Chapter Text
I never knew my Uncle Bilbo, Mama and Papa would talk about him sometimes. Never in public's eye and always in the cover of dark with their roof over their head. He was different, someone I could respect. But they say he left chasing dwarves and his dream, and Lobelia would look at me and ask some time after Mama and Papa died.
"Do you want to be another Mad Baggins? You have two good legs, get up and keep walking."
And I did.
-Found from the private journals of Head of the Baggins Clan, Frodo Baggins CIRCA T.A.
~.~.~.
William was given a wide berth ... again. He didn't mind that some were ignoring them of their own volition but he was pissed that Dís would call Líska away from him. The younger princess also looked angered but her loyalty demanded that she join her leader (and mother-in-law)'s side. It hurt that he was being shunned so badly, but he was stronger than that.
He had been hated before, and he would live through it again.
His only companion for a couple of days was Gandalf, the older man was happy to talk with William about literature or history. In that small time the hobbit had learned all about the different lost cultures and the various dialects of men that had disappeared from the planet. The ways of life that he had been told of about hobbits were gone and the benevolent people had twisted just as the other races did.
Of how his people were forced to evolve and mechanize in order to have a pace in the world.
Then William was told the story of Belladonna Took, one that supposedly was passed down in Gandalf's lineage.
"The man whom I am named after was said to be a wizard, my great something grandfather was wandering down into the rolling hills of the Shire. A country of sorts in its own back then, filled with xenophobic people. Good people, that were afraid of the world around them. So they were anxious around my relative, filled with a twisted excitement when he came strolling down the Shire's lanes.
A wee lass that was filled out the only way a woman could be was only as tall as his waste line. The one thing he said to the favorite daughter of the then Old Took was the only person willing to see the world for its beauty. I - I remember that he was ill prepared to take a hobbit lass on a journey, her eagerness was outweighed by the love she had for a man named Bungo Baggins. Your many great grandfathers away dear William," the man winked as he stopped to drink water from a hip flask.
Or William thought it was water.
"This Bella was desperately in love with the world and a man. She chose the man but Bungo let her explore to her heart's delight. So she left the comforts of her home to go have an adventure.
Oh, the way mother described it was beautiful. A blossoming friendship between an old wizard and a hobbit, oh William they went everywhere they could within reason. From Rivendell to Gondor, they came and went trading both time and resources to those that had neither. However things went sideways on the way back to the Shire."
He stopped for a second to take a drag from a cigar and to wipe away a tear from his eye, or William thought he did, before composing himself to tell the rest of the tale. His attentive audience of one listening very closely for this piece of his ancestry. "Go on," William prompted when Gandalf refused to keep talking.
"Ah yes, Belladonna had been scouting the area before resting for the night as the wizard instructed her to. Never once did she think that there could be something in the woods watching her. While the wizard went to secure food for the two of them, Belladonna had been brutally attack by wargs-"
"Wargs don't exist anymore Gandalf, they evolved into the creatures know as canis latrans. Or rather coyotes, it seems as if they got the better end of evolution when comparing them to old drawings of wargs."
When William looked back at Gandalf he grew sheepish that the man had raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask if he could get on with his tale. "Anyways, she was able to fend for herself for a while. Only a while, she was too used to the wizard to help her and eventually her own strength failed her. Belladonna fell by the time that the wizard got to her.
Belladonna lived, only since the elves from Rivendell happened upon her and the wizard during their hunt of the orcs. She, like all things, recovered in time but it was believed that she would never be the same. So I - I believe that the wizard returned her to the Shire and left, coming back twice in the Third Age. Once when she was a young mother with a child of only five years, and then when that same child was in his fifties. One was for a party and the other was for an adventure.
And just like mother, the son went along with the wizard. But unlike his mother, he never returned to the Shire and his remains lay in the East to this day."
The old man took a drag from his pipe as William took in all of this, "His name."
"Hmm?"
"What was the child's name?"
Gandalf hummed in concentration for a second before opening his mouth, "Bilbo Baggins was his name." William could only let his jaw drop before Gandalf gave him a pat on the back before pushing his horse into a trot to catch up to Dís. The hobbit's soul felt the longing it felt at the mention of Belladonna Took's story; it felt as if it were his mother that he had just heard about.
But his own mother was buried in the Under-hill Cemetery, while Belladonna Took was most likely returned to the Green Lady's Earth in the long years after her death. For William, it's helping him in a weird sort of way; because the more he was getting exposed to the idea of being Bilbo the more he felt whole. It was as if he was an amnesiac that was coming to terms with his new identity and the old one he had.
The shock wore off and William allowed himself to truly think about his own life.
He had loved his own mother dearly but her end was just as gruesome as the old Took woman's had been, leaving him to wonder about the parallels between the two. "Ah! Master Baggins!", and William turned to see both Kori and Hjalli waving him over. With a nod to Gandalf he steered Jessamine over to the couple, a little wary because he had been called over after days of silence.
Kori smiled at the hobbit brightly, something that William had never been victim to. She smiled and smiled before opening her mouth, "So I've heard from a little birdie that you are a fan of ancient literatures. Am I correct Master Baggins?"
The hesitation in his eyes concerned Hjalli, who stayed silent, as William answered his wife, "Yes, and if I may Mistress Kori it is William. Master Baggins was my father, but yes. I do enjoy good literature."
He smiled briefly when Kori began to bounce slightly on her stead, "Well, in my home I was able to procure various copies of tomes from the Third Age. As in the actual journal from the Journey to Erebor."
"How? There is only one authentic copy left!" he gasped in astonishment.
"Exactly, completed with drawings and some water damage from the High Pass."
The brunette was more than happy to talk to a willing participant about her son's writings, or rather a person that didn't hear her praises for the last three Ages. It was refreshing to see someone interested in her sons. Her husband was beaming as well as his horse threw its head back, the hair catching him in the mouth. Though he looked sheepish to William, he was reeling in disgust.
Animal parts were not that receptive to his tastes, in fact it was all he could do to keep from gagging. It was repulsive but he laughed it off with William as to not alarm him. He didn't want to out himself this early in front of him, but eventually he'll be wary of the fact that none of them will be eating.
"Bad horse," he called out only for it to smack his head back again.
Hjalli glared at the beast as it shifted uneasily beneath him, "Oh what I would give for a car. A nice car, one that doesn't breathe or have hair." Oh, a three day car trip from the Shire Providence to the edge of Eriador to the Eastern Kingdoms and Municipalities would be ideal. Though, Dís was a stickler for tradition and even got Thorin's backing for it.
The King hoping that the reincarnation would like them well enough by the time they got to Erebor after a couple months, then BAM! shit would be better for them all. Hjalli had to give it to him though, it was a nice and peaky plan. Even better then his plan to prank Villi all that time ago, which ended up with Thorin chasing Kíli as a babe. Running down the paths in Ered Luin. Nude.
"Me too Hjalli, if we could I'd have us rent some cars then travel over the High Pass on the International Highway. Besides, I was given a letter from Prince Kíli before I left for Bree. Hell I even called him, and I was told that we were to ride in cars until we got to Rivendell," William murmured as Jessamine stopped to nibble at some tall grass.
"I guess that it was sort of bait. We all knew that we would be on horses the entire time."
Kori watched as the hobbit shook his head, "I'm not that surprised William, and I don't think you are either."
"I'm sort of used to new stipulations and secrets, not that much of a surprise to me now. There's even somethings I know of you lot that I wish I didn't."
"Oh?" and Hjalli leaned forward slightly, both nervous and excited.
William nodded, "I never saw it at the time, I was too focused on my own being to care what she was saying. Dís, I mean. She kept telling me about her brother, and how I knew him in my last life." He took in a breath as the married couple nodded in confirmation. "And when I was younger I did my own research on my ancestry, you know. Bilbo Baggins was the second owner of my ancestral home Bag End, and he died in the late Third Age. If she knew Bilbo, then she would be practically immortal now."
The brunette was silent as was Hjalli and William took this as his chance to keep talking, "And some asshole left coagulated blood in a cup on my table. I assume that someone was drinking it."
"Go on," Kori encouraged the hobbit, "Just tell us what you're thinking William."
"At the very least, Dís is some kind of immortal vampire and some of this company might be as well."
" ... " Hjalli was in a stump, "Well shit, observant little shit are you?" Then he broke out into a smile and steered his horse closer to William; throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Got a smart noggin dontcha? Well, lets just say that me 'n Kori aren't that different from Dís, since she had been born in Erebor and we weren't," he whispered as the other dwarves in front of them started to laugh uncontrollably. "And if you ask me, these asshats just don't like you for the same reason as Dís. But as her brother-in-law I have a leg up in what can go and what can stay."
William shoved Hjalli's arm off his shoulders and tried not to let his grimace out.
"Besides," Hjalli said as he pulled out a hip flask and took a swig, "I don't drink alcohol and neither does she."
Over Hjalli's shoulder Kori gave him a smile and licked the red from her teeth.
Despite this William has never felt safer.
~.~.~.
"SHIT!"
"That's mine fucker! Give it back!"
"No! You had a separate tumbler for this one! Unfair!"
"Kíli! Give it back!"
A lone figure sat on his throne as his nephews bickered around him, just after the last of the court left the room. Despite their old age both Fíli and Kíli still acted like the dwarves he had brought on his quest to Erebor all that time ago. He was glad that their wisdom and ... affliction could be tempered by their very nature.
Thorin Oakenshield had lasted longer then he had wanted in the world, as had many others in the Eastern Kingdoms and Municipalities. Hell, anyone west of Rhûn and east of Eriador had unusually long life spans. Not a single bloodline was passed from the Eastern K & M's since late Third Age and early Fourth Age.
It made them an anomaly, something to be studied as time passed.
Being the opportunist that he was, whenever Gimli or Bombur's twins sent word of a new study being conducted anywhere in the Eastern K & Ms there was always a scouting party sent out by him. He sought to secure food for those in Erebor that were unable to or unwilling to procure their own. In fact the last fresh food supply had been taken by the Men of Dale, and it meant that the Feeding Roster had to have more names added.
The Company of Thorin Oakenshield were always the last to be fed as far as the public access was concerned, but their family and friends were sneaky when it came to feeding the original Aggressors. Dís and Líska were able to keep the Durin males sane, were as Fundin's sons were left to their Hunger. The Ri Family was in their own sort of madness and fuck if the Ur Family didn't know how to change a shit situation into a better one.
But, as Fíli and Kíli spend their own shares of the Treasure, when Dís and Líska were gone, they tried to keep illegally procured blood from coagulating. For the most part they did it, but they had trouble rationing the amount they had with their Hunger. Kíli would drink all of his and take some of Fíli's flasks from their joint (well Fíli got another for himself) tumbler.
"Boys," and both glared when he reached his hand out for the flask, but they gave it to him. He opened the top and took a swig before paling, "It may have sat for too long, have fun with your jelly." Outraged Fíli stole the metal back and groaned when he shook it slightly.
The blood had turned to the consistency of the cottage cheese he had once upon a time in Bilbo's home.
Thorin pushed the crown on his head so it was centered and looked at his nephews, "Come, let's return home." As they began the walk from the Throne, panels and panels of mirrors overhead began to retract on themselves. Dimming the light used from the bright Arkenstone, the retreating mirrors had caused the Throne Room to darken slowly as the Arkenstone's light wasn't being refracted any more.
The Inner Palace was the most traditional part of the Kingdom, it used the light from small openings in the mounted side in the multitude of reflections. Spreading the light until it became dim, but still lit enough for dwarves and men to navigate through. This was the mountain that Thorin loved from his childhood, the one that kept him from giving up during his Journey.
Gold veins spread across the polished stone, as the gold running through his mind.
Not tangible, anymore at the least, but the beautiful spun gold of his brother's hair. Even that of Bilbo's when the light hit it just right, that was the sickness he had been plagues with for so long. After the treasure hoard lost its appeal Thorin had come to covet the gold that he could never hold again. Or at least the one that he thought he would never see again.
But, as time went on and technology advanced farther and faster then he had ever seen, he came to see the gold again.
Halina had become infatuated with the idea of instant portraits and, as a gift to Bombur, left Erebor for a year to go and photograph the world for him to see once more. In a picture from Lothlórien, at the funeral pyre of a little elfling that met her end too early was the body of said child. With the gold spun locks of his beloved.
Then Líska had seen the likeness of Bilbo Baggins when she was traveling past Rhûn. A man with a family, a human with most of Rhûn under his thumb, but kind when interacting with the princess. Allowing for the peaceful interaction leading to the first time electricity being introduced to the Eastern K + M. When he had died it had been many years before another Golden One to appear.
The reincarnations were spread throughout the world, but never once did they appear in the East.
None of them were like Bilbo, not until Gimli had told him about William Baggins.
So, he had spent his time making sure that his Kingdom was ready for him. The modern amenities that William would be used to were not there necessarily, Erebor had no outlets in the Inner Palace. The phone lines were abundant, however, they were limited by the simple fact that there was no way to get wireless connection throughout the inside of Erebor. Dale and Esgaroth were fine in those terms, but he refused to defile the sanctity of the mountain in that way.
Thorin did know that the ancient plumbing system that Dain had helped to fix before he was cursed as well still held up. And the heat from the High Forges and the Lower Forges kept the majority of the mountain warm in the winter, before the sub-surface vents were covered again as summer started and the surface vents were opened.
It was ancient and traditional, not modern but it worked for the dwarves of Erebor.
He loved his mountain, but he hated that he couldn't leave the land it was in.
"I wonder how Líska's doing, she has trouble using those cellular phones no matter what Gimli does."
"She's got a good head on her Fíli, better than most."
The two princes chatted aimlessly as a page came running down the hall, "Prince Kíli, the Liaison Tauriel requests your presence in the Royal Meeting Rooms. She has some news regarding the Golden One." That caught Thorin's attention immediately, but instead of rushing to the meeting rooms he kept walking away from the page.
Kíli was already moving from his brother and Uncle to the Meeting Room as the two kept going to Thorin's private rooms.
"She still won't talk to you Uncle. How long has it been?" Fíli asked, "About three- no four hundred years?"
"Yes, I don't see the problem truly. It was just one caravan, hardly overflowing. It smelt very much like troll, so we did her a favor."
"Uncle... you stole the kill right from under her nose."
"Just like her I have a people to feed."
Fíli rolled his eyes, "It was her five thousandth birthday." And Thorin was being a shit head and just smirked at him, and shrugged his shoulders as if to ask 'And should I care?'. "How am I going to put up with you?" Fíli asked.
"I think its the other way around inúdoy."
The blonde ran a hand through his braided mustache, the same he had in his youth, and walked on with his uncle. They passed the Consort's rooms without much fanfare, although Fíli knew that the room was aired and changed weekly. Lovingly kept modernized for the Golden One, for Bilbo or whomever he may be now.
It was heartbreaking to him, to watch his beloved uncle go insane from the years of longing.
While he had his own love, both Kíli and Thorin were struggling to find their own. His mother was a widow and there were some in the Company that never found their own love, much less thought about it.
"Of course uncle. Wouldn't have it any other way."
But they both know that they would have.
~.~.~.
He was tired, cold, and hungry; but there had been reports of Bard's son skulking around Mirkwood waiting. For what he had no clue, but the messenger ravens seen flying from the Misty Mountains gave some inclinations of what may be happening.
His father had grown tired of wondering and sent Tauriel to Erebor to try and get some insider information from the younger Prince. While she was being taken care of in a warm ass mountain he was freezing his ass off in a sniper's nest watching for the dumb kid. Bain wasn't the smartest Prince in the Eastern K + Ms, but damn this was stupid even for him.
The elves of Mirkwood were not above killing him too.
Legolas let his tired red eyes fall to the sweet receiver of his rifle and he smiled at the silver decal painted onto the green metal. The silver leaf marked that this rifle belonged to the Prince of Mirkwood, once Greenwood, and this was the one thing that he loved besides his ancient bow. That bow was made by his own unskilled hands and with his father's silvery hair as the draw string.
He watched the bushes rustle as the wind brushed through the land.
Once he knew this place as the greenest and purest place in Arda, he was named for the trees and to the trees he belonged. But the way that he lived to see his home grow sick was not the way that he wished to live. He wanted to heal his home, and to a degree he was able to.
This happened only after he had lost himself to this..affliction.
Legolas didn't care what anyone else called it: Hunger, Thirst, Vampirism. He knew it as one thing and one thing only, being a monster. The Valar were punishing them, and at the time he had been too loyal. Too greedy.
All he had wanted was to kill those dreaded orcs and get back to Mirkwood in one peace. Then he saw how the world had changed and how it needed help, but then the hobbit died. The singular hobbit east of the Misty mountains had been killed and buried in Erebor.
Of course he had been curious as to how he died but he didn't know Bilbo Baggins well enough to inquire.
Legolas was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the young human walk through the well used cobblestone path out of the Woods. He flicked the scope from the body of the gun upwards and looked through the sights. His heart slow as he fingered the trigger, eying the way that an assault rifle was held rather lazily in his hands.
The elf let his finger tighten and was satisfied to see the gun tumble from his hands as a bullet ripped through the stock of the weapon.
"Last warning Bain, go back to Dale."
Bain looked around him wildly, trying to find Legolas and finally found him when the Prince pulled away his cover and let his golden hair fall. "Why are you even here without the King's permission?" and the human glared at him. The two red eyes met the elven ones before the human looked away. Legolas let the scope fall back into the rifle and shouldered it.
"Come on Bain, this is the fifth time in the last three months."
"Tilda's getting restless again, she wants something. Anything to quench her thirst, and I want to help her."
Legolas smiled at the thought of the teenage looking Tilda, and groaned when he realized what Bain was doing. "The blood of the animals in the forest are not meant for consumption. We all know that. Bain, is there anyway for new blood to be expected?" He knew what he was asking and he knew that Bain understood what was being asked.
"Well..."
"Bain."
The human finally cracked, "I heard that Dís was going to bring new blood to the mountain, and I wanted to be the one to get it first."
No, she couldn't be going to take people from Eriador or Gondor. No one in the Eastern K + Ms could handle the isolation if word got back through to the authorities in the other kingdoms. If they suspected that there were people being taken from the countries then the borders would be closed until they all offered what others considered a "terrorist group" up as an explanation for the unexplained absences.
When in actuality it was the lowest vagrants they could find, a wandering group of Ironhill dwarves or Esgaroth criminals. But it would be too suspicious to send away elves or men of Dale. Some of the 'nicest' races in the east.
"Bain, you know the rules. No poaching on foreign land."
He had the gall to look ashamed before spluttering out, "Well Tilda's loosing it! She nearly killed Grima for 'just a taste Bain, don't tell Da'. What am I supposed to do Legolas? Leave her be?"
"No, you wait for new blood to show up in Dale."
"That could take months! Years even!"
The Prince sighed, "We've lasted decades, it hasn't bothered you before."
"I can't take much more of this! I'm just glad that this never happened to Sigrid."
Both pairs of red eyes locked onto each other and Legolas gave him a tired smile, "Me too Bain, me too."
Little did they know salvation was on the way, a little lost due to someone but on the way. If they didn't kill him first that is.
~.~.~.
He lingered in the back of the poor hobbit's mind and flinched at the thought of going back to Erebor, but it wasn't him. Not really at least.
There would be pain for William and for that he could only apologize.
"I'm so sorry, please run away. Before they devour your heart too."
But there was no one to hear Bilbo plead, not even William. He wanted so bad to forgive them, to take all their pain back. Though he knew that deep down he held no forgiveness in his soul for them.
No matter how hard he tried.