. He decided to relocate to the bed for the time being as a migraine, possibly from the terrible sleeping position, made itself known. And with nowhere to go a prolonged nap sounded entirely too tempting.