Chapter Text
Almost a thousand years had Thranduil lived. So many wars had he seen and fought. King of the Woodland realms. It has been years since the destruction of the One ring and it was almost time for a new age. There was nothing left in this Middle Earth that he wanted to do and it was high time his son, Legolas took his place on the throne as the next king and Thranduil would finally depart for the Undying lands.
Or so he thought. Thranduil knew Middle Earth at the back of his mind. All the different races and species that thrived and lived amongst one another. One particular race had his heart and he set out to meet with an old friend down at the Shire. His other son, Thaliondir, Legolas's brother would be left in charge in his absence.
"Where would your first stop be, my King?" Thaliondir had enquired right before he left. His younger son had always been like that, dutiful and respectful unlike his other brother who Thranduil hated to admit that he had spoiled his first son a little too much for him to hold any respect for him as King but Thranduil loved both of his sons nonetheless.
"I'm meeting with Gandalf down at the Shire first" Thranduil had answered with a smile, his son helping him to put on the last piece of his armor and making sure that his father had everything he needed packed on his beloved elk for his new upcoming journey.
"Be safe, Ada" Thaliondir wished bowing his head with an arm across his chest to which Thranduil pulled him into a warm embrace, placing a kiss on his temple. After Legolas had set out on his journey, Thranduil had sworn to protect the younger and love him as an extension of himself and if Legolas ever chose not to take his place, the younger would then take his place.
With that, he rode off into the horizon.
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On the outskirts of the Shire did he find a wounded little hobbit. It seemed that evil still lurked, of course, when there is light there would surely be darkness and the evil that lurked haunted these very parts, Thranduil could feel it in his bones. A natural instinct from having lived for eons.
He got down from his elk, scooping the little one in his arms. The little one was barely breathing and he looked too malnourished compared to the ones he had seen back in his days when he first visited the Shire, his memory serves him. No, this child was abused and must have attempted to run away, judging from the small bag he was hugging close to his chest. He was bleeding from his head, his clothes too baggy and torn. He was covered in dirt and Thranduil had a hard time finding if any other wounds covered him or if he had any other broken bones.
The danger that lurked seemed to have left with the rising sun. He carried the little one to a nearby lake that Thranduil had frequent last time he had been here for it served some healing properties. He removed the little one's clothes and soaked him in the water, placing a hand on his chest and chanted his magic. Thranduil could hear his little heart beat louder in his ears as he continued to work his magic. He carefully washed off the dried blood that stained his upper torso and arms and carefully closed up the wound that gashed from his head.
Once Thranduil deemed him healed, he removed him from the waters and dried him off as best he could. The King then wrapped him up in of his robes like a makeshift cloth to cover him up. Then he himself changed out of his armor into something more comfortable to hold the little one close to him. Not wanting to waste any time, he wrapped an arm around the little one him as he rode off for the Shire.
There, Gandalf met him at the entrance.
"Mithrandir" Thranduil greeted, bowing his head slightly in respect to the older wizard.
"Thranduil, King of the Woodland" Gandalf greeted back in kind, bowing his head. His eyes quickly drifted from the King to the bundle he was holding in his arms.
"I found him, on the outskirts" Thranduil explained as the boy lay asleep in his arms, a hand tugging at his clothes.
Gandalf nodded and explained that the little one was the reason he wanted to meet with the King. Bilbo, was the name of the boy bundled up in his arms, the son of Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins. When his mother had passed, the father had been abusive towards Bilbo, intentionally starving him and physically abusing him.
Thranduil vaguely remembered the Took when he had visited and to hear of her passing made his heart sank but such was the life of the mortals. To hear that his father had abused this little one though, enraged him to no end. For some reason, he felt a pull towards Bilbo, parental instinct taking over to be protective once more. He would never do that to any of his sons even after the passing of his beloved, he had spoiled his sons rotten. It was no excuse. A parent should always look after their child.
As if sensing this, Gandalf handed him another small bag that contained some of, Thranduil assumed to be clothes that could fit Bilbo along with some hobbit books.
"Why don't you take him on your journey?" Gandalf said, smiling as he took a drag of his pipe. Wise old wizard always had something up his sleeve. But Thranduil understood that he himself could not look after the little one if he wanted, and it wasn't like Thranduil didn't know the little one's mother.
Thranduil had initially wanted to spend some time in the Shire before heading off to the next destination but since his old friend had passed and her son was almost dying in his arms, he had to ride out to his next destination fast. He bid farewell to the old wizard who headed to the opposite direction as his elk headed in another, towards Rivendell.
According to Gandalf, the boy was still a toddler by Hobbit's age. He was two years of age by Hobbit's years, he could walk and run though unsteadily and that made Thranduil's cold heart shattered to pieces. He was so young yet he was trying to run away from home? No child should ever have to go through something like this. The boy trembled in his arms, the cold wind stinging his skin by how fast Thranduil's elk was riding. He pulled his own coat to cover the shivering boy and held him closer.
He didn't pull any stops, occasionally feeding the sleeping boy some water on top his elk when he needed and making sure the wound on his head didn't open up. When Bilbo would tug ever so slightly on his robe, Thranduil could feel his heart swell with unconditional love for the boy.
As night settled and his elk demanded rest, Thranduil was forced to seek shelter further out on the outskirts of Rivendell. He was sure his old friend, Elrond, wouldn't mind. Still, the cold night air stunk of Orcs and any other creature of the night. He was against setting up a fire but as the little one shivered from the cold again, he was forced to. He gathered some branches and lit a small fire, making sure the little one was wrapped up comfortably before he placed him next to it.
Elves could go for days without any food or water but the halfling being a growing one, needed constant feeding and all the extra food his son had packed for him had gone straight to Bilbo's stomach but he was almost out of water. He had changed Bilbo out of his robe and into something of Bilbo's that still seemed abit too baggy for the boy.
When he was changing him, the boy awoke, rubbing his eyes and yawning, stretching the sleep out of his small body. The boy had looked up at him, puzzled and confused. Then he looked around him, scratching his head and Thranduil wondered if he could speak yet. His elk was asleep behind them and Thranduil had leaned against it for support after a long day of riding.
"Bilbo?" Thranduil called, and the boy turned at the sound of his name. Well at least he understood his name, Thranduil thought to himself and watched as the boy crawled over to the fire and almost touched it, to which Thranduil had swooped him back up into his arms in one swift motion. The boy giggled in his arms and crawled over to his shoulder, playing with Thranduil's long golden hair. After a moment he lost his balance, and fell back into Thranduil's arms.
"Why, aren't you a naughty one?" Thranduil smiled down on him and the boy giggled away, tugging at his hair that had fallen from his shoulder. The King didn't flinch, not wanting to scare poor Bilbo. When he was changing him, Thranduil noticed the scars that ran down the boy's back and legs. He hadn't felt this much rage ever since a dragon had burned half his face off.
Thranduil took out more of the bread that his son had packed for him and held it out for Bilbo who took it in his small hands. He took a bite out of one and offered Thranduil some, and it took all of his being to not cry tears of joy right at this very moment. Sweet little boy, who didn't reject him at all. He wouldn't admit it but he had been afraid that if the boy had woken up, that the little one would be terrified of him and would run off elsewhere.
"It's for you, little one" Thranduil said softly, scooping him up in his arms once more, making sure his coat covered his small frame as the little boy finished his bread and started yawning away. He still had a lock of Thranduil's hair in his small hands as he fell asleep tucked onto the King's chest.
When morning came, Thranduil had made a makeshift baby carrier fashioned out of one of his coats so that the little one was much secured against his chest when his elk would ride with lightning speed for Rivendell.
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Maybe it was a bit too late for Thranduil to realize this but he had zero idea on how to care for a hobbit. A toddler one, at that. Caring for an elfling was different than caring for a hobbit, surely. But the boy had taken quite a liking to him which Thranduil was pleased.
Did he still need to be fed milk? How much food is safe enough for him to consume? How much sleep does he need in a day? Why is he napping so much? What food is safe enough for him to consume? All these questions made his head spin as they had finally reached their destination, Rivendell.
His old friend, Elrond had greeted him warmly, welcoming his presence with open arms offering refuge for both his elk and his little one. They hadn't met since Thranduil, King of the Mirkwoods had decided to isolate away from the world when the darkness fell. Elrond had kindly enquired on the young one and that's when the King had been stressing out with all those questions in his head that earned a hearty laugh from his old friend.
When offered a bottle of milk, Bilbo had taken it with no complains and when Thranduil had tended to the wounds on his head, the boy didn't protest, sitting diligently in his new father's lap. The boy didn't speak, Thranduil had feared he would be mute but thought that maybe he had been too young to have learnt anything to speak. Still, for a boy to have ran out that far into the outskirts of the Shire right into the face of danger, clutching only a small bag made it seem like the boy was much more intelligent than Thranduil had given him credit for.
The King wondered if maybe he had been purposefully abandoned there by his father or by someone else he had been following but ruled that out. Bilbo grew attached to the King of Mirkwood fairly quickly, clinging onto him like a tree and refused to leave his side. Not that Thranduil was ever going to leave him out of his sight, ever. The boy didn't cry, only choosing to whimper which was always a sure sign that he was either hungry or thirsty. He wouldn't protest when Thranduil would scoop him up in his arms and even when the King didn't, Bilbo would make quick work of climbing up his long legs up onto his torso and then moving up onto his shoulders.
Caring for him was fairly easy but the boy didn't like to socialize. He had taken a liking to Arwen, Elrond's daughter that had came around to visit and so did Arwen to Bilbo. The boy attracted much more attention than the King did which irritated Thranduil a little since the boy was clearly shy, refusing to reach out to anyone but his father. Even in Arwen's arms, he would whimper and pout until Thranduil would come and scoop him up in his arms.
The King wasn't complaining, he loved his new son dearly.
The wound on his head was almost healed and Thranduil decided to show his son a thing or two while in Rivendell that was situated right next to the endless sea of Middle Earth.
"Look at the fishes in the water, Bilbo" Thranduil had shown the excited boy that was a little too close to the waters. Sparkles in his eyes and a smile too big for his small face, Thranduil's heart could not suffer any more swelling than it already did at the sight of the small boy. Distracted, Bilbo had fallen in the water but the King jumped in the water with him, holding onto him with one arm as he swam out more into the sea.
Bilbo had climbed onto his shoulders and sat there whilst his father swam. Occasionally he would dive under, telling his son to hold in his breath when he did so, and Bilbo would hold on to his too big head. When they would resurface, the boy coughed out of the water from his mouth to which Thranduil giggled at the sight of the young boy. He showed the boy the sun as it set over the horizon, and when the moon rose, he explained how the sun gave light to the moon and its significance to the Elves.
The boy watched in wonder as Thranduil told him a story about the moon, the stars and the sun, the little one's hands closing in a fist and opening again as if wanting to reach for the stars above the night that had settled. The sea remained warm, the magic of Rivendell. Bilbo kept pointing to a burning star that shown too brightly amongst the billions that surrounded it.
"You like that one?" Thranduil said fondly, picking up his son and setting him back onto dry lands. The boy grinned back at him, climbing up his back to get a better view from up his shoulders.
Thranduil thought of a befitting elvish name for his new son, since he loved the stars so much.
"Elendir.." Thranduil called, and as if the little one knew that would be his new name, he giggled, fisting his small hands into the King's wet golden hair.
"Elendir Thranduillion, that would be your new elvish name" Thranduil proudly claimed, taking the boy from off his shoulders looking at him for approval. The boy clapped his small hands together and when Thranduil brought him up closer to his face, the boy cupped it.
"Dada.."
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"You're still up?" Elrond's voice came from behind Thranduil as he stood over one of their balconies looking up at the moon. "Come, join me for a drink, dear brother"
Thranduil scoffed, he hadn't heard Elrond call him brother in years. Once, they had been, brothers in arms facing a common enemy that had led to the death of his father. It still warmed him that Elrond still considered him a brother after all these decades of isolation.
"What's got you up?" Elrond enquired, pouring him a glass of wine.
"Well, we could go without sleep" Thranduil answered as a matter-of-factly, missing these little moments of brotherly bond between them as he sipped on his wine. His little one was sound asleep after their mini swimming session so he had the night to himself for once, because it had been a fight to get his new son to sleep on time and throughout the night.
Elrond let out a small laugh, "Unlike you to be seen without the little one"
Thranduil had been staying in the company of his brother for almost a week now and everywhere he went, even in the nights, Bilbo could be seen with him, either on his shoulders or tucked asleep on his chest so the King understood his brother's sly comment on that.
"I had thought I would embark on this journey alone" Thranduil shyly admitted, smiling fondly at the thought of Bilbo. For once, he felt empty where the little one should be. He didn't care what his brother would have thought about him, Elrond never judged him, even when Thranduil had hidden his entire kingdom away from the affairs of Middle Earth.
"I would have thought you came here for the Grey Havens" Elrond added, sipping on his own wine.
Thranduil looked at Elrond, loneliness and sadness evident behind his cold blue eyes, "He needs me" and a hint of happiness and hope flashed in his eyes when he said it. Elrond noticed it. He also noticed the way his eyes softened at the sight of the little one that had apparently woken up from his slumber, how he had managed to find where Thranduil would be was a complete mystery.
"Hey, Elendir" Thranduil soothed, scooping the boy up in his arms when the boy whimpered and sobbed, tears evident in his little eyes. The boy had fisted his little hands into his father's robe and buried his face into his father's shoulder when he carried him. The little one continued to sob as Thranduil tried to shush and sooth him, stroking a hand up and down his back.
"Hey it's okay, dada's here" Thranduil cooed, bouncing the boy slightly to calm him down, trying to get him to fall asleep once more. Elrond watched his 'cold' brother give all the love the King could offer to the little boy in his arms, in amusement. It reminded him of a sight not too long ago when his younger son, Thaliondir had been born and Elrond had been invited for the celebration of his second son.
"It seemed like he knew exactly where you were" Elrond commented, and Thranduil didn't want to think about how many rooms he had gone into before he had found his father but to be fair, Thranduil wasn't so far away from their own room anyways. True, the bond between them had strengthened over the past few days and Thranduil with what little hope he held in his heart, prayed silently that it will only continue to grow as their journey continued.
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Upon bidding farewell to Elrond and Rivendell, Thranduil set out on his next destination with the little one asleep in his chest. The boy reminded him of a young elfling that required a lot of sleep and physical contact with their parents, his pointy ears did not help this argument. The King breathed in the fresh morning air and took note of the dangers that lie beyond Rivendell.
A new darkness was coming and Thranduil silently hoped that he would be gone before then.
A whimper from his little bundle of joy snapped him out of his thoughts. He let go of his reigns on his elk and snatched a bottle of milk from his bag that sat at the back of his elk.
Bilbo giggled at the sight of his bottle when his father handed it to him and Thranduil tapped his elk's neck telling him to slow down whilst his son finished up his milk. Thanks to Elrond, the King had enough supply of milk to last him until his next elven destination.
For now, he was headed towards the kingdom of men and horse riders, Rohan.