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Chapter Text

“-and thank you again, Master Baggins, yer kindness has been greatly helpful to Bree!” The tradesman exclaims with a genuine smile. The hobbits have been the ideal partner for the town, providing generous trade and never demanding much in return. 

With their ability to grow food and other various plants so efficiently, if they wanted to, the Hobbits could have Bree under their foot . The tradesman thought. It seems that only their mild natures are tampering their greed, if these folk were greedy, they’d have us under their large feet. He once again checks the document accounts, still in mild disbelief over the generosity in the stated numbers about their trade. 

In fact, the tradesman considered, it would be nice if the wee-folk worked with us to trade past the trees of Bree.

Yet all Hobbits have consistently said no. Any member of Bree would be quick to try to incite the smaller race to create more trade, both sides would benefit greatly.

The opportunities for successful trades are so numerous that it seems foolish to not consider them, but the members of Bree have given up on that. The truth of the matter is understandable- Hobbits don’t have much in terms of defending themselves. The town knows that the only way its current trade is continued is through the continued agreement to honour the secluded nature of the Hobbits. It is the only rule between the two races:

Do not, in any way, shape, or form, allow outsiders to interact with the Hobbits. Unless a Hobbit approaches them first.

Not even the oldest of those within Bree can explain when or why The Rule was enforced. In fact, it wasn’t really enforced at all. The Hobbits themselves never mention it, but the Rule is knowledge that has been passed down from the prior generation to every single child born into the town. Like an old tale, not the grandiose type, but the ones where the simplicity suggests a mystery that can never leave your mind.

The rustle of papers cuts across the tradesman’s thoughts. Also double checking his copy of the accounts, the Hobbit- Master Baggins smiled, “oh you don’t need to be so grateful, us Hobbits also highly appreciate you all for what Bree provides us”. He tucks away the papers, seemingly satisfied with it, “imagine how dreary us Hobbits would be if you lot weren’t here!”. 

Small, great at farming, mild-mannered, unassuming, with a distaste for travelling. Truly not the most interesting of people the tradesman thought. But to the people of Bree, they are great nonetheless. Not many trade options for the people in Bree, at least not anymore. But not only did the Hobbits trade a lot of food, but an excessive variety of food as well. The Bree tradesmen shook Master Baggins’s hand, both greatly satisfied and agree to meet in a few months time. 

Beyond the borders of Bree, near to nothing is known about Hobbits. Those outside of Bree, when Hobbits are mentioned, often ask:

“Are they real?” 

“They must be, the men of Bree speak well of them.” 

“Then, why has no one seen them.” 

“No one knows, the people of Bree just say that they do not like to leave their homes, even if it will bring them more business.”

“If they’re real, then they’re an odd bunch.”

“They really would be.”

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On his way back to Hobbiton, Bilbo makes a stop at the lush Hayward farms. As he comes near the Hayward Smial, the scent of the rose bushes strengthens to greet him. Excited to share the good news, he quickly steps up the path until he sees the aged Hobbit lady sitting, surrounded by numerous roses. As he slows his steps, the rose bushes grow to the point where she looks as if she is sitting in a bed of roses. 

Bilbo steps forward, giving her a hug in greeting, “again, Madam Hayward you have been amazing this season, please also tell your family that I really do appreciate their hard work. The men of Bree were truly grateful for our boost in exports.” The Hayward matriarch gave a huff as a response, her near-white hair following her movement, “really Master. Baggins, one would think that I am the cause for your entire business! Give yourself some credit, your ability to manage and coordinate everyone involved has been beyond exemplary”. 

With a hearty laugh and a bashful grin, they continue their gossip. An informal report of sorts from the Hayward matriarch, detailed stories of new fertilizers one of her nephews is currently trying, how her daughter has been trying to create a stronger version of her corn stalks, and how the new trade will help allow one of her grandchildren to finally finish building their smial. After some time has passed and her stories reach an end, Bilbo gives her a hug before heading off again, steps lightened by a job well done. 

Back in Hayward, the matriarch give off a long sigh, watching the boy walk off towards his home. Truly talented that Baggins, she thought, if only he had land and wasn’t landless, then he really would be extraordinary. Even a small piece would work, like that of the Bolger boy with only a plot of land in his family’s backyard, a land the size of a dinner table. Anything really would be preferable to his lack of earth.

As she watches him disappear beyond the hills, the blooms of her rose bushes droop in agreement with her thoughts. The poor boy, the late Baggins head and his Took wife were both legendary in their ability to cultivate their large lands. Odd as they were.

If only, the wind around her breathes, oh if only.

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Bilbo Baggins, fifty years old, a confirmed bachelor, and landless. 

But not without a lack of trying. Bilbo had walked every plot of earth in the Shire, he explored every corner of bree and even beyond the borders of both areas. He even walked so far as to Westmarsh. So in the end, with a broken heart, he claimed the unbonded land he grew up in as his. A tenuous claim, ready to be taken away at any moment to the fortunate Hobbit would be bonded with it. 

He eventually locked himself in Bag-End with a saddened heart and soul, he gave up looking for a piece of earth that would be his. Master Baggins stayed for years in Bag-End, only leaving to take care of the Baggins businesses as the head. He stopped going out to look for adventures as each step of rejection carved at his hope. So Bilbo Baggins settled, thinking that he would be one of the very few that would forever be landless. 

Yet, poor mister Baggins, never leaving for the world beyond the Shire and Bree just did not realize his land was miles away in the east. Currently occupied by a fairly large, crimson, gold-loving, fire-breathing dragon. 

Poor, poor mister Baggins was not prepared for the tall, grey, annoying wizard that came knocking on his door. He also was not prepared for the twelve boisterous dwarves that came in afterwards. He was definitely not prepared for the dwarven king that insulted him right after he entered Bag End, absolutely not prepared at all . 

Really, hindsight would hit poor Master Baggins hard. To think that the thirteen most infuriating folk he’s ever met would be the key to finding what makes him a Hobbit.

Chapter Text

Small Sorrel had been excited to see the very tall wizard, despite his grey hat and grey clothes making him look very dull. Sorrel has heard other children whisper about him with a tint of disappointment in their voices. They simply thought that a wizard should look more wizard-like, like the stories they made up. But Sorrel knew better- looks could not be used to predict power, hobbits themselves were a good example of that! Mum told him constantly to look as unassuming as possible as a hobbit, to look as weak and fade into the background.

“Also”, his mum reasoned, “they don’t pick fights if they can’t see you in the first place”. She would always tell him, that underestimation has always been a Hobbit's greatest strength. To be hidden, he has been told, is to be strong.

Sorrel’s patch of the land is in Bywater, on the way from Bree to Hobbiton. His land had been fairly large and was close enough to see the road. Having seen its beauties at all lights of day and night, Sorrel has not done much but encouraged the growth of the berries and various flowers on the soil. He could become like the other children of his age and grow a random plant or make small burrows to live or hide in. He had no desire to change it, it was beautiful all on its own. A picturesque mosaic of all that his land loves.

Every day he would walk down from his home in Hobbiton to care for it. Ensuring no plant has any disease, no invasive plant species have taken root and no pests are taking too much. Hobbits who have a bond with a part of the earth have to cultivate with it every day. As Sorrel’s mum also constantly said, “to do our best is to give our heart and soul to what is given to us”. 

So he sat back- away from the rest of his peers who tried to get as close as possible to the tall wizard. He stood in his part of the earth and felt excited yet wary as the wizard passed the road near him. The grass and bushes growing larger, moving in harmony with Sorrel’s caution. The faunt bends down to gently pluck a dandelion, breathing a message to its fluffy seed. He lets it go with the wind, trusting that it will find the land it needs to go. What a wizard is doing here he doesn’t know, but he will make sure his mother is aware of the wizard’s presence. 

The sunflower beside him bends to kiss his cheeks with affectionate amusement. 

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Gandalf feels a sense of calm and his heart becoming lighter the deeper he walked into the Shire. Hobbits, he thought, were always so predictable. He determinedly walks forward, speaking with all the children as they gather around him. Parts of plants reaching up, in obvious defence against the generally disliked but not unwelcome visitor. 

Gandalf has worked hard with his fireworks to prevent being an unwelcome visitor. He’d never be able to take steps into the Shire if he was.

Some patches of land didn’t have the plants growing aggressively in defence, showing the lack of concern of the Hobbit that bonded with it. In fact, a few Hobbits, dare he say were fond of him and some flowers bloomed to show their affection.

It was a reception that he always received no matter how long or when he would come. The distrust, the children, and the flowers growing becoming so familiar that it now feels like coming home from a long day. To some degree, the Shire did feel like home, a place so peaceful and set apart from the large-scale conflicts of the rest of Middle Earth. It was a place where he could temporarily sit back, relax, and help around for parties. In return for his entertainment, Hobbits- whether they liked him or not- would repay in heaps of feasts and smiles. Nothing grand was expected from him and any Hobbit version of grand was minor in comparison to the expectation of others. The Hobbits, in their focus on caring for their lands, did not have any desire for anything other than peace. 

Oh, they did have their squabbles, interesting and small yet lasting across multiple generations. The squabbles never become as serious as to evolve into damaging fights. To do so would hurt their lands, and to hurt their lands was as close to sacrilege on par with crimes related to the assassinations of rulers.

A newly grown lily brushes his hand as he walks past, knocking him out of his deep thinking. If he was correct, this would be from one of the Brandybuck members who followed Gandalf closely as a child. The affection so dearly given with the soft gesture squeezes Gandalf’s heart. It is moments like these, with the smallest and gentlest of all races, that pushes him to continue against the evil that he has to face.

He pats the lily as he resumes his walk, he really wished he could visit the Shire more. As boring as they may be, it is a precious peace.

Chapter Text

There are dwarves in the Shire.

There are dwarves in the Shire going towards the direction of Hobbiton. 

The murmurs between the Hobbits seemed to grow into a large ball of anxiousness as the dwarves come deeper into the Shire. The sounds are hushed as the leaves and branches pass the messages to neighbouring lands. 

The Dwarves? They’re freaked out. 

Dwalin always thought the Hobbits were weird. They did not often come near Ered Luin, only coming close when they were trading. But from what he knows, none of them has ever been inside or in front of the doors of the mountain. He remembered his brother mentioning once or twice that the Hobbits were rumoured to be good trading partners but beyond that, Dwalin didn’t know much other than the rumours. It turns out from what he was seeing that they were true. The Hobbits he saw were small, quiet, and visibly not trained in the art of war. In fact, he noted, these Hobbits seemed even smaller and paler than the Hobbits he would see in Bree. Not that he ever talked or interacted with those Hobbits either. 

Though, he noticed that his brother seemed to smile at a select few Hobbits. The Hobbits barely acknowledged him back, preferring to do a slide nod before disappearing into the green, god knows where they are heading. These Hobbits were likely traders that his brother mentioned before to Dwalin. 

“Dwalin try to scowl less, we still need their trade and we don’t need you scaring them away” Balin is looking at him straight now “if ye keep going, Dis is going to kill you for undoing her hard work”. Balin is giving him the look does not allow for disobeying. I’m not tryna look scary , Dwalin griped in his head, some of us just are not built with kinder-looking faces. But despite being the stronger brother, he’s been conditioned since he was young to obey that look and he knew it. Damn older brothers.

He was aware he wasn’t necessarily welcome here, none of the Hobbits would approach him or his brother and there was a creeping sense of unease that he ignored. The people around here were weak and didn’t know how to fight at all, a trait of the privileged lots. Yet, he continued on, trying to scowl less minding the continued warning glances Balin keeps giving him. Gandalf did say that this was the designated meeting place and that there would be good food. 

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“Fili I swear I’m not crazy, this place is giving me the creeps” Kili whispers, elbowing Fili multiple times. Kili can’t really put a finger on what is wrong with this place as they walked through it, only that he feels distinctly unwelcome. It wasn’t even the Hobbits, he noticed, it was like everything around him was subtly telling him that he shouldn’t be here. Fili grabs his arm, stopping the nudging, “yeah it’s giving me the creeps too Kee, but don’t be too loud, it feels like everything is listening to us”. Both brothers start walking faster and as unsettling as this place was, the people were still interesting. 

There were a group of Hobbits to the east of them talking in front of what Balin called “Smials”. “Fee Fee look! Uncle was right no one is wearing shoes”. Kili pointed to a group of Hobbits talking to each other and he was right, not a single shoe in sight. “You’re right Kee, not a single beard either!” Both brothers looked at each other, “yup, these guys are funny!”

After giggling and ignoring the unsettled feeling, the brothers continued their way merrily onwards to the Hobbit hole.

Well, they were until flowers gently crosses their path. Two pink roses in full bloom, seemingly too heavy to drift across the gentle winds. Kili bound forward to pick up the roses, turning back to his brother to show how pretty it is, “Fee look they’re so pretty!” Fili in the meantime looked around, seeing nothing, he accepts the flower from his brother and they tuck it into their tunics.

Now, they both continue on their way to their meeting point, whispers of light giggles following their steps..

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He swore he saw a Hobbit run away. Now Dori knew he didn’t look as kind as Balin, but he’s never had someone run away from him before. Nori was laughing loudly beside him, his sharp eyes certainly saw the Hobbit run away and he decided it was extremely funny. Ori on the other hand, looked a little bit off, holding himself tighter than normal.

“What's got you howlin’ so hard?” Bofur moved up to walk by them with a grin. He thought the wee things were funny but not enough to make Nori laugh that hard. 

Nori didn’t spare him a look, he kept looking at his brother, taunting him with a smirk. “Well Bofur, I spied with my little eye that a Hobbit immediately ran away after seeing my dear brother.” 

Bofur had to give an amused grin at that, “seems like the folk ‘ere don’t see dwarves like us often, maybe he ran after seeing our group.” 

The conversation immediately halted when Ori let out a small startled squeak. 

“Ori, are you okay?” “What happened” Dori and Nori jumped forward to ask, encircling their youngest brother in a tight circle. Ori immediately tried to explain, dismissing the incident as just a small startle because a plant moved near them. “It must’ve been a small animal” Nori reasoned, looking back at the plant itself that did not move anymore. 

Bofur looked around them and didn’t see any animals around. It must've run further into the bushes he guessed “Ori are ye sure? You don’t usually startle with small things like that” he said, also reaching forward to clasp a reassuring hand on the boy. 

Ori looked down, a little shy, “I’m not sure really, I- uh- it- well I just haven’t been feeling steady this entire time. I really don’t know why, I’m probably just nervous for the journey”. Ori was fiddling with his hands feeling a bit silly for being so wrong-footed by a place that was obviously peaceful. Though he also saw the Hobbit run away from his brother, none of the other Hobbits were hostile. The roads were clean and no weapons or even defences have been spotted. Yet, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling. 

With a low hum, Nori really looked at his brother, he could tell that Ori was genuinely spooked. Nori looked up, there was an insistent and niggling feeling in him but he had uncharacteristically dismissed it when he took in the unassuming nature of the Shire. Yet with the way his younger brother was acting, he started looking around them with a much more critical eye. There was nothing much to see, the sun was still bright, the road clear, and nothing but bushes and plants beyond that. Despite the normality of what he saw he became more than a bit unsettled as well.

Because, well, the path they were going down now seemed a bit threatening. While he couldn't say exactly what changed to make it look so, it looked like the wildlife around them were… alert. He didn’t have a better way to describe it but his skills from his past told him that he was being watched. Yet, no matter how he looked, not a single eye was looking at them, not even an animal in sight.

In fact, his very same skills told him that there was absolutely no one close enough to watch them. 

Making his decision, he gave his older brother a look. Dori looked unsure, he also tried to take stock of their surroundings but found nothing. As the eldest of the three he was used to being the one to rally his brothers when he felt cautious. It was only rarely that Nori would be the first to step up to do it. In every single circumstance that Nori did warn and try to protect them, he was always right. So despite what he saw Dori was confident in his brother, he wrapped his arm tighter around Ori and nodded towards Nori. 

Once his brother agreed Nori turned to Bofur and said, “tell everyone to start walking faster, we shouldn’t tarry here for long”. 

Bofur knew better than to doubt Nori, he may have not known him for long but he respected the dwarf’s instincts. “Bombur, Bifur, Oin, Gloin! Walk faster won't ye, we’ll lose daylight at this point!” 

The other dwarves grumbled but did start to walk faster, each knowing when not to complain. 

Bifur and Gloin in particular both looked at each other, the battle instincts of both dwarves understanding that something was amiss. Yet, if Bofur and Nori were not mentioning why, they knew it meant that something may be around them. Both dwarves grabbed their respected family and the whole group started to quickly make their way to the so-called Bag End.

Maybe some food , they thought, would get rid of this weird feeling.

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As Ori feels his brothers’ arms push him along, two questions come unbidden to his mind. 

Why does this place feel wrong? What exactly are these Hobbits?

Chapter Text

Bilbo sees the nervousness of the Hobbiton’s residents. He watches from his perch infront of Bag End as thornier plants become larger and bushes grow large enough to hide smials out of sight. His worry only starts to grow as some trees sprout with enough density to partially cover some of the brick buildings. If it was only the wizard there would not be this much caution and some areas of Hobbiton would instead bloom with flowers of welcome. 

There was only one conclusion he could come to, there are unwelcome outsiders within the borders of Hobbiton.

Bilbo wrings his hands, fiddling with his pipe as his feet are pressed to the ground, the grass tickling his ankles. A plant nearby both coils into itself and tries to widen its’ leaves in the indecision of what to do against a potential threat. Though he is not bonded to his fathers’ land, it cares for him as his parents once did. Bungo Baggins’ parting wish was for the earth of Bag End to support his son and Bilbo honoured it by taking care of the land as if he was bonded with it. 

As he worries, Hamfast quickly makes his way up to Bag End. “Master Baggins!” the gardener exclaims, panting from his hurry. 

“Master Hamfast!” Bilbo rushes towards him, laying his hands on the gardener’s shoulders. 

“Master Baggins, there are dwarves in the Shire! The lands have said that it looks like they’re heading to Hobbiton, but they’ll likely won't arrive till around dusk.”

“What on earth could they possibly need in Hobbiton? They usually only stop by Bree don’t they?”

“No one knows, but soon after one of the Grubb wives’ son warned her ‘bout the wizard, we started seeing dwarves coming closer than they did before.”

“Bebother with these folk, did anyone initiate the contact with these dwarves?”

“Not that you already don’t know Master Baggins, few of your tradesmen have spoken with at least one of them. Though from what we know in Hobbiton, only ever for trade, and it was done outside the Shire. The lands say nothing else.”

Bilbo moves Hamfast towards the bench to take a seat together. Preparing his pipeweed, Bilbo heaves a deep sigh. If the Dwarves were not invited, then they definitely are here because of that blasted wizard . After all, there is no reason Dwarves should be in the Shire, inside Hobbiton nonetheless. Hobbits were nothing but a footnote in Middle Earth, none of the other races would have ever had a purpose for the Hobbits. It was the Hobbits that took their time to reach out to other races, and only ever for trade.

The flowers beside the benches rise to lay a gentle touch on their knees. Providing comfort to their growing distress. 

After breathing from his pipe, he hands it over to Hamfast who gratefully takes a large inhale from it. “Also Master Hamfast, please don’t call me Master Baggins, just Baggins please.”

“Sorry to say that I’ll be denying you yet again Master Baggins.”

Bilbo watches Hobbiton grows visibly more anxious as the news rapidly spreads. Though the town does so silently with the exception of him and Hamfast. First a wizard visits? Then there are outsiders in the Shire?

He should’ve told the wizard to bugger off earlier that morning. 

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“You know Bilbo, every Hobbit has a bond. It’s just a matter of finding it”, the tall wizard says, puffing a smoke ring while looking at the whole of Hobbiton. “While there are some who never find it, a Hobbit should never stop looking.” After his usual annoying greeting, the wizard went right back to asking Bilbo to leave.

This is not the first time Gandalf has tried to persuade Bilbo. Though he didn’t come to Hobbiton often he would always mention it without fail, to encourage Bilbo to go out once more. Bilbo knew that the wizard was not wrong, his late mother herself did not find her land until the wizard took her to Imlandris. A secret only Bilbo knew now. 

Other Hobbits thought that his mother simply found her bond far out beyond Shire. Curious as they were, few Hobbits were able to ask her directly, and when they did she would only smile. “Oh! it’s nothing much, just farther away than most!” Any questions would soon stop after that, after all, they knew that once Belladonna was stubbornly set on something, no tree or root would move her. Her marriage was the biggest proof of that.

It was only between her, Bungo, and Gandalf that knew her bond lay beyond the Weather Hills and on the edge of the Misty Mountains. When his parents died and returned to the earth, Gandalf took him to the side and explained where his mothers’ land was. It was only then did it make sense. Belladonna was always known to be adventurous and keen on leaving the Shire, her marriage to Bungo not only raised gossip but also worry for Bungo who built their home on his land. 

Bungo, his kind father, a seemingly classic Baggins who did not venture far from their lands and was generally less keen than other Hobbits to go beyond the Shire. Their partiality to business being the only factor encouraging the family to at least go to Bree and slightly North to meet with the Dwarves. 

It became the news of the entirety of the Shire when not only did they marry, but Bungo left with Belladonna for weeks at a time. Many plants were reaching and flying across the Shire, the entire area would’ve looked like it was amidst a storm made up of plants rather than rain. News and updates of their marriage kept the Shire active for months. 

Continuously the couple would leave several times a year, up until Belladonna gave birth to young Bilbo. From then on Belladonna only left twice prior to her death. She would only leave if the wizard took her, leaving Bungo to take care of Bilbo in Bag End.  

Bilbo puffs a ring of smoke, for once not immediately rejecting the wizard. He’s not a faunt anymore, desperately keeping hope in his heart and determined to find his land. Now he’s older, he worked hard to care for his father’s land and happily fulfilled his responsibilities as the Baggins head. Despite the initial protest to him taking on the mantle of leadership due to his status as Landless, Bilbo worked even harder to gain everyone’s respect. It was with his efforts that more Hobbit families gained greater prosperity. If it wasn’t for him seeking out to deepen relations from the Shire to the Blue Mountains and Bree, Hobbits wouldn’t have had access to better tools and resources. 

The Hobbit watches as the smoke ring eventually disappears and heard the wizard sigh. “Bilbo, I have allowed you to stay here for much too long. I had a promise with your mother to take you to Imlandris when you are an adult. Initially, I thought of not warning you, but listen to me now. Prepare yourself to leave for tomorrow.” 

“Now you dodgy old wizard, I have decided to live my life here, even though Mother said that. I just can’t leave all my responsibilities behi- Gandalf!” Then the wizard just up and left! The audacity of him!  

At least the tears at the bottom of Gandalf’s clothes gave a bit of consolation to Bilbo. He wanted to throttle that bothersome old man. Giving his bushes a rewarding pat, Bilbo hopes that more thorns will ruin the wizard’s robes as he walks away to wherever wizards like to go after meddling with the lives of Hobbits. 

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Heaving his- what feels like -the millionth sigh of the day, Bilbo stands and mentally prepares himself for what is now inevitable. 

“Master Hamfast, if you can do this Baggins a favour. Please let me borrow one of your youngings to transport a message to the Great Smials. They’ll receive appropriate pay of course.” 

“An official letter Master Baggins? What are you going to do?” 

Bilbo understood Hamfast’s concern. In the Shire, letters were only sent in important matters where the documentation is necessary. Any other message did not need a letter to be sent between the Hobbits.

“Well Master Hamfast, it seems that whether I like it or not, the meddling wizard will make sure I follow my mother’s footsteps.”

With some more assurance to Hamfast that he’ll probably be safe with the wizard, the pair separates. Hamfast assuring him that he will send one of his boys just after Luncheon. 

Bilbo makes his way back inside Bag End and with some hesitation, he walks towards the farthest of rooms. A room whose door he hasn’t opened since his mother’s death. It was a room he couldn’t bear to even try to open. It was a place full of love, the painful kind. Just seeing the door would make Bilbo’s heart feel like it’s starting to fall apart. The room was a study that contained almost all of his mother’s memories. His dear mother, despite being so bold and outgoing, was a deeply private person. She held her secrets close to her heart and in the deepest room of the smial built by the man that gave his heart to her, she stored everything important.  

Bilbo's hand shook as he grabbed the knob, the grief suddenly gripping him. To open this door was to face what he couldn’t. For Bilbo, his father’s death left him lost and unsure of how to live his life. Yet it was his mother’s death, so soon after his father, that broke Bilbo as a person.  Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to disturb whatever memories he had left of her. She was his sunshine and water while his father was his foundation of roots and soil. 

Minutes pass as he stands there holding the knob, his mind in a storm and his heart thundering within his chest. Slowly, with strength he doesn’t feel, he pushes the door open. The hinges creaks cuts through the silence of the smial, the sound loud due to neglect. After a beat or two Bilbo’s eyes adjust to the darkness and he saw that his mother’s study was full of items left untouched. 

Inside the room and across the door there were large bookshelves, beside them an equally large desk. There were no windows within the room, the only light shining being the one from the hallway behind him. It was likely an intentional choice of his mother, probably to preserve whatever mathoms and books she left here. Belladonna was messy in nature and it was often left to Bungo to clean after whatever she decided to do. If his mother wanted to host a party and cook all of the food, Bungo took it upon himself to only be a few steps behind her so that he could clean up her trail of messes. But this room- it was immaculate, not only was it clearly cleaned up of clutter often, but every item seems to have a designated spot. 

After a second glance it became clear that every part of the room was carefully arranged so that the items within had minimal risk for deterioration. If it wasn’t for the collection of dust, the room would’ve felt like a mathom-house.

Opposite the bookshelves and beside the door, chests and displays showed various artifacts, clearly elven in nature. All of it is also carefully organized and arranged, with not a single item out of place. Bilbo takes a deep breath and gives himself a moment to commit to heart all that he is learning about his mother from this room. After, he turns around and grabs the candle from the hallway lamp to light the central lamp in the room.

As he turns around to return a candle he sees a set of elvish armour that was made with Hobbits in mind. It was on a stand of some sort, and it was beautiful with its’ green fabric and golden metal. As Bilbo stepped closer to it his heart lurched, there were many detailed flowers and leaves subtly embroidered on the fabric. He reaches out to touch the armour, his hands shaking and he rests his fingers where the belladonna fruit was engraved into the center of the chest piece. The shine of the armour from the candle makes his surroundings look like it's glowing gold. Time feels suspended in this room, the glow of the gold making him feel like he’s not in Bag End anymore. 

This armour in front of him, it was clear that the set was made with deep affection. Evident in each smooth stitch and engraved metal, affection was leading the hands of those that participated in this armour’s design and creation. 

Besides his mother’s armour was a tall elven dresser, which Bilbo opened to reveal what must have been his father’s set. Though it was tucked in its’ storage, Bilbo could immediately tell that this armour was also made with the same amount of care. Alongside the belladonna designs were grapes and grape leaves on his father’s armour. Likely representative of the Old Winyards wine that his father loved. 

When he touched his father’s cold armour, Bilbo’s  vision had become increasingly blurry. The tears pushing to come out and his breaths becoming laboured. This- he realizes -this was the proof of his parents' adventures, that there are people out there who loved and cared for them . A place beyond the Shire where memories of his parents still live on with not just gossip and judgement. 

After seeing the sets, Bilbo allows himself to accept the choice that was already made for him. I will go out to Imlandris, he decides, to honour the life of my parents and the people they loved. The decision settles his mind and heart, the anxiousness and guilt that was stopping him before disappearing. It gets replaced with the familiar sense of love and responsibility. He owes it to his parents to do this, to tell the people that loved them that his parents loved them too. His mother’s room and her care in storing these items were clear evidence of that. 

The responsibilities he has and the people that rely on him may have to be left behind, but at most it would be only a few months. After he was done with Imlandris Bilbo would return to Hobbiton and continue on with his life. It was what his father once did, and now Bilbo will follow in his steps and would do the same.

Bilbo continues looking around, wiping the few tears that did come out and reaching out to touch or brush the dust off the items. After putting away the candle in his hand, he picks up his mother’s old packing bag and starts collecting items he thinks he may need for the journey. As he goes through the items he arrives at the final one. The most impressive out of the lot, a set of elaborately designed throwing knives of elvish make stored on a golden custom-made display. He decides to pack those too.

A journey he supposes- only mother knew what to prepare for those.

Chapter Text

So the Dwarves were in his home, putting dirt on his mother’s precious items and throwing his father’s carefully designed plates as if they were worthless rocks.

Bilbo was not happy, he really was very much not happy. His was heart still raw from opening his mother’s study and now he has to deal with watching his parents’ items get carelessly handled. 

That wizard didn’t tell him that the dwarves were coming to his Smial! Sure, he suspected that these dwarves were likely related to Gandalf but he didn’t know that the irritating wizard would send them here. 

Also, he knew dwarves could be boisterous but Bilbo didn’t know they were downright disrespectful! During meetings with Dis, she was never like this. She was rough by Hobbit standards and was much more blunt with both her strength and her words. But she was always respectful! She would have never thrown around his things or have been so blatantly rude. Though, Bilbo suspects that she might have found it amusing before scolding them all.

“-that’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!” 

These bothersome dwarves also ate out his pantry! And that blasted wizard was of no help and he knew how much important his pantry stores are! Thankfully the dwarves didn’t find the door to the lower pantries, now that would’ve been another disaster entirely that he didn’t have time to take care of. Helpless against their enthusiasm but not wanting to watch what was happening, Bilbo turns around- only to be met with the smallest dwarf of the lot.

“Um- Master Baggins, where would you like to us put these dishes?” Ori- at least he thinks it’s Ori -asked. 

“Bless you Ori for asking, please place them near the sink- oh but please throw away the food waste first. The garbage is under the sink.” 

At least that was a count of one whole dwarf that gave him home some respect. 

Honestly! These dwarves burst into his home, ate his food without asking, insult him, and then proceeded to send him near to an early heart failure. As a Hobbit Bilbo understood hunger but really to be rude and insulting on top of that was not necessary. Bilbo has half a mind to just grab Thorin’s ear to yell at him. Exactly like how Dis told him to if he was ever to encounter her brother. King or not, no one should be allowed to get away with being that rude- to strangers nonetheless.

Which, speaking of Dis, she never mentioned how sheerly intense her brother was. Sure he was just as surly, rude, blunt, and impolite as she said. Yet, she never described how strong the King’s gaze was, how he could demand your whole attention without saying a word. Finally, Dis never mentioned how- well- handsome he was! 

Bilbo sighs once again, yes these dwarves are just not good for him at all. Now that he knows how these dwarves are related considering that Thorin and Dis bear close resemblance, he’s a lot less intimated by them but no less overwhelmed. If Thorin was here then the pair of gold and black-haired young dwarves must have been her sons, Fili and Kili. Dis would’ve surely had their hide if she was aware of how they were acting. 

Speaking of- he sees said the two younglings creeping along his hallways and peering into every door. Looking for what, Bilbo can’t guess. Eventually, he sees them start to approach his mother’s study. Considering the noise their feet were making, they were truly not capable of properly sneaking. He sighs, again, it felt like these dwarves as a whole were just ticking a list of all the ways to bother him in his home. 

Walking towards them until he was behind the two. “Fili, Kili, where do you think either of you are going?”

The two freeze in sync almost comically, neither of them apparently heard Blibo coming up behind them. Slowly both they turned around and by the look on their faces, they were sheepish but certainly not guilty.

“Well you see Master Boggins-”

“It’s Baggins Fili”

“-Baggins, we thought ye had an absolutely lovely hole in the grou-”

“Smial” Bilbo can feel his growing headache grow even stronger.

“-Smial, and we were just so curious about the wonders of such a wonderful Hobbit home-”

“Wow what wonderful vocabulary you have Fee”

“Shh! Kee.” Fili elbows his brother quickly, “and so we just thought- considering that you were busy -that we shouldn’t bother you with our questions and just take the initiative to look around!”

“Yes, exactly as he said Master Baggins, you live in such a comfortable home. We are just so curious and didn’t want to bother ya!”

Bilbo can’t help but feel the rush of fondness through his irritation, the boys are exactly how Dis described them. Mischievous, prone to trouble, attached to the hip, and without a mean bone in their body. Dis was also clear on how to deal with them. So Bilbo reached out with his hands,

and pinched both of the boys’ ears. 

Ignoring their loud protests, he drags both boys back to the living room where the rest of the dwarves had settled in front of the lit fire. 

Clearly surprised, the dwarves and Gandalf’s heads snap up when they hear the boys’ protest as Bilbo brings them into the living room. Once he brought them to the center of the room, he lets go of their ears and gives both boys a look when they started to look indignant. Thorin abruptly looks angry and starts to stand, but Bilbo now knows how to deal with this situation. Really, Dis’ detailed stories and descriptions about her family’s behaviour were astonishing in their accuracy.

The other dwarves just look stunned.

“Now I know your mother taught you both differently so don’t try to pull anything with me boys. Go sit nicely with your uncles and stop snooping before I write a very detailed letter to her.” 

At the mention of Dis, Fili, Kili, and Thorin freeze before settling down. Bilbo could see Balin and Dwalin’s shoulders shake in laughter behind them. Bilbo was pleased that he was right when he surmised that Dis was the true powerhouse in their family. From the way she acted, there was simply no way that she was anything less than a force to be reckoned with. 

“You know our ma Master Boggins!?” Now the boys look somewhat repentant, though they mostly looked afraid.

“Ah- Master Baggins we were not aware you know are friends with Dis” Balin said after his laughter abated. All of the dwarves now looked curious, watching the conversation closely after realizing that this Hobbit knew their only Ereborian princess. Even Gandalf looked curious. From the look on the wizard’s face, he also didn’t know Bilbo had prior contact with the dwarves.

Truly this blasted wizard had too much audacity to force Bilbo into doing things despite knowing nothing about him.

“Yes, though I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close Master Balin, Dis and I meet twice a year to discuss and maintain the trade agreements between the Blue Mountains and The Shire.” What Bilbo doesn’t say is that the meetings at most only took two days but he made the point to meet with Dis for at least a week. No one in the Shire was anywhere near as interesting to talk to compared to her. 

“If my memory doesn’t fail me grocer, my sister talked to the Took clan’s Thain. I don’t see how you would have had any contact with her, Baggins was how you named yourself.” Thorin says, his deep voice tinged with thinly-veiled curiosity and suspicion. Balin and Gloin both nod their head at Thorin’s statement, as they had been a part of the mountain’s foreign trade ministry.

“I am not just a Baggins nor a grocer your Highness, I am also a Took. The only son of Belladonna Baggins née Took, the eldest of Grenotious’ three daughters. Uncle Isengrim would have been the one deciding on the trade agreements with your sister. But the responsibility was given to me since he had no interest in making the travel at the age he is now. It was also convenient for me to do so since I am the head of the Baggins Clan.” 

Balin leans back in his chair and starts stroking his beard in consideration. “Excuse me laddy, but how are we to make sure you are telling the truth?”

“People think Dis’ favourite colour is gold like the hair of her late husband, but in actuality, her favourite colour is pale blue. Like the colour of the skies under which not only did she meet her husband, but also reflected in his eyes.”

Any suspicion left completely leaves Dis’ relatives. Fili and Kili both suddenly had a look of awe on their faces. Bilbo wasn’t sure how much they knew about their parents. After all, he only got that information from Dis when she was so drunk she could barely stand. The other dwarves looked surprised at the new information about their princess. Bilbo found it quite funny how the suspicion was instead replaced with a growing horror as the dwarves realized the possible consequences of their impolite behaviour. He was already aware of the influence Dis had on the dwarven colony but it was another thing altogether to witness it.

Thorin and Balin in particular were looking pale. 

-------------------------

Thorin knew that the trade agreements between the Shire and Ered Luin were mainly based on foods, herbs, and tools. With the Shire providing for a majority of Blue Mountain’s food supply, many of the dwarrows still did not show enough acknowledgement of the Hobbits. But Dis always ensured that no dwarf in her vicinity would be ignorant to how much they owed the Took family for approaching the dwarrows with a trade agreement that changed their lives.

But no dwarf, especially those from Erebor, can bear to look at the haughtiness and comfort that these halflings lived in. Thorin was self-aware enough to understand it as intense envy. How nice it must be to have the privilege to look comfortable while not having to worry about war or disaster. To live life with so few worries and be left alone by the dangers of Middle-Earth. Even during the most peaceful times of Erebor, their kingdom had always been in constant preparation for battles. Orcs, wargs, and other evil things often sought to chip away at their mountain.

Their dear nun’el¹ had stepped up to commandeer the negotiations between the two races after Grenotious started to lose patience with her male relatives. 

Thorin doesn’t know if it was because she was too young to remember Erebor at its peak, but Dis never held an ill thought towards the Hobbits. Even though she experienced the worst of their time as travelling refugees, she seemed to take comfort in the naivety of the Hobbits. In fact, she held a level of respect for them that no other dwarrow in existence has or could even try to understand.  

“Without the Took clan, brother, none of us would be alive! All the food your nephews eat are grown on their farms. If it weren’t for them we would’ve lost the rest of our family and people too!” was what she yelled at him after one night where he wouldn’t stop calling them halflings. 

Ered Luin had some sources of food but not enough existed and neither were there enough dwarrows willing to dedicate their craft to farming. Prior to the arrival of his family and their people. Ered Luin was producing just enough to support themselves. It would have been near possible to support his people too. It was another harrowing time to top the rest of the harrowing times he had been through leading up to that point. The relief his family felt when their asylums were accepted was short-lived. If anything it was worse, to find a home only to be faced with the reality that it may just become a new bed to slowly die in. The survival and eventual growth of the dwarrows of Ered Luin wouldn’t have been possible without the Took Clan. 

While many other Hobbits turned away from the dwarrows, it was the Tooks who were willing to create trade agreements and act as an intermediary. Despite the fact the trades are done across multiple families, it was only ever the Tooks that the dwarrows spoke to. They were the closest thing to a governing body that the Shire seemed to have.

“We owe it all to them Thorin! No people, no matter how abundant their farms are, would trade this much food without a deep and strong relationship. There has to be a level of trust there and for better or worse you dunderheads were too strong-headed and jaded to develop one with them.”

She also made it abundantly clear that it was the Tooks that took the time to introduce dwarven wares and their utility to their fellow hobbits. “Without that,” Dis said, “they would’ve never thought that us dwarrows would have had anything that could be of value to them.”

And so, Thorin knew better than anyone in this room, that this Hobbit had the power to completely halt all of their trade. If he did, it would doom almost all of Ered Luin that have grown used to relying on it. He doesn’t think that Dis would allow for that to happen but she would sooner beat him than get angry at the Hobbits she was fond of.

“Please accept our grave apologies Master Baggins for my words, for the words of my brethren, and for how we have treated you.” Thorin said, swallowing his pride, he also aggressively gestured for his nephews to apologize. 

Fili and Kili understood and knew not to question it. Lest they face the wrath of both their ma and uncle. 

“We really do apologize Master Baggins. We’re sorry for dirtying your mother’s glorybox, for demanding food, and for snooping around” They said in unison. 

He watched as Balin himself also proceeded to apologize on behalf of the rest of the company. 

Thorin felt sweat gather on the tight grip of his fists. They’ve barely just started their journey and he may have already doomed his people. His nephews barely have anything to inherit already. 

This unassuming Hobbit could ruin it al-

-------------------------

“Oh, apologies accepted. None of you really have done anything wrong, I’d bet that you all expected a warm welcome here. If anything it's that infuriating Wizard’s fault for not giving me an appropriate warning.” 

Bilbo waits for a beat, watching the dwarves relax with relief. He has an idea of what they were worrying about, but really, Bilbo wouldn’t jeopardize their relations over a handful of dwarves. Even if three of them are part of the ruling party. He knows what its like to go hungry and would rather return himself to Yavanna’s earth rather than impose that on others.

“Though I would really appreciate it if you don’t throw around my dishware, my father commissioned those for my mother when he first built this smial. Oh- and please ask before you start snooping around, I don’t really mind but it would just be polite to do so! And despite the disrespectful way you all did it, you have my thanks for cleaning up the plates.” After giving them a sharp smile, Bilbo goes back into the hallway to fix up some of the rooms for his guests tonight. 

It was relieving after all, especially if he was to journey with them, to know that they are capable of apologizing. 

Well Dis as accurate as you were in predicting your boys, you were wrong on one part. 

Thorin did know the words “I’m sorry”.

-------------------------

Watching the Hobbit walk away, Gandalf gives in to his laughter. Really, Bilbo Baggins had grown well and seemed set to be a surprise at every turn. Dwalin also snorts and slaps his hand onto his knee, “that wee thing has more of a spine than the lot of ye!” It makes most of the dwarves chuckle. Despite the fussiness and the panic that the hobbit was showing earlier, apparently, he was hiding a spine of steel. 

“He’d havta be a strong one if he earned Dis’ respect,” Gloin said after explaining what just happened to his brother. Oin nods in response “odd things these hobbits, but they provide great herbs fer yer medicines”. 

Bombur nods along, “ye know, before we traded with ‘em we weren’t able to cook more than half the dishes we do”. The youngest dwarrows look at him with surprise “In fact, a lot of our dishes in Ered Luin mixes the halfling’s cooking n’ ours.” The cook ignored the hushed “we were eating halfling food?” from Dwalin. 

“Their meatloaf is a blessin’” Bifur comments. It was well known that the introduction of meatloaf was important to Ered Luin. The food was delicious and portable so it became the go-to lunch meal for every miner. What wasn’t well known was the fact that the idea came from Hobbits. The other dwarves look at Bifur, not quite believing what they’re hearing. 

“Well importantly, how did you lads get caught by him? I’d reckon that bumbling idiot with the hammer would have taught you to be better fighters than that” Nori says from the corner of the room, his eyes narrowed.

“Oi! watch what yer saying ye-” 

Fili and Kili look at each other before looking back at Nori. “We don’t know! Last time we saw him he was worryin' by the tables then next thing you know, when we tried to walk into the last room he just grabbed our ears” 

“And you didn’t hear him walk at all?”

“Nope not at all, we swear.” 

Nori only nods in response, his eyes shifting up towards the hallway the hobbit disappeared to. 

The conversation lulls, the implications of all that they’re learning about their host running through everyone’s mind.

After letting the dwarves ponder for a time. Gandalf stands and digs into his pocket, bringing out a key and a map. 

He places both items on the table, “well, as pleased as I am to see you all come to realizations about Hobbits. It’s time to discuss our quest.”

-------------------------

After ensuring that there were copies of important documents and records, Bibo sets to organizing his study once more.

From the sound coming from the hallway, all of his guests are sleeping. Only moonlight peaks through the window and his candle is on its last bit of wick. Getting all of this done is important to ensure no annoying cousin will ruin his efforts in the trade agreements or try to take anything from Bag End.  

Putting the last document away, Bilbo stands, his back protesting strongly. He really has been sitting for far too long. He goes to double-check the items in his pack and deigns that after doing so it would be time to finally sleep. While walking out of the study, the desire to check his mother’s room one more time hits him. He takes a moment to consider it but in the end, he decides to do abide by his wants and grabs a candle to light his way.

Reaching the end of the hallway and opening the door slowly, to prevent making noise, Bilbo steps back into the room. After all, he reasons, it doesn’t hurt to check again just in case something was missed. Briefly looking at the mathoms, books, papers, and all the other knick-knacks his mother collected. Bilbo once again finds himself facing the closet that stores his father’s armour. He starts considering it but he feels ridiculous even just thinking about it. Yet the logic still bugs at him, that no matter how numerous his company would be, it would be safer if Bilbo wore something protective. While he expects that the journey shouldn’t be much too different from his other trips, it wouldn’t hurt to err on the side of safety.

He opens the closet for the second time that day. This time Bilbo grabs the armour off its stand. The metal is surprisingly light and the fabric incredibly soft. Definitely made with Hobbits in mind. The thought brings a smile to his face, his father was soft and also definitely was a creature of comfort. Anything less than the softest fabric would irritate his late father’s skin and would be deemed unwearable. It was strange, to think that Hobbits who rarely drew interest from other races would receive this much attention from elves.

Fumbling a bit, unfamiliar with the metal bits and clasps, Bilbo shrugs on the armour. It fit surprisingly well, a little short since he’s taller than his father, but comfortable nonetheless. Bilbo turns towards a mirror, it’s difficult to see with only the light of his candle but the sight still chokes him.

He knew that he took after his father rather than his mother in looks. But seeing himself in the mirror with this armour, Bilbo is taken aback and a thought hits him, this is what he would have looked like when he was still happily travelling with my mother despite the complaints of the Baggins family. 

Quickly taking off the armour, Bilbo takes it with him to his room to place beside his pack. He had experienced too much emotion for just one day. He would deal with the rest of it tomorrow.