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Chapter Text

Bag End was the finest Hobbit smial to have ever been built, not only in Hobbiton but in the whole Shire. It was a large, comfortable home, with spacious corridors, many rooms, and luxuries such as windows and plumbing. The smial was greatly admired by all hobbits, though it also became a point of envy to many, as well as a source of pride for the one who constructed it, Bungo Baggins.

Bungo, the heir to the esteemed and rather rich Baggins family, gifted Bag End to his wife, Belladonna Took, the “remarkable daughter” of Gretonius Took, the Thain of the Shire. Belladonna was an exceptionally wild and curious spirit, known to have befriended a wandering wizard and even ventured outside the Shire in search of adventure. Her nature sat in stark opposition to her husband’s, who everyone regarded as perfectly respectable and home-dwelling, but overall unremarkable.

Indeed, Bungo and Belladonna seemed a mismatched pair. The idea of them marrying was thought to be brought about by little difference in station – and perhaps an attempt to temper Belladonna’s character with the influence Bungo’s – rather than genuine affection between the two. In truth, however, just as opposites attract, so Bungo and Belladonna were drawn to each other due to their contrasting natures. Yet, unlike complete opposites, Bungo and Belladonna turned out to have some core qualities in common: both were of bright and quick mind and enjoyed mental stimulation. These shared traits not only made their connection secure but also yielded the delight that they found in each other’s company. Soon into their courtship, the two discovered that they liked nothing better than to hold long and lively discussions during which they debated each other’s opinions and looked for ways to outwit one another, or to play a game of riddles together.

And so, against all odds, their marriage blossomed into a very happy union. After getting married, the couple lived in Tuckborough, a property owned by Belladonna’s father, but soon found the place too crowded and lacking in the privacy they desired as newlyweds. The issue became especially bothersome for Belladonna; fed up with being surrounded by nosy family members, she threatened to pack all her things and lead the life of a wanderer.

“Having a tent or even a bedroll for a home seems more appealing than living here,” she grumbled. “At least I’d be able to do whatever I want! I wouldn’t have to explain myself to anybody, how splendid would that be!”

“Then I shall build you a smial, my Bella,” Bungo told her in response. “I shall build you a smial where you’ll be the mistress and where they’ll be such comforts that you won’t want to sleep in a tent or a bedroll ever again.”

Belladonna laughed and kissed him sweetly. “I doubt the latter, my Bungo,” she said then, “But I’d dearly love to see you try.”

It seemed that Bungo took his wife’s remark as a challenge. Taking his wife’s sizeable dowry, he made very good use of it and brought Bag End into being. Belladonna received his gift with the deepest joy and did almost forget about tents and bedrolls. Admittedly, her not wanting adventures so much was in large part not due to Bag End itself but the fact that, a year after moving into their own smial, their love bore another fruit: they were blessed with a child. Belladonna, after a rather complicated pregnancy and labour, bore a healthy son, who she and her husband named Bilbo.

Bilbo was the talk of the Hobbiton and beyond since the very day he was born. Everyone wondered which parent Bilbo would take after. Would he be more of a Took or a Baggins? Would he share his mother’s love of the unexpected or his father’s dislike of it?

As a fauntling, Bilbo clearly showed to lean more toward his mother’s side, much to the disapproval of many in Hobbiton, including his own father. Bungo tried his best not to outright show it to his son, but he did argue with his wife about how she encouraged their son’s Tookish behaviour. Indeed, the issue of raising Bilbo was the most serious marriage strife they faced.

“You tell him all about adventures and elves,” Bungo said to Belladonna, one of those times he confronted her, “And then he comes back home after dawn all dirty. And that wooden sword you’ve given him! Not to mention you introduced him to Gandalf. He’ll end up hurting himself one day because of all this nonsense!”

“It’s not nonsense!” As she said this, her gaze was ablaze with deep, unshaken conviction. “It makes him happy! Can’t you see it brings him joy? How could I deny him stories of adventures when he asks for them?”

Bungo sighed heavily. “I do understand that, but be reasonable. He talks about looking for faeries all the time! Can’t you see that everyone thinks him odd? Other fauntlings won’t play with him!”

“My siblings’ little ones do!”

“And how often are they in Hobbiton? A few times a year? It’s not enough, Bella! He plays alone most of the time. He has no friends around here, and I... I just worry! A fauntling should have other fauntlings to play with!”

The last remark reopened a wound of theirs that had never fully healed. In the decade of their son’s life, there had been three times so far when they were justified in thinking that Belladonna was in the family way once more, only to have these hopes crushed. After such immense heartbreaks, they found themselves at the point of giving up trying for more children. Instead, they were left with the unbearable ache of failure to provide Bilbo with a sibling (which some of the unkind hobbits claimed to be proof of their incompatibility).

Bungo could see that his words caused his wife great pain, so he gathered her into his arms and murmured apologies and reassurances to her in a comforting tone. “I neglected to mention that our Bilbo already has a playmate in you, didn’t I?” he said. “The finest playmate any little one could ask for, indeed. The finest mother, too.”

Belladonna stayed in her husband’s embrace, letting his closeness and words soothe her, and spoke once she stepped away from his arms. “I do know your worry, Bungo. I wonder what will happen soon when he grows up and would rather have his peers for company than me, but we must have faith in him. I’m certain that he’ll have people who will love him just as much as we do.”

“I pray that you’re right,” he replied. “But I fear that love of adventure won’t endear him to many.”

“Then it will endear him to the right ones! He should never change himself just to be accepted.”

“About that, at least, I’m not worried. He seems as spirited and stubborn as you, I don’t think he’ll ever change just to bend to the wishes of others.”

“Stubborn as me?!” Belladonna exclaimed. “He gets the stubbornness from you! There’s no creature under the sun more stubbornly set in their ways than a Baggins!”

The origin of Bilbo’s stubbornness was, at least, only ever a point of good-natured bickering between his parents.

As Bilbo grew, his behaviour did change – he no longer sought out his mother, just as she had predicted. However, contrary to her assumptions, Bilbo preferred to spend time on his own rather than among his peers. He would stay inside more and more and took a lively interest in books. When he entered the age of seventeen, his father taught him reading, writing and calculations, which he all grasped in no time, and afterwards, Bilbo could only be found sitting with his books, genealogy trees and maps, or enjoying tea in the armchair by the fire together with his father. It overall seemed that his unruly Tookish spirit quietened considerably, much to the relief of his father and the dismay of his mother. It did seem Bilbo’s fate that when he did something that gained him one parent’s approval, he simultaneously displeased the other. Now, it was Belladonna who was not happy, for Bungo expressed approval at the change in Bilbo’s behaviour, but she suspected that Bilbo didn’t choose books as his most frequent companions of his own volition. Rather, she feared that it stemmed from Bilbo’s general unpopularity among his peers (although some of the children of his aunts and uncles on both sides of the family did like him). However Belladonna tried to encourage her son to go outside, he either refused or left only for a short while, set on doing solely what he wished with the stubbornness his parents loved him for.

When Bilbo began approaching adulthood, it became clear that he had taken more after his father in the end. He matured into a well-mannered lad, if a touch aloof, but his reserve did not taint his emerging spotless reputation. He was still as respectable as any hobbit should be, and was an heir not only to the esteemed Baggins name but to Bag End as well. Indeed, his standing and wealth made him a most eligible bachelor, as there was many a lass who wished to call herself Mrs. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. Bilbo himself, however, showed no interest in marital affairs; once he reached the age of thirty-three and could officially enter a courtship, he rejected all matchmaking attempts. Such dismissal was met with a lot dismay, and more than one matron swore to find Bilbo a wife. Unfortunately for them, they soon had to abandon their efforts, for a tragedy struck – Bungo Baggins passed away only in the third year of his son’s maturity. It was a very early age for a hobbit to lose a parent and Bilbo went into deep mourning together with his mother.

Bilbo and Belladonna could not come to terms with Bungo’s early death for a long time. Overcoming their grief was not made easy by the fact life went on despite their loss. Bilbo had to adjust to the new role as the head of the Baggins family and the Master of Bag End, which was a challenge for him, as his father had not yet managed to teach him many ways of his business. Belladonna, though she tried to support her son as much as she could, was so stricken with sorrow that she struggled with merely carrying on from day to day.

In the end, Belladonna never managed to heal from the grief. Year by year, her once strong spirit faded, and so did her health. She fought her progressing weakness for years, wanting to be with her son for longer and wishing to see him settle into a happy life. Bilbo always assured her that he was perfectly content but she never believed him.

"But Bilbo,” she would say, "You surely can’t be happy with having only your old mother for company! There must be someone else you like to spend time with!”

"I’ve always liked your company the most,” he would reply. One time, he then argued, "Why does there have to be someone to like anyway? Why can’t I just like myself and let it be enough for me?”

"If you like yourself, that is very good, but... you might think so only because you don’t feel like the need for companionship right now. When I’m not here anymore, are you sure you will be happy on your own?” Bilbo did not reply right away, so she said to him, "Bilbo, I promise that life is lived so much better with a friend. By that I mean a good friend, someone with whom you can talk about much more than daily affairs and the weather. Someone who you can open your heart to, someone you can grow with. It’s worth having someone like this.”

"You say that but I see you suffer because you lost papa. You suffer and you still say that.”

"Because I know what I’m saying, my dearest flower. It was worth it because he gifted me with so many good things. He gave me joy, and this smial, and you! Oh, Bilbo, I wish you to know the same happiness. I wish you to have someone who makes you smile brighter than the Sun.”

"What if there isn’t someone like that for me?”

"There is, I know it. I’ve always known it.”

Bilbo did not seem convinced but he once again reassured her that he was happy. She did not end up ever believing him. After all, his current situation could hardly be a source of joy: when he managed to reconcile with the passing of his father, it became evident that his mother would not live for long.

And so it happened that Bilbo became an orphan and the sole Master of Bag End at the age of forty-four. Grieving his mother took him a few more difficult years and once he went out of mourning at last, Bilbo was close to the age of fifty. At this point, the matchmaking matrons had written him off as a lost cause and his continued disinterest in matrimony gained him the status of a confirmed bachelor.

Belladonna did not think that her son could be happy with such a life but Bilbo did seem quite content. He lived in good relations with everybody, though he upheld few close connections, and was overall a highly respectable hobbit. It was decided that he was a Baggins to boot in the end: a hobbit who never did or said anything unexpected. The only surprise that anyone anticipated coming from him was who he would name as his heir, which would have to happen eventually.

That is why the whole Shire was flabbergasted when one day, Master Baggins showed to be more of a Took by storming out of his smial, running off and vanishing. He hadn’t written any letter to explain his sudden disappearance before or send any after leaving. Everyone could only scratch their heads and wonder what on earth had happened. There remained no explanation as to why, where, and with whom Master Baggins had left, while his absence extended from a fortnight to a month, then to many months. Eventually, as the one-year mark of his vanishing approached, it was agreed by most that Master Baggins should be presumed dead.

What emerged even before that was the question of what to do with Bag End. Master Baggins had no heir, so it was unclear who was to inherit the smial. Since all hobbits were knowledgeable about genealogy and because one could always prove relatedness to someone at some point in the past if they tried hard enough, everybody believed that they were entitled to Bag End to some extent. With so many hobbits staking their claim, the issue of Bag End’s ownership gave rise to so many bitter disputes that an extreme measure had to be taken to settle them: there was to be an auction so that all claimants could have something of Bag End to themselves.

When the eagerly-awaited day of the auction finally came, it naturally caused quite a stir. A large crowd gathered before the front door of Bag End, the shouts of the bidders could be heard in half of Hobbiton, and those who already won were carrying out their prizes happily. Then, there was another reason for a commotion: a hobbit claiming to be the deceased Bilbo Baggins appeared right then. No one could say for sure if it was Bilbo Baggins, however: the hobbit, dressed in some odd and foreign clothing, looked very different from what one would expect any hobbit to look like. Yet, when the auctioneer asked for a document that would confirm his identity, he did produce one - a contract between one Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshied.

“Who’s this person you pledged your service to?” the auctioneer asked. “Thorin Oakenshield?”

“He... ” Bilbo found himself unable to say more, for hearing the name of Thorin Oakenshield had him overwhelmed by a heartache so painful that it took away his ability to speak. When he finally regained his voice, he said little but revealed a lot, if only to himself.

“He was my friend.”

With that, Master Baggins entered Bag End. The grand smial was desolate, just like the heart of its owner.

Chapter Text

After Master Baggins’s return, Bag End was restored to its former glory. In order to achieve that, Master Baggins had to buy back most of the things that had been auctioned off, though it turned out to be no easy task. Some hobbits either just refused to give back their prizes, or only a large sum of money could persuade them, and even then, many hobbits were loath to part with the pieces of Bag End they managed to get their hands on.

Due to the fact that Master Baggins spent so much money on regaining the items that belonged to him, everyone assumed that he had acquired some unimaginable fortune. If coming back from the presumed dead hadn’t been enough to make him a subject of great curiosity, the rumours of his great wealth only fueled the speculation about his person. Everyone wondered: what on this green earth had he been doing in his absence to come into the possession of so much money, and why had he been gone for so long?

When asked about this, Master Baggins would give the oddest answers. He would speak of a great adventure, of dwarves, mountains, a dragon and hoards of treasure, as well as so many other strange things that everyone decided he must have gone mad. No one but little fauntlings believed or liked his stories, and many hobbits have ceased to hold him in high esteem due to his disrespectable adventure and beliefs, for he did talk about the trolls, orcs and dragons as though they truly existed.

Master Baggins’s reputation became greatly tainted after his return indeed. This was not only due to his adventure and beliefs alone, but also because of his changed attitude. He made no effort to improve his bad name and steadfastly ignored what other hobbits said about him. In fact, Master Baggins dismissed all gossip as well as whatever else he deemed to be “petty matters”. His adventure seemed to have uprooted all of his proper manners, instead planting the seeds of such directness that it offended the sensibilities of many in the Shire. His bluntness did not serve to win him much sympathy among fellow hobbits and thus, the number of callers on his door decreased to mainly those who had business dealings with him or Sackville-Bagginses. While the former were received with all the required cordiality and fairness, the latter were only met with closed doors.

The strangeness and lacking manners would have made Master Baggins nothing short of an outcast and a cautionary tale, if it hadn’t been for one thing: his generosity. Anyone who came to him with some struggle received advice and aid, while his business partners had no bad word to say about transactions with him. A few months after his return, master Baggins also threw a splendid birthday party and had a gift prepared for all of the numerous hobbits in attendance, even those who invited themselves. All this sealed the general belief that master Baggins was extremely rich and, since he shared his wealth easily with others (except the ones that were shamelessly greedy), his fortune came to be regarded as his most redeeming quality.

And so, in the end, Master Baggins’s oddness became mostly forgiven, if not forgotten. Hobbits would shake their heads when they saw him wandering around the Shire by himself, but they would still greet him and chat with him. If Master Baggins was not found at home for a period of time longer than that of an exerting walk, no one spared it a second thought, as it quickly became known that he often visited his relatives in Tuckborough and sometimes even Buckland. (In later years, he journeyed to Buckland more frequently because one of his cousins he was most fond of, Primula, settled there after marrying Drogo Baggins, also a cousin of his). When master Baggins was at home, he did not entertain many guests, to the displeasure of quite a few hobbits. Those to whom Bag End’s door was freely open were the Gamgees and some of master Baggins’s relatives, but then again, everyone knew that the Master of Bag End was peculiar; most hobbits could overlook his lack of interest in sociability as long as he didn’t become tight-fisted by any stretch.  

Then, in the second year after master Baggins’s return, it turned out just how peculiar he had become when he hosted dwarves in Bag End, more than once! This naturally stirred up quite an uproar, for it was believed to be unseemly that a hobbit would rather welcome dwarves into his smial than those of his own kind. Master Baggins was completely unconcerned with the scandal he had caused, only replying to his critiques that it would have been more unseemly for him not to have welcomed those dwarves, as they were his good friends.

The friends in question were fellow members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, with whom Bilbo had gone on the Quest of Erebor. The first to visit him were Glóin and Bombur, together with his brothers Bofur and Bifur, who all were making a journey back to the Blue Mountains in order to bring their families to the Lonely Mountain safely. Bilbo happily hosted them on their way to as well as back from Ered Luin, more than glad to have Bag End filled with the sounds of voices and feet that were not only his own.

The next year, another member of the Company visited Bag End. It was Balin, who travelled to the Blue Mountains to carry out some orders in the name of King Thorin. Bilbo enjoyed hosting Balin as much as his previous guests. While the stay of Glóin, Bombur and their families was a merry occasion full of laughter, singing and stories, Balin and Bilbo reminisced more while enjoying a quiet smoke. From Balin, Bilbo was also able to learn in more detail about how Erebor fared, as well as about the well-being of the King and the two princes, and hearing only good news brought him great relief.

Both times when Bilbo’s guests were about to depart, they urged him to visit Erebor again, assuring him that he would be welcomed as a hero. Although Bilbo was delighted at the invitations both times, he made no promise as to when exactly he would come to the Lonely Mountain again. He did not know whether his friends knew why he parted on bad terms with the King or were aware of it at all. He definitely did not want to discuss it, so he did his best not to let his reluctance show, instead making sure to express his joy at having been invited.

No other dwarves visited him in the same year as Balin, nor in the next one. Bilbo would probably have felt this lack of dwarven guests more acutely if it had not been for the fact that he managed to make new dwarf friends.

The way that came about was that, in the year following Balin’s visit, Bilbo chipped an old kitchen knife. He decided to buy a new one instead of fixing the old one, as it was too well-used for his liking. On the nearest market day in Hobbiton, two dwarven metalsmiths - a bladesmith and a brownsmith - just happened to sell their wares, and Bilbo did not hesitate for a moment to approach the stall the two put up together. The bladesmith introduced himself as Seis, and the brownsmith together with him introduced himself as Darl.

When Bilbo gave them his name in return, Seis said, “Bilbo Baggins? I’ve heard your name before, master hobbit!”

“Have you?” Bilbo said. “Have other hobbits mentioned me to you?”

“No. I’ve heard your name from stories of the quest of Erebor! You’re the Burglar who faced the dragon and defended the King and the princes in the battle!”

A blush coloured Bilbo’s cheeks. ‘Yes,” he said. “That was me.”

Seis could not have been more enthusiastic in his response. He bowed to Bilbo deeply and thanked him for his role in the reclamation of Erebor, offering any of his wares for free as an expression of his gratitude. Darl did the same and, in a show of trust that Bilbo found most humbling, revealed that her name was in fact Umí, and that Seis was her husband. (Having met Glóin and Bombur’s wives, Bilbo now knew that if dwarrowdams travelled, they did so under an alias and dressed as dwarven men, for they were rare among their own kind and took every measure to protect themselves).

Bilbo did not want to agree to not paying for their work but neither would accept his money. The more Bilbo insisted, the more stubbornly the two refused, until the whole situation turned into quite a scene that attracted a large audience of nosy hobbits.

In the end, Bilbo relented. “Fine! I shall take a knife and a saucepan from you, but please, allow me to invite you to stay at my home tonight. I shall serve you supper in return for your kind offers.”

This Seis and Umí agreed to and thus Bilbo’s friendship with them began.

From the start, the couple was eager to learn more about him and his adventures. Bilbo found their openness to be refreshing and charming. Dwarves were known to be a secretive lot, and Bilbo remembered how long it took for other members of the Company to regard him as one of their own. Seis and Umí, in contrast, treated him as though he was their good old friend they were reconnecting with. As they asked him all sorts of questions about his life and the Quest of Erebor especially, all of his answers seemed to delight them.

“Is it really true, master Baggins,” Umí asked for example, during that first supper at Bag End, “That there are all kinds of treasures in the Mountain?”

“I suppose so, yes,” Bilbo replied. “I’ve seen hoards of gold, all kinds of precious gemstones, things made of silver and mithril - ”

“Mithril?!” Seis cried. “Are you certain it was mithril you’ve seen?”

“Why, yes -”

“Then you were so lucky to have come near it!” the dwarf said. “Many would near give their lives to be able to say the same.”

“What? What do you mean by that?” Bilbo asked.

“Mithril is now beyond price,” Umí replied. “No one has mined it for centuries and its properties make it extremely desirable. No blade can pierce it, yet it is as light as a feather.”

“To illustrate the value of mithril better to you, master hobbit,” Seis said, “Let me tell you about the piece of mithril I possess. I do not carry it with me, it’s far too precious for that, so I can’t show it to you, but it’s a throwing knife, about the size of my forearm. It’s a family heirloom, passed to me from my father, who received it as a gift of thanks from King Thráin himself. With that knife, I’d say one could buy well over twenty dozen hobbit-holes just like yours.”

“Twenty dozen?!” Bilbo exclaimed.

“Aye, it was a kingly gift indeed.”

Bilbo gave no answer to that, as he felt a bit faint. He possessed a large piece made of the unique metal himself: a whole shirt of chain mail, in fact, given to him by the King of Erebor, as a token of their friendship. At the time when he had received it, Bilbo had not been aware of the extraordinary worth of mithril. Now that he knew it, he realised just how expensive his shirt was. If he understood correctly, this single gift was worth more than the whole Shire, and wasn’t that a head-spinning thought!

His friendship having been valued more than his homeland, however, brought Bilbo only sorrow, for he was quite certain the King no longer held him in such high esteem. Indeed, even in his own head, Bilbo struggled to call them friends. They had used to be that, most definitely - true companions, who had survived remarkable dangers together, and had earned each other’s respect, trust and loyalty in hardship. Their friendship had undergone some severe trials, emerging only more strengthened, yet there was one thing it did not survive.

Heartbreak.

Bilbo forced all the memories and musings about the matter to retreat deep into his mind. It was no time for brooding; after all, he had guests to take care of. Bilbo offered his guests more ale and pork roast, which they accepted happily. As they ate and drank, Bilbo had just enough time to regain his composure.

“Aren’t you curious what deed inspired such generosity from King Thráin?” Seis said.

“My husband been itching to tell you the story this whole time, Master Baggins,” Umí laughed. ‘Be careful, or else he shall bore you to death!”

“I certainly shall not! It is an interesting story!”

“Let me hear it, then,” Bilbo said.

In response, Seis regaled Bilbo with the story of how his father Tawis played a pivotal role in helping King Thráin establish his settling in Ered Luin.

“My father was a blade smith just like I,” he said, “But he understood stone like the finest miner, and he was a Broadbeam, just like I. Our house has lived in the Mountains since the dawn of our kind. My father was already over a century old at that time, and with his wandering feet, he had got to know the whole mountain range backwards and forwards.”

Then, Seis went into staggering detail about each hall and little corridor his father helped construct, and each cave-in he helped avoid. The onslaught of specialist information about stone, mining and construction - which Bilbo really did not understand - almost made his head spin. Seis spoke of it with such pride and passion, however, that Bilbo did not have the heart to stop him. All the while, Umí shared amused glances Bilbo, until she took pity on him and interjected Seis from time to time, urging her husband to have a sip of his drink or taste more of the pork roast.

“In the end,” Seis finished his tale significant time later, “my father’s contributions were so great that Thráin was most grateful and gave him his own mithril knife. My father was so honoured by this gift that he decided to stay in the King’s service for good, and him and my mother settled along the Longbeards, like many other Broadbeams and Firebeams. The new halls kept growing prosperous, so we were eager to move there.” He leaned in towards Bilbo with a smile. ‘The fact that Longbeards turned out to be most comely was a great added bonus, I must say. Just look at my Umí here.”

Umí laughed and swatted her husband’s arm. “Oh, you Broadbeams always speak in such pretty words! Makes you wonder if you mean half the praise you say!”

“I would never flatter you untruthfully,” Seis said. ‘Never once.”

“Except for the times you know you’ve done something that would anger me.”

“I’m still truthful when I try to placate you, my gem. It’s just that I’d rather face a dragon than your ire.”

The couple kept bickering good-naturedly, which Bilbo observed indulgently, for it very much reminded him of the way his parents had talked to each other.

It was only after his guests left the next day, with promises of swift return, that Bilbo decided to poke at old wounds. He took the mithril shirt out of the chest he kept it in and studied it closely. He run his fingers over the tiny chain rings, marvelling at how apparently this one item was worth more than the whole Shire and everything in it.

“A kingly gift indeed,” Bilbo said to himself. “Oh, Thorin.”

Bilbo could not help but wonder what he would have done if he had known the true value of this gift. He suspected that this knowledge would have made the regard the dwarf King had for him more believable. As such, when Thorin had spoken of it for the first time, Bilbo had been convinced that the roundabout confession in the form of a sudden marriage proposal could not have been born of clear thinking. After all, Thorin had lain heavily wounded in his tent after the Battle of the Five Armies. Moreover, although both were certain about the trust, respect and loyalty they had for one another, neither of them had directly shown any signs deeper fondness. Thus, Bilbo found it impossible to believe that the King had truly reciprocated his affections, the depth of which he himself had only just begun to understand.

Now it seemed that Bilbo had been wrong. This whole time, ever since deciding to head back to the Shire after the battle, he had been assuring himself that he had done the right thing to leave Erebor and her King behind. He had been sure that Thorin could not have been serious in his proposal. Moreover, he had had it on good authority that at the time, Thorin’s mind might not have yet fully cleared of the sickness that had previously plagued it.

Yet, if Thorin had given him this shirt fully made of precious silver steel, it appeared that he must have truly cared Bilbo just as dearly as Bilbo still cared for him.

“Oh, Thorin,” Bilbo said again and wept, as bitterly as on the day of his mother’s passing.

Chapter Text

After Master Baggins struck a friendship with the two married metalsmiths, the dwarves became frequent guests at Bag End. Both Seis and Umí enjoyed travel and journeyed from the Blue Mountains to Bree and back at least once a year, selling their wares as they went. Each time they travelled, they made sure to pass through Hobbiton and visit Bag End and its master, who was always delighted to host them. Bilbo found a lot of joy in the company of the dwarrow couple: they were a straightforward type of people, with a ready kindness that came from good and simple hearts, and the way their behaviour towards one another reminded him of his parents never failed to warm his heart.

And so so it came to pass that for the five years following their first stay at Bag End, Seis and Umí visited rather frequently. During that time, their friendship with Bilbo blossomed, until they told him all about their families and life stories. They had a daughter and a son, whose name was Jûnis. (How their daughter was called, they would not say, for a dwarrowdam’s name was a secret well-guarded by all of her race and could only be revealed by the dame herself). Their son was a swordsmith, who had moved to Erebor in search of work and more prosperous life, as well as following love, for he was courting a lady in waiting of the King’s sister.

"He’s all lost to her," Seis said about his son once. "He didn’t want to be parted from her for a day. When it was announced that the Princess would be moving to Erebor, and so would be her court, Jûnis was up on his feet getting ready to follow her. We tried to tell him to wait, to go to Erebor once it was certain there would be work and accommodation for him there, but he wouldn’t listen. He has his heart set on her and nothing can get through to him. It’s a really good thing that she accepted him."

"Give our boy some credit!" Umí replied. "He’s a charmer, and the courting gifts he’s given her are benefiting a lady in waiting. She’s not too good for him!”

"Aye, he’s a bright one, our Jûnis. He’s going to go far in Erebor.”

"That he is. Did you know, Bilbo, that our son is already working as an apprentice of the master swordsmith? He’s definitely going to be the head of the metalsmiths guild one day!’

Bilbo, although he did not understand the significance of being a head of a guild, nodded and expressed admiration for their son’s accomplishments. There was no falseness in his sentiment, for the warmth with which Jûnis’s parents spoke of him made Bilbo care for him as well. Indeed, as years passed, Bilbo came to care for the whole family as one would care for very dear friends. Seis and Umí seemed to reciprocate Bilbo’s fondness: they always sought Bilbo out during their trips to Bree, which they began making twice as frequently as they had used to before meeting Bilbo, and even invited Bilbo to visit them and their daughter in their home in Ered Luin.

Therefore, it came as an immense shock to Bilbo that, the year he agreed with Seis and Umí to join them when they returned to the Blue Mountains after their usual trip to Bree, the couple did not appear in the Shire. They did not come in spring as they had promised, and although Bilbo tried to search for them and even went to Bree, they were nowhere to be found. He asked other dwarves about them but received no information, and the letters he sent went without reply.

Around the time of summer solstice, Bilbo ceased his efforts to discover what had happened, and his worry gradually shifted into gloomy acceptance. He did not know what had become of his friends but he begrudgingly began coming to terms with the fact that he either might never learn the truth or he would not like it once he did.

And so, in the seventh year after Bilbo’s return from his adventure, two odd things happened: the first one was that he had no dwarven guests (for it had become so usual for him to host dwarves that the whole Hobbiton regarded their absence as more peculiar than their presence). The second odd incident was that, a fortnight after the summer solstice, a very tall fellow dressed in grey robes appeared at Bag End’s green door.

That day was a hot one and Bilbo spent it hiding from the burning sun in his study, going through some paperwork related to his tenants. Due to the weather, he truly did not expect any guests, and when the doorbell to his smial rang, he thought his ears were playing tricks on him. After the doorbell rang again, however, Bilbo rushed to the door, expecting Seis and Umí.

Seeing Gandalf the Grey instead surprised Bilbo very much, but the sight of the wizard was far from an unwelcome one. Bilbo smiled brightly as he beheld Mithrandir and the two embraced warmly.

"How are you, my friend?” Gandalf said after releasing Bilbo from his arms. Taking a good look at the hobbit, he added, "I’m glad to see you’re in good health. Why, you haven’t aged a day!”

Bilbo laughed. "I’m well, Gandalf, I’m well. Now, come in! Would you like something to eat or drink? I’ve made some lemonade, it's very refreshing in this heat.”

"Lemonade would be wonderful, thank you,” the wizard replied as he entered Bag End, being careful not to bump his head into any chandeliers or doorframes.

While Bilbo set the kitchen table and prepared something for Gandalf to have with the lemonade, the wizard took a seat and regarded the hobbit closely. The experience he’d gathered throughout a great many years of his life, as well as his wizardry abilities, granted him the gift of seeing much more than others could. Thus, Gandalf quickly noticed that his hobbit friend was not as well as he claimed.

"Are you certain nothing ails you?” the wizard asked once Bilbo prepared their quick meal and sat across from him. "Nothing at all?”

Bilbo did not answer for a long time, appearing to be torn about something. "I’m fine,” he said reluctantly, at last. "It’s nothing serious, I suppose.”

"And yet, your demeanour is clouded. Has something happened?”

In response, Bilbo told him of his friendship with Seis and Umí, and how they had disappeared without a word. Gandalf expressed sympathy and reassured that the hobbit that he should certainly receive an explanation in due time, which did not lift Bilbo’s spirits particularly well.

"Oh, but enough about me!" Bilbo said then, pouring Gandalf more lemonade. "Tell me, how are you? Have you come to the Shire to meddle? I hope there’s no new adventure that you want to take me on.”

The wizard chuckled. "I’ve simply come to visit you to see how you’re doing, old friend. The end of your adventure was not the happiest for you and I’ve been concerned. So has been Lord Elrond, in fact.”

"Lord Elrond?” Bilbo almost gaped with surprise.

"Yes. I’m headed from Rivendell, as it happens. When I was there, Lord Elrond asked after you. He was worried that your last time in his home changed your perception of it. He wanted me to assure you that you’re as welcome as always to stay there.”

An expression of deep sadness marred Bilbo’s face. “I wish I would want to go. I wish I could say I love Rivendell as it should be loved, but...”

The wizard sighed. “It is because you associate Imladris with the sorrow you felt while staying there, but healing from some wounds, my dear Bilbo, begins by poking at them. You should give Rivendell another chance. It is a place of healing, after all. If you wished, I could take you there myself.”

Bilbo shook his head. Even recalling Rivendell brought him too much pain, for it it had been there that Bilbo first truly understood how very deeply his affections for Thorin ran. The realisation had come to him when he had been on his way to the Shire back from his adventure. One evening throughout his stay in the Last Homely House, he had taken a walk among Rivendell’s beautiful gardens and saw a firefly. The sight of the glowing little insect reminded Bilbo of how a year prior in Rivendell, he shared his first intimate conversation with Thorin about their childhoods and fireflies.

It had been in Rivendell when they first had begun growing close, and it had been in Rivendell when Bilbo had first felt in full how dearly to his heart he held all memories of Thorin and, indeed, just how very dear Thorin was to him, for his feelings for the dwarf were nothing short of deepest, truest, all-encompassing love. Finally, it had been in Rivendell that Bilbo had come to the conclusion that he had made the greatest mistake of his life to have left Thorin behind.

And so, although Bilbo had fallen in love with the Last Homely House when he had laid his eyes upon it for the first time, now he could not love it. The thought of going to a place filled with such painful memories filled him only with resentment.

It was most fortunate, then, that nearing the end of Gandalf’s few day-long visit, a letter came, from Primula Baggins. She had written to Bilbo to ask him to come to Tuckborough on the behalf of herself, her husband Drogo and their little son Frodo, as well as many Tooks. She had stated that his being there would be most welcome, as Frodo kept asking to see him, Drogo dearly wished ‘to have someone around who would understand his Baggins ways’, while young Tooks wanted to hear all about his adventures again. Having his presence so desired, Bilbo did not dare refuse and replied to Primula that he would set out to Tuckborough as soon as his current guest left, which gave him a much-needed excuse to decline Gandalf’s offer.

“I must say I’m surprised to see you so keen on staying elsewhere than Bag End,” the wizard said when Bilbo told him of his plans to visit Tuckborough. “You have always been so attached to this smial.”

Bilbo shrugged his shoulders. “I am attached to it. It’s just that my feet like to wander after my adventure, and I haven’t seen these cousins in a while.”

To that, Gandalf gave a hum, not entirely believing. 

On the eve of Gandalf’s departure, Bilbo sat on the bench in Bag End’s front garden together with the wizard. The two enjoyed a quiet smoke, watching the Sun set over the rolling, green hills of Hobbiton. Bilbo was in an especially pensive mood that evening; the wizard’s words about Rivendell had given him many things ponder about.

"Gandalf," he said just before the Sun hid below the horizon, “I think… well. The thing is… I don’t blame you, as it was myself who took your words as guidance, but I’m now thinking that in spite of how Durin’s folk would surely disapprove of our relationship and how uncertain it was whether Thorin would heal in body and mind, I… I should’ve been happy, had I accepted him.”

After the Battle of the Five Armies, the three heirs of Durin were dangerously wounded. They had not died on the battlefield, as Bilbo had managed to protect them from the ones who had wanted to kill them, but their condition still was very severe. Gandalf ensured, using his magic, that the King and the Princes would live. Once he did that, he met an anxious Bilbo, who waited outside of the King’s tent. The wizard told Bilbo that he had stabilised the physical condition of the three dwarves, but he cautioned that it was not certain that they should make full physical recovery.

Hearing that, Bilbo inquired about the state of King Thorin’s mind as well, as dragon sickness had overtaken it before the Battle. In response, Gandalf said that he was not sure whether Thorin was completely free of the sickness and it might happen that he could succumb to it once again in the future.

Having found this, when Bilbo saw Thorin right after and had the dwarf ask him to marry him, the hobbit thought that the proposal was a result of some convoluted reasoning, produced by Thorin’s body and mind affected by severe injuries and lingering sickness. Believing the dwarf not to be thinking clearly, Bilbo rejected the proposal. Thorin did not take the refusal well and the two of them parted in bitterness, with Bilbo leaving for the Shire accompanied by Gandalf the very next day. 

Gandalf did not know about this situation, as Bilbo made no mention of it, until Bilbo sunk into quiet despair in Rivendell. Now learning that the hobbit still suffered heartache visibly pained him, his gaze brimming with sorrow. 

“Nothing good ever comes from dwelling on the past, Bilbo,” the wizard said gently. “What passed is gone, and what lies ahead can never be known for sure. The present is all we have. Do not waste it on regret. You must try to forgive yourself for your choice, or else the weight you put on your own shoulders shall crush you.”

Although Gandalf spoke words of wisdom, Bilbo found it exceedingly hard to accept them; the present he had faded terribly in comparison to the present he could have had. With nothing in Bilbo’s current life to truly compensate for the choice he had made, and with his love for Thorin unchanged, Bilbo felt the pain of regret just as acutely despite the passing of years and, for the life of him, he could not find a way to reconcile with his own choices.

Regret made Bilbo’s heart ache especially strongly in the instances when others around him became blessed with what he deeply and secretly wished for but had lost the chance to have. In this respect, going to Tuckborough only worsened his heartache; once there, he witnessed an example of a joyous engagement, which he reckoned he could have known for himself.

Asphodel Brandybuck, an older sister of Primula’s, had accepted Rufus Burrows’s proposal of marriage just before Bilbo came to Tuckborough. And so, on the evening of Bilbo’s arrival, an engagement party was thrown, during which Bilbo was stuck listening to congratulations and excited wedding planning; Asphel’s joy and upcoming wedding was the only thing she and many of her family could talk about. All throughout the party, Bilbo could not help but imagine what it would be like to prepare and await a wedding of his own. Though he tried his best not to show his low spirits and only share Asphodel’s happiness, the whole ordeal was starting to get challenging to withstand. Just when he was about to excuse himself from the party, Bilbo was saved from his misery by his aunt Mirabella.

Mirabella Brandybuck nee Took, a sister of Belladonna’s, was of course overjoyed to see the second of her three daughters find a match. Her youngest, Primula, married first, quickly after reaching maturity, but Mirabella wished to see all three of her girls settle, although her oldest daughter Amaranth had already aged out of typical marrying age. At Asphodel’s engagement party, Mirabella sat and chatted with Bilbo a great deal - for she was very fond of “Bella’s boy”, as she called him - and debated with him about what flowers should be used to decorate the aisle, until she abruptly stopped.

"Oh, but Bilbo!" she cried. "Why am I even speaking of this to you? All this wedding and marriage business must be terribly boring to you; you have never been interested in these things!"

"Well," Bilbo said, "I’ve never been interested in that, yes."

In Mirabella’s advanced age of ninety-four, neither her eyes nor her mind were as razor-sharp as they had used to be. Thus, she did not notice her nephew’s deceit, only patted Bilbo’s hand good-naturedly and they moved on to talk about how Bag End’s garden grew.

Indeed, during the whole party, Bilbo thought he hid his foul mood well enough for no one to notice.

Chapter Text

The Great Smials in Tuckborough, the ancestral home of the Tooks, was a system of numerous smials connected by a multitude of tunnels, in which the Tooks had been residing for generations. The place was a remarkable piece of construction, which constituted a home to many a dozen families and still allowed them to host guests. Despite that, the Smials were typically rather crowded on normal days, but there were times when the place was nearly packed to the brim with hobbits, which occurred if many guests were visiting at the same time.

Such was the case when Bilbo took Primula up on her invitation. Prior to his arrival, Primula had come to Tuckborough from Buckland together with her husband and son, two sisters Amaranth and Asphodel, her mother Mirabella and her father Gorbadoc Brandybuck, as well as half a dozen of their relatives. The reason for their visit to Tuckborough was both a familial and a diplomatic one - they all wished to see their Took relatives, and Gorbadoc, the Master of Buckland, wanted to meet with his nephew Fortinbras II, the current Thain of the Shire.

With the Great Smials so overcrowded, there was scarcely a chance of not bumping into any hobbit after leaving one’s room. Bilbo, when he passed someone in the corridors of the Smials, more often than not ended up seeing one of Primula’s immediate family. This was not unfortunate in itself, but the problem was that they all liked to confide in Bilbo about their problems and tiffs, which often concerned Primula’s husband Drogo.

"My dear Bilbo,” aunt Mirabella told him one morning on their way to breakfast, "I must say that I did promise myself not to meddle in the affairs of any of my daughters, but bless me, I have no very good opinion of the way Drogo intervenes with how Prim rears Frodo. He always has objections to how she encourages his curiosity and lectures Frodo about what’s respectable. The lad is just a little fauntling, for goodness’s sake!”

"Bilbo, my dear boy,” uncle Gorbadoc said when he and Bilbo chanced upon each other in a pantry, "Since you’re the head of the Bagginses, I wonder if there’s something you you could do to arrange for Drogo to have more earnings? I’m sure he could use more money to indulge his appetite better. Why, he dines with us at least twice a week, and he always eats for three every time! Not that I mind, but I’m sure it would put him at ease to be able to buy more food for himself.”

"Whilst you’re here,” Amaranth murmured to Bilbo while they helped with washing the dishes, "Could you possibly give Drogo a hint that it would be better if he didn’t try to take precedence over papa? We know you Bagginses are an esteemed lot, but Drogo has no authority in Brandy Hall, Baggins or not.”

‘No matter how much Drogo insists on them, papa doesn’t care about proper table manners,” Asphodel said while she and Bilbo were baking lemon cake, "It’s good food he cares about.”

Primula herself had a thing or two to say as well. "I can take care of Frodo just fine without Drogo’s lectures,” she grumbled to Bilbo one evening over tea. ‘I know our boy is a Baggins and with that come certain expectations, but he’s just as much a Brandybuck as he’s a Baggins!” She sighed. "And I wish you could have him assured that nothing would happen to him when boating if only he allowed me to teach him how to swim. Perhaps you could talk some sense to him, Bilbo? Swimming is really something that one should be able to do.”

When Bilbo tried to raise these concerns with Drogo, most of his attempts were futile, as Drogo had just as many issues to complain about.

"Oh, Bilbo, you have no idea how relieved I am!” he said once when they enjoyed a smoke by the Great Door. "To have a Baggins around who understands me! Really, Brandybucks are too strange for me sometimes. How can they go boating, I will never understand. It can’t be safe. And to think Primula wanted to take Frodo boating too! To endanger our boy so! You must try to tell her to be more reasonable, Bilbo.” Another time, he said, "The very thought of going boating makes me feel ill. You have seen Brandywine, you know how wide and deep that river is. Merely being near it makes me uneasy, and living next to so much water makes my joints ache. I swear, it’s all because of that moist river air. I’m so relieved to have come here, I feel better indeed. I wish I had another Baggins with me in Buckland, then I’d be seen and heard. Perhaps you could talk to them in a way that would make them understand me?”

The unsolicited role of a mediator began to tire Bilbo profusely. His only respite from it was being outside of the Great Smials altogether, which was why he took to long walks most eagerly. Often accompanied by Primula, Frodo and many other fauntlings, Bilbo would wander around the green hills of Tuckborough, exploring its colourful meadows, charming groves and little brooks.

When not busy entertaining or watching the little ones, Bilbo found his mind wandering as much as his feet did. He tried his best not to dwell on the past, instead turning his thoughts to the problem at hand. It was not the first time that he bore witness to all the disagreements stemming from Primula’s marriage to Drogo. Since they had been wed six years ago and welcomed their son into the world a year later, the couple had been facing a problem of not seeing eye to eye on certain matters with one another and each other’s relatives. That was not to say they were unhappy together; they were greatly fond of each other, loved their son dearly, and found as much charm as fault in each other’s differences. Rather, Bilbo worried that, because of their financial circumstances, they were too dependent on Primula’s parents and thus, having no prospects of moving elsewhere, they were always bound to living near disapproving family members. Such conditions fostered only conflict and could not be beneficial for their union in the perspective of decades. Bilbo believed that the situation was likely to lead to unhappiness, and Primula’s well-being concerned him greatly; the lass, eighteen years his junior, was one of his relatives that were most dear to him.

She had always been a curious spirit ever since she had been little, and when she had been old enough to speak, she would always seek Bilbo out during family gatherings, at the time when Bilbo had been past his second eleventy birthday and everyone had already labelled him as quite a bit of a recluse. Little Primula, being a tiny fauntling, had not cared about the general opinion of him and befriended him right away. She had stayed constant in her liking of Bilbo for all her childhood, and the two had formed a strong connection, similar to that of siblings. Once Primula grew older, their bond had been nurtured by them both, which Bilbo could not have been more grateful for, especially since it had been Primula more than any other who had helped Bilbo overcome the grief of becoming an orphan.

Due to their closeness, Bilbo worried about Primula’s happiness a lot, so much so that one day he did ask her about it outright.

“Are you happy, Prim?” he said during one of their outings, on a sunny afternoon at the beginning of Wedmath. They had played hounds and hares with Frodo and a dozen other fauntlings earlier, after which the whole group enjoyed a picnic. Now that the children had had their rest, they were up again, playing leaf flutes at the top of the hill, which Bilbo and Primula were slowly climbing.

“Of course I am, Bilbo,” she replied. “I have a family of my own now, a healthy child, whatever else could I wish for?”

Bilbo frowned, displeased with her answer, for he knew far too well what one with family and a child but no place to call their own would dearly wish for. “Primula,” he said, “If you ever find yourselves in need of a different smial to stay, Bag End’s doors are always open to you, for as long as you wish.”

“Why, Bilbo, I could never impose on you so!”

“Come, now, Prim, it’s an invitation freely given. Besides, I’m sure Drogo would find the comforts of Bag End most beneficial to his health.”

At that, Primula laughed out loud. “He would indeed. There would be nothing better for his joints than the ability to run a hot bath at will!” She sobered. “Still, you’re too good, Bilbo. I cannot find it in myself to abuse your generosity like this.”

“It’d be no abuse! It’s simply the least I could do. I wish you to take me up on this invitation.”

“Bilbo, please. You must realise that it’s not easy for me to accept charity.”

“Charity? It’s not charity. I’m much more selfish in my offer than you can imagine.”

“How so?”

Before Bilbo could reply, one of the fauntlings above shouted a question about whether the group could go play in the creek on the other side of the hill, which Primula gave them permission to do.

“My adventure has changed me very much,” Bilbo said once the little ones disappeared from view. ‘Before, I was more than happy to eat my dinners alone. Once most of my grief of losing mama and papa passed, I loved my solitude. Then, my adventure showed me what I had been missing, and now I can scarcely like lack of companionship.”

“I see,” Primula replied, and that was all they said on the matter.

They walked in companionable silence, reaching the top of the hill. Bilbo began to imagine what it would be like to have Primula, Drogo and Frodo live with him and he found the idea exceedingly pleasing. He had always believed that his father had built Bag End for it to be full of laughter; the smial standing near empty seemed to be a terrible waste that had been weighing on Bilbo’s heart and mind for some time now.

When Bilbo and Primula were about to descend the hill to join the fauntlings at the creek, a call from behind them caught their attention.

"Mister Bilbo!”

It was a tween lad, running up to them together with another boy, whom Bilbo recognized to be Hamson and Halfred, the two oldest children of Bilbo’s gardener Hamfast Gamgee. The boys were visibly red in the face even from some distance away.

"Mister Bilbo!” Hamson cried again. "We’ve been looking for you!”

The two lads finally stood before them, panting heavily.

"Papa sends us,” Halfred said. "There were three dozen dwarven soldiers marching through Hobbiton before noon, and a few of those dwarves knocked on Bag End’s door! They even asked him where you were, mister Bilbo. Papa said you’d want to know.”

"Are they friends of yours, mister Bilbo?” Hamson asked.

“I don’t know,” shocked Bilbo replied, as was the truth. “Perhaps.”

Bilbo had indeed invited the Company to visit his smial anytime. He had told them at what time tea was and even not to bother knocking, when he had bidden them farewell. Thus, Bilbo dearly hoped that the dwarven soldiers in question were some of his friends, but at the same time feared the heirs of Durin might’ve knocked on his door, even though the likelihood of that event was exceedingly small. Alas, before he could ask the boys if they knew anything about how the dwarves looked like, Frodo’s pained cry carried in the air.

Chapter Text

When playing with other fauntlings by the creek, Frodo slipped on a wet stone and twisted his ankle. His injury was not a severe one, merely a sprain, but the lad was still in too much pain to walk. Bilbo carried him in his arms back to the Great Smials, where the boy was tended to by a healer in the rooms where he stayed with his parents. He was given herbal tea to relieve his pain, his swollen ankle was to be dressed with cool compresses for the next few days, and he was given strict instructions to stay in bed with his injured leg elevated for no less than a week.

The fauntling, being an energetic and ever-curious lad, was much more devastated by the assigned bed rest than his injury. He wept and wailed miserably, which caused his parents even more distress than they already were in due to their son’s accident. They tried to soothe him with calming words and tender touches but the boy was inconsolable, crying until he exhausted himself and fell asleep. Even then, Primula and Drogo did not leave their son’s side, wishing to be there in case he woke, which required someone to bring food for them and assist with whatever else that was needed.

Bilbo was more than happy to help. Now that everything was said and done, his mind would stray to the dwarves who had knocked at his door. Hamson and Halfred had told him that they had not known anything about the appearance of the mysterious visitors, only that they had seen the dwarves begin marching west before they had set off running to deliver the message, catching a post cart on the way.

And so, Bilbo wondered and worried - were the dwarves going to pass through Tuckborough? Would they ask after him? Who had come to Bag End earlier today?

The answer came much earlier than he was ready for.

Frodo woke a short time after his crying fit and asked for food, as did Drogo. Bilbo fetched them something for afternoon tea and carried three heavy-loaded plates to their rooms, taking an extra one in case Primula found herself hungry as well. When he entered the antechamber in their rooms - a living room of sorts, with an armchair by the fireplace and a table - he saw that Frodo sat by the table with his parents, having been moved from his bed in the sleeping chamber. Just when Bilbo was about to set their plates before them, Amaranth and Asphodel entered the rooms with haste, their gazes glowing with excitement. 

“Bilbo, Prim!” Asphodel cried, “Oh, you shall never guess! We’ve just seen Thorin Oakenshield! A really kingly dwarf, I must say, quite royal!”

Bilbo very nearly dropped the plates he was holding. “I beg your pardon?”

“We’ve just been introduced to him!” Asphodel grinned. “He’s come here together with three dozen soldiers and a lady! Lady... oh, I can’t quite remember! Lady Diz? She’s – ”

“Lady Dís,” Amaranth said.

“Yes, that’s her name! She looks like a ruler too! Though she has a beard, can you believe it? She’s dressed as finely as this Thorin fellow, they look so royal together, I must say! Quite a pair, the two of them, you’re going to see for yourself, Bilbo!”

Bilbo quickly concluded that the lady had to be Thorin’s wife. At this thought, grief so great struck him that he swayed on his feet. Amaranth and Asphodel stepped close to him with a cry of alarm to hold him upright, while Drogo and Primula rose from their feet.

“Uncle!” Frodo exclaimed.

“Are you quite alright?” Drogo said.

“Should we send for a healer?” Amaranth asked.

Bilbo dismissed everyone with a shake of his head. Putting the plates on the table, he replied, “It’s simply... I’m quite surprised. What a sudden visit!”

“That it is,” Amaranth said. “They say they’re on their way to the Blue Mountains. Fortinbras invited the King, the lady and all the dwarves to dine with us tonight.”

Upon hearing this, Bilbo nearly fainted again. Before he could comment, Asphodel added, “Fortnibras ordered for tables and chairs to be carried outside. We’re going to feast under the stars!”

Primula gasped. “How splendid! Oh, I cannot wait for it!”

“As do I,” Asphodel replied.

Amaranth, though she did not say the same and despite the fact that she had a more guarded disposition compared to her sisters, showed signs of excitement too, as her eyes gleamed with joy. It was no wonder that the three sisters were so eager to meet the dwarves; Brandybucks were more open and aware of the outside world, living at the edge of the Shire, and the three daughters of Mirabella were half-Took, thus they also shared the Tookish love of the unexpected.

“You wish to attend, then?” Dorgo asked his wife.

“Yes, I do not see why not.”

“How can you even contemplate such a thing?” he said angrily. “To attend a party when your only child is in need of care!”

“I shall not leave him unattended for the whole night!” Primula retorted. “I wished to go only for a while, and I wanted to ask mama to watch him for me in the meantime.”

“Still, I do not like it. You’re his mother, mothers should tend to their children!”

“So should fathers! Have you, as his father, not considered going too? I would not believe that you decided to forego a feast. If you have no problem with attending, then, why shouldn’t I?”

“But I want to go with you,” Frodo said then. “I want to meet the dwarves too!”

To that, his father replied that it would not be possible. His mother argued that it would be much too soon for him to move and that they would not have him risk worsening his injury. The refusal brought the fauntling to tears and Frodo cried miserably again. The attempts of his parents and aunts to console him were for nought.

In Frodo’s sadness, Bilbo found a perfect opportunity to avoid facing King Thorin, which was what he wished to do above all else.

“Frodo, my dear boy,” he said, “How about I stay with you tonight? I can tell you all about dwarves, so you will feel like you’ve met them! And then, tomorrow, perhaps your papa could carry you to eat breakfast with everybody. Then, you’re going to see the dwarves.”

“Why, that’s a good thought,” Drogo said. "I shall be able to carry you just fine, son. My joints are doing much better indeed.”

This, at last, seemed to satisfy Frodo. The lad calmed, nodding his head, and leaned into his mother’s side for comfort.

“But Bilbo, wouldn’t you want to meet with the dwarves?” Primula said, stroking her son’s hair. ‘Wasn’t Thorin Oakenshield the one you went on your adventure with?”

“Yes, well. I feel a bit weak, after all the events of today. Staying here with Frodo will be just the rest I need. I don’t think they shall be very upset to see me in the morning instead of this evening. They’re not setting off at the crack of dawn, are they?”

It was indeed terribly rude to hide away like this and Bilbo was well aware of that fact. However, he could not find the courage in himself to look the King in the eye just yet.

And so, while everybody prepared for the feast under the stars, Bilbo stayed by Frodo’s side and entertained him with all sorts of stories about dwarves. He told the fauntling about how Durin’s folk enjoyed making merry and songs, about their bravery in battle, their mistrust of outsiders but openness and affectionate nature with each other, and many other of their traits and quirks. All the while, he made as little mention of their King as possible, not wanting to think about the fact that the one his heart had been crying out for, and the one whose heart he had broken, was so very near.

As time passed, Frodo began to grow increasingly sleepy. His father paid them a quick visit, bringing them food for supper, which Frodo ate with his eyes half-open. Then, his mother came to put him to bed. After she tucked him in, she proposed that she and Bilbo have tea, which Bilbo agreed to readily.

“What is wrong, Bilbo?” Primula whispered once she poured him a cup and handed it to him. “You have been acting strange since the dwarves have come.”

“I might be able to tell you,” Bilbo said, “But not today. Not when... Not now.’ 

Primula accepted the answer, though she appeared concerned. The two of them sat by the fireplace, sipping on tea. The quiet between them was interrupted when Drogo walked into the room, closing the door carefully after himself.

“Is Frodo asleep?” he murmured.

“Sleeps as hard as a rock,” Primula said.

“Good, I should hate us to wake him. The king and the lady follow me. They insist on calling on you, Bilbo, but they wait for permission outside in case you do not feel well enough.”

Bilbo began to feel unwell indeed upon hearing this. His heart pounded so hard in his chest that he could scarcely hear his own thoughts. Through a haze of shock and anxiety, he first wished that he had brought his magic ring with him, as that would allow him to disappear, but he tended to forget about the little trinket these days. After a panicked internal debate, Bilbo came to the decision that it would be better to face Thorin sooner rather than later in the end. Mustering a weak nod, he allowed Drogo to let them in.

Lady Dís entered first, and Bilbo was surprised to see that she was not disguised as a dwarven male. Instead of wearing a tunic and trousers, she was dressed in a robe of dark blue with silver embroidery. Her eyes were in the colour of the sky, while her hair and short beard - decorated with delicate silver nets of crystals and sapphires - were very dark brown. With her attire, proud brow and nose, and the assuredness with which she carried herself, Bilbo had to admit she looked regal indeed.

King Thorin followed right after her. His clothing was in the same colours as lady Dís’s but he wore very little jewellery. His hair, streaked with a lot more silver than it had used to be, was not decorated and very simply braided, and so was his beard, long now, held in one plait. In Bilbo’s eyes, Thorin had never needed any regalia to demonstrate his kingship; rather, a proof of Thorin’s regality was in the very way he behaved, in how he talked, thought, moved and held himself. The little room in which the King stood now seemed much too small to contain his powerful presence. The sight of him wrenched Bilbo’s heart with yearning, yet the hobbit could not tear his gaze away from him. He both hoped and dreaded to catch the King’s eye, but Thorin would not look at him.

“I do hope your little one is well,” lady Dís told Primula. “I am a mother myself, I know how your child’s ailment must pain you.”

The implication that Thorin’s wife was a mother, which would only mean that the King had started a family with her, was like a blade piercing Bilbo's sternum. The hobbit had to fight very hard not to audibly gasp in pain and the ringing sound in his years almost made him deaf to the continuing conversation.

“Oh, thank you, ma’am,” Primula replied. “My Frodo is all right, he sleeps now.”

‘We do not wish to intrude on you," the dwarrowdam said. "I just wanted to inquire about Master Baggins. We’ve been told you’re unwell, master Burglar.”

Hearing himself being addressed by his old moniker helped Bilbo regain just enough composure to speak. He forced a small smile. “Thank you, my lady. It’s nothing a good rest cannot fix. I shall be right as rain tomorrow.”

“Then I shall not keep you from your rest. I hope to see you at breakfast.”

“Very well,” Bilbo replied, unable to refuse, though in truth he had absolutely no wish whatsoever to spend more time with Thorin’s wife.

Lady Dís, satisfied, said her goodbyes and left. King Thorin turned to follow her, but acknowledged everyone in the room with a look and a nod before that. Bilbo was the last one he directed his gaze at and when he did, their eyes met at last.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, in greeting and goodbye, in an apology and plea, all at once.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin replied measuredly, bowed his head, and headed out of the room.

It was impossible for Bilbo to stifle the ache of disappointment at Thorin’s dismissal. Indeed, the hobbit was troubled with so many thoughts and emotions that he hardly knew what was happening around him. As though through a mist, he registered that Primula had Drogo walk him to his rooms and that Drogo made him a melissa tea to drink. Once the herb started taking effect and Bilbo calmed a little, he began to understand a new truth in earnest: Thorin was married with children and clearly wished to have as little to do with him as possible. After all, he said but two words to Bilbo. Seven years, and 'Master Baggins' was all he had to say!

Bilbo persuaded Drogo to leave him, though the other hobbit was greatly concerned and thus loath to comply, and only then allowed his tears to fall. Until this day, he had harboured some hope of Thorin still reciprocating his affections. Now it was apparent that this was not the case. Bilbo could barely stand the loss of that hope and wept bitterly.

It was not a restful night.

Chapter Text

Sun rose early over the hills of Tuckborough. The sun rays painted the landscape in gold and chased away the chill of the night. The air was fresh, filled with smells of grasses, and trees, resounding with birdsong so loud that it began to wake the dwarven visitors of Tuckborough, who installed a dozen tents near the entrance of the Great Smials. Just as the dwarves began to rise, so did the hobbits inside their smials, although the latter were woken rather by empty bellies than sun and birds. What both groups shared this morning was that nobody was particularly well-rested, as the welcoming feast had lasted quite late into the night. Yet, there was no person less refreshed in all of Tuckborough than one who did not attend the party, Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo, shaken by the revelations about King Thorin’s personal life, could not find peace that night. He kept tossing and turning, his mind returning to Thorin and his behaviour endlessly. His thoughts strayed to Lady Dís just as much as to Thorin. He wondered who she was and what she had done to capture the King’s heart. Her appearance and manner did make her a perfect Queen, Bilbo thought. Durin’s folk probably loved her just as much as they had to love their King. Indeed, Bilbo mused, their marriage must have been a celebrated match, unlike what the King becoming wed to a hobbit would have been.

There were no words that could express how reluctant Bilbo was to meet with Thorin’s chosen at breakfast. Yet, the sucking feeling of hunger in his belly became too bothersome, to the point when could no longer ignore his body’s needs. With a headache and a gaping hole for a heart, he rose from bed, washed and dressed as suitably as he had the strength to in his current state.

When he left his room, he did not look for Lady Dís directly. First, he headed to one of the pantries where dried herbs were stored and took a pouch of a herbal mix for headaches. Then, he decided to head to Thain’s rooms to find where Lady Dís could be. The riddle was resolved by the dwarrowdam herself, as he chanced upon her together with another lady (though she disguised herself as a dwarven soldier, Bilbo was beginning to be able to notice the subtle differences in appearance between dwarven men and women) in one of the corridors.

“Master Baggins!” lady Dís exclaimed with a relieved smile which Bilbo found charming despite himself. “I’m afraid that we’re lost. We were given directions about how to go outside from our rooms but hobbit tunnels are confusing. Could you show us the way?”

“Of course,” Bilbo answered, greeting his teeth. Remembering himself, he turned to the dame he did not know and bowed. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service.”

“Lady Yani, at yours.” She took a deep bow. 

"Yani is my lady-in-waiting," Lady Dís said.

Lady Yani said no more and Bilbo began leading the way. He made no effort to converse with either of the dwarrowdams, but Lady Dís did that for him.

“Are feeling better today, Master Burglar?”

“I am, my lady, thank you.”

After a moment of silence, the dame said, “Why is it that hobbits dwell underground like this, Master Baggins?”

The question took Bilbo aback so much that he stopped in his tracks to ponder the answer.

“I do not know, my lady. It simply has always been our preference.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Us dwarrow were made from stone by our maker, which is why we feel best among stone. I thought that hobbits, in a similar fashion, were created from soil.”

Aware of how secretive dwarves tended to be, Bilbo found it strange that Lady Dís should bestow such trust upon him. It seemed to signal a wish for familiarity that Bilbo did not reciprocate. And so, decided to keep his distance, he only replied, “We know little of the history of our kind, my lady, and nothing of our maker.”

“Still, what if hobbits were created from soil? Perhaps by Yavanna herself, the wife of our own maker. It’s a charming thought.”

“Charming indeed,” Bilbo said sincerely, though he was still at loss as to why the dame would share such ideas with him.

Soon, they walked through the Great Door and Bilbo saw the campsite that the dwarves had set up alongside the path leading down from the entrance to the Great Smials. Further away, under several large oaks, tables were standing, some hobbits moving about them. Bilbo supposed that was where breakfast would be served, yet heading there would mean passing through the dwarven camp, which would increase the likelihood of seeing King Thorin. The hobbit was aware that avoiding the King was impossible in the current circumstances, but still, he did wish to postpone facing the dwarf as much as he could. Yet, as his luck would have it, when they passed through the camp, there the King was, talking to one of his soldiers by a tent.

When Bilbo’s eyes met Thorin’s the hobbit nearly tripped over his own feet. Having the dwarf’s attention on himself rooted Bilbo to the spot and he could only look back at the King, unable to move. Thorin held his gaze for a short moment, then bowed his head, just like before, and returned to the conversation with the soldier. The brief interaction caused Bilbo to feel as though his whole body and mind had lost their balance, and he needed a second to stand in place and compose himself.

“You must forgive my brother his court greeting, Master Baggins,” Lady Dís said, “but he’s always occupied with his duties. He’ll join us at breakfast soon enough.” 

“Your brother?” Bilbo said incredulously. “Thorin’s your brother?”

“Of course he is, Master Baggins! Who else could he be? Aside from my King, for he is that to me too.”

“I – forgive me, my lady, I assumed... oh, how silly I was! I assumed he was your husband!”

Lady Dís burst into loud, deep, unrestrained laughter. At that moment, Bilbo thought that, in the way she laughed freely, she resembled Fíli and Kíli, Thorin’s sister-sons, uncannily. The hobbit concluded that the King’s nephews had to be Dís’s children. Now, he could clearly see the ways in which the two princes took after their mother: Fíli shared the colour of her eyes, Kíli inherited the colour of her hair, and both of them seemed to share her cheerful nature.

As Bilbo realised all this, a wave of such relief swept through him, which led him to laugh together with Lady Dís, until he could barely breathe.

“Oh goodness,” he gasped out once he calmed down enough to speak. “I apologize if my assumption offended you, my lady.”

“Worry not, I’m not offended; it wasn’t an unreasonable assumption to make. I am the Queen of my people in all but name.”

There was a question that weighed at the very tip of Bilbo’s tongue, an inquiry about whether there was one in fact crowned Queen in Erebor, but he could not find the courage to pose it. Instead, he began heading towards the tables and Lady Dís together with Lady Yani followed.

Now that he knew Lady Dís was not Thorin’s wife, Bilbo found himself greatly more open to the idea of growing familiar with her. And so, as they walked, he was the one to resume the conversation.

“Are you and your party setting off to continue your journey today, my lady?”

“Thorin insisted on it, but I’ve refused to move just yet. Your Tháin extended his welcome for us to stay here as long as we wish, and I do believe we need a few days of rest. We’ve been travelling from Erebor almost non-stop and we’ve grown weary. Besides, I could not forego the opportunity to become acquainted with you, Master Baggins. You’re the reason why we pass through the Shire at all, in fact. Thorin would have had us take a shorter route, but he can never change my mind once I am decided on something.”

“I do hope I was not a cause of any disagreement between you,” Bilbo only said, feeling rather faint.

“Do not worry. You have saved the lives of my sons and my brother; it’d be no challenge for anyone to understand why I’d want to meet you.”

“I... thank you, my lady.”

“No, I thank you.”

With that, lady Dís took a deep bow before the hobbit. Bilbo felt rather silly, having all but a Queen bow to him; when he had parted with Gandalf at the edge of the Shire after his adventure, the wizard reminded him that he was just a little fellow in a vast world. Royalty honouring him so was far too grand for a little hobbit that Bilbo knew himself to be.

“Well, let us...” he stammered, his cheeks flaming, “Let us take our seats and eat.”

To the hobbit’s immense relief, the dwarrowdam and her lady-in-waiting complied. They found an unoccupied table, which was laid with a wide selection of meat, cheese, bread, fruit, tea, ale, and lemonade, as well as a stack of plates and cups to take and fill.

The plates and cups suddenly reminded Bilbo of Fíli and Kíli. He recalled their mischievous display of dexterity when they threw Bilbo’s plates around after their supper at Bag End - one to which Bilbo was not informed the Company was invited - and did not damage a single piece of the tableware. The memory, which had become a fond one to Bilbo, caused the hobbit to find himself missing the two young dwarves and their antics acutely.

“I must say it saddens me that Fíli and Kíli have not come with you,” he said to Lady Dís. “I would have loved to see them.”  

“They said much the same about you before Thorin and I departed, but we had them stay in Erebor. Fíli rules as regent with Balin to advise him, and Kíli oversees the kingdom’s security under Dwalin’s guidance. We thought it would be a good exercise for them.”

“I’m certain they shall perform very well. They’re good, brave lads.”

Lady Dís smiled warmly. Bilbo’s remark about her sons seemed to endear him to her completely, and the two chatted for the rest of the morning. Their animated conversation was from time to time interrupted by hobbits greeting them or dwarves wishing to introduce themselves to Bilbo. Then, Frodo and his parents, the lad carried piggyback by his father, joined them for breakfast. Lady Dís seemed to welcome the new company and when Frodo began asking her numerous questions about dwarrow and dwarrowdams, she indulged the fauntling’s curiosity most graciously.

It was, all in all, an eventful and engaging meal. Bilbo, although he enjoyed himself immensely, sleep deprivation was affecting his ability to follow the general discussion happening around him. At times, in need to rest his mind, he shifted his attention elsewhere, which was when he discovered that King Thorin was not likely to eat breakfast with him and his companions, as he was already seated between Fortinbras and Gorbadoc.

Bilbo made a great effort for Thorin not to be the only one he took note of. Thus, he also noticed, for instance, the peculiar behaviour of Lady Yani. The dwarrowdam was perfectly attentive to the lady she served, filling her plate and cup the moment they got empty, making sure that jewellery was impeccably placed in her hair, but she barely spoke at all. Her demeanour was dimmed and a far-away look was often present in her eyes.

The hobbit thought that the lady-in-waiting appeared really quite unwell. Wishing to know whether there was cause for concern, Bilbo asked Lady Dís about it as discreetly as he could.

“Is there something wrong with Lady Yani?” he murmured, leaning in close to her.

“Aye, that there is,” she replied quietly. “I shall tell you in confidence that she’s lost the dwarf she was in courtship with. To make you understand the depth of her grief I must also tell you that us dwarrow do not fall in love often, but when we do, we only love once. Even if we’re parted from or rejected by the One of our heart, we never ask for another. Losing the One of your heart is beyond devastating.”

The way in which she spoke of the matter gave Bilbo the impression that she knew this grief from her own experience, but he did not dare pry. His heart filled with compassion both for Lady Yani and Lady Dís, for he himself had lost the only one he could ever love; hobbits, much like dwarrow, felt true love only once in their lives and, once the seeds of love sprouted in their hearts, they fostered the feeling most carefully, growing it like a garden together with their partner.

Bilbo had never stopped tending to his love for Thorin, even without the dwarf by his side. How could he not, when Thorin the most remarkable person he had met in his life? Bilbo chose to nourish his love with the memories of Thorin’s perseverance, strength, and gentle spirit buried beneath a harsh exterior, and of the trust and respect the dwarf bestowed upon him throughout the Quest.

Now, the hobbit could not help but wonder whether it was at all possible that Thorin returned his affections. Knowing the worth of his mithril shirt and the way dwarrow loved, Bilbo was unable to squash a silly little hope rising within him that perhaps Thorin had in fact been fully intentional in his proposal of marriage. Unable to contain himself any longer, Bilbo looked to where Thorin was seated, in search of some sign, only to find him deep in conversation with Amaranth.

An odd sensation coiled in his stomach and a terrible ache throbbed behind his breastbone, stealing all the air from his lungs. His internal state must have manifested itself outwardly, as Lady Dís said, “Are you all right, Master Baggins?”

“Just a headache, my lady. I think a nap shall do me some good.”

With that, Bilbo promptly excused himself and retired to his room in the Smials. The pain in his chest did not subdue but the hobbit was way too tired to examine his emotions. He laid down in his bed and, before sleep overtook him at last, he admonished himself that he should know better than to hope.

Chapter Text

So great was Bilbo's exhaustion that he did not sleep through one, two, or three meals, but four! His body was in such need of rest that he did not wake in time for second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, and afternoon tea. It was only an hour before dinner that Bilbo rose at last. The very long nap refreshed him in body and mind and, now that he possessed full clarity of thought, he could not help but laugh at his behaviour in the morning. To think he had stormed away like a youngster who had just seen a lass he liked kiss another!

Bilbo huffed, both amused and embarrassed with himself. “Get a grip, Bilbo Baggins. What right do you have to be jealous? No right, that’s what you have. He owes you no fidelity, you silly hobbit. You have no business acting lovesick when you were the one to reject him.”

This was a harsh truth hard to accept, and Bilbo quickly realised that he would need time to reconcile with it, but he was still determined to improve his conduct. With such a decision in mind, the hobbit got himself in order and left the Great Smials to join everyone for dinner.

At this hour of the afternoon, the sun had not yet begun to set. The day was very warm but not too hot, and the temperature in the shade was more than comfortable for enjoying a meal, which seemed to be exactly what everyone was doing. Bilbo beheld the hobbits and the dwarves sitting together under the oak trees, fauntlings playing tag and conkers around them, and felt great joy upon the sight. He thought that the scene before him painted the picture of pure peace and merriment and, having experienced the bite of a sword and a hiss of arrows, Bilbo was suddenly overcome with a fierce protectiveness. If I had to go to battle again, he thought, it would be for this: contentment and laughter.

The hobbit spent a short while savouring this moment. Then, he searched for a place to sit and his gaze landed on a table occupied by the Thàin Fortinbras Took, his wife Lalia and son Ferburas as well as King Thorin, his sister and her lady-in-waiting on one side, with Gorbadoc and Mirabella Brandybuck with Amaranth, Asphodel, Primula with Frodo and Drogo on the other. There was still room for at least one more person to sit among them. Bilbo, remembering his resolution, was not deterred by the King’s presence and approached the table.

Bilbo was met with wide, welcoming smiles. As he took a seat in the middle of the table - between Primula and Gorbadoc, right across Fortinbras and King Thorin - he was asked by more than one person about his well-being. Once he reassured everyone that he was feeling well and apologized for his sudden disappearance in the morning, the attention of the group shifted away from him. Bilbo was most happy with that, as he would rather simply enjoy the food. Thus, the hobbit just ate and listened to others around him.

The general conversation centred, rather naturally, around the discussion between King Thorin and the Tháin. Yet, if there was one thing to know about the current Tháin of the Shire, then it was that he had an imperious and outspoken wife; Lalia never hesitated to instruct her husband in all sorts of matters, which she did not fail to do now.

“I do think we should give the dwarves the beef jerky and dried fruit we have in our stores,” she said to him when the topic of their guests' departure was discussed. “Yes, that is what we shall do. It’s only respectable to give one’s guests such parting gifts when they set off for a long journey.”

“We cannot go to Buckland anytime soon,” she said as Gorbadoc invited the Tháin and his family to visit Buckland. “Don’t you remember that our boy’s first eleventy birthday will be next month? And then there’s Bilbo and Frodo’s birthday a month after that. We shall be too occupied until the middle of Winterfilth. Then, we can go.”

“Dear, you must tell Ferumbras to eat more,” she said when their son refused a second helping of dinner. “He needs it to grow.”

“Why, I should think Fermubras will get more food for himself if he wants to,” Fortinbras retorted. “He’s big enough to decide about his eating.”

“But not big enough to know what’s best for him.” With that, she placed a meal's worth of food on Fermubras’s plate.

And so it continued: each time the Tháin wished to state something, his wife interjected him to put in her tuppence. In the end, Fortinbras could not utter three sentences together before Lalia made a decision on his behalf.

At some point, he laughed. “You see, King Thorin,” he said, “this is what happens after you marry; your wife becomes the ruler of you, no matter if you’re any kind of ruler yourself!”

King Thorin laughed, though not as much as the others around. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Ah, you’re a free dwarf, then. You should enjoy it, while it lasts!”

“My brother is not a free dwarf, Master Fortinbras.” Lady Dís chuckled. “For he already is married, only, it is not to any person, but to his kingdom. I daresay, Erebor is the luckiest wife in the whole of Middle Earth, with how attentive Thorin is to her needs!” Her brother looked at her with clear annoyance but she only grinned. “Did you know that he almost escaped the infirmary once, while he was still gravely wounded from the Battle of Five Armies and could not walk three steps by himself, because he wished to fulfil his kingly duties so dearly?”

King Thorin appeared as though he was withholding himself from rolling his eyes. “I was only keen on starting to rebuild Erebor after the Battle, most extremely keen.”

“I imagine such devotion to one’s kingdom requires a lot of work,” Mirabella said.

“Aye, that it is.”

Lady Dís sighed. “I do worry that our King may work himself to the ground one day.”

“See, that’s why you’re in need of a wife, King Thorin!” Fortinbras said. “She would not let you overwork yourself.”

“My sister already does that,” Thorin replied with a pointed look at Lady Dís. “And I need not take a wife, for I’m in no need of a Queen, as Dís fulfils this role. Though she was not crowned as such, my kingdom could not have a finer Queen than her.”

“You shall sing a different song one day, King Thorin,” Lalia said. “When you begin to miss the companionship only a true wife could provide you, you shall begin to wish to have someone crowned Queen.”

“The folk of Durin does not feel a great need for companionship. Many of us are more driven towards craft than anything else.”

“Craft over companionship?” She exclaimed. “Why, that makes you lot odd indeed! I could not imagine living my life in such a way.”

The reactions of Lady Dís and Lady Yani showed that they took offence to Lalia’s statement. Bilbo noted - since he knew Thorin well enough to read the small changes in his usually straight face - that the King felt insulted too.

“Lalia,” Bilbo said sternly. His tone was in very bad taste, for he was in no position to reprimand her as a guest in her home, but he cared not. “Just as you may find their ways odd, so they may find ours, but our differences are just that. Differences. They are not something to scoff at.”

“It doesn’t seem to occur to you that your views on differences and oddness are peculiar. I shall view the matter my own way, the way reason guides me.”

Bilbo, out of consideration for little Frodo and Ferumbras, mustered the patience not to escalate this disagreement into a full argument - which he felt more than willing to do - and ignored Lalia’s snideness. Instead of answering, he reached for his cup and took a calming sip, swallowing down his irritation together with tea.

“I gather the opposite is true for hobbits,” King Thorin said to no one in particular, his demeanour cold. “You are driven more towards companionship than craft.”

“That’s right,” Fortinbras replied. “We’re a very familial people.”

“And is it common for hobbits to marry?” the dwarf inquired, earning himself a curious look from his sister.

“Why, yes,” baffled Tháin answered. “Some of us don’t manage to find the one they want to marry but the majority of us do. It’s quite rare for someone not to look for a spouse at all.”

“I see.”

The King said no more and seemed to ponder something deeply. Bilbo tried his best not to wonder what might have prompted the dwarf’s odd question.

From that point on, the atmosphere of the meal gradually returned to a more pleasant one. Then, the mood was uplifted to downright delight when a little fauntling, Perigrin, approached King Thorin and said, “Mister King, play conkers with me!”

Every adult hobbit present laughed, their amusement doubled by the King’s flabbergasted expression, while Frodo and Ferumbras grew very excited at the mention of the game. In fact, Frodo wished to play so dearly that he pleaded with his parents to let him.

“All right then, my boy,” Drogo said and rose from his seat, taking Frofo - whose ankle still did not allow him to walk on his own - from Primula’s lap and placing him on his hip. “You may play as long as I’ll be able to carry you. Now, King Thorin, would you like me to explain how to play conkers?”

To the delight of all the hobbits around, King Thorin accepted Drogo’s offer. Drogo proceeded to describe all the rules of the game and demonstrate exactly what to do with the help of his son. King Thorin was given a conker on a string and played his first trial game against Frodo in Drogo’s arms, with the lad’s father giving the dwarf all the needed guidance.

Bilbo could only imagine how smitten he had to appear as he gazed upon Thorin. He was utterly captivated by the sight of the King playing conkers with the look of utmost concentration on his face. His heart swelled with love and he could not repress a smile.

“Master Baggins,” Lady Dís said, bringing Bilbo’s focus away from the King. A blush coloured the hobbit’s cheeks as the dwarrowdam regarded him. “Is conkers a game only children play?”

“Not necessarily,” Bilbo said. “Children play it much more because they have time to do it, but us adults also play it. In fact, there are conkers championships.”

Lady Dís was curious about that as well, so Bilbo tried his best to answer all her questions. Then, as the hobbit offered to provide commentary on Thorin’s first match proper, against Perigrin, he was invited by the dwarrowdam to sit between her and Lady Yani.

The duel between Thorin and little Perigrin gathered a large audience of hobbits and dwarves alike. It was indeed an absolutely precious thing to behold; the King, in order to level himself with the lad, had to sit on the ground, and Perigrin appeared to be treating the game as a very serious business, if the solemn expression on his face was anything to go by.

In the end, the lad lost the match; although more experienced at conkers than King Thorin, Perigrin did not possess nowhere nearly as much strength as the warrior dwarf. The fauntling was not greatly affected by the defeat and challenged the King to a rematch. In the meantime, many other fauntlings were nearly shouting over themselves, fighting about who was to face the King next. King Thorin almost got swarmed by little ones, until their parents intervened and dragged their children away. The dwarf King was then called for a celebratory drink by his soilders, who wore teasing smiles.

“Is this how your kind passes the time? Food and play?” Lady Dís asked when the King took his leave.

“We also like to enjoy a smoke, a good story and song,” Bilbo replied.

“Such peaceful pursuits,” she said with a thoughtful look in her eye. “This land is indeed of the kindly West.”

Bilbo only nodded. For a while, he simply admired the cheer and serenity around as he had earlier, and the dwarrow ladies seemed to do the same. As the silence stretched, Bilbo could not help but notice that once again, Lady Yani had barely spoken so far. He thought it would not do; his  father had drilled manners into him too thoroughly for him not to provide Lady Yani with an opportunity to say something.

“What are your thoughts on the game of conkers, my lady?”

“It seems rather enjoyable,” she said.

“Would you like to play it with me?”

At this, Lady Yani gave a surprised smile. “No, thank you, master Burglar. I’ll leave the game for others to enjoy. I must attend to my lady.”

“Oh, you’re more than welcome to go and enjoy yourself, Yani” Lady Dís told her.

“I thank you, my lady, but you know I’d choose other forms of entertainment if I wanted to enjoy myself.”

Lady Dís only hummed in acknowledgement. Bilbo, uninformed and curious, said, “And what is it that you would do, Lady Yani?”

“I’d weave tapestries and embroider. I’ve been developing my craftsmanship in weaving since I was small and I’ve always found great joy in it.”

“Yani is already a master weaver,” Dís said to the hobbit. “You should see the tapestry she created for my brother’s coronation, Master Baggins. It depicts him on the throne and the likeness of him is so strikingly faithful that one has trouble believing it’s not the King in the flesh.”

“That does impressive,” Bilbo said. “You must be greatly skilled indeed, Lady Yani.”

Lady Yani bowed her head demurely. “I simply tried to do His Majesty justice.”

“He was pleased with your work, I’m sure.”

“That he was,” Lady Dís said. “So much so that he commissioned a whole series of tapestries depicting the events of the Quest of Erebor.”

“Goodness me!” Bilbo exclaimed. “That must require tons of work!”

“Indeed. Although this journey keeps me from most of the work that must be done, it is also a good way to refresh my recollection of the places the King’s Company passed through during the Quest. I’ve drawn detailed sketches of Mirkwood and Thranduil’s Halls, for instance, that are going to help me in the future. I do regret that we have not visited Rivendell, I was told it’s a unique place.”

“Rivendell,” Bilbo said quietly. “It’s an extraordinary sort of place, my lady.”

The hobbit went on to describe Rivendell, its ethereal beauty and healing air, as extensively and vividly as he was able to, regardless of his personal feelings about Imladris. Once he finished, Lady Yani watched him with amazement.

“You describe it like a true wordsmith, master Baggins,” the dwarrowdam said. “Are you a man of letters too, above being a master Burglar and a hero of Erebor?”

Bilbo blushed at the compliment. “Nonsense! I’m merely a - ”

He was interrupted by Primula’s excited cry of his name. She had previously left the table to relieve Drogo from carrying their son but now that Frodo was back on his father’s hip, Primula approached Bilbo briskly, holding two conkers on strings in her hand. “I challenge you to a game!” she said with a smile.

Bilbo would never refuse her, for she was taught the tricks of the game by him himself. Bilbo was an esteemed conkers player and when Primula had been young, he had taken it upon himself to teach her all his secrets. Playing with her now was delightful; it was a match of equals, with the apprentice besting her master in the end, and the duel was made all the more entertaining thanks to Lady Dís’s loud cheering-on.

Defeated by Primula, Bilbo was asked to play by her sisters. He won over both, though they were not easy victories, especially with Amaranth. Then, many other of his cousins wished to play with him and when Bilbo finally had to opportunity to return to the table, he was rather pleasantly tired. With a smile, he headed towards where he had been seated previously but found his seat occupied by King Thorin.

The moment the dwarf noticed Bilbo approaching, he rose from the table.

“This was your seat,” he said to the hobbit.

“No, please – ”

Before Bilbo could say anything else, the King walked away. The hobbit, rather stunned by how suddenly the dwarf had walked away, watched after the King. It seemed to him that his proximity was so unbearable to Thorin that the dwarf could not stand to be near him, and that caused Bilbo’s heart to ache.

He could only watch as Thorin was challenged to a game of conkers again, this time by Primula and her sisters. Bilbo took his seat by Lady Dís and observed the dwarf play, commenting on the matches with both Lady Dís and Lady Yani.

When King Thorin was playing against Asphodel, Rufus Burrows, who had been absent during the time of the dwarves’ stay due to a family matter he had to settle in Hobbiton, just happened to return to Tuckborough at that moment. When he beheld his fiancée playing conkers with King Thorin, he seemed to interpret Asphodel’s wide, sweet smile and her physical closeness to the dwarf as a sign of interest on her part. Instantly, his countenance became a thundercloud and he directed a formidable glare and the King and his betrothed.

Rufus’s reaction began to draw the attention of everyone around. Conversations ceased and nervous looks commenced. The change in the air caught the attention of Asphodel herself. Just when she noted the presence of her fiance and his foul mood, however, Rufus stormed away from the party. She followed him until the nearest shrubs shielded the two from view and the dinner resumed normally.

After a short while, Asphodel returned, without Rufus. Amaranth ran to meet her and the two conversed in hushed voices. When Bilbo later asked Asphodel why Rufus had left, she only said, “It was just a misunderstanding. I shall go see him in Tookbank tomorrow and sort it out.”

Apart from this hiccup, the evening passed merrily. Dinner lasted until the time for supper, with a warm and cloudless evening descending upon Tuckborough. The dwarves and the hobbits ate, drank and mingled, talking, playing conkers, later also dancing and singing together.

It was overall a greatly enjoyable end of the day. Bilbo readied himself for bed in high spirits, recalling the most memorable moments of the evening. This inevitably led to the hobbit’s thoughts straying to King Thorin, which was when his mood dampened. The dwarf’s behaviour made Bilbo feel hopeless, for it seemed that Thorin dearly did not wish to interact with him, and Bilbo was at loss about what to do. Would it be better, he wondered, to abide by Thorin’s wishes and avoid each other, or should he push for them to talk to one another and have a conversation about the past?

Not wanting to loose too much sleep again, Bilbo decided to ponder the issue another day, with a clearer head. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Bilbo rose early and decided to enjoy a smoke by the entrance to the Great Smials. He was not to only one to have thought of that idea, for Drogo sat on the bench in front of the Great Door already. This was no surprise to Bilbo — the two of them shared mornings like this quite frequently. Bilbo did not particularly mind the other’s hobbit company; Drogo was a Baggins to boot, who never said or did anything unexpected, thus Bilbo always knew what to anticipate in a conversation with him.

Therefore, predictably, they chatted about the weather, how they slept, and then the events of yesterday’s evening. Drogo updated Bilbo on what had occurred while he had been taking his long nap during the day. After that, to Bilbo’s astonishment, Drogo said something surprising.

“King Thorin and Lady Dís told us about your adventure. They say that all your stories are true, that you encountered trolls and goblins, a dragon and whatnot. Not that I ever doubted you, cousin, but it is still strange to think that all those creatures are out there. I sure hope they won’t ever come here and if they do, we have you, don’t we, Bilbo?” He chuckled. “The King and his sister told us just how accomplished you are, Bilbo. It seems you’re a rather famous adventurer. Though you’re not the adventuring type much anymore, are you? King Thorin seems to think the same. He said you seemed to have settled back into your hobbit life.”

“He said what?” shocked Bilbo said, nearly choking on the smoke from his pipe.

"Just what I told you; I asked what he thought of you after so many years since you last saw each other and he replied that you seemed to have settled back into your hobbit life. That’s not a bad thing, is it? There’s nothing better than a respectable hobbit life, I always say.”

A hot, red flush spread over Bilbo’s cheeks. The hobbit turned his face away from Drogo as discreetly as he could, trying to hide all the emotions that his expression revealed. Thorin’s remark brought forth memories of their conversation after the Battle, before they parted ways, during which the dwarf spoke of hobbit life with scorn. Now, Bilbo could not help but conclude that, unless his opinion changed, the King did not hold him in such high esteem; just a little hobbit who lived the simple ways of his kind.

Humiliation and anger arose in Bilbo at this thought. He felt embarrassed to have potentially lost much of Thorin’s respect, yet he also did not believe it fair that he should be disregarded due to living a simple life. To him, the hobbit ways were not inferior to anybody else’s. Yet, the fact that the King would look down upon them was a hurtful reminder of both Thorin’s occasional arrogance and his own general lower standing, for such were the ways of this world that a ruler of a mighty kingdom was not unlikely to look down upon a farming people.

Drogo took note of Bilbo’s silence. "Is everything all right?” he said with concern.

"Of course, yes! Pardon me, I got lost in thought for a moment.”

This was a reassurance enough for Drogo; he continued the conversation and Bilbo had managed to regain enough composure not to alarm him further. As they talked, Amaranth and Asphodel walked through the Great Door, looking to be dressed for an outing.

“Are you headed somewhere?” Drogo asked them.

Asphodel hesitated. “We’re going to Tookbank.”

“Tookbank? Why, that’s a lovely walk ahead of you. Why is it that I’m never told when you’re going on lovely walks?”

“Would such a walk not be too hard on your joints?” Amaranth said.

“Of course not, my joints are in excellent condition! I shall go with you.”

Asphodel and Amaranth were not too enthused. They exchanged a look of poorly concealed displeasure, then directed their attention to Bilbo with apparent desperation.

“Would you like to join us, Bilbo?” Asphodel said.

Bilbo, though as unwilling to mediate their quarrels as ever, could not find it in himself to refuse. Thus, after Drogo informed his family of his plans and Primula chose to accompany them, leaving Frodo under the care of his grandparents, their party of five packed some breakfast to eat and on the way and set out. As they descended the path from the Great Door and passed through the dwarven camp, they happened to meet the King himself. When Asphodel spotted him, she briskly approached him with a smile.

“King Thorin, take a walk with us!”

Amaranth hastened to follow with, “Have you time for a walk, Your Majesty? We're going to Tookbank to visit family and the sights are quite lovely on the way. Do join us if you may.”

The King’s gaze flickered to the other members of their party. It was apparent that he hesitated but in the end, he decided to join them, to the delight of the misses Brandybuck. King Thorin told his sister of his destination and then their party of six headed out to Tookbank.

The morning was quite hot, with heavy clouds hanging low in the sky (though there were no signs that a storm would occur). Such conditions were not ideal for a walk almost four miles long, thus the group enjoyed a few breaks to rest and admire the hilly landscape around them, with its meadows, fields and forests. During one stop, they ate the scones and cherries the hobbits had brought with them. Then, they reached a wide stream that was on the way, which they found even more refreshing than breakfast, as it cooled the air most pleasantly.

They strolled along the rocky banks of the brook, enjoying the peaceful melody produced by the gentle flow of the water. At a place where many large stones protruded from the stream, Amaranth and Asphodel, who were at the front of the group, fancied crossing to the other bank. They did so by hopping from one rock to another gracefully. King Thorin, who walked after them, did not follow right away and stood in place.

"Come now, King Thorin,” Asphodel laughed, "Surely, you’re not afraid of getting wet?”

"Do you need a hand?” Amaranth said. "To be fair, the stones are slippery.”

The King was not insulted by the teasing; he responded to it with a chuckle and a smile, and crossed the stream without an issue.

Bilbo had scarcely seen Thorin smile at all, and certainly not in the same manner as now — indulgently, with unconcealed amusement. Having got to know the dwarf as well as he had, Bilbo now knew that the smile was no small sign. The King showed such openness to a rare few. It hurt the hobbit’s heart to not have been the receiver of this gesture, though he was not shocked that the honour befell Amaranth and Asphodel. If there was any word to describe the two sisters, it would be ‘lovely’.

Amaranth and Asphodel, together with Primula, shared their mother’s features — a shock of loose dark curls (which were regarded as attractive among hobbits), wide dark green eyes and full, healthy figures — as well a great deal of her character, with their quick wits and cheerful nature. By all means, it was hardly a difficulty to think either charming. Thus, Bilbo could not blame Thorin for starting to develop an attraction. Amaranth especially, he thought, was likely to win the dwarf’s regard. Ten years Bilbo’s junior, Mirabella’s oldest daughter was still full of vigour but had all the sense and self-assurance characteristic of middle age. Her rather guarded disposition made her all the more a match for the King in terms of personality.

Bilbo tried his best not to let himself be overtaken by gloomy jealousy. Yet, his thoughts wandered and he dragged his feet. After they crossed the stream (which Drogo struggled with doing the most and in fact required his wife to hold him by the hand), Bilbo found himself at the tail of the group. This was when King Thorin levelled with him. They walked side by side in tense silence until the King halted and spoke.

"Master Baggins.” He held out a handkerchief for the hobbit to take. “You dropped this earlier.”

Bilbo realised that the handkerchief must have fallen out of his pocket after he used it to wipe his mouth from cherry juice. He stared at the cloth, which appeared starkly white in the King’s worn hand. Bilbo reached for it gingerly, looking into Thorin’s eyes as he did so. The intensity the hobbit found in the King’s gaze nearly made him start, though the nature of this strong feeling Bilbo could not decipher.

The hobbit was unable to look away; he found it arresting how brightly the crystal blue of Thorin’s eyes shone. It revealed the immense strength of the dwarf’s spirit, he thought. These were the eyes of someone with such perseverance and power in his nature that he did the impossible thrice over. This was the one who survived a dragon attack on his homeland, led his people through decades of poverty and hardship, only to restore their lost kingdom and prosperity after embarking on a mad Quest.

This was the one who Bilbo loved.

The hobbit was overwhelmed by a surge of affection he felt for the King. His heart swelled with it, and the way Thorin’s eyes bore into his caused his blood to sing. Then, Thorin pushed the handkerchief into Bilbo’s palm and walked away.

The interaction could not have lasted more than a minute, yet to Bilbo it had seemed to stretch into a small eternity. Now that he was no longer drowning in Thorin’s eyes, the hobbit felt as though he emerged from below the surface of water and he gasped for breath. Composing himself took him quite a while, for he could not stop recalling the moment the rough and warm skin of Thorin’s hand brushed against his own.

Soon, Tookbank came into view. A small village nestled between rolling hills, Tookbank offered a charming view, its smials and fields blending seamlessly into the natural landscape. The group took a moment to admire it from the top of the hill they were standing on.

"There." Asphodel pointed to one of the smials at the edges of the village. “That is the home of my fiancé’s aunt. Let us go there now, it can’t be time for elevensies yet.”

Drogo sat down on a large fallen log next to him. “I shall stay. It is not seemly to pay an unexpected visit.”

“Come now, my dear,” Primula said. “I’m sure they shall not take any offence to that. Rather, I think they shall be insulted if you do not call on them; they’re our future family after all. It should hardly be longer than a quarter of an hour anyhow.”

“No. I am a Baggins, and Bagginses only come on invitation, as is respectable. I am right in this, aren’t I, Bilbo?”

Bilbo — receiving expectant looks from both Drogo and Primula, each waiting to support their point — resisted the urge to sigh tiredly. "I do not think it necessary for so many of us to go. Crowding their smial out of the sudden wouldn’t be in good taste. I shall wait here.”

He was relieved that Primula did not seem to be offended; he thought that Asphodel would appreciate more private conditions for a conversation with her intended. In the end, it was just Primula and Asphodel who went on to call on Rufus and his family, as King Thorin chose to remain and Amaranth decided to keep him company.

"It is most unpleasant when your own relations care so little about propriety,” Drogo said. "But I assure you, King Thorin, I have never once come to someone’s home without a word of warning.”

The King smiled slightly in response, which Bilbo knew to understand as a grimace of scorn. The hobbit felt embarrassed by the situation and was quite grateful when Amaranth promptly proposed to King Thorin that they look for blueberries in the hedgerow some distance away. The dwarf agreed and the two disappeared out of view.

Primula and Asphodel were taking rather long, and Bilbo grew tired of sitting next to Drogo in silence. He began strolling around and happened to come into the earshot of the conversation between his cousin and the dwarf king.

“Drogo believes himself to hold more authority than he does.” He heard Amaranth say. “We all would’ve liked Bilbo as Prim’s husband a great deal more, but he’s too closely related to us. But then again, I suppose it’s hard to tell if Bilbo would’ve married her even if he wasn’t family.”

“What do you mean?” King Thorin said.

“He’s never been keen on finding a spouse. He rejected quite a few offers in his youth, and even after his adventure, Drogo’s older sister proposed that they enter courtship but he would not have her.”

“Have you any information about the reason for this rejection?”

“From what I know, there was no interest on his part.”

“He’s never been interested in anyone, then?”

“Not that I know of. Perhaps you’re more informed in this matter than me, King Thorin. Perhaps Bilbo took a liking to someone during the adventure he went on with you.”

“I am as uninformed as you are, Miss Amaranth.”

Bilbo believed that Thorin was fully truthful in that statement; the dwarf had indeed never known the depth of Bilbo’s affection for him, as the hobbit had never had the chance to tell him. Now, Bilbo wondered whether it was too late to express his feelings, and if such a confession would be welcome at all. Thorin’s conduct continued to confuse him; though the dwarf had given him a whole shirt of mithril, now he did not seem to care for Bilbo to any significant degree and favoured his comely cousins. The hobbit had to think whether the King harboured resentment towards him — the emotion being the true source of the intensity in his gaze earlier. He began to doubt his earlier assumption the kingly gift was born of affection and debated whether Thorin’s proposal was indeed a product of a clouded mind.

Before he could ponder the matter any further, the silhouettes of Primula and Asphodel emerged on the horizon, the latter on the arm of a male hobbit whom Bilbo recognized to be Rufus Burrows. Once the three approached and everyone gathered back together, introductions were made between Rufus and King Thorin. Asphodel’s fiancé did not appear to hold any grudge against the dwarf or his intended and made a cordial conversation with everybody until their group decided it was time to head back. Rufus promised to join them in Tuckborough by the evening before he bode them farewell.

The walk back passed mainly in silence, as the rising heat of the day had tired everyone, even King Thorin. When they reached the Great Smials, it was past noon already. The dwarves and the hobbits were in the midst of preparing for luncheon at the tables outside. As their group came to join everyone else, they were approached by Lady Dís and Lady Yani.

"A letter from the Blue Mountains came when you were away,” Lady Dís told her brother and passed him a piece of parchment.

"I shall go read it now,” the King said and bowed his head to his hobbit companions. "It was a pleasure.”

Once luncheon was served, Bilbo was invited by the King’s sister to sit with her, which the hobbit agreed to happily. The King himself was, once again, seated with the Tháin, though he conversed with Primula’s sisters across him most frequently. At one point during the meal, Lady Dís noted this.

“I believe that my brother does not mind the company of your cousins, misses Amaranth and Asphodel,” the dwarrowdam said to Bilbo in a bemused manner. “It is rather curious. I do wonder if he could be interested in either of them. What is your opinion, Master Baggins? Could Thorin fall in love with a hobbit?”

Bilbo found himself under the scrutiny of Lady Dís’s searching eyes. The hobbit had to resist the urge to squirm; the dwarrowdam’s gaze seemed surprisingly knowing. Up to this point, he believed that she either feigned ignorance remarkably well or that she was completely unaware of how much had transpired between her brother and Bilbo. Now it appeared that she was in fact aware, or held suspicions which neared certainty.

“I think it is only Thorin who can know his own heart, my lady,” Bilbo said.

“Of course, that is true.”

The hobbit did not look at her, for he did not wish to discover how much his response revealed to her.

Chapter Text

As luncheon was drawing to an end, King Thorin announced that the dwarves would be continuing their journey to Ered Luin come morning. The news was met with quite a bit of protest from the hobbits of Tuckborough.

"Surely, you and your men have not had your rest yet!” the Thàin said, "You’ve only been here three days!”

His wife was of an exceptionally similar opinion. "Why, that scarcely leaves me enough time to prepare the food for you! Do wait until midday so that I can see you off properly.”

"We would rather not wait,” the King replied. "We wish to reach the Blue Mountains as soon as we can.”

"I wonder what they are like,” Amaranth said then, "The Blue Mountains.”

"Oh!” Asphodel’s countenance brightened and she looked at Thorin with hope. "Perhaps we could see it? Perhaps we could accompany the King?”

King Thorin (and indeed, everyone around) seemed rather stunned by this suggestion, so much so that he did not respond.  

It was Lady Dís who replied, "Getting there is going to take a week of steady, fast march. From dusk to dawn, with a few breaks. Such a fast pace cannot be comfortable.”

"We could keep up if we rode ponies,” Amaranth said.

"You cannot be serious!” Drogo cried. "Surely, you do not truly consider going with the dwarves!”

"What if I indeed do?”

At that, Drogo sputtered and did not hesitate to voice his indignation. His wife expressed an opinion in defence of her sisters. Their mother supported her daughters but was then confronted by Tháin wife, who took Drogo’s side in rather crude words. Since Mirabella Brandybuck would bear no disrespect, she gave Laila a piece of her mind. This developed into a heated debate between the two matrons about whether adventuring was seemly for hobbit lasses to indulge in, and the discussion quickly spread among all the hobbits present. Amidst the chaos, Lady Dís leaned in close to Bilbo.

"A moment on the side?” she said to him quietly.

Bilbo complied and she led him to the dwarven camp. With her people and hobbits still seated at the tables under oaks trees, the tents provided shelter from any unwelcome eyes and ears.

"Master Baggins, I do not say this to imply that your cousins would be welcome in our halls but I must tell you that most of our kin in Ered Luin will not accept their presence at this time. That is not because of any dislike or prejudice against hobbits but due to the fact that the Steward of Ered Luin and his wife have welcomed twins into the world, a blessing so incredibly rare and precious among our kind that any dwarf would guard this knowledge with their life. It is a blessing so remarkable that the King Under the Mountain has personally travelled half the Middle Earth to pass his congratulations. I share this with you since you have proven yourself as a protector of the line of Durin and have laid your own life in our cause during the Quest; you have done enough to earn my confidence. Your cousins, however, have not. They will not be allowed to know this, and are not likely to be allowed to enter the inner halls at all, perhaps not even into the Mountains.”

"I see,” Bilbo only said, for he was already lost in thought, considering how he could dissuade his cousins from accompanying the dwarves. The information presented to him by the dwarrowdam helped him realise how much of an issue the presence of hobbits would be in King Thorin’s party. Thus, he left Lady Dís with a promise to explain the situation to his cousins without revealing any confidential details.

When Bilbo requested to talk to Amaranth and Asphodel, the two sisters seemed to take it as a favourable sign. They followed him to his room rather excitedly and once he invited them to sit at the chairs by a small table he used as a desk, there were smiles on their faces.  

"Would you like to give us advice for adventuring, Bilbo?” Asphodel said.

"Adventures are not as exciting as you think they are. They make you eat half as much as you normally do and tired like you didn’t think was possible. You’re cold at night, dirty all day and uncomfortable at best, in pain at worst. I need you to truly realise this. I need you also to understand that there are serious dangers out there. True dangers, that can cost you dearly when you come across them.”

"Have you forgotten we’re from Buckland?” Amaranth said. "We live next to the Old Forest; we do know of the dangers of the world.”

"Yes!” Asphodel chirped. "Me and Amaranth have gone into the Old Forest on occasion. What can be more dangerous than that?”

It cost Bilbo a great effort not to reply with a scathing retort. Instead, he said, "There is one more issue here that you must consider. As our guests, the dwarves have been courteous. In the Blue Mountains, they will not be so gracious as hosts. I do not think you shall receive the greatest welcome; you know dwarves are a secretive lot, and believe me when I say that they are justified to guard their ways. You must trust me on this; the dwarves will not want you among them. It is for good reasons, which I am not at liberty to share, but still, you would not be welcome.”

The sisters’ mood dampened considerably; they grew quiet, their excitement clouded by tangible disappointment.

"Well," Amaranth said sadly, "I suppose one should not go where they’re not invited.”

"What a shame.” Asphodel’s eyes shone with tears. "I’ve always wanted to go adventuring like Aunt Belladonna and you, Bilbo.”

Bilbo’s heart, already breaking with guilt and sympathy for his cousins, twisted painfully at the mention of his mother. "I’m truly sorry, but just consider, Asphodel: you know what adventuring does to one’s reputation. Wouldn’t going with the dwarves come at the price of your engagement?”

"Rufus likes that I’m adventurous.”

It was then that they heard heavy knocking at the door. Bilbo, having heard it before, was not surprised to find Thorin standing at the entrance to his room. His sister was a few steps behind, just drawing level with him.

"If Miss Amaranth and Asphodel truly wish to come with us,” the dwarf King said once Bilbo invited them inside, "Then they are invited to do so, on the condition that Master Baggins accompanies them as the one responsible for their safety and well-being. Since he’s a hobbit who’s travelled before, he can guide them through the journey, which will not be an easy one. My party won’t slow for the sake of you, Misses, but if you are able to keep pace with us, you are welcome to join us, as my guests, together with Master Baggins.”

With that, the King exited the room, leaving his sister with the hobbits.

Bilbo found this turn of events so bizarre that he gaped openly. He directed a questioning look at Lady Dís, who appeared irritated but resigned. The dwarrowdam shook her head with disbelief and said, "Should you choose to travel with us, start preparing as soon as possible. We would rather not delay our departure by more than a day.”

And so, preparations began. Bilbo instructed Amaranth and Asphodel what they needed to pack, what kind of ponies they should look for, and again told them exactly what sort of unpleasantries and discomfort to expect during travel, but Misses Brandybuck remained undeterred. The dwarves informing them that they were likely to head back from the Blue Mountains in about a moon did not discourage the two sisters either and they got ready for their adventure with utmost eagerness.

The length of their upcoming absence posed an unexpected difficulty to Bilbo; if he were to return to the Shire at the start of Halimath, he would not have enough time to properly organize his birthday party, which was beyond expected of him by half of the Shire. Indeed, Bilbo’s birthday parties were a highly anticipated affair, particularly thanks to the splendid gifts each guest received from the Master of Bag End.

To add to this trouble, Bilbo refused to leave Bag End unattended, for he suspected what would happen to the desirable smial should its owner not be present long enough again. The issue of Bag End could be a cause for concern but Bilbo quickly understood that it was, in fact, a solution in disguise. He recalled his earlier worries about Drogo and Primula’s struggles and realised that the current situation of both himself and the couple was an answer to each of their problems.

Thus, Bilbo requested Drogo to conduct his affairs as the Master of Bag End during his absence and engage in birthday party planning, in exchange for decent compensation after Bilbo’s return.

"You must not worry over finances,” Drogo said. "It shall be my honour; I will always gladly work for the good of us Bagginses. My father was not taught to be the head of our clan, as it was uncle Bungo’s role, but he did pass on to me the knowledge of management and I shall put it to good use now. Do not fret over a thing, cousin, your affairs shall be tended to with utmost care.”

Bilbo was confident in Drogo’s ability, for he knew that the other hobbit had learned letters and calculations just as he himself had, while his Baggins manners and mindset would endear him to the residents of Hobbiton, facilitating business dealings with them.

Of Primula, Bilbo asked to take care of Bag End, cooperate with the Gamgees in tending to his garden, and never let Lobelia Sackville-Baggins enter Bag End.

"If only Frodo was a bit bigger, and fully well, I would go with you,” Primula said, "But I am more than happy to do this for you instead. No silver spoons shall disappear from Bag End while I’m there.”

"Thank you.” Bilbo took her hands into his and squeezed tight. "I too dearly wish you could accompany me. One day, once Frodo is more grown, we shall travel together. Drogo should become less resistant to the idea of adventuring in that time.”

Primula laughed. "But Frodo grows as fast as mushrooms after rain! He shall be grown so soon that I might just end up having to run out the door like you did. If I were to wait for Drogo’s approval, I’d never live to see the day!”

"Oh, have some faith, Prim! Stranger things have happened, Drogo may even come with us.”

At this, Primula giggled, and the sounds warmed Bilbo's heart more than anything.

Once this was settled, Bilbo left Tuckborough for Hobbiton immediately, for there were many tasks he had to complete before the journey. On the evening of the day when the dwarves announced their departure, Bilbo returned to Bag End, called on the Gamgees to inform them about his plans, and packed for travel. The following morning, he wrote necessary instructions for Drogo and letters to his tenants, purchased a pony, and bid farewell to his smial and the few friends he had in Hobbiton.

The hobbit made his way back to Tuckoborough after that, though he did not look like a hobbit very much anymore: he wore a traveller’s cloak, his elven blade, Sting, hung from his hip, and a dwarven shield was attached to the saddle of his pony. (As a precaution, he also had his magic ring tucked into one of his pockets and the mithril shirt well hidden beneath his clothing).

"Perhaps you have turned into a wizard,” Primula commented on the state of him when they were saying goodbye to each other the following day. Bilbo was about to set out for the Blue Mountains with Amaranth, Apshodel and the dwarves, while Primula, her husband and son were getting ready to travel to Bag End. "You’re sweeping hobbits off to adventure just like Gandalf did to you.”

Bilbo initially chuckled at the remark but soon, it began to bother him. He started wondering what had become of him; after returning from the Lonely Mountain seven years ago, he had not believed that he would ever answer the call of adventure again. Yet, here he was, having embarked on another unexpected journey easily, as though he had been waiting for it all long.

One could say that he was selfless in doing so; his presence was necessary for Amaranth and Asphodel to be allowed among the dwarves and, although Bilbo did not truly understand King Thorin's reasoning behind this requirement, he was still willing to bear the dwarf's cold behaviour towards him as long as his cousins could experience their dream of adventure. In truth, however, Bilbo had purely selfish reasons, for his heart was as unwilling to let go of King Thorin as ever. This was quite possibly his only chance to be in Thorin's presence again. Perhaps, he thought, this shared time would be an opportunity to rebuild their friendship, at least to the state that could allow for a discussion about the past. Bilbo had little hope for Thorin reciprocating his affection - given the lengths he went to in order to stay in the company of Amaranth and Asphodel instead - but he did believe that closure was needed, especially considering how they had parted ways previously.

The mithril shirt Bilbo wore underneath his clothes, though feather-light, weighed heavily on him as he recalled his last true conversation with Thorin. After the Battle of the Five Armies, once Gandalf healed King Thorin's wounds, he went to fetch Bilbo, since the King had asked for him. The wizard talked with Bilbo about the King's physical and mental state and then let Bilbo inside the King's tent.

Bilbo saw as the dwarf King lay there on a coat, heavily wounded, and knelt at his side wordlessly, too shaken to speak.

"I will take back my words and deeds at the gate,” Thorin told him, referencing how he had laid his hands on Bilbo and threatened to harm him for handing the Arkensone to King Thranduil and Bard the Bowman. "You did only what a true friend would’ve done. Forgive me. I was too blind to see. I’m so sorry that I’ve led you to such peril.”

"I’m glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It’s far more than any Baggins deserves.”

The King gazed at the hobbit for a long moment then, with unconcealed affection that startled Bilbo.

"Stay in Erebor,” he said. "I’ll have you rule by my side, as my Consort.”

Never in his strangest imaginations would Bilbo conceive Thorin Oakenshield proposing to him. The hobbit was utterly confused and believed the dwarf to be too. "You’re not thinking clearly, Thorin. Me? As your Consort? That’s - ”

"You think me mad?” Thorin’s voice tremored with deep, raw hurt.

"No!” Bilbo rushed to reply. "That is not what I mean! I mean that I’m just a hobbit and you’re... the King of Erebor now! That does not... make sense!”

"So you reject my proposal?”

"It’s just... I don’t understand you right now!”

"Return to your Shire, then. Go back to your books and your armchair,” the King said with a scoff, his tone full of disdain. "Plant your trees, watch them grow.”

He did not spare Bilbo a glance as he said this, his eyes firmly directed at the ceiling. The hobbit felt greatly hurt by such a cold and scornful treatment. Given all his invaluable input during the Quest, he could not believe this was how the King bid him farewell.

"Is this all?” he said bitterly. "Am I dismissed?”

"I wish you safe travels, Master Baggins.”

These were the words which Bilbo had thought would be the last ones Thorin were to ever say to him - spoken with anger and resentment.

"Safe travels indeed,” Bilbo muttered under his breath now, as he rode atop his pony in the company of more than thirty armed dwarrow, their warrior King leading them westwards.

Chapter Text

The journey to the Blue Mountains was as fast-paced as King Thorin and Lady Dís had warned. Misses Amaranth and Asphodel found the conditions of travel rather challenging but Bilbo made sure to fulfil the role of their guardian to the best of his ability. He taught them how to distribute their energy throughout the day so that they would not slow the dwarves, shared his provisions with them when they complained of hunger, and advised them on overcoming the soreness caused by whole days spent riding in a saddle. To add to that, Bilbo entertained them with conversation often, since most of the dwarves accompanying them were not greatly eager to engage with them. As Bilbo had told his cousins, they were not the most amicable during the journey and adopted a great deal of reserve towards them. Bilbo himself imagined that they were not pleased with the King’s decision to invite outsiders to their party and understood that it was not easy for them to accept their presence at this time. Amaranth and Asphodel, however, uninformed as they were about the reason for the dwarrow's change in behaviour, seemed quite disheartened by it.

There were few exceptions to the general attitude towards the hobbits. Lady Dís and Lady Yani, for instance, were much more forthcoming with their time and attention. King Thorin, too, did not shy away from a conversation with Misses Brandybuck. Bilbo found himself talking to Lady Yani especially often; the lady-in-waiting asked him many questions about the Quest of Erebor. She wished to know his record of the events and requested that he describe some places and creatures from the Quest. She claimed that his depictions were greatly useful for her tapestry commission and was particularly delighted by his characterisation of Smaug. Bilbo was glad to uplift the spirits of the grief-stricken dwarrowdam and he was greatly proud of himself for bringing a true joyful smile to her face when he offered to sketch the fire drake for her.

Given how happy his offer had made her, Bilbo began working on the sketch of Smaug as soon as possible. Every day, once their party made a stop for the night, he would sit by the fire every evening and draw with charcoal in Lady Yani’s sketchbook. Although years had passed, Bilbo could recall Smaug’s face and the great size of him, which he made sure to depict in his drawings as best as he could. The sketches he worked on aroused quite a lot of curiosity, especially in Asphodel and Amaranth.

"My goodness, Bilbo!” Asphodel cried as she peeked at the sketch of Smaug’s full body in Erebor’s treasury. "Was the dragon really that huge? You’ve drawn a little silhouette there by one of the paws, but surely, he was not that big?”

"Oh, he was that size, big and strong enough to even topple over some columns of stone! He breathed fire, too, of course, and it was so hot that it melted even gold.”

Asphodel gasped. "And you told us that you’d talked to him! How were you not terrified?”

"Oh, I can think of only one more instance in my whole life when I was as terrified as when I spoke to him. I thought that surely, I would not survive the encounter with him.”

"How did you?” Amaranth said. "Truly, it had to be a feat to survive facing such a beast.”

"Well, I thankfully figured that he enjoyed flattery. Not only was he gigantic and powerful, but also highly intelligent, and very much aware of his own qualities. I must say that had he not been a malicious being born of evil, I would’ve admired him for the mighty creature that he was. But I took advantage of his arrogance - he loved to hear me praise his mightiness, and I managed to do it for long enough that I bought myself time to escape.”

"That is a feat indeed!” Amaranth said. “Bilbo, but this is just extraordinary, how clever you are.”

Bilbo blushed and thanked her but did not reply, returning to his task. For the four following evenings, he worked on his sketches with dedication. As his work progressed, so did Lady Yani’s joy seem to grow, and she expressed repeatedly how glad she was that he was drawing Smaug for her.

The friendship blooming between the hobbit and Lady Yani did not go unnoticed. Bilbo’s cousins began to tease him if he was too lost in conversation with the lady-in-waiting to realise that they wished to talk to him. Lady Dís took note of the situation by expressing her approval.

"You have a good influence on Yani, Mater Baggins,” she said. "This is the first time I’ve seen her so at ease with anyone since she lost her One.”

In terms of approval, King Thorin seemed to be of a directly opposite opinion in comparison to his sister, as it was not a solitary occurrence that when Bilbo engaged in a discussion with Lady Yani, he found himself at the receiving end of Thorin’s glare. The King’s behaviour was a source of confusion for the Hobbit yet again but he firmly decided not to let it affect him. This was not the first time that Thorin Oakenshield disapproved of him in some manner and Bilbo refused to be dejected by whatever flaw the dwarf found in him now. In fact, he had half a mind to confront the King and tell him in no uncertain terms that it was not right for him to show Bilbo such dislike when it had been him in the first place who ruled the hobbit's presence to be required.

In search of answers to the manner in which King Thorin behaved, Bilbo turned to his sister for help. He reckoned it was a sensible idea; given how attached Thorin and Lady Dís appeared to be, he reasoned, the dwarf King likely had confided in her. 

"Have I done something to offend King Thorin?” Bilbo asked her three days into the journey.

"Whatever do you mean, Master Baggins?" Lady Dís said with bewilderment.

"Well... it seems to me that he has an issue with something. That's the impression I have when he looks at me."

"It is my brother who you must ask about this,” she replied curtly.

With this path to truth blocked, Bilbo had to look for it by himself. And look he did, for he was quite helpless against the way his eyes strayed to the King. He worried that it was plain for everyone around to see how much his observing stemmed from his yearning, so he always made sure not to look at the King for too long. When he did watch the dwarrow ruler, the pain of longing and regret that Bilbo had been struggling with ever since rejecting Thorin’s proposal returned in full force.

King Thorin, a true king of his people now, was — if Bilbo had to describe him in one word — magnificent. Remaining the same fine leader the hobbit remembered him to be, he guided them towards Ered Luin with competence and care, always knowing exactly when and where to pass through, make a stop, and set camp for the night. All the dwarves around him treated him with near reverence, with the sole exception of his sister, who showed him the appropriate respect but had no qualms about teasing him and joking about him lightly.

(Witnessing the sibling affection between King Thorin and Lady Dís brought forth another regret of Bilbo’s, a far older one, and he could not help but wonder if his life would have been enriched by the existence of a brother or a sister. How different his childhood and later years would have been, he thought, had he had a sibling by his side? Alas, this was one of the matters in which nothing could be done, which Bilbo had largely come to terms with).

In the end, watching King Thorin did not yield any result in regards to explaining his behaviour towards Bilbo. Indeed, Bilbo discovered nothing new from his observations besides the depth of his own heartache. 

After five days of lively march, the Blue Mountains began growing closer on the horizon. As their party drew nearer and nearer to their destination, anticipation could be felt among the dwarves. It was no wonder that they should be excited; after all, they had travelled half of Middle-Earth to reach that place.

The general air of excitation was rather notably not shared by Lady Yani, who behaved in a manner that contradicted that of her kindred — she became increasingly grim and withdrawn. Bilbo was not certain whether he was at liberty to inquire about the reason for this shift in her mood but the dame herself addressed the issue on the day before they were supposed to arrive in Ered Luin.

"Forgive me my low spirits, Master Baggins,” she said to him in the evening, after they had set up camp. "It is caused by painful memories which the Blue Mountains bring forth. Or rather, my memories of the Mountains have been tainted by a loss I have suffered.” She paused for a long while. "You see, Master Baggins, it was in the Blue Mountains when I met and began courting the One of my heart, Jûnis. He and I departed together for Erebor. We began settling there together and planned a shared life. Yet, Mahal would not design it so and Jûnis was returned to stone last year. Not a day has passed by that I don't long for him.”

Bilbo felt as though a cold spear pierced his heart. Surely, he thought with dread, Lady Yani could not have spoken of the same Jûnis he knew from Seis and Umí’s stories. The terrible possibility weighed on his mind yet he dared not ask Lady Yani to elaborate about her late beloved, in part because he did not wish to worsen her sorrow but also due to the fact that he was not ready to know the answer to his fears. He only expressed his deepest condolences, which the dwarrowdam, immersed in her pain, did not receive most graciously.

"You have no conception of what I’ve lost,” she scoffed.

The hobbit did not take offence to her reaction and empathised with her more than she could know. Allowing himself to look at King Thorin yet again, Bilbo could not help but think that they were nothing better than strangers to each other. In the past, during the Quest of Erebor, one would sacrifice their life to protect the other without a single moment of hesitation. Bilbo was the one Thorin had turned to for council and help in the direst times. Thorin was the one Bilbo had trusted to be able to fight against anything to bring the Company through hardship.

Of this singular, precious level of trust, nothing remained, and they could hardly look each other in the eye now.

"Perhaps I do,” Bilbo muttered to himself, quietly enough for Lady Yani not to hear him.

With a new worry and a heavy heart, the hobbit became another person in their party who did not rejoice at their arrival in the Blue Mountains.

Chapter Text

The capital of the dwarrow dwelling in Ered Luin was Thorin’s Halls, named after its ruler, King Thorin II Oakenshield. The entrance to the stronghold was constituted by a sizeable gate carved into the Stone of the Blue Mountains. The gate consisted of a large door, the outer edges of which were decorated with runic inscriptions and geometric patterns characteristic of dwarven architecture, ramparts above it, and two large statues of Durin the Deathless standing vigil at both its sides.

When King Thorin returned to his halls on a sunny afternoon in August, after having left eight years before to reclaim Erebor, he and his convoy were awaited by a large crowd of dwarrow gathered at the rampart and by the gate’s door. The King halted his party about twenty yards before the gate and shouted something in Khuzdûl, the language of dwarrow. All his people - both those who accompanied him and the ones who had gathered to greet him - gave a loud reply in the same language, then repeated it. The King responded with a phrase in Khuzdûl, which his people said after him. The powerful, booming noise produced by their voices was nearly flooring for the three hobbits present. Miss Amaranth and Asphodel observed what had to be a welcoming ritual with unconcealed awe and a touch of apprehension, while Bilbo - though he had experienced some of the dwarrow penchant for ceremonial - was nevertheless thrilled and stunned.

Following this exchange between the King and his people, the ruler led his party through the entryway into the Entrance Hall while the crowd above them and around them cheered. The Entrance Hall was a large square with four massive stone pillars connecting the floor and the ceiling at least two hundred feet above. At the edges of the square, there were numerous entries to corridors at different levels above and below the Hall’s floor as well as staircases leading to them.

Bilbo had already witnessed the genius of dwarven architecture in the form of Erebor - a whole large kingdom successfully constructed inside a lone mountain - but he was no less impressed by what he was seeing now. Though not as grand in terms of size and decoration in comparison to Erebor, Thorin’s Halls were still a spectacular feat of Durin’s folk craft.

So lost was Bilbo in his admiration that he returned his attention to the happenings around him only when he heard Amaranth say his name loudly.

"King Thorin is calling us,” she told him.

Bilbo looked at the dwarven ruler to see his expectant gaze already resting on him. The hobbit did not manage to contain the flush reddening his cheeks but at least he did not stumble as he and his cousins approached the King, who waited for them together with a richly-dressed dwarf with a long, plaited brown beard.

"May I introduce Hovin, son of Huvin, the Steward of Ered Luin,” King Thorin said to the hobbits. He then told Hovin, "This is Bilbo Baggins, the Burglar of my Company who helped us reclaim Erebor and saved the line of Durin.” The King gestured at him, which Bilbo took as a clue to bow."‘He has come with his kin, Miss Amaranth Brandybuck and Miss Asphodel Brandybuck.” The two lasses curtsied.

The Steward bowed before Bilbo, to the hobbit’s shock. "The Blue Mountains welcome you, hero of Erebor. We have prepared quarters for you and your companions. One of my guards, Pór -” He gestured at one of the soldiers standing near, who stepped forward and bowed, offering his services. "- will show you the way. He will be at your disposal throughout your stay as your guide.”

Just as this was said, Pór told the hobbits to follow him. And so, Bilbo, Amaranth and Asphodel thus found themselves dismissed, as their guide already began heading away. Bilbo scarcely had the time to truly realise the Steward’s surprising hospitality. Indeed, the welcome extended towards them was in opposition to how they had been treated by the dwarves during the journey. Bilbo could not help but wonder why the Steward had received them so generously and whether his motives were genuine. Perhaps, he mused, just as the King had ordered him to accompany the Misses Brandybuck to ensure a better travelling experience for them, he had bidden the Steward to ensure the lasses had the most pleasant stay possible.

After all, Thorin was capable of going to unbelievable lengths for those he held dear.

Bilbo and his cousins were led to their quarters on the third floor above the ground of the Hall, which consisted of three separate bedrooms, a high-ceiling common room with a large oak table (already set with food) and massive chairs, and a washroom with a bath and a privy. The lodging was lit with candles and oil lamps, and boar skins were laid out on the floor as carpets.

"Oh but this is so odd!” Asphodel said once Pór took his leave after having shown them around. "To live so deep under stone, so far away from sunlight and soil. I must say that I feel ill at ease.”

"This is not an environment I’d consider comforting enough to call home,” her sister said.

"Still a fine accommodation as it is,” Bilbo said, which both of them agreed with, though he shared their sentiment.

Weary as they were after their travel, the hobbits decided to refresh themselves. To their joy and astonishment, they discovered that there was running warm water in the washroom, which allowed each of them to take a splendid, relaxing bath. After that, they changed into clean clothes and sat down to eat dinner at the table in the common room.

"The Steward called you the Hero of Erebor,” Amarnath said to Bilbo during the meal. "And King Thorin said you saved the line of Durin. When you told us about your big adventure, you never mentioned having done that.”

A bright red blush coloured Bilbo’s cheeks. With no small degree of embarrassment, he explained to his cousins that, during the Battle of the Five Armies, he prevented the sworn enemy of the King - the White Orc, Azog the Defiler - from delivering a fatal blow to King Thorin’s chest by wounding the orc himself. Then, he recounted to them how he had protected the King’s nephews from being slain at the hands of Azog’s son, Bolg, when he had led the two princes away from the deathly trap prepared by the orc.

"Goodness me,” Amaranth said, "Now I’m no longer surprised why dwarves seek you out so! By all means, you are indeed a hero among them.”

"Please do not call me that. I so dislike when they call me that!” Bilbo cried. "I’m no hero. I merely did the only thing that could be done, and that is all. I protected my friends, who happened to be the King and his heirs. Who would not try to protect their friends? There’s no heroism to my actions.”

"Still, it must have taken a great deal of courage to do what you did,” Asphodel said, "And in battle, no less. Do not sell yourself so short, Bilbo.”

Bilbo remained greatly displeased. As soon as it was not rude to do so, he bid his cousins good evening and retired for the night.

The next day, Bilbo and Misses Brnadybuck were awoken by hunger in the early morning. They ate a hearty breakfast of hams, cheeses, bread and mead that they found prepared at the table in their common room, though they were not happy to discover that tea was absent among the refreshments provided. After all, they had not had a warm cup of tea for over a week now, as there were no resources to brew it during the journey, and the tea-deprivation was starting to become a serious ailment.

"Could we purchase tea here somewhere, Bilbo?” Amaranth said. "Do dwarrow have marketplaces in their dwellings?”

Bilbo, having only been to one ruined dwarrow dwelling before this, was in fact not sure. He and his cousins therefore decided to find this out and try to buy some tea, as well as parchment, ink and quills for letters that they wished to post. With these plans in mind, they finished their meal, sent for their guide, and prepared to leave.

Pór arrived soon after the hobbits were all ready to head outside. When they asked the dwarf to be shown to a marketplace, he told them that there was one outside of the Mountains - a large yard designed to be a market, called Frenin’s Court - but it was not market day. Thankfully, he was kind enough to lead them to a parchmenter’s workshop, then to a herbalist, where they were overjoyed to find quite a few varieties of tea. Once the hobbits made all the purchases they needed, Bilbo thought to use Pór’s knowledge of the place and inquire after his dwarven friends, for he wished to talk to them as soon as possible.  

"Master dwarf, perhaps you would know,” he said, "Where does Seis and his wife live?”

Pór measured the hobbit with a look of distrust. "I do not see how that is any of your business, master hobbit.”

Bilbo nearly expressed his indignation at this show of distrust but he just in time realised that it might have stemmed from his mention of Umí, given how protective dwarrow were of their women.

"I assure you that I have no ill intentions,” he replied. "Seis and his wife have been my dear friends for years now, and his wife has shared her name with me.”

Pór did not appear convinced by Bilbo’s words, so the hobbit added, "I can swear on the name of King Thorin himself that I speak the truth.”

"I do not know where they live,” the dwarf said, at last placated, "But I know where they work.’

"Could you be so kind as to show me where that is?”

Pór agreed. Amaranth and Asphodel - who had heard of Seis and Umí from Bilbo but never had the chance to meet the dwarrow couple in person - decided to accompany Bilbo. The three hobbits were led by Pór a few levels down below the ground level. The lower they descended, the louder the sounds of hammers hitting anvils became, until they reached the entrance to what looked like a large, communal smithy. The workshop was busy and loud, with numerous smiths working at the same time, and the heat from the furnaces was hotter than the relentless summer sun.

Pór went to fetch Seis and Umí, asking them to wait outside, which the hobbits were greatly thankful for. A short while later, he returned together with the couple, both dressed in working attire.

"Bilbo!” Seis exclaimed at the sight of the hobbit. "It really is you! When I heard that some hobbits had come with the King and someone mentioned your name, I thought that surely they got it all wrong!”

Bilbo could not help but smile, happy and relieved to see his friends whole and hale. "Indeed they didn’t. I am here, as you see.”

Seis and Umí expressed their surprise and joy at his coming and both welcomed the hobbit with warm smiles and clasps on the arm. Introductions between Bilbo’s cousins and his dwarrow friends followed.

"But this is most unusual!” Umí said. "What brings three hobbits all the way to the Blue Mountains?”

"Amaranth and I have always wanted to go adventuring like Bilbo,” Asphodel said, "And then the perfect opportunity presented itself when King Thorin stayed with us in the Shire for a few days. He invited us to come along with him here.”

"Did he indeed? Now that must be quite a story,” the dwarrowdam remarked, "I’d love to hear all about it. How about you visit us for dinner tomorrow? Say, six o’clock?”

Bibo and Misses Brandynuck accepted the invitation most gladly. Once this was settled, the hobbits and the dwarrow couple exchanged goodbyes and parted ways. Bilbo, Amaranth and Asphodel returned to their quarters and had scones for elevensies. Then, all three of them sat at the table in the common room and started writing letters to their loved ones to inform them of their arrival and to describe their travels. They scribbled quietly until a knock on the door was heard.

Their visitor turned out to be Lady Dís.

"Master Baggins, Miss Amaranth and Asphodel,” she said after entering the common room, ‘I mean to pass an invitation for you. The Steward wishes to dine with you tomorrow at seven o’clock.”

"Please pass our sincere thanks to him,” Bilbo said, "But I’m afraid we will be unable to attend.”

"Why is that?"

"We have other engagements."

"Master Baggins, it is insulting to decline his invitation. Whatever other engagements you have, I’m sure they can be postponed.”

"I’m afraid not. I’m calling on my dear friends together with Amaranth and Asphodel, and I would rather not postpone our meeting.”

"Be that as it may, they cannot be of more consequence than your host.”

"They are to me.”

"Is that so? Do please tell me their names, for they must be most worthy dwarrow.”

"It’s Seis and his wife, my lady, if you must know.”

"Seis, son of Aris?”

"The very same, I believe. The one whose father was of immense contribution in the building of this settlement.”

"Aye, that was his father, but who is Seis? His significance is all thanks to his father, and he has done nothing to earn a name of his own.”

"I refuse to accept you speak of him with disregard, my lady. To me, Seis and his wife are very good friends and truly worthy dwarrow. If you please, kindly pass on my apologies to the Steward and say that I propose to reschedule the dinner for the same time on the day after tomorrow.”

And so Lady Dís took her leave, with her demeanour showing undisputed signs of outrage.

"Are you sure declining is wise, Bilbo?” Amaranth said.

"It may not be, but I am decided. I do apologize to you, though,” he told his cousins. "I will do what I can not to let this affect their opinion of you.”

"Well, dinner with the Steward surely can wait one more day,” Asphodel said. "He did wait with arranging a meeting with us; he cannot be exceptionally eager to develop our acquaintance much.”

Bilbo withheld from sharing his suspicions: that the Steward and the rest of the dwarves in Ered Luin were most likely busy with a feast that was probably about to be held, somewhere deeper within the Halls, to celebrate the King’s arrival and above all, the reason for it - the precious twins the Steward and his wife had been blessed with.

The hobbits were not allowed to truly know that, of course, and Bilbo was more than grateful for the privilege of having had Lady Dís explain the situation to him. Still, bound to secrecy as he was, he remained silent and returned to writing his letter to Primula, but he quickly found that he could no longer focus on the task. The hobbit had become disequilibrated by Lady Dís's anger and worried about whether her reaction to his rejection of the Steward's invitation signalled damage to their friendship, which he had already come to value dearly.

To calm himself, Bilbo had a smoke while his cousins continued to write. Amaranth finished before her sister and, after taking a good look at Bilbo, she asked if something was troubling him. He told her about his worries regarding Lady Dís, to which she replied, "Well, have you considered that it's not that serious? I imagine that she's used to getting her way, as King Thorin's sister. Perhaps your refusal was just unusual and only her pride is damaged."

"Quite a feat, too, to refuse her," Asphodel chimed in. "She was so scary and yet you stood your ground. It's no surprise that you had the courage to face the dragon!"

At that, Bilbo chuckled. "Actually, it's the other way around," he said. "I had the courage to refuse her because I had faced the dragon."

Chapter Text

The dinner with Seis and Umí was for the most part a merry, engaging affair. The dwarrow couple invited Bilbo’s cousins into their home and life with the same openness and eagerness as they had previously done with Bilbo. The three hobbits even received the honour of being introduced to Seis and Umi’s daughter, Semí, together with her husband and newborn child.

The dwarves and the hobbits shared a hearty meal and exchanged many stories. Seis and his family were all extremely keen to learn about Buckland, as they had never travelled to those parts of the Shire, and the misses Brandybuck were more than happy to satisfy their curiosity. Then, Amaranth and Asphodel asked many questions in return which concerned a wide range of inquiries: from how dwarrow could withstand lack of sun, through how the ingenious plumbing system in Thorin’s Halls worked, to the general rules of dwarven social gatherings. When Bilbo’s cousins were engaged in a conversation with Semí and her husband about their little babe, Bilbo decided the circumstances were favourable enough to talk with his two friends a touch more privately.

“I was not aware that your daughter was wed and bore a child,” he said quietly.

“Aye,” Seis replied, “Much has changed since the last time we visited you in the Shire.” A pained expression twisted his face. “One of those things, I cannot speak of, for it hurts me too much. Yet, I must apologize to you, Bilbo. It was not respectful to leave you in the dark like we did, when we had made the arrangements to take you here. You have been a dear friend to us, and you did nothing to deserve us not passing a word of explanation to you. If you would be so gracious as to hear an explanation, albeit a poor one, then let me only say that grief has overshadowed our life since last winter, and we have not been able to come to terms with what happened.”

Bilbo accepted the apology with the same anxiety he felt when hearing Lady Yani talk about her lost One. His fear that the dwarrowdam and his dwarrow friends were struck by the same exact tragedy was nearing certainty now.

“Semi’s betrothal and little one have been a true blessing in these times,” Umí said. “Without this, I’m not sure how we would’ve managed.” Tears shone in her eyes. “We lost Jûnis, Bilbo. Our precious boy, gone, attacked by a stray warg pack when he was travelling back from Dale. He had made that journey a few times before because his wares sold very well there, and always returned to Erebor safely. Yet, that day... he was wounded too gravely.”

“No,” Bilbo gasped. His head was almost spinning.

“Unknown are Mahal’s designs,” she said wetly. “He giveth and taketh as he sees fit, but his will is so harsh at times.”

Her husband grasped her hand on the table and held it tight. Bilbo’s heart broke from the grief he felt for them. As soon as he could express it, he offered his most genuine condolences. Later, when the hobbits were leaving after the dinner had run its course, with his heart beating wildly in his chest from fear of crossing several significant boundaries, Bilbo dared to lean his forehead against Seis’s. He had seen dwarves of the Company share this gesture as - what he had deduced to be - an act of familial affection. The hobbit thought it a fitting way to convey his sympathy for his dwarven friend, although he simultaneously worried that he had overstepped greatly.

His worry quickly proved to be unfounded, as Seis reacted with fierce gratitude. He pressed his forehead to Bilbo’s with force that nearly caused the hobbit to tumble and whispered his sincere thanks.

Moved almost to tears, Bilbo shared the same gesture with Umí, who told him, “Heart of mithril, you have got, Bilbo Baggins.”

Their acceptance and appreciation warmed the hobbit’s heart immensely and he could not stop smiling indulgently for a good while after he left their home with Amaranth and Asphodel.

The next day, the Steward accepted Bilbo’s proposal and invited the hobbits to dine with him in the evening. In comparison to the dinner with Seis’s family, the meal with the Steward was nothing but dull. The ruler of Thorin’s Halls asked the hobbits a few polite questions but was not particularly interested in their answers. The conversation at Hovin’s grand table was stilted and lacklustre at best, with King Thorin, Lady Dís and Lady Yani, also present, being the ones who truly made an effort to hold any sort of engaging discussion with Bilbo and his cousins. There was only one outcome of that evening that was truly worth of note: King Thorin and his sister, at the request of Misses Brandybuck, agreed to take a long walk with them outside the Mountains the following morning.

As established, the King and his sister and her lady-in-waiting, together with four guards, met with the hobbits early the next day. Amaranth and Asphodel had asked to be shown to the shore of the small river they had passed on their way before arriving at Thorin’s Halls. The distance to that river - Little Lune, which had its springs in the Blue Mountains and was the source of drinking water for the inhabitants of the Halls, King Thorin said - was only a few miles. Their small party walked there for rather long, however, due to the stony, rolling terrain.

Once they reached Little Lune, Amaranth and Asphodel were overjoyed. True Brandybucks as they were, they had no fear of larger bodies of water and actually gravitated towards them. The two misses rushed to the riverside, insistent that they must dip their feet in the crystal, rushing water of Little Lune. As they did so, the considerable strength of the river’s current surprised them, nearly making them fall into the water.

Asphodel laughed with delight. “Oh, Brandywine’s strongest stream is nothing compared to this, how incredible!”

“The water is freezing, too, nothing like I’ve ever felt!” Amaranth said with awe. “Bilbo, have you ever seen such a cold, powerful river?”

“I have, actually,” Bilbo said from the bank. The hobbit did escape Thranduil’s Halls in a barrel together with the Company, flowing down the merciless, icy stream of the Forest River. “And you both should get back here soon, before you tire from the cold and the current and the water takes you.”

The two lasses listened to Bilbo’s advice eventually, although their idea of returning to the shore involved first hopping on all the large stones which protruded from the surface of the river. After they made this roundabout return to their party, Amaranth and Asphodel wished to know how a river could flow with this much force, which King Thorin readily explained.

While his cousins talked with the King, Bilbo himself was by the side of Lady Yani, the two of them discussing their stay in Ered Luin so far. Bilbo made no mention of his meeting with Seis and his family, and the dwarrowdam did not ask about it either even though the hobbit suspected she had been made aware of it by Lady Dís. Understanding the family of her lost One had to be an extremely painful subject for her, he did not raise it. When their conversation ceased, they stood together in companionable silence. Bilbo rather enjoyed the quiet between them; he felt at ease to let his thoughts wander to the Blue Mountains looming before them.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, Master Baggins,” Lady Yani spoke after a short while.

Bilbo was taken aback by her comment, for he did not realise that his pleasant mood showed do clearly. Flustered, he said, “Indeed I am, my lady. This is a fine morning for a walk like this, and the views here fill me with joy, the Mountains especially.”

“You like mountains, then?”

“Very much so. I have missed them, in fact, and now that I see them, they really please my eye. Blue Mountains aren’t the Misty Mountains and the Lonely Mountain, which I long to see the most, but they still possess the beauty of all mountains and I’m very glad to be able to behold it again.”

“Say, Master Hobbit, what is the beauty of mountains?”

“Well, their beauty is in the way their snowy peaks reflect the light of the sun. It is in all their different contours and edges, the multitude and diversity of which only the Valar could have conceived, and in their sheer, breathtaking size.”

At that, Lady Yani chuckled. “Your view on the beauty of mountains, Master Baggins, is certainly that which a dwarrow would not hold.”

“How so?”

“You see, although the way mountains look from the outside is undeniably breathtaking, it is nothing compared to the beauty which mountains possess on the inside. The stone itslef may be of so many various hues and textures, and the veins of metals running through it create the most fascinating of patterns. The underground streams and lakes carve out caves and corridors with endlessly different stone drips. And the precious stones, Master Baggins! Oh, the way they shine in torchlight! I wish you could admire mountains this way too, see how stunning the true richness of them is!”

Bilbo listened to her with rapt attention, charmed by her passion. “The beauty of mountains is truly endless, then, is it not?”  

“Now you are thinking like a dwarrow!” the dwarrowdam said with a warm laugh.

This remark uplifted Bilbo’s mood even more: he laughed heartily, and his whole demeanour brightened with joy and contentment. Indeed, he looked remarkably well - his eyes shone merrily, and his complexion gained a lovely glow thanks to his high spirits and the exercise of their long walk. With a spring in his step and a handsome smile on his face, the hobbit drew the attention of those around him.

When their party was heading back inside Thorin’s Halls, many dwarves moved to the side to allow them to enter through the Front Gate uninterrupted, and all took a bow before the King as he walked past them. When their party began ascending the stairs which led to the level where the hobbit’s accommodation was located, at the top of the stairs, a finely dressed dwarf with smooth auburn hair halted his steps and waited for the King to pass first, bowing to him. Then, as he beheld Bilbo, he froze in clear shock. In his gaze, there was such immense and unguarded admiration that the hobbit could not dismiss it. King Thorin looked back at Bilbo instantly which showed his noticing of it and, for a blink of an eye, his expression revealed a mix of emotions that was impossible to decipher for the short time it was observable.

“Who was the lord we passed at the top of the stairway?” King Thorin said soon after, when they headed to the hobbits’ quarters.

“Why, brother, what was it about him that caught your interest?” Lady Dís said teasingly, earning herself an annoyed glare from her brother which only she was ever the recipient of.

“He seemed familiar,” he said.

“Of course,” she remarked with innocence, which caused him to look at her in a way downright murderous.

“It is no wonder that he looked familiar to you, Your Majesty,” Lady Yani said. “I believe his name is Loar, son of lord Limar. Loar takes after his father a great deal.”

“Thank you, Yani,” the King said. “He is a near spitting image of Limar.”

Unable to stifle his curiosity, Bilbo murmured to Lady Yani, “Who is lord Limar, if I may ask?”

“A new member of the Steward’s Council - he’s replaced the retired administrator of these Halls.”

The hobbit’s curiosity was not satiated by this information but alas, there was no opportunity for him to learn more: they arrived at the door to the hobbit’s quarters, and the King and his dwarrow companions took their leave. Once alone, Bilbo and his cousins decided to refresh themselves and rest. Later, they headed to the market at Frerin’s Court, guided by Pór. While they were en route and still in the Halls, they happened to come face to face with Loar again. Although this encounter was as brief as the first one, Loar looked upon Bilbo in the same spellbound manner and apologised for being in the way most politely.

Bilbo, now assured beyond doubt that his looks had charmed a dwarf, thought to himself that this surely had to be the most unexpected thing to come out of this adventure!

Chapter Text

Throughout the following days, Bilbo and his cousins found themselves delightfully busy. When they were not occupied with exploring Thorin’s Halls with the guidance of Master Pór and correspondence with loved ones, they enjoyed social calls. Seis and his family sought the hobbits particularly often and invited them for shared meals almost daily.

"It’s so good to have you around, Bilbo,” Umí told the hobbit one evening over dinner, "A truly kind turn of fate, indeed. We’re glad to spend time with you now; once we leave for Erebor, we’re not sure if we shall ever return to these Mountains.”

"Leave for Erebor?” Bilbo said, shocked.

"Aye, we wish to travel there with the King, once he sets off to return to the Lonely Mountain.”

“We could make a better living there,” Seis said, "And once we settle down comfortably enough, Semi and her family could join us, so that her little one would lack nothing as he grows.” With bottomless sadness in his eyes, he added, “Jûnis had these same intentions in mind when he moved to Erebor. He wanted to carve out a place in that kingdom not only for himself, of course, but for us too, and now that he rests there... We wish to honour his plans.”

With this new knowledge, Bilbo cherished the time he spent with his friends to the best of his ability and was keen on sharing as many a meal with them as possible. To his dismay, other engagements which he and his cousins were obliged to attend deprived him of the company of Seis’s family.

The engagements in question were not to be disregarded, however, for it was the King himself who had them accompany him and brought the hobbit lasses and Bilbo with him on any occasion when he ventured outside of the Halls, which came to be surprisingly often. If he did not have to inspect something outside of the Mountains - such as the crop fields or newly improved mills - then he would wish to visit the market with them, or simply show them some of the parts of the Blue Mountains they had not yet seen. Privately, Bilbo suspected that King Thorin did all this for the benefit of Misses Brandybuck, who delighted in all the excursions and new adventures. Bilbo himself - apart from the fact that he would rather spend his time with Seis and Umí - found the outings enjoyable enough. At times, he even truly liked them. For that, Lady Yani should be credited, as she was present together with Lady Dís at many of those outings and it was her company that mostly made the whole business worth Bilbo’s while. The King’s sister, too, began to entertain Bilbo with conversation as willingly as she had used to before their quarrel about Seis.

And so days passed. On the fortnight of the hobbits’ stay in Thorin’s Halls, King Thorin’s departure began to be planned. Two days later, it was decided that King and his convoy, enlarged by those from the Blue Mountains who wished to leave with their King, were to depart for Erebor in five days.

In the afternoon on the fourth day before the scheduled departure, King Thorin found the time to bring Amaranth and Asphodel to the Little Lune; the hobbit lasses longed to see the river one more time and the King was as accomidating for their wishes as ever. Bilbo went together with them of course, as well as four guards. The King’s sister and her lady-in-waiting joined them too, for Lady Dís claimed that there was something she wanted to discuss with Bilbo.

The day was hot but at the hour they set out, the Blue Mountains cast a deep, blisful shadow over their route. When Little Lune came into view, Amaranth and Asphodel sprung ahead, almost breaking into a jog, King Thorin sure to follow. Bilbo did not make the same haste and eventually found himself at the tail of their group, where the two dwarrow ladies kept pace with him.

"Master Baggins,” Lady Dís said, "Do you perhaps remember Loar, son of Limar? We passed by him once, by the top of a stairway.”

"I remember him, yes.” A pink blush coloured Bilbo’s cheeks. He happened to have a perfect recollection of Loar, for he revisited the memory of his two brief encounters with the dwarf many a time.

"You might be interested in knowing that he has expressed a wish to be introduced to you.”

"Has he?”

"Aye. Last night we dined with the Steward and Loar’s father, and Loar was also present. He inquired about you and asked for an introduction to you. Would you be opposed to it?”

"I - well. I would not be opposed at all, of course - ”

"Excellent. Shall we arrange it for the morrow, if that would not to be too much trouble?”

"I don’t see why not -”

Having received this confirmation, Lady Dís excused herself to join her brother ahead, leaving the dazed hobbit in the company of Lady Yani. Bilbo could scarcely shake the shock of what had just occurred. He struggled to understand what was the reason why Loar would go to such lengths to form an acquaintance with him, and why had Lady Dís been so insistent on it. Surely, he thought, a passing fancy the dwarf might have developed for him could not have stirred a need for a relation. What could be the dwarf’s true intentions? Lastly, what gain could there be for Lady Dís in devoting her effort to this situation?

"My lady,” Bilbo said to Lady Yani once he regained the ability to speak, "Do you perhaps know Loar personally?”

"I do indeed. His family and mine have been acquainted for a long time. I’ve known him since my youth, although we never shared a close friendship.”

"I see. What is he like?”

"I’ve always found him to be of inquisitive mind. He’s been open to the world from a young age and has become well-travelled.”  

"Not the worst acquaintance to have, then.”

"Certainly. I believe you shall take a liking to him, Master Baggins.”

"Lady Dís agrees with you on the matter, does she not?

"So it seems. I’m certain this introduction will be most beneficial if my lady is so in favour of it.”

Lady Yani’s opinions put Bilbo at ease. If Loar was as open-minded as she claimed, then it was no wonder that he would wish to know a hobbit. And as far as Lady Dís was concerned, he decided, she had to have his best interest in mind.

Thus assured, Bilbo was able to enjoy their last excursion to Little Lune. The river made a most lovely sight, its torrent shining like the purest crystal. With a smile, the hobbit beheld the happiness of his cousins, who walked ankles deep into the river’s stream and rejoiced at the feel of the icy water cooling them. After a while, he cut their amusement short and urged them to leave the water quickly lest they expose themselves to the cold for too long. Amaranth and Asphodel teased him, calling him a kill-joy, but complied. Instead of returning ashore, however, the lasses indulged in their play of hopping on stones porturding from the river surface.

"Oh, must you two do this every time?” Bilbo exclaimed.

"Why, yes!” Asphodel said. "It’s great fun!”

"We certainly do not share the same definition of fun,” he grumbled.

Amaranth laughed. "I’m sure you wouldn’t be so grumpy if you tried it yourself. It’s terribly exciting!”

"Terribly dangerous, I think you mean.”

"I agree with Master Baggins,” King Thorin chimed in, “Do take caution.”

"If you worry about getting wet again, King Thorin, do not.” Amaranth grinned teasingly, took a large leap forward and landed on a steep side of a large rock with grace.

Asphodel followed her sister and jumped on the same rock but her landing was not so graceful and her foot accidentally slipped. She swayed, very nearly falling into the water flat on her back. At the last moment, Amaranth caught her by the waist in such a swift forward movement that she lost her own balance, fell onto the rock and below the surface of the rushing water.

With a cry of terror, Asphodel grabbed Amaranth by the ankles. Then, after some panicked struggle, she managed to pull Amaranth - who coughed and moaned in pain - on top of the rock.

"There’s blood!” she shrieked. "She’s bleeding!”

Hearing this, King Thorin started heading into the river at once.

"Thorin!” Bilbo called, causing the dwarf to stop in his tracks. "Do not go in by yourself, the current may trip you over! I’ll come with you and you can hold onto my hand.”

"You alone won’t be able to secure me,” he replied, "I won’t risk you being taken by the water.”

"Then your men will hold me and I shall hold you!” The hobbit stared at the guards expectantly. "Quickly, now!”

"Do as he says,” the King barked and the guards obeyed.

Amaranth was rescued out of the river in the manner Bilbo proposed. The guards formed a line, two of them ashore and two in the water, holding onto each other, and the last of them held Bilbo, while the hobbit gripped King Thorin by the hand to steady him. The King used his hand to reach for Amaranth and take her into his arms. Once he carried her to the shore, he returned for Asphodel. When both misses were on the firm ground, everyone gathered around Amaranth and quickly noticed that she had sustained a wound to her side from which blood was seeping.

"Send for a healer at once!” Bilbo cried.  

King Thorin did so without hesitation. He bade two of the guards to run to the Halls to fetch help. In the meantime, Bilbo ordered to lay Amaranth on Thorin’s furcoat and put his own jacket on top of her so that she would retain her body warmth at least to an extent. Asphodel, half-crazed with fear, pressed at her sister’s bleeding wound while Amaranth coughed out the water she had involuntarily swallowed. Lady Dís and Lady Yani tore long strips from their garments and used the pieces of clothing as a makeshift bandage with which they dressed Amaranth’s injury.

Despite their efforts, Amaranth’s state was deteriorating. When she began shivering and losing consciousness, they all realised that there was no time to waste. At the risk of aggravating any unseen injuries Amaranth could have suffered, they decided to carry her to the Halls with the hope of encountering the healers on the way.

This is indeed what happened: around halfway back, their group met with the two guards, now carrying a stretcher, accompanied by two healers. Amaranth was swiftly secured on the stretcher and was taken to the sick ward, where two other healers - Master Hyll and Master Ovet, said to be some of the best in the Blue Mountains - took her under their diligent care. Not long after, she was lying unconscious covered with warm furs, in dry clothes, her wound cleaned and redressed.

"This is all we can do for now,” Master Hyll said. "The miss needs time to recover from the shock and blood loss; this was a close call. If she does not wake for a long time, we will give her some fluids.”

Before midnight, Amaranth opened her eyes to the five worried faces of her sister, her cousin, King Thorin, Lady Dis and Lady Yani. The healers, upon examining her, proclaimed that danger was not yet averted and cautioned them to restrain their hopes until Amaranth made a full recovery, which they anticipated to happen in between a fortnight to a month.

Until midday, Amaranth’s state could give hope to anyone - she was weak but her spirits were high and she only complained of mild fever. On the healers’ recommendation, she was transferred to her own bed in her room and only her two family members were allowed to watch over her, which seemed to have a positive impact on her well-being. Yet, by the evening, her tiredness and fever both grew considerably more concerning. A heavy cough began bothering her and she quickly became short of breath. A day after waking, her condition was more grave than after her accident.

Master Hyll and Ovet used all known means to help her. First, they performed a special manoeuvre on her to evacuate the water accumulated in her lungs, which they said was the cause of most of her symptoms. Second, she was given herbal teas in case an infection developed in her wound. Then, cool compresses were placed on her forehead, belly and ankles to combat the fever. All these steps did not yield any notable improvement, however.

"Our family must be informed,” Bilbo said at an early hour of the morning, as Amaranth tossed and turned, struggling to breathe, tormented by the endless cough and stubborn fever.

Asphodel burst into tears. "I so hate that you’re right! You’ve been right all along! Oh Bilbo, we shouldn’t have come. I should’ve listened to you when you said how dangerous adventures were! How I wish he hadn’t come to Little Lune, and the Blue Mountains at all!”

Bilbo gathered her into his arms, barely keeping his own tears at bay. "I am truly loath to leave you like this but they should not hear it from anyone but me.”

He held her while she sobbed with despair that tore Bilbo’s heart to pieces. When she calmed slightly, she said, "Do go, Bilbo. It would be cruel to keep them in the dark.”

And so, Bilbo sent a message to King Thorin informing him about his imminient departure, for which the King promised to make arrangements. In the meantime, Bilbo prepared and packed for the road in a rush. When he was ready, he returned to Amaranth’s room. He embraced Ashodel again, who was shedding fresh tears, and exchanged with her words of comfort that rang rather false.

Then, Bilbo sat at the edge of Amaranth’s bed and committed the sight of her to his memory. The lass seemed to be sleeping now and a good thing that was, for she appeared exhausted. Her lovely hair was matted and her sickly pale skin was covered with a sheen of sweat. Reluctantly, Bilbo shook her by the shoulder to gain her attention. When she looked at him, he was glad to see that there was enough clarity of thought in her eyes. "I’m so very sorry, Amaranth,” he said, "But I must go now. I shall tell our family that you’re ill.”

"In any case,” Amaranth murmured hoarsely, "Give Prim and my parents my love.”

This was when Bilbo’s composure crumbled. He held Amaranth’s hands in his own and wept bitterly, voicing to her all his grief, regret and remorse. Amaranth - as much as she was able to speak - tried to soothe him. "Don’t be so troubled, Bilbo,” she whispered. "Come what may, I’ll always be happy to have shared this adventure with you.”

Needless to say, it took Bilbo a long while to regain his wits. When he was ready to leave (at least as ready as anyone could be, given the situation) he bid his cousins goodbye with a heavy heart. Drying his wet cheeks with the hem of his travelling cloak, he exited their rooms, only to see King Thorin waiting by the door.

“Master Baggins,” he said with concern, “I... Allow me to see you off to the gates, unless you do not want company?”

Bilbo, disequilibreated to the degree that he was, almost shouted at Thorin that he had indeed chosen the only time he would not wish for anyone’s company, even his. In the end, the hobbit mustered a nod of agreement and the two walked together in tense silence. At the ground level, the dwarf suddenly broke the quiet with, "It is my fault. I should have - ’

“You couldn’t have predicted it. No one could.”

Bilbo might have replied so to pacify the King’s guilt or his own; he himself would not be able to tell what was more true. After all, he had been appointed as his cousins’ guardian - their safety and comfort had been his responsibility.

Outside of the gates, an escort of seven dwarrow waited with Bilbo’s pony, already saddled and ready for the road. Bilbo was not truly able to ponder this considerate and generous gesture much; worry weighed on his mind too heavily.

Having mounted his pony, he asked of the King, "Will you please see them taken care of?”

"You have my word, Master Baggins. I will deliver them back to the Shire, whole and hale.”

The hobbit heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

"Think nothing of it. I shall remain here and have them both tended to until Miss Amaranth recovers, as long as it may take.”

Overcome, Bilbo could find no words to express his gratitude and tried to convey the emotion with a look at the King, who returned his gaze. For a moment, the two only looked at each other. If Bilbo did not know any better, he would assume that Thorin was nervous; the dwarf appeared anxious and his lips moved, as if silently forming the hobbit’s name. Then, something below Bilbo’s face caught his attention and his eyes widened.

"You’re wearing it,” he whispered with wonderment.  

Confused, Bilbo looked down at where Thorin’s gaze was directed and instantly, cold shock gripped him. In his haste, he had not dressed carefully enough to conceal his mirhtil shirt beneath his clothing. The minute, bright hoops of the chainmail now shone from undernath his half-unbottoned shirt, visible for anyone to see.

The hobbit hardly knew how to react. He wondered if he should address the fact that he had become aware of the value of mithril. Dared he ask what had been the King’s true motivation in giving him something such a precious gift? Could he admit to having so foolishly fantasized that the immense worth of the shirt reflected the regard that Thorin might have held for him? Was now the only opportunity to confess the regret, longing, and endless love he harboured in his heart?

Bilbo felt the words of truth pressing against the inside of his lips, demanding to be said, but fear continously pushed them away from release and down his throat. The hobbit fought an internal battle for what seemed to him to be far too long. One moment, he was absolutely sure he was about to tell Thorin everything. A moment later, dread so pure filled him that the thought of revealing his feelings was inconceivable. His rapid heartbeat almost deafened him; his hands on the pony’s reins trembled.

Then, Bilbo gazed into the brilliant blue of Thorin’s eyes and all within him stilled.

"Why would I not wear it? I cherish this gift, Thorin. Far above all my other possessions.”

Thorin looked struck by these words and stared at him as though he saw him anew. The change in the dwarf spooked Bilbo even more than having just uttered a part of the truth. So unsettled was the hobbit, in fact, that without a second thought, he bid the King goodbye and spurred his pony forward, leaving Thorin’s Halls behind.

Barely sparing the Mountains a glance, Bilbo rode to the Shire as fast as his conscience allowed him to push his pony. The hobbit resisted all thoughts about Thorin, for they could distract him from his current focus - his race against time and the will of the Valar themselves.

Chapter Text

A peaceful hush had fallen over Hobbition as its residents retired for the evening. The harvesting season was nearing its end and all hobbits enjoyed some respite after yet another long day of labouring in their fields and gardens. There was an atmosphere of blissful relief in the air, which was colder now that the sun had settled below the horizon. Nothing but a relaxing sound of birdsong could be heard.

Then, the peace and quiet were suddenly interrupted by the thundering of hooves on the road of Bagshot Row. The agitating noise rose the residents of Hobbiton from their well-deserved rest. When they went outside their smials to inspect who was causing the ruckus, they saw none other than Master Baggins himself, racing towards Bag End at incredible speed together with seven dwarrow.

Master Baggins reached the Shire in the record time of three days since his departure from Thorin’s Halls. The neck-breaking haste he had made did seem to take its toll on him; his clothing was in disarray, his hair windswept, and there were prominent dark circles under his eyes. Despite his state, he paid no heed to anything or anyone around him and rushed to his smial. Once he reached the front garden of Bag End, he jumped from his pony and stormed through the round green door, leaving his neighbours - who had all been watching his arrival - utterly flabbergasted.

What occurred in Bag End soon after should hardly be spoken of. Let it only be known that Bilbo - who believed himself to have experienced a degree of shock, fear and grief to equal what a member of Amaranth’s nearest and dearest would feel - was still unprepared for the reaction of the lass’s family at the news of her accident and severe condition. The way in which Primula, her husband and child, as well as her parents (who Bilbo knew from his correspondence with Primula had been visiting Bag End) received the grim information haunted Bilbo for a long time.

Throughout the following days, no laughter could be heard in the numerous rooms and corridors of Bag End. Although the smial now housed more hobbits than ever before, it was grimly silent. The family ate their meals quietly, only saying what was necessary in murmurs, received no visitors and hardly went outside. Such a drastic and unexpected change arose curiosity and concern within the Hobbiton community, thus it was not long until callers knocked on the green door. To the dismay of everyone, however, nobody was invited for tea or even allowed inside, with the sole exception of the Gamgees.

The ninth day since Master Baggin’s arrival brought a change: a raven with a roll of parchment attached to its leg landed on the fence of Bag End.

The note was written by King Thorin II Oakenshield himself. In it, he informed of an improvement in Amaranth’s condition. The lass seemed to have survived the worst, it said. She had fallen ill with pneumonia but her healers had been tending to her most diligently and their efforts had borne fruit. Amaranth no longer suffered from dangerously high fever or suffocating cough. Her symptoms had subsided enough for the healers to conclude that Amaranth’s full recovery was a real possibility. She remained bed-bound and the infection in her lungs was yet to be overcome but King Thorin ended his note with words of reassurance.

This news breathed hope into the hearts of everyone in Bag End. The gloomy, oppressive silence ruled the smial no more, and its rooms resounded with all sounds of life. The family also resumed their social life. They began to speak of Amaranth’s situation to hobbits other than the Gamgees, at last quenching the thirst for knowing just what had been happening that so many hobbits of the Shire had struggled to stifle. Once the truth was discovered, it caused quite a scandal. In the whole of Hobbiton and beyond, everyone could hardly contain their shock and pity. Poor Miss Amaranth, they said. Another one who fell victim to the appeal of adventure! Adventures were such a dangerous business, she really should have known better. Such a shame, such a hardship for the family! How could they have allowed her and her sister to go so far away at all? Truly a disgrace for the Bradybucks to care so little for their own!

The family, thankfully, did not have to focus on the aggravating gossip for long. Three days after the King’s note had been delivered, two letters arriving at Bag End by post - one from Asphodel and the other from Amaranth herself - turned their thoughts fully away from everything insignificant.

Asphodel had written at length about how Amaranth had been feeling since Bilbo’s departure, detailing each day separately and praising the work of her healers. She assured that she and Amaranth had been treated with ceaseless generosity. Then, she mentioned that Lady Dís and Lady Yani devoted a lot of their time to them both, while Seis and his family kept them company as much as they were able. Amaranth penned a much shorter message in which she expressed reassurance that she truly did feel better, gratitude for all the care she had received, her love for all her loved ones, and hope that they should see each other again before the coming of winter.

It was the letters from the Misses that broke the last reserve any of the family might have held. Now that they had had from Amaranth and Asphodel directly, they were truly assured that the worst was behind them. Without lingering doubts or worries, the inhabitants of Bag End felt free to express joy and cheerfulness. On one of these days, when Primula, Drogo, Frodo, Mirabella and Gorbadoc filled the smial with warm voices and laughter, Master Baggins thought to himself that this had to be how his father had planned Bag End to be when he had built it. This provoked him to reflect on the past, present and future, leading him to a conclusion about who should inherit his home and title after his passing. As he made this decision, a feeling of rightness settled in his heart and he knew that he had made the right choice, which he later debated with Drogo and Primula until all parties came to an agreement.

With the vision of tragedy no longer looming over the family, Master Baggins could devote his time to his duties, one of which was finishing the organisation of his upcoming birthday party. Drogo Baggins had already seen to the necessary arrangements: he had completed the guest list, drafted the invitations, chosen gifts for each invited guest (as well as those who were anticipated to assume they were invited and ignore any indications to the contrary) and made preparations for refreshments and seating. Bilbo’s role was thus mainly to review Drogo’s work - which he was pleased to find did not require many corrections - and sign the invitations so that they could be sent.

Before long, the invitations were all delivered and the preparations for the party were truly underway. The Party Tree was decorated with chains of flowers. Around the Tree, tents were raised and tables with chairs placed. Half the Shire near buzzed with anticipation, for that was indeed around the number of hobbits who considered themselves guests to the party. If it was only the friends and relations of Master Baggins, this number would be smaller, but he shared his birthday with little Frodo, thus the lad’s large family from Buckland had also been invited.

Halimath the twenty-second came at last and it was time for Bilbo and Frodo Bagginses’ birthday. Finally, there were delicious drinks, food, and music to enjoy. The guests danced, feasted at the tables, exchanged gossip, and talked about the gifts they had received from Master Baggins. There was also a large crowd of fauntlings, sat before Master Baggins, listening to him recount his adventures. Frodo was the most eager listener among them, demanding details and repetitions from Bilbo, which prompted multiple laughs from the adults witnessing it. Bilbo reacted to the lad’s attitude with fondness, smiling at him lad many a time and ruffling his dark locks.

“You’ve got a strong spirit, dear boy,” Bilbo said to Frodo, having finished the story about the trolls he encountered on the Quest for Erebor, "And a good head on your shoulders, I can already tell. You’ll do well indeed.”

"Do well in what?” the fauntling said, wide-eyed.

"It’s a surprise.”

Frodo gave a happy cry. "A surprise?! What is it? Please tell me!”

"You shall find out in a minute.”

Master Baggins then went to stand in front of the tables and announced that he would like to give a speech, to which the guests responded with an enthusiastic cheer.

"My dear, esteemed hobbits!” he said once everyone gathered close enough to hear him. “It is a joy to host you all here on my fifty-ninth birthday, as well as Frodo’s fifth!” The guests applauded. “I’ve always thought it rather remarkable that we share the same birthday. However, there’s more that me and Frodo shall have in common, for I have an announcement to make: it’s my pleasure to inform everyone that I have decided who shall be my heir, and it is none other than Frodo Baggins!”

The guests gasped, and some even choked on their drink. Shock rippled through the crowd in a wave of furious whispers. So many hopes and dreams had been crushed, so many prospects shattered! Over half the hobbits present believed their families to be entitled to the inheritance of Bag End, for in all their lines there happened to be at least one male more suited to become the head of the Baggins clan than Frodo son of Drogo. How could Master Baggins have picked a second cousin once removed, and one so very young? He had more direct and mature descendants who would fit the role better; it was clear to see that the boy had very little Baggins in him with his strong adventurous streak!

Frodo’s parents had voiced similar concerns when Bilbo had informed them of his intentions.

"Our little boy, the head of the Bagginses!” Drogo had exclaimed. "Why, that is such a heavy burden for such a young faunt. Surely, it’s far too early for him to be chosen!”

"I was a little boy once too,” Bilbo had said, "And my father let me be as carefree as I wished for a long time, and began teaching me everything at a measured pace. I shall like Frodo to learn the same way I did.”

Primula had sighed heavily. “But Bilbo, have you not thought of how adventurous our Frodo is? What if he doesn’t grow out of it? All this responsibility would make him miserable! Please reconsider.”

Bilbo could not be swayed. He wished for Primula and Drogo to live in Bag End with Frodo as the lad grew into the role of his heir. He had seen how much good Bag End had done to them: with a space of their own, Drogo having an occupation and Primula running a household with sufficient resources, the couple had been experiencing a bloom of their marriage. Frodo too, had benefited from it, playing with and becoming greatly attached to the Gamgee children, and vice versa. Despite Bilbo bringing these points to the discussion, Drogo and Primula had refused to accept Bilbo’s choice until a compromise had been reached - Frodo should remain the heir only if he consented to it himself once he was closer to maturity. Should he resign, Bilbo would choose someone else to inherit his home and title.

Only Master Baggins and Frodo’s parents were aware of this agreement. To the public, Master Baggins’s decision appeared as final as it was devastating. The guests at the party did not refrain from voicing their surprise and hurt or even showing their anger. In fact, so great was the outrage of some - the Sackville-Bagginses in particular - that Master Baggins had to all but flee his own birthday celebrations.

The uproar caused by the announcement spread nearly over the whole Shire in the next days. Many more hobbits, after they learned of Master Baggins’s decision, came to disagree with it. The dissent of a few individuals was strong enough for them to pay Master Baggins a visit and try to change his mind. The Master of Bag End did not take kindly to these attempts, for he saw that they were driven by greed, and cut any discussion short firmly, sometimes even harshly.

"I shall tell you right now,” he said to Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, "That Bag End is never going to be given to anybody who feels entitled to it! This smial was a gift of love from my father to my mother and it shall belong to those who will love it for the home it can be, not to those who only desire to boast owning it!”

Master Baggins’s sharp refusal was not met with a favourable response and his relations with the majority of the community turned tense. Drogo, Primula and her parents - who had chosen to remain at Bag End for a while longer given the situation - supported him through it. All of them, and Bilbo especially, did their best to also protect Frodo, shielding him from any cutting remarks or signs of jealousy to the best of their ability.

Amidst all the trouble, the continued correspondence from Amaranth and Asphodel brought Bilbo and his family great comfort. Asphodel had been reporting on her sister’s improvements in healing: Amaranth had regained much of her strength and had even managed to walk to the Front Gate all by herself! Another reason for Asphodel’s excitement was a few new acquaintances she and her sister had made with the patronage of Lady Dís, including Loar son of Limar, whom she described as a most singular dwarf, which Bilbo did not find noteworthy in the slightest, thank you very much. Amaranth, too, wrote about feeling better and meeting new dwarrow - including Limar, who had apparently been keen to know about Bilbo from his cousins - but also kept mentioning taking an interest in weaving and learning the skill under the masterful eye of Lady Yani. The sisters both said in their letters how terribly they missed their family and that they had been trying to convince King Thorin to deliver them home in the next weeks.

Soon after, their efforts seemed to come to fruition: a royal raven yet again perched itself on the fence of Bag End, carrying a note from King Thorin II Oakenshield. The King of Durin folk informed that the healers had cleared Miss Amaranth for the journey back to the Shire and that Misses Brandybuck should be escorted home in a fortnight at the latest.

As Bilbo read King Thorin’s elongated, elegant handwriting, he felt all the love he held for the dwarf with overwhelming force. Dearest, beloved Thorin, who fulfilled his promise, just as Bilbo had been certain he would. The hobbit could hardly think of what to say and do to express his gratitude. With tears in his eyes, he wondered just how he could thank Thorin for all that he had done. Was there any action or gift at all that could accurately convey how Bilbo felt? Should Bilbo simply say it? What should be the course of their next conversation? Is the King going to acknowledge what they had last spoken of? Or should Bilbo?

Deep in his heart, Bilbo already knew what he should do. He realised perfectly well that this might truly be his last chance to see Thorin for the rest of his life. Only one issue remained: how on earth was he going to find the courage to confess his feelings?

Chapter Text

With the day of Misses Brandybuck’s return approaching, the excitement of almost all inhabitants of Bag End grew by the hour, for they simply could not wait to see Amaranth and Asphodel again after so long. The only one who showed a different attitude was the Master of Bag End himself - just as his family’s anticipation increased, so did his apprehension. Though he tried to conceal his nervousness to the best of his ability, his strange mood did not go unnoticed.

Indeed, it would be a feat not to take note: Bilbo had been keeping to himself more than usual, not chatting with anyone for too long, claiming that he had many matters to take care of and spending hours by the desk in his study. When his family members inquired what was wrong, he managed to deflect their concerns by saying that he had had a lot weighing on his mind due to his recent announcement of choosing his heir and that the Sackville-Bagginses were giving him too much grief. Such an explanation worked to appease everyone but Primula.

“You must tell me what is wrong,” she said to Bilbo one evening after delivering him a cup of tea to his study.

Bilbo sighed. “Prim, I’ve already told you - ”

“None of that nonsense, Bilbo. I can see that something troubles you deeply. The Sackville-Bagginses could never bother you to that extent.”

“Well... it is not the Sackville-Bagginses, yes.”

“Then what is it? I’m so worried about you. You’ve hardly spoken to any of us since the last letter from King Thorin came.”

“I do truly appreciate your concern, it’s only that... It’s still something that I find too painful to speak of.”

Primula took Bilbo by the hand. “I wish I could ease whatever is ailing you. I hate to see you like this. You’re almost back to the state you were in after aunt Bella passed.”

“My dear, dear Prim, I’m afraid that nobody can truly help me; my struggle is against the consequences of actions that are only my own and my inability to find the courage to try to undo them.”

“Why, what you’re saying makes no sense to me! You’re by far the bravest hobbit I’ve ever known, the whole Shire has ever known! What could it be that makes you lose courage?”

Bilbo chuckled sadly. “Would you believe me if I said that it’s a matter of the heart?”

It seemed that Primula would indeed find it hard to believe, for she gaped in shock at Bilbo until she remembered himself.

“I suppose the matters of the heart can terrify anyone at all,’ she said. “If it is such a matter, then I may only try to imagine the heartache you’re suffering since you cannot bear to speak of it! Dear Bilbo, surely, there must be something I can do to help you.”

Bilbo did not say anything to that, lost in thought. Primula sighed in resignation and turned to leave the study but Bilbo replied at last.

“Would you confess your love to someone whose heart you have broken, even if there’s no chance of them returning your feelings any longer?”

“Oh Bilbo,” she said softly. Her gaze brimmed with sympathy. “Even if there’s truly no possibility of reciprocation, I think confessing could still bring you relief, could it not? What good does it do to keep this burden in your heart, when it weighs down upon you so? Why not say what you feel for the sake of your peace?”

Her point prompted Bilbo to look at this situation from a new angle. If he revealed to Thorin what he felt, he could finally ease some of the regrets he had struggled with since returning from the Quest. At last, he could put the past behind him to some extent, with the knowledge that Thorin was aware of Bilbo belatedly returning his feelings. Even doing this would be a mistake, Bilbo reasoned that he had already made a mistake when he had rejected Thorin; hardly any error could compare to that.

Thus encouraged, he thanked Primula from the bottom of his heart. For the following days, he was no longer concerned about being able to speak of the matter to Thorin at all. Instead, Bilbo now worried about how to talk with Thorin. In what manner should he start the conversation and what should he say? What words could even convey what he felt? Perhaps it would be easier if he wrote a letter and handed it to Thorin? But could parchment and ink truly contain all that needed to be said?

Before he could decide, however, his time to consider was abruptly over. One early afternoon, Drogo - who had been keeping watch of the High Road from the bench in Bag End’s front garden - gave a cry of joyful surprise.

“They’re coming!” he shouted loud enough for his family inside the smial to hear him.

Everyone in Bag End rushed outside and beheld a company of ten riding on ponies. King Thorin’s unmistakable figure was at the front. Two armed soldiers were behind him. After them, there rode Lady Dís and Lady Yani together with Amaranth and Asphodel. The tail of the party was constituted by three more armed dwarrow.

At the sight of her sisters, Primula all but ran onto and up the High Road with Frodo on her hip. The rest of the family followed her briskly and the two groups met on the dirt path at the top of the Hill. The hobbits of Bag End forwent almost all good manners and only acknowledged the King and the other dwarves briefly before rushing to Amaranth and Asphodel.

Amaranth, thin and pale, grinned happily at the sight of her family, though her smile was rather tired. Asphodel dismounted her pony quickly and helped her sister do the same. As soon as the two were both standing on the ground, they fell into the outstretched arms of their mother and father. Mirabella and Gorbadoc embraced them tightly and both kissed their daughters on their heads. Tearful greetings were then exchanged between Misses Brandybuck and all the rest of the family who had awaited them.

While all this was taking place, King Thorin and his companions waited politely to the side with their ponies. Bilbo, having already hugged his cousins, found his attention drawn to the King. The dwarf noticed the hobbit’s eyes on him and inclined his head in greeting. Bilbo’s heart stuttered. He did not manage to approach the King in time, however, and his sister with her lady-in-waiting were the first to talk to him.

“Master Baggins!” Lady Dís exclaimed jovially. “I’m glad to see you again.”

Bilbo smiled and bowed to her. “Likewise, my lady. I’m very happy to see you as well, Lady Yani. I did not expect you both to come but it’s a most welcome surprise!”

Lady Yani took a bow. “Thank you, Master Baggins. Me and my lady dearly wished to meet you today. Mahal knows when we shall see each other again.”

“Ah, I suppose you shall be leaving for Erebor very soon?”

Lady Dís shook her head. ‘It is too late for that, Master Baggins; we have stayed in the Blue Mountains too long. The Misty Mountains would not be passable even if we left this very moment. We shall set out next spring once the snows melt.”

“I see,” Bilbo said, surprised. He suddenly realised just how much trouble taking care of Amaranth had caused King Thorin. His gratitude could not be contained any longer; Bilbo excused himself to the dwarrowdams and his legs carried him towards the King until he stood face to face with the dwarf.

“Thorin,” he breathed. “I... I do not know how to thank you. I am truly in your debt, for all you’ve done.”

“It is nothing,” Thorin said. “There’s no debt between us. I did as I promised.”

“Do not say it is nothing. Thorin, you must know...” Bilbo exhaled shakily. “Thorin. You must know.”

“Bilbo?” Thorin murmured.

It was so sweet, Bilbo thought, how uncertain and unguarded Thorin’s gaze was. The hobbit could not be imagining the glimmer of nervousness in Thorin’s bright eyes. How endearing, that the King of Durin folk could be nervous. Bilbo took a step forward towards him and Thorin drew a sharp breath of surprise. The dwarf’s shock was no wonder; their physical proximity was nothing but scandalous now. Anyone who looked their way could make some bold assumptions. Bilbo realised this and bit his lower lip anxiously. Thorin’s gaze travelled to the hobbit’s mouth. Certainly, Bilbo thought, he could not dismiss this.

“Surely,” he said softly, looking into Thorin’s eyes, “You know that I - ”

“Bilbo!” Drogo called loudly, causing Bilbo to all but jump away from Thorin. “We simply must invite the King and his companions to Bag End, don’t you agree?”

Bilbo cleared his throat. “Why, yes, of course. We have prepared a large meal, all of you are more than welcome to share it with us.”

“We would rather set out on our way back as soon as possible,” King Thorin replied.  

“Still, would you not like to rest for a little while?” Bilbo said, begging Thorin with his eyes to agree.

The dwarf’s gaze turned mournful and apologetic. “I do have some important matters to take care of in the Blue Mountains.”

Bibo nodded, a lump in his throat.

“Please accept my most heartfelt thanks, King Thorin,” Gorbadoc said, “For how you helped my daughter. As a gift of gratitude for you, I shall send a delivery of the Shire’s finest pipeweed and food to your Halls, how does that sound?”

“Excellent,” the King replied and mounted his pony. “Let us away now. Goodbye, good hobbits. May all of you always remain in good health and prosper.”

The warriors who accompanied King Thorin also returned to their saddles. Lady Dís and Lady Yani bid her good wishes and farewell to the Misses and to Bilbo, then followed suit. It was all terribly swift and sudden; before Bilbo knew it, the party of dwarves disappeared on the horizon.

King Thorin had left, taking the hobbit’s heart with him.

Despaired, Bilbo wanted to stomp his foot like fauntling throwing a tantrum. He wished to yell at Drogo for having ruined the conversation between him and Thorin or scream away at the sky until he lost his voice. Yet, everyone in Bag End was so joyful - Primula's nearest and dearest were all together at last. Bilbo would not ruin it. With all his might, he maintained his composure until all his family retired to bed in the evening. Only once everybody else was asleep did Bilbo release all his anger and grief.

Sitting by the desk in his study, Bilbo kicked the leg of the desk, cursed most improperly, then wept and wept, and wept, until his head hurt.

If only his parents could see him now, he thought as he cried, acting like a tween experiencing his first heartbreak! His mother would put his arms around him regardless, he was sure. She would murmur soothing words of understanding and pet his head. Bilbo could almost feel her touch now; he still remembered how it felt. His father would then have tea with him; tea was a solution to most issues according to him. When they drank a cup together, he would then gently lecture Bilbo that Bagginses did not despair. Bilbo could so clearly picture him saying, “Us Bagginses, we keep calm, my dear boy. It is always better to deal with problems with poise. And tea!”

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. This time, they were caused by how acutely he missed his parents at this difficult moment of his life. Even if he knew exactly how they would support him if they were with him, it did not change the fact that they could never be by his side  again.

As Bilbo drank his tea and cried some more, he decided that he agreed with his father. He was a Baggins, even if half Took. There was no use for dramatics. Life would always continue, as merciless as it was sometimes.

Three days after their return, Amaranth and Asphodel went back to Buckland with their parents and everything in Bag End returned to a relative normal. Bilbo tried to conceal his sorrow from those around him but he could tell that Primula noticed. To escape her watchful and concerned eyes, Bilbo would often bring Frodo to the market together with the youngest Gamgee boy, Samwise, or take the lads on long walks, alternatively offering to watch them play. The two fauntlings enjoyed his company and vice versa. Their boundless cheer - so natural for children at their young age - never failed to lift Bilbo’s low spirits.

This was how, not four weeks after the return of Misses Brandybuck from the Blue Mountains, Bilbo found himself returning to Bag End hand in hand with Frodo after an entertaining walk, only to see the strangest scene.

The smial’s green door was left open and right at the threshold, Primula leaned against the doorframe, laughing loudly and crying tears of mirth, clutching at her belly. Drogo stood by her in a drastically different mood, his face flushed red with rage and his thunderous gaze directed at the piece of parchment he was holding.

“Oh Bilbo,” Primula gasped, “You’re not going to believe this!”

“It is unbelievable!” Drogo seethed. “Absolutely unbelievable!”

Bilbo asked what had happened and eventually understood - from Drogo’s indignant exclamations and whatever Primula could say between bounds of giggles - that a note from Gorbadoc Brandybuck had been delivered to Bag End in which he informed that his daughter Asphodel and her intended Rufus Burrows had disappeared five days prior only to return to Buckland today with marriage bands on their fingers.

How unexpected it was, and how delightful indeed! Drogo was greatly unhappy with the impropriety of their elopement for a while. Primula could not stop laughing for almost just as long.

The next day, she travelled with her husband and son to Brandy Hall to extend her congratulations personally. Bilbo went with them, albeit not excited, for he held little positive feelings he had about the whole affair. What he felt the most strongly was disappointment and jealousy, which he was far from proud of, but he had not yet healed from having lost his chance to speak to Thorin and seeing Asphodel becoming happily married to the one she loved only festered Bilbo’s heartache.

They arrived to Brandy Hall in the middle of preparations for a huge feast. It was clear that the Master of Buckland spared no expense to celebrate his daughter’s marriage. The tables in the Dining Hall were near creaking under the weight of all the food that was set on them, and the decorative chains hung on the walls were dazzling.

Before the feast, the family had a smaller, private gathering, where Asphodel and her husband, Amaranth, and their parents, Primula, Drogo, Frodo and Bilbo were present. When they all sat together is Gorbadoc’s living room, Asphodel and Rufus, with mischievous glints in their eyes, talked about how they simply could not wait to be married any longer. Thus, they had devised a plan to elope to Tookbank. There, an officiant had agreed to join them in marriage, which had happened two days ago. Apshodel’s parents shook their heads with fond exasperation all the while, and Amaranth did not seem surprised by a single detail of the story. Upon noticing that, Bilbo chuckled under his breath. Primula was delighted by the recollection and then began to reminisce about her own wedding with Drogo, which worked to make Drogo much more forgiving.

The feast began soon after. The nearest family to the Master of Buckland - his wife, all his children and their families - were sat at the high table, together with the Thàin and his wife and child. Bilbo, as the head of the Bagginses and a dear cousin of Primula, had a seat at that table as well. Relieved that he was not seated anywhere close enough to suffer the company of Tháin’s wife, Bilbo could try to enjoy himself to the best of his ability. Yet, he quickly noted that something was not right.

“Is something the matter with Amaranth?” he said quietly to her parents across from him. “Why has she not joined us?”

The expressions on their faces turned grim.

“She’s feeling under the weather again,” Mirabella said.

“Is she still ill?” Primula, sat next to her mother, asked. “I thought she was faring much better.”

“Some days she is well enough,” Asphodel said, “But there are times when she’s much more weak and coughs a lot. We went for a walk to the Brandywine the other day and she got terribly short of breath, and when we returned home, she was utterly exhausted. She tried not to show it but I could see that it had upset her deeply that a walk we had used to take before breakfast had become a challenge for her. She may think nobody notices, yet I do see just how sad she is most days.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I’ve begun to fear that I might see her waste away before me. She hardly wants to go outside anymore and would rather stay in her room and weave. I do not know how to cheer her up. It seems so helpless.”

Upon hearing this, Bilbo was so concerned that he offered to contact Lord Elrond Half-elven of Rivendell, the best healer anyone could know. Amaranth’s whole family were immediately in favour of the idea and thanked Bilbo profusely.

Thus, when Bilbo returned to Bag End with Primula, Drogo and Frodo the day after, he wasted no time and sat to write a letter to Lord Elrond immediately. He first described Amaranth’s accident and following illness, then prevailing ailments, and at the end requested advice on what could be done to help her. Bilbo posted the letter that same day, with the hope that Lord Elrond would not be occupied enough to take long to reply.

The lord’s response arrived to Bag End six weeks later, which was quite swift, given the distance between the Shire and Rivendell. In his letter, Lord Elrond explained that Amaranth’s health issue likely stemmed from what she had been through, as her lungs seemed to have become damaged by the infection. The damage might heal in the span of the next months. She might only need time, rest and some breathing exercises to enjoy the same fitness again, Lord Elrond had written, but she might as well never regain her previous strength. He then encouraged Bilbo to bring Amaranth to Rivendell if possible, offering the help of himself and other healers to see if they could assist Amaranth in making a complete recovery, adding that he would be more than happy to host hobbit guests in his home.

And so, however he disliked and resented it, Bilbo realised that he might be unable to avoid Rivendell any longer.

With reluctance, he presented Lord Elrond’s offer to his family, first to Drogo and Primula, who did not receive it with much enthusiasm.

“Take her to Rivendell?” Primula said. “How far is it?”

“A month of travel on foot,” Bilbo said.

“That’s so very far,” she replied sadly.

“Is such a journey even safe?” Drogo said with a worried frown. “Would it not be too strenuous in Amaranth’s condition?’

“I hope she should manage on a pony,” Bilbo replied, though Drogo’s words made him consider other ways in which the journey would not be safe and he sent another letter to Lord Elrond as soon as he was able in which he inquired about this issue.

While waiting for the Lord’s reply, Bilbo travelled to Buckland to discuss the possibility of Amaranth’s stay in Rivendell. Her parents and sister reacted with the same dislike as Drogo and Primula.

“I loath to let her go,” Grobadoc said, “But if you are certain that the elves could help her, then this shall be my comfort throughout all the time she’s away.”

Mirabella seemed too overcome with sadness and did not speak.

“Oh, Bilbo,” Asphodel said, “If only I had known that adventure would take my sister away from me. I fear she shall be away for so very long that we might never see each other again.”

Amaranth herself was the least resistant to the idea. When Bilbo told her about what Lord Elrond had offered, her gaze became alight with excitement.

“Rivendell?” she said and smiled wide. “Yani told me a lot about how she wished to see that place! Oh, she shall be so jealous when she hears that I’m going there!”

“Are you certain you wish to go?” Bilbo asked. “You must realise we shall be gone for many months. If we manage to depart in Astron, we might return even in Halimath.”

“That’s awfully long, I agree, and it would be difficult for me to be away from everyone for such an extended period. Yet, I must admit that since our last adventure in Ered Luin, I have begun to want more!” She coughed. “If my health was any better now, I’d spend my days going further and further into the Old Forest! Indeed, the notion that something can be done to help me recover fills me with such hope and joy that I do wish to go with you to Rivendell very much.”

And so it was decided.

Soon after, the arrangements necessary for their departure were underway. Bilbo once again asked Drogo to conduct the affairs of the Master of Bag End in his stead during his absence, to which Drogo agreed just as easily as before. Then, he tried to think of how he could ensure the safety of their travel but thankfully, the issue did not cause him many sleepless nights before Lord Elrond replied to Bilbo’s letter inquiring about it. The lord suggested having one of the Rangers of the North accompany them from Bree to Rivendell. He said that one of the Rangers, Halbarad, was willing to do so and should wait for them in the Prancing Pony a week before yestarë for three days.

Bilbo was much relieved by this proposal; he had worried a great deal about crossing paths with dangerous creatures on the way to Imladris - his experience had taught him that trolls, wargs or orcs could venture into the region around the Hidden Valley - but their odds of surviving such an encounter with a Ranger were significantly higher. His mother had told him about Rangers, for she had met a few personally when she herself had travelled outside of the Shire, and she had always spoken highly of them and their capabilities. True noble warriors of old, she had called them. Bilbo did not need any more testament than that.

Meeting with Halbarad also eased Bilbo’s mind in one more sense - its date allowed him to develop a clear plan for preparations. He now knew when they should gather supplies, purchase ponies and pack. Once it was time to begin getting ready, other hobbits quickly took note of how Master Baggins and Amarnath seemed to prepare themselves for travel. The gossip spread from Buckland and Hobbiton across nearly the whole Shire. As a result, Bilbo found himself at the centre of yet another scandal. Many were outraged by his plans. How could he bring Amaranth with him on a journey after what she had suffered? How dare he risk her safety like this again!

Indeed, some hobbits were so invested in the situation and cared about Amaranth’s wellbeing to the degree that they attempted to prevent Bilbo from leaving with her. Many vendors refused to sell him their wares, hindering the gathering of needed supplies. Repurchasing the pony he had ridden during the journey to the Blue Mountains, too, was made near impossible for him. In the end, the task took thrice as long as it normally would.

Amidst all this chaos and frustration, Bilbo was so preoccupied that he hardly had the time to think about Thorin.

The hobbit noticed this most acutely on the day before he was to depart for Buckland, from where he and Amaranth would ride to Bree. Everything was ready and he was fully packed. Come morning, he, Drogo, Primula and Frodo would go to Brandy Hall, where Primula and the rest of the family would bid Amaranth and Bilbo farewell. Then, Bilbo and Amaranth would set off to meet Halabrad in Bree and travel onwards with him.

Bilbo realised that he would soon begin to put more and more distance between himself and Thorin. He remembered Thorin’s general distrust of elves and how the dwarf had resented staying at the Last Homely House. Thus, once Bilbo stepped foot in the Hidden Valley, the odds of meeting Throin again were truly reduced to zero. The hobbit’s heart ached when he understood this and wondered if he should write a letter to Thorin after all.

Yet, it was too late to think of such things; the next morning came quickly. Bilbo bid farewell to the Gamgees and set off to Buckland with his family soon after. As he took one last look at Bag End’s green door, what saddened him the most was how unmoved he felt; for most of his life, he had loathed the thought of ever parting with the smial and now, he was leaving it without much regret. He reasoned that this had to be due to the fact that he had given Bag End to Primula and her family, who would treat it with all the love and respect it deserved. However, deeper down, a thought which was hard to confront appeared in his mind: that at this point, Bag End would be just fine, and his presence there, even in the whole Shire, would no longer make a difference.

Chapter Text

When Bilbo Baggins saw the Last Homely House for the first time in eight years, he began to weep instantly. Why he wept, he knew not. Perhaps it was because he had been exhausted from travelling in the wilderness for almost three weeks and they had finally reached their destination. Maybe his weary eyes were so overjoyed at the sight of Rivendell’s ethereal beauty that they overflowed with tears. The reason could be the finality of the fact that they had arrived here - the place where Bilbo did not truly wish to be. It might be all these things at once, too.

"Oh dear, Bilbo, what is wrong?" Amaranth said, concerned.

Bilbo only knew that he did not wish to discuss his tears, so he had to think of an answer which would not arouse any curiosity.

"I think I’m just so tired.”

"We shall all rest very soon, Master Baggins,” Halbarad said.

They were not far - only a short descent down the stone path away from arriving at the entrance to the Last Homely House - and walked this last stretch of their journey in silence, leading their mounts by the reins. Amaranth appeared to have been rendered speechless by the beauty around her, her mouth agape and eyes wide, which had been Bilbo’s reaction as well when he had seen Rivendell for the first time. Now, the hobbit was no less struck and his expression was similar to his cousin’s. As for Halbarad, he did not speak either. That was not a surprise, however, for he was a taciturn man. Ever since he and the hobbits had met in Bree, Halbarad would answer any questions they had and listen to any stories they told him but added to conversation little and hardly ever began one by himself. Bilbo and Amaranth had not been much disinclined to the Ranger by his nature - they were both of a more quiet disposition themselves. As their journey into the wilderness progressed, they grew to appreciate Halbrad’s silent but strong presence more and more. The Ranger seemed to know the way to Rivendell so well that he could lead the hobbits there in his sleep, and he travelled in the wilderness with such assurance and ease that one could take it for his home.

Indeed, Bilbo and Amaranth were both happy and grateful to have such a dependable travel companion for their journey. If they were asked to name a fault in the man, they would not be able to find one. Rather, they both had a concern stemming from independent observations, which was that Halbarad was so rare to show any cheer. Traces of a certain heaviness were always noticeable in the look in his eyes and his posture, as though his spirit could not truly lift from under some weight he was carrying.

It was only now that Bilbo and Amaranth witnessed Halbarad’s spirit uplift at last - as the Ranger saw Lord Elrond himself awaiting them, a true smile lightened his face. With a spring in his step, he strode to the lord and the two greeted each other warmly in the elven manner, then exchanged a few sentences in Sindarin.

Bilbo understood from their conversation that they talked about how the journey had passed and how glad Lord Elrond was to see Halbarad arrive. The hobbit made his best effort not to show any signs of understanding them; eavesdropping was rude, he believed, even if one could not help it. Amaranth had the comfort of not facing his struggle and regarded Halbarad and Elrond with open pleasure, which was no wonder, for the elven tongue would be a most beautiful sound to the ears of anyone belonging to the Free Peoples, except perhaps the dwarrow.

When Lord Elrond turned to the hobbits, his smile was all too knowing for Bilbo’s liking.

"Bilbo Baggins!” he exclaimed. "Na vedui!”

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn.” Bilbo bowed. "Mae l'ovannen!”

Elrond bent down on one knee before Bilbo to level himself with the hobbit, put a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, and smiled warmly. "Mae g'ovannen, mellon!”

Bilbo returned the lord’s smile and at last, his heart filled with joy.

"You must be Bilbo’s cousin,” Elrond said to Amaranth.

Amaranrh curtsied. "Amaranth Brandybuck, at your service.”

"Welcome to Rivendell, Miss Brandybuck! I am glad you have come. Now, let me show you both to your rooms; it was no small journey you have just made, you must be weary.”

With that, Elrond led them inside the Last Homely House. The hobbits’ ponies were taken away by Halbarad, who promised to take them to the stables and see them tended to. Bilbo and Amaranth followed Elrond for a while, through beautiful halls, corridors and staircases, until they reached the part of the house with the highest tower. There, Elrond presented them with their accommodation: both Bilbo and Amaranth were given a set of two spacious and bright rooms next to one another. One of these rooms was an antechamber with a table, a desk, and a balcony that offered a stunning view of the other parts of the house and the Valley, while the other was a sleeping chamber with a large, soft-looking bed.

Bilbo and Amaranth found their accommodation exceedingly lovely and hardly knew what to say in the face of such generosity. Neither could muster a word, in fact, though Elrond did not seem offended.

"Make yourselves at home,” he said. "Someone will bring food for you shortly. Would you like to have a bath drawn as well?”

The hobbits nodded enthusiastically.

"Very well,” Elrond chuckled. "Please rest now however long you need. Once you are fully rested, we will meet again.”

"Annon allen!” Bilbo said.

Elrond smiled, inclined his head and left.

As soon as the lord disappeared from view, some gentle scolding from Amaranth awaited Bilbo.

"Goodness, Bilbo!’ she exclaimed. "First I find that you are a hero among Durin’s Folk and now that you speak elvish! I’ve known you my whole life and you still surprise me! Now I have to wonder how much else I do not know about you.”

Bilbo shook his head, a blush reddening his cheeks. "Do not bother about me at all, Amaranth. You and I should rest now.”

Later, the hobbits would hardly be able to recall the very beginning of their stay in Rivendell. That time passed before they knew it and all they did throughout was recuperating from their travel. Bilbo and Amaranth did not leave their rooms and revelled in the comfort of their beds, sleeping a lot or simply lounging in them. A few elves kept bringing them food and asked if they needed anything but otherwise did not disturb them.

The hobbits regained a sufficient amount of energy four days after their arrival and they decided they had to see how their ponies were faring. Bilbo vaguely remembered the way to the stables from his previous stay at Rivendell and led them there, though not without getting lost. Lord Elrond met them in one of the corridors by accident and decided to give them a tour right then. Their host showed them the locations of the dining room, the music hall, the kitchens, the library and the stables. After the hobbits greeted their ponies, satisfied to see that they were kept in good conditions, Elrond had Amaranth accompany him to his quarters.

There, the lass was soon examined by Elrond and three other healers. They asked her many questions about her accident and following illness, the symptoms she had experienced and the treatment she had received. The healers then checked her breathing by telling her to inhale deeply and exhale slowly while they listened with utmost concentration. Their elven ears were even keener than those of hobbits, for they seemed to catch something in Aamaranth’s breathing than the lass herself and her kin never had. The healers talked briefly in their tongue after she had taken just a few breaths, and then Lord Elrond addressed their patient.

"We believe you have a chronic lung condition that is a result of what you have been through,” he said to concerned Amaranth. "We detected an abnormal murmur coming from your lungs, a sound usually caused by some inflammation. This tends to happen in the lungs as a reaction to severe infection or irritation, in your case pneumonia and contact with water. In essence, there are parts of your lungs that have been struggling to heal and cannot operate as they are supposed to, so you have been unable to breathe at normal capacity. Your body cannot take in as much air as it needs, and that makes you tired. The cough is a symptom of some remaining infection and inflammation as well.”

Amaranth was almost moved to tears by the relief of receiving such a detailed and comprehensible explanation of her condition. At last, she understood what had been happening! Elrond’s knowledge also assured her that she was in the most capable hands - another reason for joy. With a watery smile, she inquired about what could be done to treat her condition and the healers gave her extensive instructions.

First, she was to prioritise rest and nutrition: overstraining herself was highly discouraged, while indulging in any amount of wine or ale, as well as too many sweets, was forbidden. Second, she was shown a set of breathing exercises and stretches of the upper body - she was to perform the former and the latter once a day. Third, she would be given potions at breakfast and dinner, drinking of which she was to never forget. Lastly, the healers recommended that she take daily walks and that she should gradually make them longer and more frequent, as much as her body allowed her.

With all this said and done, Elrond walked Amaranth back to her rooms. Bilbo awaited them in front of the door anxiously. When Amaranth saw him, she all but jogged towards him, a happy grin on her face.

"Bilbo, I now know everything! I think I shall be right as rain in no time! Lord Elrond and his healers have such expertise, they can do wonders, I’m sure!”

Bilbo was rather taken aback by her excitement but happy for her nonetheless. Elrond explained to him the results of her examination and took his leave. In the evening that day, Bilbo sought him for a private conversation, for there was an issue he wished to discuss without Amaranth present.  

"Is it possible to make any prognosis for her recovery? Forgive me if it’s too early for such a question but - Amaranth has come such a long way here and she is so hopeful. I’d like to know if it was all for nothing, to be careful with what I say to her about her health.”

"It is too early,” Elrond replied, not unkindly. "Making predictions should be possible in about a fortnight when we expect to observe the first effects of the treatment. Until then, I would advise to talk to her about this matter only if she starts the conversation herself. In such a case, do not avoid honesty. She is right to be hopeful, for there is hope, but her lungs may as well not respond to any treatment we can provide. However, if she does not raise the subject, I believe it is better to withhold any negative discussions. She’s in high spirits now, which in itself is a powerful remedy.”

"I see, thank you,” Bilbo replied, though he was not entirely pleased with Elrond’s answer. To him, it was not right to omit to prepare Amaranth for the possibility of failure. She should be cautioned to rein in her hopes, he thought; her spirit would be crushed beyond mending if she was let down.

"I must say I was not surprised to see you come here not for your own sake,” Elrond added, the gaze of his grey ageless eyes piercing Bilbo to his core, "And while only those of the strongest heart can act as selflessly at you, you surely know that being so wholly unselfish is one heavy burden. It would concern me greatly to see you carry it any longer than you already have, my friend. Please allow yourself to put your own wants and needs above everyone else’s. No one here will ever think less of you; we all know have done for others enough.”

Bilbo did not know whether he replied anything to that. He barely remembered walking back to his rooms, so affected was he. The hobbit came to when he lay curled in his bed, shedding tears.

What Elrond had said struck him painfully, despite the gentleness of the expressed sentiment. The lord's words were like a balm that caused an old festering wound to sting terribly. He now felt his hurt in full - this was the first stage of healing. Though Bilbo did not know it yet, weeping miserably as he was, going through this set him on the path that eventually led to peace.

Chapter Text

As the days passed, Bilbo and Amaranth gradually became acquainted with everyone staying in the Last Homely House. There was not much opportunity to socialise with everybody all at once. Meals, for example, were only served twice a day! Breakfast was eaten rather late at nine o’clock, and it was an informal affair not attended by many. Dinners at seven o’clock in the evening were a more formal occasion when one was most likely to meet the majority of those who dwelled in Imladris, or at the gathering in the music hall after, during which the elves would sing late into the night. Yet, attendance was never mandatory anywhere at any time - in the Last Homely House, all were free to do as they wished.

The hobbits spent a lot of time in the kitchens. They could not eat as little as two meals a day; their bodies required at least three times as much food. Thus, Bilbo and Amaranth prepared their own additional meals, often baking pies or cooking stews, sometimes soups. The kitchen staff liked to tease them about their high appetite, but the hobbits did not mind it, as it was done in good humour. In fact, Amaranth soon grew to prefer interacting with the kitchen staff to anyone else; they were cheerful and liked to joke, which made them less intimidating than most other inhabitants of Rivendell.

It would not take extraordinary insight to know why Amaranth found herself intimidated. Many elves of Imladris were ancient beings, etherally beautiful, who carried themselves with dignity and poise. The half-elves - lord Elrond himself and his twin sons Elladan and Elrohir - were hardly any different. The Rangers, a community of who lived in Rivendell, could intimidate one also, for they resembled the elves and half-elves in their tall posture, proud countenance, and the look of millennia worth of wisdom in their eyes. These characteristics could be found even in the young ones among them, most notably Estel, the ward of lord Elrond loved by all, whose bearing brought to mind the noble and mighty kings of old.

Bilbo himself had already been around such people and was not as affected by their presence as Amaranth, though he easily sympathised with her. He remembered very well how he had felt when he had been in Rivendell for the first time, and there also remained one elf who never ceased to intimidate Bilbo even at present - Glorfindel. This elf appeared to emanate a glow from within, air as if shifted around him, and nature hushed in his proximity. Glorfindel’s light and power awed other elves into silence, leave alone the hobbits. Bilbo dared not look at Glorfindel for too long and the mere thought of striking a conversation with him was inconciveable, epsecially after he heard about Glorfindel’s life and accomplishements. From Elladan, Bilbo found that Glorfindel had been born long enough ago to have gazed at the Two Trees of Valinor. Elrohir told Bilbo that Glorfindel had slain a Balrog, a freasome demon created though corrupting a Maia and one that matched the Maiar in power. Estel said that from the fight with the Balrog, Glorfindel had suffered death, but the Valar restored Glorfindel’s spirit for his brave deeds, and he returned to the world of living, gifted with powers almost level with those of a Maia.

Amaranth’s shyness was no wonder indeed. Bilbo did not fault her for it and understood it when he was the only one whose company she was comfortable with seeking. In fact, he welcomed this, for the two of them got along well. They spent many hours of the day with each other, eating together, enjoying the peace and quiet, or taking walks around all parts of Rivendell. Amaranth remained in constant awe of where she was and never tired of discovering new nooks and crannies in the House.

"I feel as though I had lived my whole life with my eyes closed,” she said to Bilbo while they explored how vast the collection of books, tomes and scrolls was in the library, "And only opened them when I entered the Valley. Does that make sense to you, Bilbo? Have you felt the same?”

Bilbo confirmed that he had shared her experience and thoughts. To hobbits like them, who came from a race that in general seldom did or wish to interact with the world outside of the Shire, Rivendell could be nothing but enlightening. In their eyes, Imladris seemed at once ancient and yet somehow untouched by time, as though there was a certain power present that continuously healed it from any dent of passing of years and preserved it in its best state. Indeed, Rivendell, if anything, was a place of healing and sanctuary. Here, even the most troubled could find true rest and breathe easy. Bilbo and Amaranth saw this effect on their own eyes whenever they met Halbarad at dinners: a man who they had got to know as grim now smiled quite often and at times even laughed. They could observe Rivendell’s influence in themselves as well - they had the best sleep of their lives and every day woke with more energy and joy.

A place such as this was bound to open a hobbit’s eyes to how vast and full of unknown wonders the world was. Amaranth’s curiosity was a perfectly normal reaction, and indulging it was no hardship to Bilbo. He quite enjoyed both imparting his knowledge of the elves and their history - for she wished to learn all there was to know about them - as well as strolling around the Last Homely House and the Hidden Valley. There was only one spot in the whole of Imladris that he avoided - the landing of stairs where he had stood with Thorin when they had talked about their childhoods and fireflies and then overheard the conversation between Gandalf and Lord Elrond about the madness in the line of Durin. Bilbo did not ever show that part of the House to Amaranth nor went near it himself. He pushed all thoughts and memories of Thorin out of his mind altogether whenever any appeared.

Yet, it was inevitable that Amaranth would want to walk those stairs and enjoy the view from the landing at some point. And so that day finally came: Amaranth, during an afternoon walk with Bilbo, pointed to the very landing of stairs that Bilbo could not bear to even glance at.

"Oh, look!” she exclaimed. "Why, the sights from there must be exquisite! Let us go there now!”

"I would rather not, if you don’t mind,” Bilbo replied, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

Bilbo had never had any trouble denying the wants and needs of those he did not care for or respect. When those toward whom he held opposite feelings were concerned, however, the matter was entirely different. Bilbo waited for Amaranth’s response with bated breath, terribly anxious about her taking offense.

Amaranth merely shrugged her shoulders. "All right,” she said. "I shall go there by myself some other time.”

Neither her tone nor expression indicated in any way that she had felt insulted. There was no hint of disappointment or upset in her demeanour. Bilbo was so relieved to see her indifference that he sighed out loud.

"Are you well, Bilbo?” Amaranth said, watching him with worry.

"I am,” Bilbo replied, his face alight with a smile.

He was very well indeed, at that moment. A certain lightness lifted his spirit. He had done it, he thought with joy, he had prioritized his own wishes! In fact, now that he had managed this, he could hardly believe how easy it had been!

Soon, the initial elation left him and disbelief took its place. Had doing this been so easy all this time, Bilbo wondered incredulously. Amaranth’s graceful reaction notwithstanding, was refusing others truly not nearly as challenging as he had feared? It now seemed so and he began to feel that he had been really rather silly. For so long, he found himself unable to follow the wishes of his heart and it could have been simple? Foolish indeed!

A morose mood overtook him. Once Amaranth retired to her rooms to rest after their walk, Bilbo returned to the fateful flight of stairs. He stood at the bottom and stared at the landing where, unbeknowst to him at the time, his heart had been set on the course that would change it forever.

Oh, how he had failed his own heart! There had been so many occasions when he could have talked with Thorin and yet he had not confessed. How could he forgive himself for wasting all the possible opportunities, he wondered. Tears of anger and despair rolled down his face.

Affected by these emotions, the hobbit heard footsteps approaching from behind him far too late. Before he could hide, the person noticed him and his state.

"Master Baggins!” Estel cried and rushed to Bilbo’s side. "Has something happened?”

The hobbit wiped his wet cheeks with his sleeve hastily.

"It is nothing,” he said, lowering his head in embarrassment.  

"Is there any way in which I could help you? You are upset.”

"I do not think there’s anything you could do.”

"Are you certain?”

Bilbo was too surprised by the sound of genuine concern in Estel’s voice to continue averting his eyes. He regarded Estel and noted that there was such earnestness in the young Rnger’s gaze. Now the hobbit understood completely why everyone adored him. One who could care for others so easily, deeply and genuinely was bound to gain people’s affection. Bilbo himself could now feel fondness blooming in his heart for the lad.

"You are still young, are you not?” he said.

"I am not yet twenty.”

Estel could have either come of age recently or was soon about to, Bilbo suspected, though he did not know for sure when the Rangers were considered to reach maturity. When he thought of himself at the stage of life where now Estel was, his past self seemed still so very young to him. Bilbo around the age of thirty-three had had no conception of what awaited him in life. He felt an ache as he recalled how innocent he had been, without any worry, for at that time there had been nothing at all he could be concerned about.

"Then, in all your years to come,” Bilbo said, "May your heart never know what mine has got to know.”

"If I may,” the young Ranger replied. "I would like to hear what your heart has endured.”

Bilbo shook his head, as reluctant to discuss the matter as ever. "I don’t think I should trouble you with it.”

"I assure you it is no trouble at all, and speaking of it might ease your pain.”

The hobbit sighed, fondly exasperated by Estel’s insistence. Very well then, he thought. It would probably do no good to speak of this to a person who was so unlikely to understand what he had experienced - or so Bilbo sincerely wished for Estel’s sake - but he could not blame the lad for being curious. There was also the fact that one could find a certain comfort in sharing their greatest sorrows with a distant aquaintance; without familiarity, what one revealed did not hold the same weight. Estel would not know what and who Bilbo was referring to, and that gave the hobbit courage to speak of the matter at last.

"Love that could have been,” he said, his voice hushed and strained, “But never was and now cannot be. I hope your heart never knows that, Estel. The regret of not having chosen that love when I had the chance, the knowledge that I will never know what it’s like to have that love returned... it’s truly unbearable, sometimes.”

Estel bent down on one knee in front of Bilbo and squeezed the hobbit’s shoulder with his hand in a comforting gesture.

"I am sorry,” he said gently. "You carry a great burden in your heart indeed. I see how acute your pain is and so I understand that the love it has been caused by is just as strong, is it not?”

Bilbo could only nod in agreement, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

"Young I may be, but in my ten and nine years, I have met many different sorts of peoples and creautres as I tavelled Eriador, and heard of others from my kin. Thus, I know that there are many in this world who live their whole lives with no love in their hearts, sometimes even without any trace of genuine feeling. It is not so common to have loved as wholly and greatly as you have, or to be able to. No small blessing were you given, especially considering the short time we have to walk this world. It might ease your heart, I should hope, to recall what you have had instead of what you are wanting. That is the way in which elves soothe the ache of lack in their hearts; most of them experience it in their eternal lives. I believe it could help you. It has helped me, too.”

Bilbo did not know how to respond. He was stunned by Estel's wisdom - even though the lad being so wise was not so surprising when one remembered that he was Lord Elrond’s foster son - and deeply moved by his kindness. Greatitude almost overwhelmed him and he struggled to find the words to thank Estel but the young Ranger only smiled warmly and said that he was glad he could help.

The conversation left Bilbo in a daze for quite a long time. He could not stop pondering on what Estel had said. If he were to think about what he had been given, his blessings were indeed many. He had grown up in the peaceful Shire, in comfort and with two loving parents. After they passed, Primula, her family and the Gamgees supported him steadfastly. He had gone on the Quest, survived all its dangers, and returned to the Shire in one piece. He had met many people of different races who were kind, loyal and brave and whom he could call friends.

Even his love for Thorin, though difficult, he was grateful for. Bilbo did not wish to imagine never having met Thorin. What a privilege it was to have got to know the remarkable dwarf! The odds of the two of them meeting in the first place had been very low - as they came from two starkly different backgrounds and environments - let alone them sharing their singular friendship, trust and respect. It was such a gift indeed, Bilbo realised, to have admired and loved Thorin as he had; if the Valar kept returning him to the Middle Earth to relive his lifetime, he would do it all over again every time.

He shed tears as he reached this understanding but these tears were not bitter; they were tears of joy and relief, and at last, the storm in his heart calmed.

Chapter Text

If those who had ever stayed at the Last Homely House were asked when they found the Hidden Valley to be the most beautiful, every person could provide a different answer that would still be truthful, for Rivendell never lacked qualities that inspired awe, day and night, in any season of the year. There were certainly times, however, when Imladris was likely to receive the highest praise from most, such as now, at the end of May, when everything was in full flourish, nights were growing shorter and warmer, and the air was filled with bird song and the sweet smell of flowers.

The general atmosphere of bloom was reflected in the well-being of those living in Imladris. The elves and the half-elves were much more cheerful, eagerly awaiting the summer solstice, which was a great celebration for them, while most of the Rangers had left to visit their relations in Eriador or to travel. As for the two hobbits, they could hardly be happier! They found themselves ceaselessly amazed by all the different butterflies that came to feed on the nectar of the flowers in the gardens, the shock of lilies of the valley blooming in Imladris - for those lilies were quite rare in the Shire - and by how beautifully the song of blackbirds resounded in the evenings, and also by how many fireflies there were to see at dusk.

Their reasons for joy were not only found in Rivendell's nature, however. The greatest cause for their happiness lay in the fact that Amaranth’s health began to improve - her cough almost disappeared completely, and she was able to walk for increasingly longer distances without becoming short of breath. It could not be said that she was close to being healed, but the treatment having the desired effects, as well as her having once chanced upon the room where the spinsters and weavers of Rivendell worked, which helped her in overcoming her shyness around elves as she engaged with them in weaving, were enough to make her all but the happiest hobbit lass in the whole of Middle Earth.

And so, now that Amaranth had the strength and confidence to be on her own in Rivendell, she was not so reliant on Bilbo’s company, which allowed him to find more time for solitary enjoyments and his own pursuits. While she weaved with the elves for hours, Bilbo could study as many books in the library as he wished and began the work of translating some of his favourite elven poems from Sindarin into Westeron. Thus occupied, the hobbits would often only see each other at meal times, or even eat some of their meals separately!

Despite how busy they often found themselves, Bilbo and Amaranth did not ever forego taking the breakfasts and dinners with others, as well as having the afternoon tea together. The latter quickly became a routine that Bilbo and Amaranth followed religiously. Every day without fail, they would meet at three o’clock in the afternoon, prepare tea and a small meal to have with it, and sit at the terrace of the dining hall while enjoying the food and the drink. Once they were finished with their refreshments, they would remain seated and read, write letters to their family - which some Rangers were kind enough to carry to Bree, where they posted them to the Shire - or Bilbo would study Sindarin together with Amaranth.   

This was how, at exactly four weeks after their arrival to Rivendell, they found their tranquil afternoon interrupted by Elladan’s voice.

"Would you mind if we joined you?”

Bilbo and Amaranth looked up from their books to see the half-elven twins standing a polite distance away, awaiting the answer.

"Of course!” Amaranth replied before Bilbo could and gestured at the empty chairs by the table.

Elrohir chose the seat across from Bilbo and his brother took a seat opposite Amaranth. Having known the twins for a month now, Bilbo no longer had issues telling Elrond’s sons apart, though at the beginning it had been quite a challenge. The two were nearly identical in features, the sound of their voices, and demeanour; at times the only way in which one could differentiate between them was by knowing that Elladan preferred to wear darker colours than Elrohir, and that the silver circlet that he wore upon his head had a few small white jewels encrusted in it, while Elrohir’s circlet was made of white gold and was not adorned with any jewels.

The twin sons of Elrond were both beautiful, their build was strong, and in their eyes there was the depth of millennia they have lived and a mark of some grief they had survived. Despite all this, Bilbo and Amaranth had found that the sons of Elrond were not as intimidating as they seemed early into their acquaintance. This was because, once one had a conversation with Elladan and Elrohir, they discovered that there was still youth about how they acted. Bilbo had been particularly endeared to the twins; the way they were prone to mischief and playfulness so clearly reminded him of Fíli and Kíli that the hobbit had grown fond of them almost instantly.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” he said with a smile.

"Elladan and I would like to ask you about your kind, if we may. We see that you and Miss Brandybuck often read; are hobbits a studious people?”

"Oh no, not really,” Bilbo said. "Not in that sense, at least. We’re keen on studying the genealogy of our families and we have extensive knowledge of farming, gardening, husbandry, herbal medicine, as well as some trades, but love for studying books and stories in them would be seen as odd.”

"Indeed?” Elladan said. "Why is that?”

"Us hobbits,” Amaranth replied, "We pride ourselves in how steady-going we are. We work our fields, tend to our gardens, and do not usually leave the Shire. We do not like to do so; our land has all that we could ever need. Why want for more than home, family, and good food? Indulging in any fantasies that go beyond what the Shire can provide is frowned upon.”

"There is great wisdom in the beliefs of your folk,” Elrohir said. "This world would be a far merrier place if more peoples adopted your ways.”

Bilbo was about to argue that their ways also made them secluded and even close-minded but then Amaranth giggled loudly.

"I do apologise for laughing,” she said, a bright blush reddening her cheeks, "But when you spoke of other peoples adopting our ways, an involuntary image of dwarrow on a picnic came to my mind. Can you imagine that, Bilbo?”

Bilbo envisioned the mighty Thorin Oakenshield sitting cross-legged on a blanket, sipping on tea from a cup of china, and chuckled as well. The idea was rather amusing indeed.

"A picnic?” Elrohir said. “What is a picnic?”

The hobbits eagerly explained that picnics were cherished occasions, shared among closest of friends, married couples or courting sweethearts, during which they would spread blankets on the ground in the shade of trees and on them lay their best tableware, which they would use to enjoy tea, fruit, and other sweet treats. The tradition of picnics was near-sacred: when someone in the Shire saw other hobbits having a picnic, they were never to approach them, and nobody was ever to inquire what was talked about on a picnic, and as such this custom constituted a blessed, rare opportunity for hobbits to share completely private conversations. What also made picnics special was the refreshments - anything eaten at a picnic, Bilbo and Amaranth said, always had the richest, most splendid taste. One could eat the best cherries in the whole Shire and yet they would not be even half as delicious as any cherry one had while picnic-ing.

"That does sound delightful,” Elladan said. "Should we try having a picnic, brother?”

Elrohir grinned mischievously. "Let us have one and bring father’s favourite goblet to drink wine from.”

His brother laughed. "I wonder if we would be able to step foot outside of the House before he discovered it was missing.”

"We will never know if we do not try,” Elladan replied. "Are you brave enough to actually take it?”

"Brave enough?!” Elrohir cried. "I have fought  more orcs than you can count - ”

"Well,” Bilbo interjected, "I’m glad that picnics so appeal to you, but I am sure it can be done without taking your father’s favourite goblet.”

"Perhaps the four of us could picnic together?” Amaranth said. "So that you could experience how a proper picnic is done?”

The twins seemed quite surprised by her suggestion but they did not even debate it among themselves before accepting. Elladan nodded at once and Elrohir replied, “If you would like to share a picnic with us, we would be honoured.”

"What do you think, Bilbo?” Amaranth said. "I would so dearly fancy a picnic!”

"I don’t see why not! It certainly wouldn’t hurt to show Elladan and Elrohir that picnics are done with a care for good manners.”

Elladan and Elrohir laughed at this, though they did seem chastised. The hobbits and the twins then began planing when and where they would have the picnic and what they would actually bring to it. This discussion was interrupted when Lord Elrond himself approached them.

"Master Baggins,” he said warmly. "Someone wishes to see you.”

From behind Elrond, a tall figure cloaked in grey emerged. Bilbo grinned and rose from his seat.

"Gandalf!”

The wizard laughed jovially and embraced the hobbit in greeting.

"What a delightful surprise it is to find you here, my friend! And I see you have brought someone with you?”

Introduction between Gandalf and Amaranth followed. Lord Elrond and his sons took their leave, the twins promising the hobbits to resume making their picnic-ing arrangements with them later.

"Picnic-ing?” Lord Elrond asked his sons as they walked away. "What does that mean?”

Elladan and Elrohir began answering the question, one talking over the other until their father had them take turns. Bilbo, Amaranth and Gandalf chuckled as the sounds of their voices receded.

"This has to be the first time in its history that the Last Homely House host two hobbits at once,” the wizard said. "How come you found yourselves here?”

And so, the hobbits related to Gandalf all that had happened since he had visited the Shire last summer - which Bilbo realised seemed so very long ago to him that it could as well have been another lifetime entirely - and by the end of their story, the wizard’s bushy eyebrows climbed at least halfway up his forehead.

"I see much has come to pass to bring you here!” he said once their tale was done. "Yet I do believe it was a wise choice to have come to Rivendell; it is the best place for healing.”

While saying this, the wizard looked at Bilbo, and his grey eyes were knowing.

On the evening that day, when Bilbo and Gandalf shared a smoke after dinner, the wizard said, "You must know how most extremely glad I am, my friend, that you have overcome your dislike of Rivendell and came here. I can see that it has done you a great deal of good already; you look very well.”

Bilbo shrugged. "It was like you said. Some wounds only start healing after you poke at them.”

Gandalf hummed and regarded the hobbit intently. "I have a sense that all this poking will be very, very good for you indeed.”

Bilbo found this remark rather strange, as he thought all the poking had been done and he did not need any more.

"Why don’t you stop speaking in riddles, my friend?” he said.  

"The future is often as much a riddle to me as it is to you,” the wizard replied. "At times all that is revealed to me is a sense of foreboding, or a feeling that certain things shall go in one direction and not any other. And regarding you, my friend, I do feel that there’s still a change for the better awaiting you.”  

The hobbit could hardly think of a way in which anything could improve. He had everything anyone could ask for and had lived a blessed life. He remembered this whenever his heart ached, which filled it with enough gratitude to leave little room for anything else.

However strange Gandalf’s words were, though, Bilbo decided to trust them; one could not argue that the wizard’s foresight had proven right before. Thus, he did not comment, and instead asked Gandalf about where he had travelled since the last time they had seen each other.

"Oh, here and there,” Gandalf replied, his eyes twinkling with good humour. "After winter, I have travelled from the East westward, together with the Spring, and I have been to many places.”

Gandalf said no more and Bilbo shook his head with disbelief. "All right then,” he said with a smile, "Keep your secrets.” He pointed the mouthpiece of his pipe at the wizard. "But know that I am owed at least one story for what me and Amaranth told you!”

The wizard chucked and agreed.

The next few days were ideal for staying inside and sharing stories, as there were frequent showers, but Bilbo and Gandalf did not manage to meet for a longer conversation. The weather made it impossible to have a picnic, so only a week after Elladan and Elrohir learned of picnics were they able to experience one themselves. That day, it was at last sunny and dry enough, so Bilbo and Amaranth prepared food and tea, packed them into baskets together with cups, plates and bottles that the kitchen staff had allowed them to take, while Elladan and Elrohir brought big blankets - which they swore had not been taken without anyone’s permission - and the four of them headed to the place of the twins’ choosing.

Elladan and Elrohir, having lived in Imladris their whole lives, were the best ones to decide where the most suitable spot for a picnic could be found. They led the hobbits towards the western part of the Valley, to a grove of hornbeams and oaks that surrounded a most perfectly-shaped tree with smooth, silver-grey bark. The underside of its leaves was silver and golden flowers bloomed on its branches. Bilbo and Amaranth gasped in amazement at the sight of it, for they read of this extremely rare tree in the books from Rivendell’s library.

"This is a mallorn,” Elladan said. "A species of tree from Valinor itself, though it grows in the Middle Earth in Lothlórien, the homeland of our mother. We took a mallorn nut from Lothlórien once, without much hope that a tree would grow from it, but we have been blessed, as you see.”

"Thank you for showing it to us,” Bilbo replied solemnly. "Our picnic is really quite special now.”

They spread out the blankets in the mallorn’s shade and the hobbits set the tableware and the refreshments on them. Once this was done, they sat, the twins leaning against the tree’s trunk, Amaranth poured everyone tea and conversation began to flow. Elladan and Elrohir asked many questions about picnics, Bilbo and Amaranth shared some anecdotes about their life in the Shire, then Elladan and Elrohir spoke more about mallorns and Lothlórien. Several pleasant hours passed like this and they all but forgot about the rest of the world.

Then, Elladan and Elrohir both froze and seemed to be listening to something attentively. The change in their behaviour was so sudden and unexpected that the hobbits noticed it at once, and they were straining their ears with such intent that Bilbo and Amaranth grew anxious.

"Is something the matter?” Bilbo said.

"There is a rather large group somewhere in the area,” Elrohir said. "The trees speak of it. They are saying that it is a group of dwarrow.”  

“Dwarrow?!” Bilbo cried.

Elladan hummed. "Trees are always wary of them.”

"Are the dwarrow coming here?” Amaranth said.

"That can be rather hard to find from trees,” Elrohir replied with a good-natured chuckle. "They do not conceive direction or distance in any way that we do.”

The hobbit lass frowned, confused. "So how that they know of that group of dwarrow nearby?”

"Those whose the dwarrow passed by tell other trees,” Elladan said, "And those trees tell others, and so the information spreads, in all the directions in which their roots and leaves can touch.”

"Oh,” Amaranth gasped quietly, amazed. "My, do trees simply gossip then?”

The twins laughed out loud.

"No,” Elrohir said. “Not in the sense of wanting to spread rumours. They do share what they found from others, however, and some aspects of the information can become removed from the truth as it is passed from one to another, just as is the case with gossip.”

"So can it be certain that it is a group of dwarrow nearby?” Bilbo asked.

Elladan placed a palm of his hand on the mallorn’s trunk gently. "Yes, that is quite certain indeed. The wariness of dwarrow is ages-old wisdom that trees know.” The expression on his face darkened. "They have learned very long ago that the children of Aulë are among those races which fell them.”

"Would the trees be scared if the dwarves came here?” Amaranth said.

"No,” Elrohir replied assuredly, "They know that in Imladris, they are safe.”

Their picnic resumed briefly after this but then they heard birds making high-pitched cries of warning in the distance.

"It seems they really are coming here,” Ellrohir said.

"Perhaps we could go meet them now?” Elladan said. "If they intend to stay with us, we should see how many we would host.”

The hobbits agreed. The four of them quickly packed what they had brought, said goodbye to the mallorn, and then walked towards the edge of the Valley from which they had heard the birds. Amaranth appeared rather excited; Bilbo was too shocked. He had been utterly convinced that there would be no dwarrow coming to Rivendell - after all, what purpose could they have here ? And who could they be?

It was a group of dwarrow travelling from the West to Erebor or the other way around, Bilbo could think of no other explanation. This, however, did not answer why they would wish to seek Rivendell in the first place. Could their coming signal some trouble? Bilbo thought this was likely; dwarrow and elves rarely ever could exist together in peace.

Suddenly, the hobbit felt the overwhelming urge to hide. He had no wish to deal with any bothersome affair and would much rather return to his lovely rooms, thank you very much! He patted his pockets in search of his magic ring - he liked to carry it whenever he went in case the need to hide arose - but he did not have it on him this time. He lamented in his mind how wonderful it would be to slide it on his finger and disappear from everyone’s view. Although, he wondered, would the trees still know he was there? Would they tell Elladan and Elrohir that he was slipping away? He glared at the trees around with suspicion and, as if in punishment, almost tripped over a root.

Now Bilbo watched where he was going most carefully and only lifted his gaze from the ground at Elrohir’s words.

"Here they come!”

Bilbo gasped in shock as he saw them. Not more than twenty yards away, there was over two dozen dwarrow walking the path decdening into the Valley, and at the head of the group was none other than King Thorin.

King Thorin was leading his pony by the reins and a large raven was perched on the saddle, one which Bilbo thought he recognised as the one who had delivered the notes from the King when Amaranth had been ill in Ered Luin. The keen eyes of the bird spotted the hobbits and the twin half-elves before any of the dwarrow did. It made a loud sound akin to an exclamation of ‘Baggins!”, causing the King to stop abruptly in his tracks, and spread its wings to take flight.

"Ho there!” Elladan called just as the raven took off into the air.

King Thorin’s gaze snapped to them, and then Bilbo looked into the beloved eyes he had thought he would never see with his own ever again.

Chapter Text

King Thorin’s raven flew towards Bilbo, and when it was close to the hobbit, it stretched its legs out, signalling the wish to land. Bilbo put down the basket he had been carrying and offered his forearm. The raven perched itself on it swiftly, so large that its head was level with Bilbo’s.

"Baggins!” it cried, flapping its wings excitedly.

"Well, hello!” Bilbo said. "I’m quite happy to see you too!”

"Nuts?” the raven replied.

Bilbo laughed. "I do not have any for you this time.”

"Rimac," King Thorin said. "Do not bother Mater Baggins, please.”

The sound of the King’s voice nearly made Bilbo sway on his feet, but he managed to keep his composure, distracted by Rimac, who made a rather pelutant sound. The raven jumped off Bilbo’s arm and flew back to the King’s saddle.

"Welcome back, Thorin Oakenshield,” Elrohir said.

"I do not believe we have met,” the King replied.

"We have not, but our father spoke of you. You have the bearing of the line of Durin.”

"We are sons of Elrond. I am Elrohir.”

"And I am Elladan.”

"Well met, sons of Elrond,” King Thorin replied and bowed his head graciously, to Bilbo’s shock.

"You have brought quite many with you,” Elladan said. "If you seek to stay at the House of our father, you must know that we may not have enough rooms to house all of you.”

"That is fine,” the King said. “All we ask is a place to stretch our bedrolls and rest.”

"Very well then. If Rimac would be so kind, could he fly ahead to the House and pass a message to someone of your coming?”

The raven shook its feathers and observed Elladan with its clever eyes, as if contemplating the request. Elladan then spoke to Rimac in Sindarin, saying that his help would be appreciated and certainly rewarded. Rimac seemed to understand him and took off into the air without more consideration.

When Rimac disappeared from sight, Bilbo’s attention was drawn to King Thorin immediately. He could not tear his gaze away from him, and the dwarf’s piercing blue eyes never left him. Bilbo’s heart pounded so loudly that he could not hear his thoughts. So astounded was the hobbit by the very fact of King Thorin’s presence in Rivendell - which he had believed with utmost conviction to be utterly impossible - that he could not find the ability to move or speak at all.

Then, a voice familiar to Bilbo cried, "Oh, Bilbo! By Mahal, it is you!”

The hobbit was all the more shocked to see his friend Umí approaching him briskly with her husband Seis. Bilbo was so happy to see them that he forgot about King Thorin.

"My friends!” he exclaimed, grinned, and strode towards them.

The dwarrow couple and Bilbo met halfway and shared the most heart-warming greeting one could behold. Seis embraced Bilbo and pressed their forehead together, then Umi did the same. All three chuckled with joy.

"Oh, the Maker is beyond kind!” Seis said. "We thought we’d never see you again after you left the Mountains so abruptly!”

"I do apologise for leaving without saying goodbye - ’

"No apology is necessary,” Umí said kindly. "We understood the circumstances were dire. Is your cousin well now? She returned to the Shire, last we heard.”

"She is quite well indeed!” Bilbo said. He searched for Amaranth with his gaze, wishing to call her to join them, and found her in a conversation with Lady Yani already. They both smiled widely and held their hands together as they spoke, which surprised Bilbo a great deal, as he had not known that such familiarity had developed between them. "She’s here with me, in fact.”

"Oh!” the dwarrow couple cried in happy surprise.  

"Why, you being here with your cousin is a surprise too,” Seis said. "You surely have yet another story to tell!”

"As do you,” Bilbo replied. "I take it that you’re now returning to Erebor, but I must say I would’ve never thought that you’d pass through Rivendell on your way.”

"Aye, I don’t think we would consider coming here if we travelled by ourselves,” Umi said, ‘But the King decided that we should make a stop here.”

"The King did?” Bilbo said with surprise, which he could not hide.

The hobbit’s gaze strayed back to where the King was standing, now accompanied by his sister, her lady-in-waiting and Amaranth. The hobbit lass seemed to somehow realise that Bilbo’s attention was on them and looked to him.

"Bilbo!” she called and gestured at him to come to them.

Bilbo excused himself to Seis and Umi and did as she wanted. As he approached the head of the group, he walked past quite a few dwarrow he recognised from when they had come to Tuckborough with the King or from when he had met them in the Blue Mountains. The hobbit would have been much more shocked by one face in particular that he saw if it were not for how distracted he was. Indeed, all he could think about was the fact that each step he took brought him closer to standing face to face with Thorin Oakenshield again. The dwarf’s blue eyes watched him, and Bilbo’s legs grew weak. Drawing a calming breath, he smiled to conceal his nervousness and came to stand by Amaranth’s side.

"Here he is!” she said. "Just as I do not know how to thank you, King Thorin, I do know how to thank Bilbo now for all he’s done.”

"It was nothing, really,” Bilbo said.

"Do not ever say so, dear Bilbo!” Amaranth replied. "Just think how miserable I would’ve been for the rest of my days if you hadn’t brought me here to heal.”

"Thankfully, we shall never know,” he said and exchanged greetings with Lady Dís and Lady Yani. When it came to greet the King, Bilbo hesitated; he hardly knew what to say. He regarded Thorin for what he realised had to be too long and blurted a breathless hello.

"Hello, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo was reminded of the way Thorin had greeted him in Tuckborough after they had not seen each other for years, for it had been just as formal. Yet, this time, the dwarf did not speak in the same cold manner and only seemed cautious instead.

"What brings you to Rivendell?” Bilbo said to the King more than to anybody else, but it was his sister who answered.

"Why, Thorin said that this would be the best place for us to rest!” she said, and Bilbo was yet again taken aback. "We have been travelling for a month now and there are some among us who are elderly; a place to recuperate is needed indeed.”

"I see,” Bilbo said, though he did not believe that King Thorin could have decided to come to this realm of elves so willingly. He knew how greatly the dwarf had disliked staying here before.

"Rivendell has been recommended by Amaranth as well,” Lady Yani said. "Her praise has been endless.”

"And it is all deserved!” Amaranth replied. "I do say, there’s nowhere better for anyone to find rest. You shall not regret having come here.”

"It does seem that staying here has done you much good, Miss Brandybuck, you look very well,” Lady Dís said. :As do you, Master Baggins. Downright radiant he is, don’t you agree, Thorin?”

Bilbo was too stunned by her remark to speak and blushed bright red. Thorin, too, seemed embarrassed by her directness and did not reply.

"I would certainly agree,” a new voice said, "If I may be so forward.”

The dwarf who had joined the conversation was none other than Loar. The dwarf looked just as fine as he had when he and Bilbo had passed each other in Thorin’s Halls, and he looked upon the hobbit with the same admiration. Bilbo could not be more astonished by Loar’s sudden appearance; he barely managed to gather enough composure to say anything when Lady Dís introduced him and Loar.

"Master Burglar,” Loar said after he bowed to Bilbo. "I’m glad we can officially meet at last.”

"I’m sure you’re aware,” Lady Dís said, "How eager Master Loar has been to make your acquaintance.”

"Extremely eager,” Loar said with a winsome smile.

"Let’s move on,” King Thorin said sharply.

At the King’s barked order, Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a quick look of understanding and dawning amusement.

"Allow us to lead you into the House,” Elrohir said, and King Thorin agreed.

The twins walked by the King as they showed the way and talked with him, though the dwarf did not show much care for conversing with the two half-elves and often glanced back at those following their lead. Elladan and Elrohir were not offended; in fact, they were entertained, for they realised it was Bilbo the King kept looking at. The hobbit himself did not notice this, as he was speaking with Loar about their backgrounds; it was a casual conversation one usually had when becoming acquainted with someone. Yet, the King lost interest in it only once it ended as they approached the entrance to the Last Homely House. There, Lord Elrond, together with Gandalf, awaited. The Lord greeted his new guests, and the wizard greeted King Thorin and his sister.

Lord Elrond then asked the dwarrow to follow him to their accommodations. Bilbo and Amaranth excused themselves and promised their companions to see them at dinner. The hobbits returned the things they brought to the picnic to the kitchens and headed to their rooms after that. All the while, Amaranth chatted excitedly about the new unexpected guests. Bilbo made little contributions to their conversation, for until he entered his own rooms, he was struggling to comprehend the fact that Thorin Oakenshield had come to Rivendell.

Thorin Oakenshield was in Rivendell! What else might one in Bilbo’s situation consider this if not a blessing from the Valar themselves? The hobbit could hardly believe the fortunate coincidence. With a happy smile, he changed and got ready for dinner, and if he took special care to dress his curls and wear the best waistcoat he had brought with him to Rivendell, it was no one’s business but his own.

Though Bilbo was pleased with how he now looked, the special attention he paid to his appearance made him late to dinner; when he entered the dining room, everyone was already seated and food was being served. King Thorin sat at the high table with Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, Gandalf, and Lady Dís. Bilbo was surprised to see that Yani was not attending to her lady, and he spotted her instead in his own usual seat next to Amaranth, at another table. He did not mind his seat being taken at all, however, for this gave him a perfect excuse to sit with Seis and Umí. The couple seemed to have this exact wish: when they noticed Bilbo, they called him to join them, and he accepted the invitation happily.

The three then exchanged stories about what had happened since they had seen each other last. Bilbo told Seis and Umi of his memorable birthday party, Asphodel’s elopement and marriage, and of how it had come to pass that he found himself in Rivendell with Amaranth. His friends told him of their preparations to leave the Blue Mountains permanently, the difficult goodbye with their daughter and her family, and what they planned to do when they settled in Erebor. At one point, Amaranth joined them.

All in all, it was a dinner so enjoyable that Bilbo did not notice the passing of time and was surprised when Lord Elrond rose from his seat, bringing the meal to an end. Elrond and the members of his household headed to the music hall, while the new dwarrow guests decided to retire for the night.

As King Thorin was taking his leave, his piercing eyes found Bilbo and lingered on him. Bilbo gathered all his courage and offered the King a small smile. The dwarf’s gaze softened and filled with warmth. The corners of his mouth turned upwards slightly. He bowed his head to Bilbo and only then exited the room.

Out of all the surprises of the day, though they were plenty, Bilbo found Thorin’s reaction the most shocking, and he spent a long time after trying to contain the hope rising in his heart for the possibility of rebuilding their friendship.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Bilbo did not make haste to prepare for the day. He washed and dressed with special care once more and all the while wondered if he had not misinterpreted King Thorin’s behaviour from the night before. Given the feelings he harboured, it could very well be that he thought he had seen what he wanted to see. Yet, he could not disregard the fact that, in this instance, his heart and reason were aligned - he was certain that he knew Thorin well enough to understand the dwarf’s expressions correctly. It could not be therefore denied that Thorin had looked at him in the same way he had used to during the parts of the Quest of Erebor when their friendship had been at its strongest. What had brought such a revival in Thorin’s attitude towards him, Bilbo could not fathom, but he was glad and grateful for it all the same. He headed to the dining room in exceedingly high spirits, thinking that nothing would make him happier than speaking with Thorin like he had used to when they had been friends.

When he arrived in the dining room, he found it empty; his leisurely preparation had made him late to breakfast. In the kitchen, he discovered a plate of scones with a note from Amaranth informing him that she would be occupied for the day and would like to bring Lady Yani with her to their afternoon tea, if that was agreeable. Bilbo, with no way to object to this idea, enjoyed the scones with some elderflower juice and decided that he would invite Seis and Umí to the tea, as he thought that Amaranth should not be against him bringing someone as well.

After finishing breakfast and cleaning the plates, he headed to where his friends had told him their accommodation was. The shortest way there led through Rivendell’s largest garden. As he was passing through it, he was surprised to meet Lady Dís by herself, who was looking at mature dandelions in a mildly perplexed manner.

"Good morning, Master Baggins,” she said when she noticed him.

"Good morning, my lady.”

"Do you know, Master Baggins, how is it that some of these plants seem to have grown down?”

Bilbo laughed, quite delighted by the comparison. "These are seeds of dandelions, my lady. When the seeds are mature, each of them has a silver tuft that allows the wind to disperse them.”

"How strange.”

"It’s quite clever, actually. The seeds can be carried away even by a slight gust; this way, dandelions can spread quite far very easily.”

To demonstrate this, Bilbo picked one of the clocks of dandelions and blew at it, releasing multiple seeds into the air. The dwarrowdam hummed and watched them float away.

"Are plants an interest of yours, my lady?”

"Not at all. In fact, aside from the crops which make grain that we store in our mountains for bread and ale, I barely spare plants a thought, but now I must confess I truly do not have anything better to do than look at all that is growing here. Is there anything else to do in Rivendell?”

"There’s plenty, my lady. There’s something to do here for everyone! Perhaps I could give you a tour of the House, so that you may see for yourself?”

"That is very generous of you, Master Baggins, and I would very much like to accept your offer, though do not feel obliged to entertain me if you have other engagements. You’re not my lady-in-waiting, after all.”

"Has something happened that keeps Lady Yani away?"

"I've released her from her duties; my brother requested her company. He’s showing her the places in Rivendell which were relevant to the Quest, so that she can portray them in the tapestries he commissioned from her. She is going to be quite occupied making sketches of those locations of the next few days, in fact, and I hear that Miss Brandybuck is going to help her in this endeavour... which brings me to something I wished to discuss with you, if I may have a moment of your time?”

"Of course,” Bilbo replied.

Lady Dís sighed. "It is a delicate matter that I would like to discuss, and I do wish to emphasise that I share my concerns with you with the best intentions in mind. I do not mean to cause any offence.”

"I would not accuse you of ill intentions, my lady. What do you wish to discuss?”

"Your cousin, Master Baggins. She seems to have developed... an attachment to Yani.”

"Yes? They’ve become great friends, have they not?”

"Aye, and I can see that Yani considers them as such, but I fear the same may not be said about Miss Brandybuck. She has written to Yani often enough since they parted after her return to the Shire for me to suspect that she could’ve developed an attachment of a different nature.”

Bilbo was greatly surprised; he did not hold this suspicion himself and, until now, had not conceived it as a possibility. 

"Does Lady Yani share your concerns?” he said.

"I cannot say for sure, though I’m certain she’s aware of the implications of such frequent correspondence.”

Bilbo hummed, deep in thought. "And do you know whether Lady Yani has told Amaranth about the One of her heart she lost?”

"That, of course, she must’ve revealed by now, but I do not know whether Miss Brandybuck has been made aware that Yani can love no other; it pains Yani to speak of Jûnis at all, and I think she would say only as much as strictly necessary. That is why I wished to discuss this issue with you; I would hate my lady-in-waiting to bring heartache to one of your kin, and I wonder if you might advise what could be done to prevent it.”

"Well, if Amaranth knows that Yani was engaged to Jûnis to be married, then she must’ve understood that Yani will not have anyone else, at least.”

"How so?” Lady Dís said.

"Us hobbits do not get engaged and married to someone we could not love for the rest of our lives, and we never remarry.”

"That is exceedingly good to hear,” the dwarrowdam replied with a bright smile.

Bilbo did not understand her joy. "This still does not exclude the possibility of Amaranth harbouring affection for Lady Yani,” he said grimly. "A hobbit can love someone even if they know that their love will not be returned.”

How his heart ached as he said this! How wholly sorrowful he felt at the very idea that Amaranth could have been suffering the same fate as he! Bilbo would not wish it upon anyone, least of all her. Immediately, he decided that he would do everything in his power to spare her this terrible heartache, if he could.

"I am to meet both Amaranth and Lady Yani for afternoon tea today, so I shall do my best to observe if I can see anything that may confirm your worries, and if you find yourself in need of entertainment, why don’t you join us, my lady?”

"I shall be very glad to, yes! And if I be so forward as to assume that you’d again be generous and allow me to bring someone with me to the tea, may I take the liberty of inviting Loar?”

"Well, if he’d be willing to join as well, then I don’t see why not.”

“Willing he certainly would be, Master Baggins. More than, I do say; he’s inquired so much about hobbits and about yourself that I’m sure he’d be honoured to have this chance to satiate his curiosity by talking to you personally again.”

A faint blush coloured Bilbo’s cheeks. Loar’s attentions towards him had been as evident to him as they were to Lady Dís; the day before, the dwarf had been eager to learn about his background and the Shire and listened to him most carefully, and answered Bilbo’s questions most happily. He had said that he was going to Erebor with the King as a way to travel to the Iron Hills; the halls of Lord Dáin were his destination as he had wished to see them for many years, since some of his kin had come from there and he had heard great stories of the place from them, and he had felt he could not postpone travelling there any longer now that the roads were safer after the population of orcs and wargs had been greatly decreased after the Battle of the Five Armies.

Bilbo had thought that he would not mind learning more about the Iron Hills, so he could not say he was opposed to the dwarf’s company. "Then I’ll be glad to give him this opportunity,” he said.

"Excellent!” Lady Díd said. "Now, about the tour?”

"Forgive me, my lady, but I wished to meet my friends this morning. How about we set the time later in the day?”

They agreed to meet at one o’clock in the afternoon and parted ways. Bilbo wasted no time in calling on Seis and Umí, whom he found resting with a dozen other dwarrow in one of the halls which had been cleared to allow them to spread their bedrolls. The dwarrow were gathered in one of the corners of the hall, chatting and smoking pipeweed. Bilbo’s friends and their companions welcomed him warmly. A few of them, Bilbo had already become acquainted with as they had come to Tuckborough with the King, but most of them were strangers eager to meet him. Thus, many introductions followed, and then Bilbo was all but begged by all his new acquaintances to share the stories of the Quest of Erebor, particularly of Smaug and the treasure the fire drake guarded, and of the Battle.

As Bilbo told those tales, his listeners looked upon him with growing respect and admiration, and after he shared how he had saved the heirs of Durin on Seis's request, the dwarves bowed to him deeply. Bilbo tried to stop those gestures by saying they were not necessary, as he had done what anyone would have, but to no avail.

"Be not so modest, Bilbo,” Seis said then. "If you dismiss your deeds, one may think that you do not believe it to have importance and, by extension, that you do not regard the line of Durin as important to you, which I do not believe is true.”

"Of course it is not!” Bilbo said. "I count the King and his sister-sons as my dear friends; I’d do anything for them.”

"So you have,” Umí said, "And you mustn’t dismiss how significant it is to us they were saved, which we wish to thank you for.”

Realising his grave mistake, Bilbo replied, "I sincerely apologise if I’ve given anyone the impression that I do not care for the line of Durin suiving. It could not be further from the truth! If the King and his sister-sons had not survived, my heart would’ve been broken with no hope of mending. What has always made me so reluctant to accept recognition of my deeds is that I’ve seen everyone else from the Company do the same as I did - save the lives of their friends. During the Quest, my friends saved each other many times over, and I so wish their bravery would be told of as often as mine.”  

"Then tell us,” one of the dwarrow said, "Tell us of their bravery.”

The tales of bravery of his friends were indeed many, and telling all of them took a long while. Thus, once he could finally have a conversation solely with Seis and Umí, Bilbo wasted no time to mention the tea in the afternoon and who would be there. To this, Seis and Umi said nothing, and as he extended an invitation, he was surprised to see that they were not inclined to accept it.

"We’d hate to impose, Bilbo,” Umí said.

"You’d not impose at all!”

"It seems you shall be very occupied, though,” Seis said. "How about some other day?”

Accepting his defeat, Bilbo insisted instead that they join him on the tour with Lady Dís, but they refused again, claiming that they would hate to be a bother. Bilbo did not like it at all, as he suspected their reluctance to be in the dwarrowdam’s company could stem from their knowledge of her disregard for Seis (which she voiced to Bilbo in the Blue Mountains). With this thought in mind, he did not try to persuade them to agree to join, and instead convinced them to allow him to give them a tour and have tea with them tomorrow. Then, promising to see them at dinner, he left to have luncheon before meeting Lady Dís; he had already missed second breakfast and elevenses in all the fuss since morning!

It took almost two hours for Bilbo to show Lady Dís everything in the Last Homely House. The forge was the place where they stopped the longest, as they were elven smiths there at work, and the dwarrowdam wished to watch them work and talk to them about their techniques of melting metal, which she said were actually dwarven. The discussion she had with the smiths about the origin of those techniques seemed to engage her greatly, and after, she seemed to look upon the House with a more appreciative eye; thus Bilbo considered the tour a success.

They fetched Loar and arrived at the terrace of the dining room just as the bell rang three. There, Amaranth and Lady Yani already awaited them. Amaranth invited the dwarven companions to sit while she and Bilbo prepared everything, but they would not hear of it and insisted on helping. So, they all went to the kitchens, where they put a kettle on the fire and would brew the tea once the water boiled, warming pastries in the meantime. Bilbo offered to lay the table, as he usually did - since he knew Amaranth disliked doing it and much preferred to brew the tea, and he himself did not mind it - and Amaranth gladly agreed. So, he gathered the needed tableware and excused himself before anyone could offer him help.

He lay the table leisurely, enjoying a moment of solitude. His need for a bit of quiet had been great, so he was quite irritated when he heard heavy footsteps approach. When he saw exactly who it was that had disrupted his peace, however, his annoyance was abruptly cut short.

"Thorin!” he cried.

"Master Baggins,” the King said, wide-eyed.

They both looked at each other wordlessly until Bilbo regained his ability to speak.

"How do you find Rivendell for the second time?”

"I have yet to form any definitive opinion.”

"Oh.”

Silence fell between them. Bilbo realised this was their first private conversation since they had talked during his rushed departure from the Blue Mountains after Amaranth’s accident, and at once he became very flustered. He wished to say so many things that he could not force a word out of his mouth!

"Your family,” Thorin said.

"Yes?”

"Are they in good health?”

"They are, thank you. Amaranth, you may be pleased to find - though you probably already know it - has almost recovered completely from illness caused by her injuries after the accident.”

King Thorin hummed. "And you? Are you in good health?”

"I’m very well indeed, thank you,” Bilbo replied. "And are you well?”

"I am, my thanks.”

Neither found anything more to say. Bilbo could not fail to observe that Thorin seemed rested and must have washed his hair the night before, for it shone beautifully in sunlight. The ease in Thorin’s demeanour made him all the more attractive in Bilbo’s eyes, which made the hobbit want to avert his gaze, lest he let it linger for too long. Yet, it was the way Thorin looked at him - again like the trusted companion he had used to be to the dwarf - that made him too abashed. Clearing his throat, he returned to setting the table.

"Have I disturbed you?’ Thorin said.

"Oh no, not at all!” Bilbo said. He sounded too loud for his ears. "I was only about to finish; we’re going to have tea. Would you like to join us?”

"I must admit that I’ve never had tea.”

"I beg your finest pardon? You... have never had tea.”

"I have drunk it, but not in the way hobbits do, I imagine.”

"Why, that is absolutely unacceptable! Hobbits take tea in the best possible way, I’ll have you know. You simply must join us now, this will not do!”

The King chuckled and seemed by all means quite in favour of accepting Bilbo’s invitation, but then Loar appeared, carrying a tray with a large teapot.

“I am so sorry if we have kept you waiting, Master Baggins,” he said. "The ladies shall be here very soon, but they’ve sent me ahead with the tea. Your Majesty!” He set the tray on the table, then bowed low before the King. "May we ask for the honour of your presence as we have tea? I am sure you know that the company present shall be more than fine.”

Loar said this with such a look at Bilbo that there was no doubt as to whose company exactly he thought of as ‘more than fine’. This displeased the King greatly - his demeanour became at once stern, and his gaze turned hard and cold as steel. “Then I shall keep you no longer from the pleasure of such company,” he said and strode away, his fists clenched at his sides.

Before Bilbo could decide whether he should follow the King and try to convince him to join them, Loar asked if he should pour the tea now, to which Bilbo had to reply that pouring the tea was only done once everyone was seated. Then the ladies arrived with pastries, thus bringing the last of the provisions, so everyone took a seat and tea could be poured.

As conversation commenced, Bilbo tried his best to observe Amaranth’s behaviour towards Lady Yani in search of confirmation or refutation of Lady Dís’s suspensions. Yet, he quickly realised that his observations would not result in any discovery. Amaranth was of a more guarded disposition, and it was challenging to determine the workings of her inner world just from looking at her countenance. Only in her eyes could Bilbo see signs of fondness for the dwarrowdam, though he could not determine whether this fondness stemmed from love or friendly affection.

Relying on the fact that the feelings closest to his heart which he himself could keep hidden still tended to reveal themselves in his decisions, Bilbo considered that Amaranth’s heart might be more accurately observed through her actions. Yet, the lass’s preference for Lady Yani’s company, her passion for weaving which the dwarrowdam was the one to ignite in her, and the frequent letters she had apparently written to her friend all still left Bilbo at loss, for to him, it all could indicate either strong friendship just as well as romantic feelings.

Bilbo was distracted from his helpless contemplations by Loar, who struck conversation with him while Amaranth, Lady Dís and Lady Yani talked about the journey ahead to Erebor.

"Is tea a ceremonial occasion in the Shire, Master Baggins?”

"It can be, if one expects some important guests to join, but generally it is only one of the meals we eat during the day.”

"I’ve heard hobbits eat seven meals a day, but surely, that can’t be correct?”

"Not many of us eat seven meals a day; we usually just have six.”

"Six?! Forgive me if this is a rude question, but how is it possible for people of such small frames to eat so much?”

Bilbo shrugged his shoulders. "Most of us work the land in order to be able to produce the food, and those of us who don’t labour in the fields are not idle either. We need the energy for all of it.”

"Of course, that is sensible. The Shire must be a blessed land to be able to provide so much produce. I remember that my grandfather, when he was still the administrator of the Halls, wished to establish trade with the Shire once, as he was there was not yet enough food for winter in our storage. I remember that the hobbits were not interested in gold, silver, or any metal or jewel as a form of payment, and it was a challenge to reach an understanding as to what would be accepted in exchange for the food. My grandfather even sent my father to meet with the representatives of your people so that the deal could be finalised. I was still a youngster then, and I was so fascinated by the folk who cared not for gold that I dearly wished to accompany my father on the journey. He did not let me join, but I was not deterred and decided to follow him in secret as he travelled. Mind, I was young and inexperienced, so it took my father only two days to realise he was being followed, and when he noticed me hiding in the bushes, he had to chase me for a good while until he managed to catch me!”

"That had to be quite an adventure,” Bilbo said with a laugh.

"Nothing compared to yours but I still consider it a good adventure, even though my father gave me the scolding of my life and sent me back.”

"I wouldn’t consider an adventure in terms of being ‘good’, Master Loar. All adventures, big and small, are quite pesky things, and make you late to dinner!”

The dwarf chuckled. "And yet, all adventures can be a source of good, for they allow one to discover so much about oneself and the world that there’s hardly any other way to match adventures when it comes to learning, as you and I both realise.”

"You presume to know me rather well,” Bilbo said.

"In my heart,” Loar murmured, leaning towards the hobbit, "I know you intimately.”

Bilbo did not reply, flustered. He hardly knew what an appropriate response should be to such a heartfelt confession, especially given the fact that he did not reciprocate the sentiment. Loar, at least, did not seem offended by Bilbo’s lack of response and only regarded him closely. Bilbo noted that the dwarf’s eyes were a peculiar shade of dark grey mixed with dark green that he had not seen in anyone before in his life.

"Master Baggins!” Elladan said.

Elladan’s appearance next to the table was so unexpected to Bilbo that he nearly jumped up into the air from his seat.  

"Elladan,” he gasped, "Hello.”

"Have you seen King Thorin, Master Baggins?”

"He has passed through here earlier.”

The half-elf thanked him and took his leave. Bilbo found it strange that Elladan should seek the King here, but he thought no more of it.

Soon, the afternoon tea was finished, and after that there was dinner. Before Bilbo knew it, the day had passed and he realised, to his frustration, that the inconsequential chat before the tea was the only conversation with Thorin he had managed to have!

Chapter Text

On the third day of the stay of the unexpected dwarrow guests in Rivendell, Bilbo rose and readied himself for the day early enough to meet Amaranth, Lady Yani and Lady Dís in the dining room. As they broke their fast together, he told Amaranth of having invited Seis and Umi to the afternoon tea, to which Amaranth reacted with warm enthusiasm. She asked Lady Yani if she would join them for the tea as well, but the dwarrowdam declined. She claimed to still have a lot of sketches to complete and was not persuaded by Amaranth’s offer to help her with sketching again so that she could spare some time in the afternoon.

Bilbo wondered if Yani’s refusal could be attributed to avoidance; after all, the company of the parents of her lost beloved could bring her pain. Umí and Seis might return this same sentiment, he realised. This would also explain the reluctance of the couple to join the tour of Rivendell with Lady Dís, as they had surely expected the lady-in-waiting to be present.

Having understood this, Bilbo did not insist on Lady Yani coming to tea and gently steered Amaranth away from her pursuit of convincing the dwarrowdam, who promptly asked to be excused to continue with her sketching until dinner. Lady Dís granted her permission at once. Amaranth offered to accompany Lady Yani, which the dwarrowdam agreed to. The two finished breakfast and took their leave quickly after.

Once they left, Lady Dís said, "Have you formed any judgment regarding the concerns I shared with you, Master Baggins?”

"Not yet, my lady. I shall need to observe Amarnath’s behaviour around Lady Yani further, and if this doesn’t lead me to any conclusion, I might need to have a conversation with Amarnath.”

"I see. I was about to ask you to accompany me, as I am to take Master Loar around Rivendell. I told him of the tour you gave me, and he asked to be shown around as well, and I’m certain you would make a far better guide than I, but if you’d rather be with your cousin, then by all means feel no obligation to join us.”

Bilbo quickly decided that there still should be enough opportunities to observe Amaranth and Lady Yani. He did not wish to intrude as he would today without any prior arrangement; he would rather make plans together with them tomorrow. Therefore, he accepted Lady Dís’s invitation. Even though he had already promised a tour to Seis and Umí, he did not mind giving one more tour than he had planned, for he anticipated Loar to be an appreciative subject. Since the dwarf had demonstrated such curiosity in hobbits, Bilbo supposed he would enjoy learning more about elves as well.

It soon became clear that Loar was at most politely interested in elves, and seemed to pay more attention to Bilbo than to what Bilbo was showing in the House or describing. Only once they entered the smithy and Lady Dís told him of the techniques she had seen the elven smiths use did Loar finally show genuine interest. Then, Lady Dís noted that one work station was unoccupied, and she promptly began inspecting it.

"This is just the kind of hammer and anvil my brother enjoys working with,” she said. "If only anything could stop him from fulfilling his duties all the time! Say, Master Baggins, have you any idea what I must do to tear him away from his correspondence, constant planning and preparing, so that he would spend an afternoon to his own enjoyment?”

Bilbo hummed, considering the question. "I suppose you would have to hide all his letters, ink and parchment, teach his raven not to listen to him anymore, then threaten him with assigned bedrest under watch if he doesn’t take a break. You would also need to brace yourself for a staring match and him invoking his authority as King not to listen to you.”

Lady Dís roared with delighted laughter. "Oh, but you know him so well! You could make him do anything, how splendid!”

Bilbo blushed at this remark. "I think we both know that it is not possible to force Thorin to do anything. One can merely... influence his options.”

Lady Dís laughed again.

"It seems you do know His Majesty very well,” Loar said, a touch cooly.  

"Well, that was an inevitable outcome, if one takes into account what we’ve been through together on the Quest. Such trials could only create the strongest of friendships! Everyone in the Company has become great friends with each other.”

Bilbo’s response warmed Loar’s demeanour significantly, though the hobbit did not take much note of it, as his heart and mind became filled with sadness. Remembering the friendships among the Company made him miss his friends dearly, especially because he had not seen some of them since he had left Erebor eight years ago. Not for the first time, but perhaps with the greatest strength of feeling so far, he wished he could reunite with all of his friends.

The tour concluded soon after. Bilbo left his two companions to have a quick lunch in the kitchens. As he was leaving, he came across Elrohir.

"Master Baggins, I am so glad that I have found you!” the half-elf said. “I wished to let you know that we shall invite our dwarrow guests to an evening performance of the songs of the elves and the men, which would take place after dinner. I was wondering if we could count on your attendance, if you would be willing to join?”

"Why, yes, of course!”

"Excellent,” Elrohir said and took his leave.

Bilbo thought it a bit strange that Elrohir had to confirm Bilbo’s attendance, but he could not guess the reason for it, and thought of it no more. He quickly found Seis and Umí, who were again resting where they had been accommodated with all the other dwarrow whom Bilbo had met the day before. They greeted Bilbo warmly and invited Bilbo to sit with them and exchange more stories.

"But we must away!” Umí said. "I’m rather curious about what you’re going to show us, Bilbo.”

"Aye, lead the way!” Seis added.

Bilbo was more than happy to oblige. As he began showing his friends around Rivendell, he found them as appreciative as he had thought Loar should be; they listened to what Bilbo told them of elves and their history carefully, and even asked questions. When Bilbo guided them to the smithy, he expected them to like that place the most of all in the Last Homely House. Yet, he certainly did not expect to receive a lengthy lecture from Seis in which he explained to Bilbo exactly how some of the techniques the elven smiths were using were of dwarven origin, and how some of their ways were different. Seis spoke at length about how ores were smelted, various melting points of metals, and many more particulars of metalwork that Bilbo could not begin to comprehend it all.

When Bilbo was approaching the point when his head would start spinning from the overload of information, Umí laughed good-naturedly and said to her husband, "My dear, but you shall make our Bilbo detest the very word ‘metal’ if you say it one more time! Save your passion to share with one less struggling to understand you, my treasure. What would you like us to see next, Bilbo?”

The bell had rung a quarter to three some time ago, so Bilbo showed to where they should have tea. There, Amaranth was already waiting with a teapot and a plate of biscuits. The table was not yet set, and Bilbo took care of it quickly. 

As they sat down together and began enjoying the tea and refreshments, the conversation centred on Rivendell. Seis and Umí told Amaranth of all the places in the House they had seen, and how they had come to enjoy staying here, which Amaranth strongly seconded with her own experiences. Then, Seis raised the subject of the journey ahead of them and asked Bilbo about what they could expect. The first thing Bilbo mentioned that he thought significant was the trek though the Misty Mountains - he warned that they should expect it to be difficult and dangerous - but the effort made when crossing the Mountains should be greatly rewarded once they find themselves on the other side and behold the mighty Lonely Mountain for the first time. As Bilbo described the great feeling of hope he had experienced when he saw the sole peak for the first time as he stood upon the Carrock and how impressive the Mountain had looked at a closer distance, Seis and Umi were smiling bright and with excitement.

"You make it sound like the most splendid sight!” Seis said. "I cannot wait to see it! Have you ever wanted to see it again yourself, Bilbo?”

"I have, yes, but there are many commitments that I have as Master of Bag End and the head of the Baggins clan, and it is a very long journey to the Mountain; I could not simply run out of my door again.”

"Oh, but you could take a break,” Amaranth said, "Now that Drogo is acting in your stead. I’m sure it would be no trouble if you wish to go.”

"Going to Erebor is no going on a picnic!” Bilbo retorted.

Before he could make his point further, Umí asked, "What does going on a picnic entail? I have not heard of such a thing.”

Her question prevented the impending debate between the two hobbits. Amaranth happily explained what picnics were and how they were practised by their kind.

"Well, a journey such as that to Erebor is no thing of leisure for sure,” the dwarrodam said once she understood picnics.

"Exactly!” Bilbo exclaimed. "And if I wanted to go to the Lonely Mountain, I’d need someone to accompany me; travelling so far alone would be silly.”

"I could be your travel companion,” Amaranth replied, "If you do decide to make that journey.”

"You’d wish to travel so far?” 

"If my accident and illness taught me anything, then it is to seize opportunities as they arise; one never knows how much time will be given to them. If you travelled to Erebor, then I would love nothing more than to go with you. My stay in Rivendell has made me want to see even more of the world.”

This gave Bilbo a lot to ponder. Amaranth’s wish to go to Erebor painted a picture of the future that at once made his heart ache and filled it with joy. On the one hand, he would miss living in Bag End with Primula and her family most terribly, and he would not see little Frodo grow up for at least a year or two while he was gone. It would also weigh on his conscience to be the one cause for Amaranth’s separation from her family for such a long time. Thirdly, Bilbo was rather reluctant to ask Drogo to fulfil the responsibilities of the Master of Bag End and head of the Bagginses for so much longer; even though Bilbo did not doubt that Drogo would be willing to do so, it was no small request.

Yet, if Drogo relieved Bilbo of his duties, then very little would stand in the way of him being able to leave for the Lonely Mountain. Now that Bilbo could see indications of King Thorin being open to rebuilding their friendship, he was no longer unsure of his welcome in Erebor. Indeed, the only thing that could prevent him and Amaranth from embarking on such an adventure would be if Amaranth did not return to full health or, Bilbo perished the thought as it appeared, her health worsened. Having this in mind, he determined that he should discuss whether it was feasible for Amaranth to travel the distance to the Lonely Mountain before he let his excitement grow. He hoped to talk to Lord Elrond at dinner to set the time for a discussion, yet the Lord was unfortunately absent (as was King Thorin and Gandalf).

During dinner, Elladan and Elrohir extended the invitation for all dwarrow to come to the music hall to enjoy the evening of singing. The best songs of elves and men would be performed, they said, and the dwarrow were also welcome to sing any songs of their people they were willing to share. This elicited a murmur of interest from the dwarrow guests, and once the dinner was finished and Elrond’s sons asked to follow them to the music hall, the majority of the dwarrow did. Bilbo went with Seis and Umí but upon reaching the door of the room, he excused himself, saying that he wished to enjoy some fresh air. From where he stood, he could see that Lord Elrond and Gandalf were already inside, seated at the high table. Lady Dís, her lady-in-waiting, Amaranth and Loar were making their way to the table following Elladan.

Bilbo knew he could join them, even talk to Elrond about Amaranth if he wanted, but he chose to linger by the entrance for a while. King Thorin simply had to have been invited, he reasoned, and he wished to see if he had accepted. Perhaps,Bilbo thought, he could mention the idea of his coming to Erebor and find Thorin’s reaction.

After a few minutes of anxious wait, Bilbo heard the familiar heavy footsteps, and the King of Durin Folk stood before him.

"Thorin! You have come for the evening singing!”

"I was hoping that Elrond could read more moon runes for me. Have I come to the wrong place?”

Thorin said this with a perfectly straight face but with a spark of good humour in his eye, and Bilbo, quite suddenly even to himself, burst into loud laughter.

"Are you truly the same Thorin I followed on the Quest?” he said jokingly. "I hardly recognise you; the Thorin I know would loath to listen to elven songs, in Rivendell especially!”

"The Thorin you had got to know should’ve already possessed the wisdom that you had at the time. Alas, I’ve tardily accepted that Elron’s generosity and hospitality are not to be slighted.”

Bilbo was much surprised by this and did not comment on the King’s unexpected humility. "Do you plan on staying long at Elrond’s?”

"Around a week more.”

"Only a week? Why, that’s hardly enough to enjoy Elrond’s hospitality! Do you not wish to stay longer?”

"Wish for it I may, but we have a few months of journey ahead of us, as you know, and my return to Erebor is anxiously awaited. Fíli says in his letters that he’s become so weary of ruling as regent that he’s going to need at least four decades to recuperate.”

"Well then,” Bilbo said weakly. His heart became heavy with terrible sorrow - there was so little time left that he could have with Thorin! "Any more delay would be most unwelcome, and I hope that Fíli will forgive you for the length of your absence. You can blame hobbits for all the time you were held up in the Blue Mountains.”

"There’s nothing else to blame for it than misfortune, do not be troubled with it.”

"And yet, I do worry how much trouble the whole affair in Blue Mountains caused, not only for you and Fíli, but for Amaranth as well.” Bilbo took a step towards the King and spoke in a hushed tone, "Your sister suspects that Amaranth might have developed affection for Lady Yani during their blooming friendship.”

The expression on King Thorin’s face darkened. "My sister has many ideas that I would not consider reasonable, Master Baggins,” he said brusquely, then paused. A glint of nervousness showed in his eyes. "And yet, there are certain matters that could remain unsaid in some friendships; one side could be withholding feelings they believe are not reciprocated, and never dare confess, for they do not wish to risk affecting the friendship they so value. I would not wish this fate for Miss Brandybuck or any friend, only foe.”

Bilbo’s heart pounded loudly in his chest. Was it at all possible, he thought anxiously, for King Thorin to know of Bilbo’s feelings for him? There was undeniable earnestness in Thorin’s gaze, which led Bilbo to understand that he spoke from experience, but whose experience was he referring to?

The hobbit did not have the chance to ponder this any more, as their conversation was interrupted by Elrohir’s appearance.

"Your Majesty, I am glad that you accepted our invitation for this evening,” the half-elf said. "May I ask you to sit with my father, brother, and me? You are more than welcome to join us as well, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo, now knowing how little time with Thorin there was left, had no qualms in accepting the offer. Offering Seis and Umi a quick apology as he passed them, the hobbit followed Elrohir to the table at the dias together with King Thorin, where Lady Dís, Lady Yani, Amaranth and Loar were already seated. The King took a seat on the side of his sister, and Amaranth gestured for Bilbo to sit next to her, which put him between her and Loar.

Just after Bilbo was seated, Elladan and Elrohir stood in the middle of the hall and thanked everyone for coming. Then, the sweet melody of harps and flutes filled the air, and the sons of Elrond began to sing the first song of the evening. Their voices were as beautiful as those of elves, and Bilbo quickly forgot all about where he was. Their singing transported Bilbo, as if by some magic, to different times and places, and painted the pictures of stories told by the verses in his mind with such clarity that he felt as though he could see the events with his own eyes. Even when Bilbo did not understand some of the Sindarin or Quenya lyrics at times, the emotion in the voices of the singers conveyed all he needed to know. The only time Bilbo had a similar experience was when he had heard King Thorin and his Company sing ‘The Misty Mountains Cold’ in Bag End.

Bilbo was shaken out of his trance by a remark from Lady Yani, which she said with great disappointment.

"They sing very well indeed, but I wish I could understand what they were singing about.”

Bilbo, with his knowledge of Quenya, provided the general context of the story told in the song, about the Fall of Gil-galad. Then, in a murmured tone, he narrated the meaning of the verses sung.

"The countless stars of... heaven’s field were mirrored in his silver shield... Translating the word into ‘heaven’ here does not convey the original sense exactly, yet no other term would make better sense, though you must take my judgement with a grain of salt; I am a poor Quenya scholar.”

"So I see you are,” Loar said. "You have only enough of the elven tongue to translate it into comprehensible Common Speech at the time of hearing it. You need not say anything more of your ignorance. There is complete proof!”

Bilbo shook his head with a smile. "I should hate to be examined by a real proficient; indeed, I have not spoken Quenya to any of the elves here.”

"You are too modest. The world knows not half of your accomplishments.”

"Master Loar, this is too much flattery.”

"I do not think I could ever flatter you enough.”

Before Bilbo could formulate a response, his attention was drawn away by the sudden movement of King Thorin rising from his seat.

"Do you take my meaning, Bilbo?’ Loar said as Bilbo watched King Thorin head towards the exit of the music hall. "Or must I translate for you?”

The dwarf’s meaning was rather lost on Bilbo, who excused himself promptly and rushed after Thorin. He stood in the King’s way just before the door. For a second, they only held each other’s gaze, while a female elf began to sing a new song.

"Are you leaving already?” Bilbo said.

"Yes.”

"But the singing is good, is it not?

"I do not much care.”

"But will you not...”

"What?” Thorin snapped.

"This is too sudden!”

"Is it?”

"What is the matter with you, Thorin?”

"Nothing,” Thorin scoffed. "Nothing at all.”

It was then that Loar approached them.

"Master Baggins,” he said, "You must come back to explain elven again. Lady Yani dearly wishes to know the words of what she is hearing.”

"I bid you good night,” Thorin said to Bilbo and moved to exit the hall. Bilbo again stood in his way.

"This is a truly beautiful song, about the love of Beren and Luthien! Besides, perhaps you could sing yourself later? Everyone should hear how beautiful you sing! That has to be something worth staying for.”

“No,” Thorin said angrily, “There isn’t anything worth my staying for.”

He was gone momentarily.

Bilbo could not help but draw a comparison between Thorin’s behaviour and the way Rufus acted out of jealousy when he had stormed away after assuming Asphodel’s interest in the King, or his own silly envy as he had noticed Thorin’s interest in Amaranth. But then, this would mean that Thorin cared for him enough to be jealous, as well as that he sincerely believed there was a cause for jealousy, that he thought Loar’s attentions could win him Bilbo’s regard! Indeed, it seemed that Thorin had to believe Bilbo so indifferent to him! The notion was unbearable, and hearing more of Loar’s flattery as the evening progressed was misery.

Chapter Text

Bilbo was exceedingly glad that he met Amaranth in the kitchens early the next morning. While they prepared breakfast, Bilbo and Amaranth arranged to spend the day together with Lady Yani to help her with making sketches. This, he thought, would allow him to avoid Master Loar, as not meeting with him was Bilbo’s objective.

Bilbo could not say that he held any negative feelings towards Loar. Quite the opposite, the hobbit regarded him as a fine dwarf - he found his company agreeable and appreciated his curious nature. The interest he had shown in Bilbo only filled Bilbo with some regret, for there was no possibility Bilbo could ever reciprocate it. In fact, Loar’s attentions solidified beyond any doubt Bilbo’s conviction that his heart and affections belonged unequivocally and unchangingly to Thorin. Even a dwarf as fine as Loar could never begin to compare to Thorin in Bilbo’s view. Another result of Loar’s attentions - the revelation of Thorin’s jealousy - made Bilbo’s heart quiver with such hope that he had to stifle it forcefully lest it would grow too strong. After all, what if Thorin had been jealous only of Bilbo’s developing friendship with Loar and perhaps wished to have the same time with Bilbo to work on mending their own friendship?

Whatever the true cause of Thorin’s disapproval was, the fact that Thorin seemed to believe that Bilbo could care for Loar to any significant degree was utterly ridiculous to the hobbit, and he refused to give Thorin any more reason to uphold such an assumption. Therefore, he did all he could not to be seen in Loar’s company at all - took his breakfast in the kitchen and then wore his magic ring to become invisible as he walked to the stone terrace where Lord Elrond had deciphered the moon runes hidden in Thrór’s map, as Lady Yani was supposed to be working there for the day.

When Bilbo reached the terrace, he found the dwarrowdam and Amaranth already engaged in the task. They were sitting on pillows on the stone floor on two opposite ends of the terrace, sketching the table made of clear stone on which Lord Elond had laid the map. Bilbo took off his ring and made his presence known.

"Good morning! May I help with sketching as well, Lady Yani?”

"Hello, Master Baggins,” she said with a smile. "I’d be more than happy if you helped! I still sometimes admire the sketch of Smaug you’ve made for me; I’d be honoured if you chose to use your talent to assist me. Amarnath said that you’d wished to join us today but please know that you must not feel obliged if you have any other engagements; Amaranth’s help is enough already, and her talent is as great as yours!”

Bilbo looked at his cousin, surprised. A light blush coloured Amaranth’s cheeks. Too curious, Bilbo walked closer to her to peer at her sketch and was astonished to see the beginnings of a stringingly realistic depiction of what Amaranth was aiming to draw, with some excellent shading in a few places already.

"How did you learn to draw so well?” he said.

"I once had this idea to make a book full of dried wildflowers, but I also wanted the pages to show how they looked in real life, so I sketched them before drying them. I enjoyed it very much and started sketching landscapes as well. I especially liked sitting at the banks of Brandywine and drawing the water. Asphodel and Prim liked teasing me sometimes by saying that I knew the pages of my sketchbook better than their faces.”

Bilbo chuckled. "They never mentioned that.”

"Oh, at some point our mother was too concerned about me not socialising enough and had them drag me to outings, and started to engage me in her work as the Mistress of Buckland. Then Prim got married, Frodo was born, and mother was asking me for help with her duties more and more as she aged. I hardly had time to sketch in the past decade.”

"For such a long time with no practice, your sketches are all the more impressive,” Lady Yani said.

Amaranth blushed brighter and murmured her thanks. Bilbo once again had to wonder whether his cousin harboured any romantic feelings towards the dwarrowdam, which could explain Amaranth’s reaction to Yani’s compliment. He was glad that he could now observe how the two interacted without anyone else but him around them, though he soon came to find that they did not behave in any more intimate manner than when he had watched them in the presence of others. In fact, the hobbit lass and the dwarrowdam hardly spoke at all, only worked together on their sketches in comfortable silence.

Bilbo did very much the same in the end. He shared his recollection of the moment when Lord Elrond had laid Thrór's on the table and the moon runes hidden in map had been revealed, describing how the moonlight on that night filled the stone of the table and made it glow so bright that it had seemed to have its own light, and how moon runes appeared in the map. Lady Yani was delighted with his description and asked him to draw what he remembered, which Bilbo did until it was time for lunch.

By then, he and Amaranth had already missed second breakfast and elevenses, as focused on their work as they had been, and their stomachs began growling loudly. Thus, the hobbits told Lady Yani that they needed to take a break and eat.

"Of course!” the dwarrodam said. "Take as much time as you need. And, I must yet again give my heartfelt thanks for your help. To you in particular, Amaranth. I do not think I would’ve managed to produce nearly the same number of sketches without your help. Do hobbits have the gifts of foresight? It’s as though you had known from the start how little time I’d spent in Rivendell; now only five days remain until we move on.”

"Five days?!” Amaranth cried.

"Aye, his Majesty confirmed that this morning.”

Bilbo felt great sorrow at finding this news and could see the same feeling reflected in Amaranth’s pained expression. They went to the kitchens and prepared their meal in grim silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Five days! That is so very soon,” Amaranth spoke at last as they sat down to eat. She sighed and looked at her food morosely. "Here I thought I could throw a picnic for the dwarrow, and now I’m not sure if there is enough time for it.”

"For which dwarrow were you planning to throw a picnic, if I may know?” Bilbo said, too intrigued not to inquire.

"Why, all of them! I know that this would be quite an untraditional and probably rowdy affair but for the life of me, I cannot stop thinking of the image of them sitting on blankets and drinking tea ever since it appeared in my mind.”

Bilbo laughed. "Well then, how about I help you? We could help Lady Yani with sketching, and then we shall prepare the picnic together.”

"That sounds splendid, thank you so much, dear Bilbo!”

The sadness which had weighed upon her now lifted. Her countenance brightened and she began planning the picnic with excitement. She debated with Bilbo the refreshments they would need to prepare, how many blankets, plates and cups would be needed, and who they could engage in helping them with getting everything ready on the day of the picnic. Once they discussed it all, Amaranth started eating her meal with a healthy appetite.

The same could not be said about Bilbo. To him, the food tasted like ash, and he could barely swallow down a bite. His mind was too occupied now with the new truth of the dwarrow’s impending departure - he had even less time than he previously thought to speak with Thorin!

Bilbo excused himself to have a smoke on the terrace of the dining hall, promising Amaranth that he would rejoin her and Lady Yani soon. As he was enjoying a smoke by himself, Gandalf happened to walk past him. The wizard seemed to note Bilbo’s distress and asked if he could join the hobbit, which Bilbo invited him to do.

"I can see that something bothers you, my friend,” Gandalf said as he lit his pipe. "May I be of some help?”

"I doubt that you could help, Gandalf. The dwarves are leaving in five days and from what I know, it is quite decided.”

"Ah.” The wizard regarded Bilbo closely, his grey eyes twinkling. "If their upcoming departure - or the departure of one particular dwarf I believe would be a more accurate presumption - upsets you so, all you must do is to ask. They would gladly stay with you here for some more time.”

"Now, how presumptuous of me would that be! To ask them to stay away from their lives, their relatives, the duties that await them! Utterly presumptuous, and so entitled! That is not how any Baggins would ever behave.”

"And what would a Took do? You always seem to forget you’re as much your mother’s son as you’re your father’s, dear Bilbo. Indeed, your mother might not have even married your father at all had she not asked!”

"What are you talking about, Gandalf? My father asked for her hand, and courted her before that.”

"That is because she asked him to!” Gandalf chuckled at the sight of Bilbo’s incredulous expression. "Belladonna told me of this when I visited Hobbiton once, when you were little. She and I went for a long walk, when we reminisced about the adventures we’d shared. I asked her if she was happy with her new, more settled way of life as a wife and a mother. She replied that she was quite happy indeed and that she would’ve asked for this life again if she had come back in time. I was rather surprised by this statement and asked what she meant. She swore me to secrecy - though in the current circumstance, I do believe she’d be very angry with me if I withheld this story from you - as it amused her endlessly that only she knew the truth of how she and your father became a couple. As she told me, your father met her for the first time in her father’s office when he was meeting with the Tháin regarding some business he was conducting as the head of the Baggins clan. They were introduced but did not have the opportunity to get better acquainted. Somehow, however, the opportunities soon grew aplenty, as Bungo suddenly had a lot more business to work on with the Tháin. Bungo’s visits to Tuckborough became quite frequent, yet each time he was there, he did not approach her! Belladonna could see both his admiring gazes and that he was shy, but after a whole summer, she became tired of his shy admiration. She said that she all but cornered him during one of his visits to her father’s office and told him in no uncertain terms that he would better invite her to a picnic and present her with an important offer, or she should not wait any longer. Bungo understood the message and did indeed invite her to a picnic the very next day, which she said was lovely. Their courtship was officially announced a week later.”

Bilbo smiled, his heart warmed by the story. Knowing the character of both his parents, he did not doubt that everything Gandalf had said was true. He could clearly picture his father being introduced to his mother after she barged into the Thain’s office with some urgent matter to discuss. His father had to have fallen in love with her strong character and looks instantly, Bilbo thought, and had to have yearned for her from afar as he struggled to gather his courage to court her. How intimately Bilbo knew this situation himself! It brought him great, dear comfort to know that he was as helpless in love as his father.

Yet, could he be as brave and decisive as his mother? Since it was not reasonable to not rely upon his and Thorin’s story to develop in the same direction as the story of his parents had, could he also act similarly to his mother? Could he simply march up to King Thorin, confess his feelings, and offer his courtship? He blushed bright red at the very idea.

Just then, as though summoned by Bilbo’s very thoughts, King Thorin appeared. He strode towards them with a stormy expression on his face. With only a brief bow of his head to acknowledge Gandalf, the King spoke to Bilbo in a tone that allowed no argument.

"Master Baggins, may I ask for a moment on the side?”

The hobbit only mustered a nod. Without a word, Thorin turned around and walked towards the nearest corner that shielded them from Gandalf’s view. Once they were out of the wizard’s vision, he swivelled to face Bilbo.

"I have a commission from my sister to pass on to you a message. You may think it is not my place to be engaging in this matter but bear in mind that I speak for her. My sister is aware of the impending courtship between you and Master Loar, and it has occurred to her that you may choose to leave for Erebor with us not to be parted from him. I have been charged to assure you that you are more than welcome to join us as Loar’s companion. There, I’ve done what was asked of me.”

Bilbo was too stunned to speak after hearing this and gaped at Thorin inelegantly.

"Do you wish it? All you need to do is tell me if you wish or not, and we may both be released.”

"I do not understand - ”

"Just say it. Do you wish it, or not?”

Bilbo threw his arms up in the air and made a cry of frustration. "Why has Lady Dís assumed that - ”

"Thorin Oakenshield!” Gandalf’s voice boomed, bringing both of their attention to the wizard who was walking towards them. "It seems you have a particular ability for leaving my hobbit in distress.”

"And you have the particular ability to meddle in the affairs that concern him and me.”

Thorin’s reply to Gandalf did not reach Bilbo’s ears; he had rushed away from the conversation in complete and utter shock. How could this be? He grappled with understanding how the notion that he and Loar should begin courting was believed to be such certainty that it prompted Lady Dís’s action. Was it only the King’s sister who anticipated the courtship, Bilbo wondered with dawning dread, or could it be all the dwarrow present in Rivendell? How ill the thought made him feel!

Bilbo decided to ask the opinion of Seis and Umí at once. He needed to know exactly what others believed about him and Loar, and his friends would be the best source of judgment, he thought, since they had not been involved with Loar. Before he sought them, he went to Amaranth and Lady Yani, asking to be excused and apologising that he would not assist them in sketching in the afternoon. The dwarrowdam replied that it was no trouble and that he could assist them tomorrow if he so wished. Having been thus reassured, Bilbo looked for his friends in the hall where they were accommodated and indeed found them there, enjoying a smoke with the other dwarrow who had been staying there as well. Before Bilbo could suggest going for a walk with his friends, which would create an opportunity for a private conversation, one of the dwarrow, Tuz, invited him to have a smoke with everyone.

Bilbo was indeed in need of yet another smoke to calm his nerves and did not decline. As he sat down on the floor and pulled out his pipe from his pocket, Seis and Umí asked him how he was. Bilbo replied that all was well but his friends noticed that he had not been entirely honest. With concern, they inquired again. Even though Bilbo was too embarrassed to discuss the matter with everyone present, he still told the truth in a way that he hoped would put his friends at ease.

"I’ve just discovered an upsetting rumour,” he said. "That is all.”

"An upsetting rumour?” Tuz said. "There’s plenty a rumour going ‘round about you, Master Baggins, but I wouldn’t reckon any of them would be upsetting to you.”

Bilbo nearly choked on the smoke he had inhaled. "I beg your pardon? What kind of rumours are there?”

"Oh, stop that, Tuz!” another dwarf, Vión, said. "Forgive him, Master Baggins, he’s just a terrible gossip. I’m sure it’s all nonsense, what everyone’s been saying.”

"What has everyone been saying?” Bilbo said, dread once again rising within him.

"Well.” Tuz took a long drag from his pipe. "Mainly that the time when Master Loar asks to court you is nigh.”

‘What?!” Bilbo cried. "How does everyone believe that to be true?!”

"I do not see why you are so surprised, Master Baggins,” Tuz said with puzzlement. "Master Loar has made it very well known how highly he thinks of you. Word travels fast among us, and seeing how you’ve spent many a time in his company, everyone thought you were... open to returning his sentiment.”

"Now, that is just ridiculous!” Bilbo replied. "Why would spending time in someone’s company be any indicator of such matters? By this metric, I’ve been spending just as much time with Lady Dís, for instance, and I could be about to start courting her, were she not married with children!”

All the dwarrow sombered immediately. Bilbo realised that he must have made a great blunder.

"Lady Dís was married,” Umi said gently, "But her husband was killed.”

"Oh Valar,” Bilbo said, feeling faint, "I was not aware - ”

"You indeed had no way of knowing,” the dwarrowdam replied.

"Our Lady forbade everyone from speaking of her husband around her or even saying his name,” Vión said.

"I see,” Bilbo said. His heart ached with sympathy. "I am very sorry that she suffered so, I now feel terrible for having mentioned her being married at all. Gossip is just not good for anything! Indeed, let me now put a stop to any more gossip and tell you all that there shall be no courtship between me and Loar!”

"Is that so?” Umi said. "You shall not accept him?”

"That’s right! I have never wanted courtship with him in the first place.”

All the dwarrow looked between each other with shock. Umí and Seis, though just as surprised as the others, were the only ones who received statement with clear relief.

"Then I have to say that Umi and I are very happy to hear it!” Seis said.

"Why?” Bilbo said, now taken aback himself.

"We have no good opinion of Master Loar,” Umí said. "He comes from a family which has envied and worked against ours, and has shown no indication of being any different from them. He is unkind, Bilbo; no match for you at all.”

"Why, now, you surely do not expect me not to ask you to elaborate,” Bilbo said. "I had no idea you even knew him so well personally!”

"Aye, tell us more!” Tuz said.

Seis sighed heavily. "It is not a pretty story to tell. As you know, Bilbo, my father was held in high esteem by King Thráin because he had made an invaluable contribution in building the Halls in the Blue Mountains. When the Halls were established, King Thrain appointed the administrator, Lanar, Limar’s father and Loar’s grandfather. As the Halls were being developed, Lanar and my father had many disagreements; my father’s stone sense often derailed Lanar’s plans on how the Halls should be expanded. To Lanar’s dismay, my father had the King’s ear more than he, and the last word was usually my father’s. Lanar was greatly displeased by this - he was a Broadbeam noble and my father was not, and Lanar did not think it right that a commoner should be heeded more. In his own ways, Lanar eventually began to retaliate and pushed such regulations that, among other things, led to my father losing his forge and me never being able to own one myself. Lanar also trained his son Limar to take over his role once he retired, and Limar trained his son Loar much the same way, though he allowed Loar to travel more. When Loar was present in the Halls, he carried out the administrator’s business just as his Limar. In fact, Loar was the one who put into question our son’s apprenticeship with the master swordsmith; his grandfather and the Council had decided to investigate whether the apprenticeship was given to the best possible candidate, he said. Yet, our Jûnis’s skill spoke for itself and he remained the apprentice. In fact, his talent in metalsmithing was what gained him the interest of the lady-in-waiting of Lady Dís, as she is a skilled craftswoman as well. When it became known that she and Jûnis began courting, Loar met with our son in private to tell him that the courtship was not appropriate due to their difference in station and that Jûnis had to end it before further action would be taken.”

"How despicable!” Bilbo cried. "Lady Yani told me she knew Loar but she did not mention this!”

"She might not have known. Our boy shared this strife with us but decided not to involve her in it; he refused to be made feel lesser. Besides, Jûnis and his chosen became engaged quickly, and then left with Lady Dís and others to Erebor. There was nothing Loar or his father and grandfather could do in the end.”

Bilbo shook his head in disbelief. "This is not a pretty story indeed! How come you knew all this and did not try to warn me of Loar’s character, if you thought he and I should court?”

"We did not know whether he held your regard and did not wish to change the way you viewed him, in case you did care for him," Seis said. "And since status is to his family and to him of great priority, we thought he would respect you at the very least, as you’re one of the King’s Company and the Hero of Erebor. Indeed, we suspected that your status might be the very reason why he was seeking you out so. We’ve thought that, given you are close to our King, he would not mistreat you, and if he did dare, we would intervene of course.”

Bilbo hardly knew what to believe now. Could it truly be that Loar’s had been showing him such attentions because of his status? He would have thought that the dwarf's interest was genuine. Yet, even if that was true, Bilbo no longer felt any regret that he could not reciprocate whatever sentiment Loar held for him. The way Loar had acted towards the dear son of his friends could never be forgiven in the hobbit’s eyes - even if Loar could plead his own case - and any positive feelings he had felt for the dwarf vanished.

Chapter Text

Not long after the enlightening conversation with his friends, Bilbo went to the dining hall for dinner. There, he first found Lady Yani and Amaranth, who sat at the high table with Lady Dís, and apologised once again for not having been of assistance with sketching in the afternoon. (King Thorin, he noted with both some relief and sadness, was not present.)

"But you must not apologise, Master Baggins!” Lady Yani said. "I do think all the sketches I need for the tapestry commission should be done tomorrow.”

Bilbo was most glad to hear this, as this meant that he and Amaranth would have just enough time to prepare the picnic for the dwarrow before their departure. The endeavour would require a lot of time and energy, and Bilbo thought that it would be more reasonable if he began the preparation early on the morrow while Amaranth helped Lady Yani. As he was discussing this idea with his cousin, Loar approached him with a smile as charming as ever.

"Master Baggins,” he said, "May I ask for the honour of your company this evening? I have not seen you since last night, and I find that I feel the lack of conversation with you most acutely.”

Bilbo, knowing now what he did about the dwarf, was not much affected by Loar’s winsome manner.

"Forgive me,” he said politely but with a reserve, "I have some matters I must attend to.”

"How about spending tomorrow together, then?”

‘I shall be quite occupied in the upcoming days. Please excuse me”

Bilbo could not overlook the true hurt that showed in Loar’s eyes, which confirmed the hobbit’s suspicions about the genuineness of Loar’s interest. Bilbo at once felt regret. He no longer viewed Loar in a positive light but causing heartache was never his aim.

In his youth, or even later, Bilbo had been no stranger to rejecting advances, though he had done it with little remose back then, as his suitors had been more attracted to his status as the head of the Baggins clan and his inheritance of Bag End than to his personal attributes, which was the reason why he had not accepted all the offers of courtship. Throughout his life, he had seen firsthand the proof in his parents' marriage of how much happiness true love for one another could bring, and he did not believe it was possible to build such a connection with someone whose motivation in pursuing him was only a desire for social advancement.

Now, the one before him did not seem to hold any other intent in seeking his company than a real want for it. Loar’s gaze brimmed with disappointment and sorrow, which filled Bilbo with sympathy.

"I am sorry,” he said and, not wishing to prolong the dwarf’s pain, proceeded to have dinner in the kitchens.

When Bilbo was done with his meal, he asked the kitchen staff whether they would have the amount of ingredients and produce that would be required for the refreshments he and Amaranth had planned to make for the picnic, and the elves were rather astonished.

"Why, Master Baggins!” one of them exclaimed. "Do you intend to invite a whole army to one of your hobbit meals?”

As Bilbo revealed his and Amarnath’s plans, they were received by the elves most graciously.

"That has to be a worthy way to see off our guests!” the head of the kitchens said. "I think our Lord Elrond shall be pleased. Let us take stock of our food storage, and then we shall see about preparing it all.”

The elf’s remark about Lord Elrond made Bilbo realise, with quite some embarrassment, that the Lord of the Last Homely House should have been asked first whether he would allow for such an event as the picnic. Thus, Bilbo sought Lord Elrond right after. Elrond, though occupied in his study, found the time to listen to Bilbo’s request and granted his leave for the picnic most happily.

And so, for the next two days, Bilbo spent little time anywhere else than the kitchens. During the first day of his work, he was helped by the kitchen staff, and Amarnath joined him in the preparations on the second. Considering the help Bilbo had from others, it could be argued that it was not strictly necessary to stay in the kitchens almost the whole time, but Bilbo would deny any accusations of hiding, thank you very much. He was simply busy and had many things to take care of. If he baked and set aside a batch of sugar cookies, which he knew from the time when the Company stayed at Lake Town to be King Thorin’s favourite, that was no one’s business but his own. If he prepared a basket, into which he put a blanket of his own, said cookies in a jar, and a bottle of wine, then again, it was a private matter.

On the evening of the second day of picnic preparations, when three days remained until the departure of King Thorin and his people, Amarnath addressed the dwarrow gathered in the dining hall for dinner. She cordially invited all dwarrow on behalf of herself and Bilbo to the picnic in Rivendell’s gardens at ten o’clock the following morning, as a parting gift from her and Bilbo before their journey ahead.  

"I believe I speak not only for myself,” King Thorin replied for all to hear, "that I am honoured by such a gesture. We thank you, and we will be there.”

The next day, as soon as the morning dew dried, Bilbo and Amaranth spread blankets (delivered by Elladan and Elrohir themselves) on the grass in the shade of trees in the gardens. The morning was sunny, with slight wind, and not a single cloud could be seen in the sky. The kitchen staff were kind enough to bring tables, onto which tableware, baked goods, fruit, and many pots filled with tea were placed (which the hobbits thought would be a more practical solution, given the number of attendees of the picnic, than placing the food on plates on the blankets). Everything was ready for the dwarrow to arrive at quarter to ten. The two hobbits had some time left to rest and admire the outcome of their labours as well as the efforts of the kitchen staff. It was undeniable that everything looked lovely.

Amaranth clasped her hands together. "Bilbo, I have a feeling this is going to be a wonderful picnic indeed! Oh, I am so excited!”

Bilbo grinned. Amaranth’s high spirits were contagious and helped alleviate Bilbo’s nervousness, for as grand as the picnic was in itself, he had even grander plans for it.

When the bell rang at ten o’clock, the dwarrow started arriving. It took only a few minutes for all thirty-one of them to come. As the full group stood before the hobbits, Amaranth spoke.

"Welcome, everyone, to a picnic! Picnics are a cherished hobbit custom, during which we gather, although in smaller numbers than the company now present, and enjoy conversation as well as refreshments. We believe that no food tastes better than the refreshments at a picnic, with which Bilbo and I hope you will soon agree. Now kindly sit on the blankets with whomever you wish. We will pour you tea, and then you will be free to help yourself to as much food as you like.”

The King sat down first, together with his sister and Lady Yani, and all the other dwarrow quickly followed suit. Bilbo wasted no time in pouring the first cup of tea and delivering it to the King. His hands trembled slightly as he set it on the blanket in front of the dwarf, but he thought he hid it well enough for no one to see it.

"Thorin,” he said, "Would you like to join me for a while later? I was thinking we could sit down together and... chat...”

Bilbo’s found himself unable to finish the sentence, rendered silent by King Thorin’s bright eyes boring into his own.

“Of course,” Thorin replied the moment Bilbo stopped speaking. “I’d like nothing more.”

Bilbo almost sighed out loud in relief there and then, but instead he rushed away to serve tea to others. (Loar, he noted with gratitude to Amaranth, had already been served his tea cup). Once all the dwarrow were served, Bilbo could not deny that seeing them drink tea from the delicate cups with their large, strong hands while sitting on blankets was even more amusing and endearing a sight than he had imagined.

When Bilbo and Amaranth were pouring themselves their own cups by one of the tables, he whispered to her, "Are you also trying not to laugh a little?”

In response, Amarnath burst into loud laughter. "They are trying to be so gentle with the china cups!” she said quietly between giggles. “It is so adorable!”

They laughed together for a while longer until Lady Yani called to Amaranth to join her. As she did so, Bilbo looked around to see whether any of the guests required anything and noticed Seis sitting on a blanket by himself. His wife had to have excused herself, for she was nowhere to be seen, and her cup was on the blanket beside Seis.

While Bilbo went to join his friend, he did not see the impatient gaze of King Thorin directed at him. He failed to observe also that the King soon rose from his seat by his sister and began slowly circling Bilbo and Seis at a distance, looking for a suitable moment to interrupt them. Eventually, he started approaching them directly, which allowed him to hear a part of the following discussion.

"You recognise who this is, don’t you?” Seis said as Bilbo sat down next to him.

The dwarf extended his hand to show Bilbo what he was holding - a large pendant within which there was embroidery woven from mouline that depicted a strikingly real portrait of a dwarrowdam Bilbo knew.

"Why, this is Lady Yani,” Bilbo said.

"Aye. She gave this as a gift to our boy for the times when they were apart. She returned it to us when the King came to the Blue Mountains last year, and that was the last time we spoke. Now, it looks as though she is faring quite well.”

Bilbo followed the line of Seis’s hard stare to find its object - Lady Yani, sitting on a blanket together with Amaranth and Lady Dís. Yani was attending to her lady and at the same time listening to what Amaranth was saying with a smile.

"Do not so harsh on her, my friend,” he said. "Perhaps, since she’s not revealing it, her grief is all the greater? A feeling not spoken of is perhaps far greater than one which is shown. It may be far too great to be conveyed - no word or action could express its power. ”

Seis shook his head. "Do forgive me, Bilbo, but I do not think you could understand. We love fiercely and wholly, and only ever love once. The very notion of losing my Umí kills me, yet it is becase I love her so that I pray to the Maker that he does not take me first - I would never wish such suffering upon her. And here, Yani is laughing.”

"Hobbits love in much the same way, Seis. We take only one spouse in our lives - there is only one we give our life to. There’s only one a hobbit would... do anything for. Anything at all.” Unable to stop himself, Bilbo searched for King Thorin with his gaze, only to find him walking away from the picnic briskly. Bilbo swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. What was the urgent duty that called him away, the hobbit wondered. Would he return to the picnic, or would they not have any more chances to have a conversation? He sighed shakily. "We do know the grief you have spoken of, too. When my father passed away, my mother's spirit never recovered, and she eventually joined him.”

"I am deeply sorry that you have been witness to such grief and faced such loss,” Seis murmured. "Would you still not agree with me, then, however? Would not agree that the passing of one’s beloved is not to be borne?”

"And yet, at times it must be borne. What could be done with such a burden but carry it? How else could one bear that if not by allowing themselves joy? Grief is not a state anyone can survive living in for very long; it is far too close to death for that. I do not think the decision to choose life should be begrudged - would one’s beloved not wish for them to still live for many happy days?”

Seis regarded Bilbo contemplatively. "You speak wisdom, dear Bilbo. I must say I am surprised. I thought I understood hobbits; after seeing your land and way of life, I believed you to be a folk free from care, unconcerned by the harsh parts of existence, but I realise my foolishness now. How could any mortal race not be affected by death?”

"I do not fault you for your assumptions - hobbits may seem to be simple. Yet, since we love tending to things that grow, we understand that death is a part of life. We are, indeed, quite used to death; we see our dear plants wilt before winter every year. Bearing loss is made easier for us only because we know the coming of spring is imminent. Life always prevails.”

"This is where our kinds differ. For us deep beneath stone, there is no spring. Loss of life is final and terrible, as our numbers are only fewer. Why, the first time I passed through the Shire, I thought I was dreaming: there were so many little ones around! My Umí and I were beyond blessed to have two children, and now...”

Tears shone in Seis’s eyes as well as in Bilbo’s, for the hobbit was too moved by his friend’s grief. He squeezed Sei’s shoulder tight and said, "Some loss is indeed terrible, and it seems impossible to recover from it. Loss of your child is not one I know, but merely imagining it breaks my heart into pieces. I am truly sorry, my friend. If there is anything I can do to ease your pain, say so.”

Seis laughed wetly and dabbed at the corners of his eyes with his sleeves.

"Oh, Bilbo, the heart of mithril you’ve got! Whole armies would follow you if you let them see it!”

Bilbo shook his head with a smile and withheld the response that he had no interest in leading armies. Seis’s mood seemed to lift from then on, and he chatted with Bilbo about the food and picnics. Once Umí returned, Bilbo felt he could be excused. He looked around to see whether he was needed anywhere and was pleased to note that the dwarrow seemed to be enjoying themselves, sitting or lying on the blankets comfortably, eating and chatting with each other.

Since his assistance was not required, Bilbo decided to take a moment to relax and enjoy the refreshments. When he was putting food on a plate for himself from the table with pastries, he heard a sudden loud croak above him and almost jumped up in the air.

"Baggins!" Rimac cried as he landed on the edge of the table. "Baggins!”

"Rimac,” Bilbo sighed. "My goodness, you scared me!”

Rimac did not comment, only took a few steps closer to Bilbo, although he had difficulty doing so, for there was a rather large roll of parchment tied to his leg that prevented him from walking freely.

"Shall I take that off for you?” Bilbo said.

Rimac croaked loudly and extended his leg with the parchment attached to it towards Bilbo. Bilbo untied it carefully and examined the roll to look for the name of the addressee yet found nothing.

"Who is this for, Rimac?”

"Baggins!” Rimac said and watched Bilbo expectantly with his clever, shining eyes.

Bilbo was rather puzzled to have received such an unexpected letter, especially since it could be from no one else than King Thorin himself. He unrolled the parchment and beheld a familiar sprawling, elegant handwriting, though it was in many places crooked and smudged, showing the haste in which the words had been written.

Rimac flew away. Bilbo began to read.

I can no longer hold my silence. I must speak to you by such means which do not deprive me of my courage. Bilbo Baggins, you pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that my hope is unbiased, that you hold no precious feeling for me. I offer myself to you again with a heart somehow even more yours than when you took it to the West with you almost eight years ago.

You are the one I will love for all my days. Resentful in loving you I may have been, but never doubt that my heart and mind, body and soul, are yours to command. You alone brought me to Rivendell. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my desires?

There was a time when I thought that you had understood. When I brought your cousins back to the Shire, you spoke to me in such a tone that I thought only I could distinguish as a confession. Yet, I was a coward and feared too much that you had anything else to say than what I longed to hear, which would have shattered me. I fled then with some meagre excuse, and I pray that you forgive me. In hindsight, I should have known never to doubt your intentions, for they are unfailingly pure and good.

Too kind, too wondrous creature! There is only one a hobbit would do anything for, you have said, and it made me consider how many great things you have done for me. I do realise I have little justification to hope that you might have spoken of me when you said that - I who have done you such unspeakable wrongs - besides that I am driven half to madness with want for your love, for your smile, your touch, your joy.

If my hope has indeed deluded me, if you must tell me that you hold nothing for me but indifference, then I beg you to do so. Meet me where we spoke of fireflies and end my anguish one way or another. Be assured that I am ready to accept either fate.

In case the sentiments I have written of bring you unease, I swear to you that I will never express them again in any way. If your friendship is all that you can give me, then I will cherish it and always support you for the rest of your life in all your choices, regardless of whether I am one of them.

Now I will wait until I behold your beloved face.

Such letter could not be recovered from! Bilbo was unable to tear his eyes away from the words on the parchment. The more he re-read them, the stronger grew his disbelief. Could his greatest dream and fantasy truly become reality, or was he imagining this? He pinched his forearm with his fingers to ensure that this was not an illusion, and almost burst into joyful laughter upon feeling a sting on his skin.

Immediately, Bilbo understood that he had to leave the picnic at once. As he moved to head out, he staggered in his steps due to his shock. Amaranth appeared next to him just in time to catch his arm and steady him.

"Are you all right?” she said.

"I am - ” he gasped out, but he could not find any more words to say.

"Goodness, Bilbo, you are pale! Should I call for Lord Elrond?”

"No! No, you must not bother him! Do not worry, I am quite - well - I am just... to meet Thorin.”

Amarnath regarded him closely with a worried frown. "Has something happened?”

"Nothing wrong at all!” Bilbo said, too loudly even to his own ears. "I simply... must meet him.”

"Very well,” Amaranth replied, still seeming concerned. "Shall I take you to him?”

Bilbo did not protest; in his current state, he could certainly use someone to hold onto. They walked arm in arm as Bilbo led the way towards the landing of stairs. He walked through the Last Homely House as though he was floating - he barely felt the soles of his feet touch the ground! He could only focus on the words of the letter, which he had put in the pocket of his waistcoat. ‘For you alone, I think and plan' - Thorin had written. Bilbo began to realise how clear this sentiment had been from the time when Thorin had arrived in Tuckborough. Bilbo almost wanted to laugh. How had he not seen it?

Oh, the foolishness of them both! Bilbo thought with a stinging pain in his chest of all the time he and Thorin had lost because they had not spoken of their feelings sooner, all those years when they could have been happy! Not a moment more could be wasted; Bilbo hastened his pace. He walked so swiftly that he all but dragged terribly confused Amaranth by the arm.

When Bilbo saw Thorin and their eyes met, the hobbit stopped short in his tracks. There was a terror to standing at the very precipice of achieving happiness; Bilbo found he could not move. Amaranth gently walked him the rest of the way until he and Thorin were now both standing on the landing of the stairs.

“King Thorin,” Amaranth said, "Bilbo says he is to meet you but he is feeling under the weather.”

"I shall see to that he is taken care of,” the King said. "My thanks for bringing him to me, Miss Brandybuck.”

From then on, they paid heed to nothing but each other. Amaranth observed them for a minute as they looked at one another, for she noted the tension between them as anyone would, but they failed to notice her at all. Only Bilbo’s keen hobbit ears registered the rustling of her skirts as she took her leave.

For the first time in months, they were alone.

Bilbo’s heart beat so hard and fast in his chest that it almost hurt. On shaking legs, he took a few steps towards Thorin until they were standing close. Thorin’s eyes were wide in apprehension, and Bilbo grasped his forearm to reassure him. Thorin opened his mouth but said nothing. There was fear, disbelief, as well as a question in his gaze, one which Bilbo understood clearly. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo placed his free hand on Thorin’s cheek and nodded.

Thorin gasped and was still frozen in doubt, but when Bilbo’s thumb began stroking the skin of his cheek, he finally believed Bilbo’s answer.

Faster than a strike of lightning, he swept Bilbo in a strong embrace and kissed him with such passion that Bilbo exclaimed in surprise but his shock lasted only a second. With a happy chuckle, he surrendered to the grip of Thorin’s arms around him, sank his hands into Thorin’s hair, and returned Thorin’s kiss with the same passion. They kissed long and deep, until all their pain, all their longing, all their regret were in their hearts no more.

When they broke apart, Bilbo laughed, and his smile was brighter than the Sun.