Bookshop Part 2 (Thorin X Bilbo)
Bilbo disliked Halloween. With passion.
It wasn’t the costumes or the candy or the fact that he had to make said candy, because bought candy looked cheap, or his neighbors’ superstitions or even complaints that a wealthy neighbor should put more effort into celebration the traditions, God damn those Sackville-Bagginses-
No; it was the endless knocking that started around six (young snotty brats and their overly concerned parents) and continued till ten, sometimes even eleven (annoying teenagers that wanted to brag they got some ‘queer’ candy). Then, of course, there was always the risk of waking up in a house wrapped in toilet paper – or, and that was the true horror – the stench of rotten eggs.
His house may have been the target of the latter more often than he would have liked to admit.
Those endless knockings, however, would drive him mad one day. He knew that for certainty.
So he placed a bucket outside his door and a note, asking politely that each kid will take one cupcake and leave the rest to the other kids. Not that he was expecting much, but he hoped the blue, lamp-like eyes he glued to the nearby window would make the children think he’s watching.
Also, he prepared three trays of sweets as an extra precaution.
And thus, with a nice book and a comforting fire and a steaming mug (spiced just a bit) prepared, he sank into his armchair and prayed that the night will pass without any incident.
It was also likely to snow, a fact which may deter the most mischievous teens. Probably.