Heart's Mysteries

BY : Lady_Laran
Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The
Dragon prints: 422
Disclaimer: I do not own "the Hobbit" or "Sherlock;" I do not make money from this story. They are owned by the BBC, estates of Tolkien and Doyle.

Author’s Note – I got bit with this other night, and the wombat is not wanting to let go. It’s very much not quite my normal style, and I see it as a challenge. We shall see how it turns out. I’m doing this for FemBagginshield Week on Tumblr. This will be slow on updates as I’ve got other projects to focus on, but I will keep the updates going as I can.

 

Warnings – Crossover, gender-bending, alternate universe for both Hobbit and Sherlock, and reincarnation.

 

Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” or “Sherlock.” I don’t make money from this either.

 

Chapter One – Homecoming

 

“Is that everything?”

 

John’s cousin looked up from where she had been stacking boxes and gave him a tired smile and nod.

 

“It is,” she answered, stretching and wincing when she felt her spine pop. “I’m glad your landlady was willing to get the flat lined out for me so quickly.”

 

“When she heard of the problem, she was happy to help. Mrs. Hudson is a gem,” the former soldier told her. “Why don’t we pop up to my flat, have some tea, and call for a take-away? We’re both knackered, and you probably forgot to eat again.”

 

She blushed, a delicate shade of pink rising in her cheeks, and he gently guided her out of the flat and up the stairs to 221B.

 

“I got busy,” she admitted. “Having to pack up the house, transfer services, and ensuring my clients knew I would be unavailable for a few days kept me rather occupied.”

 

“It used to be that auntie never had to worry about your appetite,” he said, looking worried. “University certainly left changes on you, Bilbo, and it seems to have gotten worse while I was away.”

 

“Growing up usually does,” Bilbo answered, looking down for a moment before following him into his flat.

 

“John, I asked you for the laptop ages ago,” a man stated from his reclined position on the sofa.

 

“I haven’t been home all day, Sherlock,” John sighed, shaking his head. “I told you several days ago that I’d be helping my cousin move today. I even reminded you this morning before I left.”

 

“Did you,” he asked, sitting up as he heard an unexpected voice ask a question.

 

“Is he always like this,” Bilbo asked her cousin.

 

“I’m afraid so,” the doctor answered, giving a smile when he heard her giggle.

 

Sherlock rose to his feet, eyeing the woman standing beside his flatmate. She was slightly shorter than John but had the same blue eyes and shared similar facial features. She was also blond, wearing it long to where it fell to her shoulder blades, and it was curly where her cousin’s was straight. The woman had pale skin, near porcelain, and he knew it would not take a tan like John’s was able to.

 

After picking up the noticeable physical similarities, Sherlock began truly observing. He could tell she enjoyed tea, spotted the ink on her fingers from books, and noticed many other facts about the small female.

 

“Sherlock, this is my cousin, Wilhelmina Watson. Bilbo, this is my flatmate and friend, Sherlock Holmes.”

 

The introduction pulled him away from his observations, and he gave a nod as she addressed him.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes. John has spoken a great deal about you,” she said with a gentle smile that reminded him a great deal of his flatmate’s smile.

 

“Sherlock, please,” he answered. “I take it you’ve taken Mrs. Hudson’s spare flat?”

 

“I have,” she replied. “She was kind enough to have it repaired for my use when John mentioned I needed a place to live.”

 

“We’re about to call for take-away,” John said, guiding his cousin to the chair he usually sat on when in the living room. “Anything you want?”

 

“Indian?”

 

When she nodded at the questioning look from her cousin, the doctor nodded as well.

 

“Sounds good,” he said. “Your usual?”

 

“Hmm, yes and extra naan,” the consulting detective stated, sinking back down onto the sofa.

 

“Bilbo?”

 

“Butter chicken, please,” she asked. “Let me go get my wallet.”

 

“You can get it next time,” John said, waving off the concerned look.

 

“If you’re sure,” Bilbo murmured, knowing John was under financial difficulties due to having to leave the military as he had as well as the restrictions he’d been under that hadn’t allowed him to start working once he’d left hospital.

 

“I am,” he said, patting her shoulder before going to get the take-away menu from the drawer he and Sherlock kept them in.

 

Once alone, she became aware of the intense stare on her and met the heterochromatic gaze fearlessly. Bilbo had become used to stares like this over the years and had learned to meet them without showing weakness.

 

“John’s spoken quite a bit about you,” she said to him.

 

“Has he?”

 

“Yes, he has,” she answered with a nod. “I was rather worried about him after he was invalided out of the military; he enjoyed working with RAMC and to lose it as well as his ability to practice surgery had him in a tailspin. Papa and I tried to convince him to come home, but he said he didn’t want to be a burden. You helped him find himself again, and I am grateful to you for that.”

 

“I suspect he would have found it eventually; he is brighter than most,” Sherlock admitted, watching her as she responded.

 

“Oh I know he would have,” Bilbo agreed. “John is much stronger than he appears, but even the strongest souls need time to recover. He’s always been the one we could always rely on to lead us on our adventures as children.”

 

“No, you were the strong one,” John answered, stealing Sherlock’s usual chair. “No matter what crazy ideas I’d come up with, you were right beside me even when you were frightened by the idea originally.”

 

The detective could see doubt and pain fill the blue eyes that were remarkably like his friend’s; he could see the concern on John’s face and knew he’d seen it too.

 

“Not really,” she answered, forcing herself to smile. “I just followed along because I wanted to be like my cousins.”

 

“Not how I remember it,” the doctor chuckled. “Harry and I were moved into our aunt and uncle’s house when we were children after our parents died in a car crash. We weren’t taking it well and didn’t respond much to anyone. I don’t think we’d been there for long before Bilbo came into my room, climbed onto the bed and poked me with a book, demanding I read to her. She wound up hitting me with it when I refused.”

 

“I was three,” she protested, blushing when Sherlock laughed at the tale. “All I knew was that Mama and Papa had said I needed to help them smile.”

 

“By hitting me with a book?”

 

The Union Jack pillow went sailing across the room, hitting the laughing John in the face. The taller male shook his head slightly, realizing that the keen eye and marksmanship was another trait handed down in the Watson family.

 

To Sherlock’s surprise, he rather enjoyed sharing the meal with their guest. Usually, he preferred eating with John whenever he did eat but Wilhelmina Watson was witty and kind, interested in the stories of his old cases and often coming up with comments that showed a very intelligent mind. There was something about her that was familiar in a way, but he was unable to determine what it was.

 

Once she had departed for the night, carrying her leftovers and biding them both a pleasant evening, the detective turned to find his friend watching him.

 

“What do you think?”

 

“She’s uncommonly clever,” he shared, sipping his drink. “It’s obvious she favors you a great deal in appearance and intelligence. I do believe she’s gone through something that has marked her deeply. She hides it rather well so I would have to observe her further to try to determine what it is that has had such an effect on her.”

 

“Bilbo isn’t as bright as she used to be,” John murmured, taking a slow sip of his beer. “She used to be incandescent around people. The recent loss of her dad didn’t help, but I noticed it in her letters during my time overseas. She always wrote twice a week, never missing at all, but her letters went from her usual bright tones to something darker. I never could get her to answer me when I asked what was wrong, and she still hasn’t spoken of it.”

 

“Has she told anything to your sister?”

 

“She rarely talks to Harry anymore and avoids her more than I do,” he sighed. “Harry went off on her for being selfish when Bilbo started her own business, putting what funds she had into that instead of helping Harry with something she wanted. One of the times Bilbo called me while I was stationed overseas, it’d been after that fight and she’d been incredibly upset. I told her she was doing the right thing since she has a great deal of talent and this business was something she’d been wanting for a long time. So I suggested she ignore Harry whenever possible.”

 

“Your cousin is closer to you than your own sister,” Sherlock observed.

 

“She is,” the physician agreed. “I never saw her as a cousin, just another sister. I connected to her fairly quickly when we moved to my aunt and uncle’s home; it was like I had known her for years.”

 

“Something familiar even if you don’t know what it is exactly,” the genius stated.

 

“Exactly,” John exclaimed. “I never questioned it; we just gravitated towards each other. She never let me slip away when I went to university, and she didn’t argue with me when I enlisted. Bilbo said I needed to have my adventures and do the right thing. The only thing she asked was that I made sure to take care of myself too while taking care of others.”

 

“Where did the name Bilbo come from,” he asked, setting his empty glass down. “I can somewhat understand Bill as a nickname for Wilhelmina but not Bilbo.”

 

“We’d been living at our aunt’s for about half a year, and she had been pouting because she didn’t like the nickname one of our aunt’s family members tried to foist on her. Willy didn’t suit, and she hated it with a passion. She was upset, hiding in a corner, so I went after her and tried to cuddle her out of her bad mood. I knew Bill was another nickname for William, which somewhat applied to her name, and for some reason, the name Bilbo slipped out. To this day, I don’t know why but it suited her so we kept it.”

 

“It certainly is unusual,” Sherlock commented, frowning a bit. “Familiar too but I’m not certain why. It’s a not a name I have come across over the years.”

 

“Same,” he agreed. “It suited her, and she loved it from the first time I mentioned it. Everyone picked up on it rather quickly, and it was rare to hear her full name while we were growing up.”

 

“I am sure we will discover why it seems so familiar in time,” the detective said, still frowning. “As well as why I had a feeling I had met her before when I know I have not.”

 

“At least it isn’t just me,” John sighed. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do to find out what it is that has my cousin under such a shadow. I’d rather have her back to her usual self; I don’t like seeing her like this.”

 

“It will reveal itself in time,” Sherlock stated, knowing he would be watching for clues to that as well.

 

“You won’t mind if she spends time up here whenever shes not working?”

 

“I find her presence similar to yours,” he answered. “She’s welcome in 221B.”

 

John’s smile turned into laughter as his friend continued.

 

“At least one of us has a family member that’s tolerable,” the genius grumbled, picking up his mobile and hiding the smile at the laughter that came from his friend.

 

Author’s End Note – I hope you all enjoyed the first installment! Please let me know what you thought of it. I’m not sure what the length of this story will be; it’ll be a mystery and romance so it should be fun. See everyone next time! ~ Laran



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