Chapter Text
Twenty years had past after The Battle of Five Armies. The dwarfs of Erebor had long reclaimed their homeland. In that time the line of Durin had time to heal from their deathly wounds, giving them the strength that was needed to rebuild what had been destroyed and left to ruin from the desolation of Smaug.
More importantly, it had been twenty odd years since Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, had returned to the Shire.
The hobbit had returned to the Shire not long after the battle, while Thorin Oakenshield and his two nephews fell into a deep slumber, a coma the Elves had called it. The new King Under the Moutain, was the last to wake from the three. In that time Dís and Fíli were busy attempting to restore what they could in the Mountain. The dwarfs on the other hand had wished to see their King reclaim his seat as their rightful king. Though it had taken long for him long to wake. Even longer to fully recover from his wounds enough to return to the throne. By some blessing, Mahal had ensured he had enough strength to do just that.
When Thorin had first awaken, his first request was to see Bilbo. He had vaguely remembered speaking with him upon Raven Hill, in the moments he had believed would be his last. He asked for forgiveness, wished for his dear friend to return to his home in the Shire where he could rest and return to the life he was accustomed to. It was to his dissimay that he learned he had done just that. Balin was beside him when he had awoken, and rested his hand upon his shoulder as he told him, “He has returned home, laddie.” the old adviser offered him a sad smile as he did so.
He would not deny how his once heart of stone shattered upon hearing the news. Then again what should he have expected? The hobbit had owed him nothing more, Thorin had done nothing but cast cruel judgement upon him. The hurt of exiling the burglar must have been to much to bear, he made Bilbo feel unwelcomed many times, nearly throwing him from the ramparts in his madness. If it were not for the wizard he might have done just that. He was cruel, ungrateful, and madness had consumed him.
Erebor wasn’t his home, he was no dwarf, more importantly he had no further obligations to the company.
The shame of knowing he had made Master Baggins feel so unwelcomed, became to great for him to bare. It wasn’t long before Thorin had buried himself in his duties as King. There was much to be done as it was. Restoriations to get in order, treaties for food and supplies to be made. Yet, there was no amount of work that kept Bilbo from his mind. His heart shattered and shamed by his cruelty.
The relationship Thorin once had with their Burglar had been left on the battlefield. Though, that hadn’t stopped the company from writing to Bilbo, reserving relationships of their own alive. The company often kept Bilbo well informed of the ongoing restoration of the mountain, along with the recovery of the Princes and Thorin. Thorin could not deny his envy of their relationships with the Hobbit, still, he was aware he was to blame for the loss of connection between himself and the hobbit.
Thorin never wrote. He simply had not known what to say. Many nights he sat with a quill in his trembling hand, wishing to beg for forgiveness to welcome him back to the Moutain with open arms and shower him with the praise he deserved by helping the dwarves of Erebor reclaim their. He wished to say something- anything for that matter.
But he could never truly find the words.
In the end, the king continued to stay in this ignorant state. Ignoring his feelings and longing for Bilbos return. Instead he chose to drown himself in the many aspects of restoring their home, making his way from meeting to meeting, signing papers, reading documents, overseeing the mountains progress, preparing Fíli for his role as future King. The old warrior had kept himself busy as often as he could, distracting himself from his longing thoughts as often as one could.
It was often that the dwarves made suggestions of him finding a consort to rule beside him. Several dwarves desperately tried to pair them with their kin, all of which he had refused. Afterall, he had already a heir to the throne. One he was sure would not disappoint their subjects. Besides, he knew who his One was. It may have taken him some time during their journey together toward the mountain to realize this but he knew Bilbo Baggins of the Shire was his only true love. A love he had tarnished with his foolishness and desire for gold.
Knowing the kingdom was desperate for a royal wedding, he graciously gave his blessing for Kíli to marry the she-elf he’d fallen in love with over the journey, Tauriel. It was the talk of the kingdom for many months before and after the wedding. Many disturbed by the coupling but not long after the citizens of Erebor had come to peace with the matter. Thorin was sure to inform his subjects about the aid she had provided them all along with her efforts to save Kíli, many times from death. They had no choice but to honor her for her services and will to protect the line of Durin.
After some time, Erebor became peaceful with many content with resuming their work beneath the Mountain. Restoring the mines to their former glory, working alongside Bard the Dragon Slayer in the city of Dale to resume trade, increasing the popularity and prosperity that had once existed many long years ago. Yet none of this eased the ache withing Thorins chest. He longed for his One, for Bilbo.
The Company wasn’t blind to their leaders' heart ache, they did their best to not bring up their burglar when the King was around. Still curious and unknowing nature of children did not hesitate to ask for stories of the mysterious burglar who had helped to reclaim their now prosperous home land. This often brought him a bittersweet feeling to retell the many heroic moments their Hobbit had partaken in. These moments at times, made him feel as though a part of Bilbo still remained in the mountain. If only he hadn’t been so cruel, Bilbo might still have remained with the company, with him.
On a rare occasion, he would ask about Bilbo upon noticing a member of the company received a letter, he had found many things in Bilbo's life were back to normal for the hobbit. BIlbo boasted about his prize winning tomatoes, mentioning the quarrels that came about with his cousins here and there. He informed them that his acorn tree he had once picked up from Beorn´s garden was now growing big and strong, often leaving acorns everywhere. Which seemed to annoy him to no end. Though they were effective for slingshots, mainly used by the little faunts who wished to cause trouble. Especially for his adopted cousin, which he would call his nephew more often than not.
He would continue to ask until one day he recieved a wary look from Balin, “I believe it is time you asked him yourself my king, 20 years is too long for you to have waited.”
Still the thought of writing their hobbit scared him.
He spent many nights wondering what to write, a month went by before he finally sat down with the intentions to write a letter.
Dear Master Baggins,
Maybe that was too formal? Not formal enough?
Dear Master Burglar,
Definitely not. He could imagine the scowl upon Bilbo's face and the rolling of his eyes when he read it. Maybe the hobbit would scoff or chuckle at it, as he often did before.
Dear Hero of Erebor,
It wasn’t as though he was inviting him to an award ceremony, that wasn’t proper in the slightest. So Thorin sat a while longer, then poured a glass of tea, and scowled at the paper as if that alone would put down all the right words for him.
Thorin sighed and shrugged off his coat, he would be simple about this letter. If Bilbo decided to write him back, Thorin would possibly be bold enough to ask for Bilbo to visit, to see Erebor in all its glory.
Dear Bilbo Baggins,
It was friendly, he hoped Bilbo would see it as something calm and inviting, it held no anger or resentment for his choice of absence. Perhaps, it would show Bilbo there was a little bit of that friendliness in him after all. That he wasn’t as bad as Bilbo thought him to be, that he was no longer suffering from gold sickness. Thorin had hopped it showed he’d changed.
Maybe, just maybe.
A whole two months passed and no letter returned. But neither had any of the others letters been returned, their ravens on the other hand had returned. This made the company worried.
“Perhaps something has happened?”
“Maybe he is sick?”
“Relax he is probably busy,”
“Yes, but we have sent him a handful of letters,”
“He does have a boy now, maybe the boy is sick?”
“Or worse!”
The company threw ideas around at the dinner table, while Thorin kept his ideas to himself, feeling as though, the hobbit didn’t write because of Thorin. Maybe he was mad with the Company for letting him write. He asked Bilbo about his life, including questions using information he’d gathered from the company. What if, Bilbo thought it was an invasion of privacy and was upset? Dark thoughts brewed in his mind.
Another week went by and nothing from their burglar. Many of the Company, had felt so worried that they were preparing to travel to the Shire, in search for answers. But their plans were quickly halted upon a small piece of the Shire arriving at their gate.
At this time, Thorin had been in the throne room, having to listen to the monthly disputes between various dwarfs regrding family disputes, issues in the mines, accusing other dwarfs of plagerising their work, all sorts of odd issues that the King could easily put an end to while other stubborn dwarfs rather argue to the death or fight it out.
It was a much more civilized approach to bring such disputes before the King, Thorin had remembered the many times his granfather was required to attend such things.
He was listening to two dwarrowdams argue about who had copied whose stitchings on their dresses, when Gimli, son of Gloín, rushed in.
“Your Majesty! I bring urgent news from the gates, pardon the interruption!” He stopped to take a deep breath. He gave the two dams who were in a heated debate a polite nod but waited for the King to let him continue. Thorin sat straighter in his chair and nodded, “Continue,” he said his body tense.
“Of course, my King. Your majesty, there are two hobbits at the gate. A lass and smaller hobbit.¨ Gimili explained standing at attention before the King, “They have come seeing Asylum.“ Members of the company who had been apart of the meeting stood there in stunned silence.
Finding his voice Thorin spoke, “Asylum?” he turned his shocked gaze towards Balin,“The meeting will have to continue another day, bring them here,” he dismissed the room quickly his eyes falling toward, Gimli. The young dwarf guard nodded towards the king before rushing out.
“Could it be Bilbo?” Throin asked once the room had emptied, “I do not know,” Balin answered truthfully. ¨Dwalin, quickly as you can, gather the company to the throne room,” Dwalin did as he was requested, it took a fair amount of time but the company quickly gathered. They awaited anxiously for what they had hoped would be their hobbit.
Though as it turned out, it wasn’t their hobbit at all.
Two small hobbits made their way towards the throne. Following closely behind was the elf Legolas, and a ranger. Legolas gave Gimili a small smile as he led them to stop before the king. One of the halflings was a small boy, with black hair a smarkling blue eyes. The lass that accompanied him was slightly olde than he, perhaps 20 years old or so. She stood tall before the dwarves of Erebor. With her shoulders straight and her chin high. Though she seemed young she held herself in a mature manner. Taking a moment to hand the small boy to the ranger in the group. Before she settled her eyes on the King and speaking.
“My name is Karin Baggins, from the Shire, I come with my cousin Frodo Baggins in search of asylum and aid from the mighty dwarves of Erebor.” She bowed before Thorin.