now I really want Sherlock Holmes Hobbit AU
spin off of all the little interesting non-sensationalist crimes
the blue carbuncle
the red-headed league
Holmes is that eccentric down the lane who almost never leaves his hole and gets odd visitors at all hours
rumor says he's descended from that one branch of the Baggins back when the Troubles happened but there's no evidence for it
Watson is his third cousin twice removed who is sharing the hole after a series of misadventures abroad in his youth
which only compounds the reputation ofc
Watson filled in for the local doctor when he retired and after an initial period of suspicion, has become quite popular in the neighborhood. The other hobbits try to pry gossip about Sherlock from him, to no avail.
Watson has developed An Understanding with a young hobbit lady but neither of them are in any particular hurry to progress the relationship.
Holmes spends his time smoking a pipe in a thoroughly disreputable dressing gown and solving problems people don't want aired about the Shire
Darbin Boffers from across the creek comes into Watson's practice one day for some rather serious injuries and a claim that someone "tried to kill me he did, waving a pitchfork around stabbing at me like I'm nawt but a bale of hay myself!"
Watson tells Holmes about it over supper, who tells him in absolute disinterest that it was just Farmer Packford chasing what he thought was a bandit thief out of his fields when Darbin went the wrong way around back from the pub.
This is very excellent please continue
"Farmer Packford!" I exclaimed. "But he wouldn't hurt a fly!"
"And he didn't." Sherlock didn't even look up, although his disinterest seemed to extend to Mrs. Hudson's delicious beef stew and biscuits. I have never known a hobbit who expressed so little enthusiasm over a meal, and I should never expect to do so again. "He never touched Darbin Boffers at all."
"Then how do you explain his injuries?"
He tutted. "Surely *you* heard about the brawl at the pub last night."
Mrs. Hudson, by the by, is their neighbor, a kind-hearted and pragmatic widow whose children have both moved to far corners of the Shire and who has taken to mothering after Sherlock, who she says "hasn't got the appetite of a finicky cat, if I weren't about he'd right starve".
She and Watson team up against Holmes to make sure he does things like wash his dressing gown and drink enough water and get some fresh air a few times a week. Holmes complains but secretly appreciates it.
Meanwhile, Watson comes in for breakfast one morning and finds Holmes coming in from *outside*, all bright-eyed excitement and lack of sleep. Watson inquires as to what is going on, obvious, and if Holmes has been up all night.
"It's the right hoof!"
"The right hoof," Sherlock repeats impatiently. "Bessie's right hoof. It's the key to the whole mystery."
@InspectorCaracal This would be glorious!
@InspectorCaracal This is extremely Hobbit and also extremely Sherlock. <3
@InspectorCaracal I’m tempted to mix in some James Herriot for additional flavor. All these eccentric farmers and their livestock problems. Not the part where he briefly gets mixed up in WWII, though.
@zwol !! Yes good
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