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Chapter Text

'How did it come to this?' Bilbo asked himself as he raised Sting once more, panting from exertion and fever as he fended off the orc's blow... arms trembling from the effort.

Had he managed to make it all this way only to be cut down just as the lonely mountain finally came into view? Glancing toward the tree where he knew his small charges to be hiding the lone hobbit summoned what was left of his strength and raced forward... a battle cry wrenched itself from his sore throat as his letter opener collided with his opponent’s weapons. If this was how he was going to die then so be it, but he would take as many of the enemy with him as possible! He would protect these children with every ounce of strength that remained in his body, even if it was the last thing he did!

"I'm sorry, Thorin. It looks like I won't be able to apologize after all." With that final thought Bilbo redoubled his efforts, unaware that help was on it's way.

Six months earlier...

“Uncle Bilbo!” Frodo called out as he raced up the path towards Bag End, curls in disarray and mud covering his small frame.

“Dear me... what happened to you lad?” The older hobbit replied as he scooped the child into his arms, it was nearly time for supper.

“Sam and I were playing in his folks' garden and we thought we'd be nice and water the plants for them.” He replied, happily clinging to his caretaker. “But we kinda ended up having a mudball fight instead.”

Bilbo glanced up the road toward the Gamgee's smial, chuckling quietly as he caught sight of Sam being hosed down by his father in their backyard.

“Well we'd better get you cleaned up. I made your favorite supper, chicken with marinated mushrooms.” Frodo let out a cheer as he was carried toward their bathroom and carefully set on the floor.

The fauntling stood there patiently while Bilbo set about filling the tub. This was a nice change of pace. The small boy usually hated bath time and would fight tooth and nail in order to get away. With how his parents died, he couldn't really blame the lad. Even so, Frodo knew that the better he cooperated the sooner he would get to eat. This is why it took less than half an hour to finish and soon the two hobbits were able to sit down to their nice meal as the sun sank behind the hills. After dinner, the older hobbit watched fondly as his nephew played with his toys, memories circling in his head as he read the latest letter from the Lonely Mountain.

Dear Bilbo,

We hope you are doing well. The last we heard from you was that little Frodo had been ill so we have all been very worried for the tyke. Has he gotten over it yet, if not Oin has sent a package of medicine along with this letter which you are to mix into water and have him drink three times a day. He says that should help bring his fever down. It is made of herbs that are only available around Erebor so your healers will most likely not have heard of this remedy. We hope he gets better soon if he hasn't already.

The hobbit glanced at the pack of herbs, realizing the company medic had sent him a large enough supply that it would last quite a while. Frodo had already recovered but he was certain that it would come in handy at a later date. As he set it off to the side a warm smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he turned back to the letter.

As for us, things have been progressing very quickly. The damage that the dragon caused has nearly been repaired and the economy is booming. Dale is also well on it's way to being the city it once was. From previous letters I am sure you have heard that the members of the company have each been appointed high standing positions in the kingdom as well as making up the new council of Erebor. I had, however, asked the others not to mention what I am about to say. I wanted to wait for the perfect opportunity to bring this to your attention.

Bilbo frowned, up until this point the letter had seemed friendly and heartwarming but here it seemed to turn more formal. The fifty-two year old could tell that what was to come would be important and he found himself paying extra close attention.

Now, when I said that everyone in the company had been offered positions in the court I meant everyone... that includes you laddie. Thorin had wanted to ask you to stay in Erebor and become the kingdom's ambassador. That would mean that it would be mostly you who dealt with the elves and men on important matters as well as helping establish treaties if the need arose. However you had already left before his highness got the chance to ask you. Thorin had been adamant that we get in contact with you immediately so that you would be told but I convinced him to wait for the time being. However, I feel that now is as good a time as any to bring this to your attention. From what you have revealed in your letters the Shire has been less than welcoming since your return. In fact, the only reason we can perceive that you stay is because of Frodo and the other youngsters that you've told us you've taken a liking to. I'm not saying you should up and abandon the home you have to travel halfway across middle-earth, for the second time, and settle down in a mountain you barely have set foot in. No, I just wanted to let you know that the offer stands. Now or later it won't make a difference, you'll be welcome here whenever you decide that you're up for another adventure. I suppose that I've gone on for long enough now. We hope to hear from you soon, Laddie. Take care.

Your friend,

Balin, son of Fundin

Bilbo didn't know what to say to that. Sure he had been a bit lonely since his departure. If not for Frodo he may have decided to visit Elrond in Rivendell or maybe Beorn. He may even have decided to return to the Lonely Mountain. But he had a hobbit faunt to care for and the wilds were no place for that. He knew how dangerous the wilderness could be first hand and so he had stayed put in the Shire, where he knew it would be safe to raise his darling nephew. The poor boy had already suffered too much in his young life. Even so, this letter made him think back on all that had happened in the last two years.

He had stayed in Erebor only long enough to know that the king and his heirs would survive before heading back to the land he'd once called home. It was with a heavy heart that he left his adopted family behind but. Even though he'd been forgiven by the company, there were many a dwarrow who refused to trust him and the last thing the hobbit wanted was to make problems for his friends. He was also unsure of how Thorin would react. Sure the king had forgiven him when he'd believed he lay on his deathbed but now that he was on the mend Bilbo didn't wish to push his luck. He had no way of knowing if the gold sickness would return or not. So, instead of facing the dwarf he'd once loved, he'd left the lonely mountain and headed home... planning on living a peaceful life though maybe with some smaller adventuring thrown in to stir things up every once in awhile.

Soon after returning to Bag End one of his relatives had shown up on his doorstep with a young, orphaned Frodo in tow. The poor boy had recently lost his parents and had since been passed from one family to another with no one really bothering to take the child's feelings into consideration. They only cared about the extra mouth they had to feed and, as soon as the opportunity had presented itself, had passed him off like a secondhand pair of clothes. Bilbo felt for the poor fauntling, the lad was barely ten summers old, and had taken him in without a second thought. It warmed his heart to see the shy little imp that the boy had first been turn into the adventurous scoundrel he now knew. Nowadays it seemed as if Bag End was always filled with the sound of little feet running around. Besides Frodo there were three other youngsters that frequented his home. Two were distant cousins of the lad and by extension himself... Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took (ages nine and eight respectively). As for the other, he was the son of Bilbo's long time friend and gardener and also Frodo's best friend... Samwise Gamgee (age ten).

Time seemed to fly and, though he missed the company dearly, at least he was not alone. The last couple of years had been filled with much happiness and yet the dwarves of Erebor were never far from his mind. He received letters from many of them of course, including a very short missive from the king saying that he was welcome to return if he ever so felt like it. It was blunt, impersonal, and Bilbo couldn't help feeling that even after all this time Thorin may hold a bit of resentment towards him for what he'd done. That couldn't be helped though. That dwarf was one of the most stubborn creatures he'd ever known. So instead, he had written a quick 'thank you' letter and settled in to watch the boys play. Now, though, as he read more of what had transpired in his absence... he couldn't deny that his heart yearned to return to the mountain. He wanted to see his friends, he wanted to see Thorin, even if only to apologize once more and maybe mend the rift that had formed between them due to his actions.

“Uncle Bilbo, what's wrong?” Frodo asked as he clambered up into the older hobbit's lap, placing a warm hand against his face.

It was then Bilbo realized that a few tears had managed to escape his eyes and were currently trailing down his face. He swiftly wiped them away before turning a sad smile on the small boy.

“Nothing's wrong sweetling.” He reassured, patting the faunt on the head. “I just miss my old friends. I haven't seen them in nearly two years after all.”

“You're talking about the dwarves you went on that adventure with aren't you uncle?” The lad questioned, excitement shining in his blue eyes.

“That I am. I was reading the latest letter they sent and it made me a little emotional.” The elder Baggins revealed with a sigh. “I'm sorry I worried you, Frodo my boy.”

“That's okay.” The child replied with a yawn as he slowly rubbed at his eyes with a small fist.

After carefully setting the letter aside Bilbo rose to his feet, his nephew still securely held in his grasp.

“I think it's somebody's bedtime.” He declared, slowly walking toward the boy's bedroom.

It took only a few minutes before the youngster was all dressed in his nightclothes with the older being tucking him into bed. Bilbo leaned down, gently placing a kiss to his forehead before turning to leave. Just as he reached the door a small voice called him back.

“Uncle? Can we visit Erebor?” The little boy asked hopefully.

A wistful look crossed the elder hobbits face as he answered. “Maybe someday, Frodo... when you're older.”

That night as he lay in bed, Bilbo thought of what it would be like if he were to return to the Lonely Mountain together with his precious nephew. He was certain that the dwarrows would all fawn over his boy. He knew how his friends race cherished children above even the most precious of jewels and was positive they would spoil Frodo rotten. The former burglar fell asleep with a smile on his face, his dreams filled with the happy faces of his nephew and friends.

A few days later he was awoken in the middle of the night by harsh cries that sent shivers down his spine. It had been nearly two years since he'd last heard that sound and he was loath to think of the foul beasts that produced it. The sound came again and Bilbo knew there was no mistake... wargs were in the shire... and that could only mean that orcs were as well. The small being launched himself out of bed and rushed toward his nephew's room, protective instincts on high alert as he scanned for any immediate danger. Finding none, he let out a sigh of relief. The howls sounded as if they were still a fair distance away, towards Bindbole Wood if he had to make a guess, and he prayed that they would have enough time to escape before the creatures reached Hobbiton.

Entering the room, Bilbo moved quickly to the younger hobbit's side, shaking him awake before racing around the room to gather some of the child's clothes and toys into a small traveling bag.

“Uncle?” Frodo spoke up, sluggishly rubbing sleep from his tired, blue eyes. “What are you doing?”

The elder being returned to the boys bedside, a sturdy pair of clothes and warm cloak held in his arms which he swiftly helped the child into.

“We're going on an adventure, my lad.” He explained, not wanting to scare his nephew.

“Are we going to Erebor?” The black haired child asked enthusiastically, bouncing up and down as the elder hobbit helped him with his pack.

“Yes, that is exactly where we're going.” Bilbo confirmed, knowing it was the only place he would truly feel safe bringing his nephew.

“But you said...” Frodo started, only to be cut off by his uncle.

“I know what I said, but things change.” He replied, a little harsher than he'd meant, and was thankful that the boy didn't pay it any mind. “Now, I need you to stay by my side and be very quiet... can you do that?”

The fauntling nodded, excitement shining on his now wide awake face as the two hobbits walked swiftly back to the master bedroom. Here Bilbo hurriedly packed his own bag and dressed in his most durable set of clothing. The mithril shirt was securely tucked under his tunic while Sting was secured to his waist. He also had several knives with him which Fili had gifted to him before he'd left Erebor. The young dwarf had done a good job teaching Bilbo how to utilize them and, over time, the hobbit had become very skilled in the art of knife throwing.

Their next stop was the kitchen were the hobbits set about procuring as much food as they could carry and that wouldn't spoil, before heading into the den to grab the last few items that Bilbo wished to take with them.

“Okay, I believe that's the last of it.” The gentlehobbit said as he carefully stuffed his unfinished book, Oin's medicine, and the letters his friends had written him into the bag before taking Frodo's hand in his own as another howl rang out... this one much closer than the last. “It's time to go!”

The elder Baggins led the smaller being through the green door and was met by a frenzied crowd of hobbits milling about in the cool, night air... seemingly awakened by the same howls that had woken Bilbo. Nearly immediately his gathered neighbors stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Upon noticing the traveling clothes, as well as the small packs that each of them carried on their backs, they all rushed forward shouting questions. There was such a racket that poor, little Frodo covered his ears to shut out the noise.

“Please quiet down everyone.” Bilbo yelled, trying to gain their attention but barely any listened to his pleas.

He sighed deeply before gathering his breath and yelling louder.

“If everyone could just SHUT UP!...” He paused, waiting for the din to cease.

The formerly respectable hobbit couldn't help the low chuckle that managed to escape his lips as everyone stared at him completely dumbstruck.

“Thank you.” He stated, choosing to ignore the few who were whispering about how rude he was. This, after all, was no time to hold onto hobbit etiquette. “Now I know you have questions but there isn't much time so I'll get straight to the point. Judging by the howls, I'd say there is a swarm of orcs and wargs less than an hour away from here.”

At this, panicked whispers started up and he was forced to wait a few moments as they subsided.

“They seem to be heading this way from the direction of Bindbole Wood and I can assure you that they will not show mercy once they are here. I have faced these creatures before and they are the most evil and vile beings I have had the displeasure of meeting. I greatly urge each of you to return to your houses and pack the bare essentials before fleeing this place for somewhere safer.” Bilbo declared, taking hold of the faunt's hand once more. “Now, if you'll excuse us, Frodo and myself have places to be. Come on, lad.”

He pushed his way through the crowd, being careful not to lose his nephew in the thick of it, but was stopped at the edge of the group by a familiar face. Hamfast gave a sad smile as they solemnly moved down the hill towards the Gamgee smial. The trio stopped just outside the gates where they would be able to hear each other over the commotion. Barely a moment later Bell rushed out the door and placed herself at her husband's side, worry clearly visible on her face.

“Mr. Baggins do you really think those monsters will be showin' up here...” The gardener trailed off, wrapping his arms around the hobbit woman protectively.

“Yes, Hamfast, I do.” Bilbo revealed, a pained look filling his eyes. “And it'll be a slaughter. Please, my friends, you must gather you're family and leave this place. I would hate to hear that you've all been killed.”

The other hobbits were quiet for a short while before their eyes filled with determination and Bell shook her head resolutely.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Baggins, but we can't just abandon our home.” She said, voice filled with conviction. “We'll stay here and do our best to hold out until help arrives. I know we won't be able to fight but many of the older smials have secret cellars. We can stay in there until things blow over.”

Hamfast nodded in agreement. “We should have enough food for a month, more if we ration it.”

“Very well, if you're sure...” Bilbo said reluctantly, carrying on at the confirmation. “I guess we should be heading out. The sooner we leave, the more distance we put between ourselves and the orcs.”

Just then young Samwise rushed out the door from where he'd been hiding, having woken up a few minutes earlier. He startled the adults as he raced forward and latched onto Frodo... hugging the other child tightly as tears trailed down his cheeks.

“Are you really leaving, Frodo?” The ten year old asked, sniffling miserably. “I don't want you to go! You're my best friend in the whole world!”

By now Frodo was also fighting back tears as he gripped the other boy just as desperately.

“You're my best friend too, Sam.” He replied, finally losing the battle and letting out a heart-wrenching sob.

Bilbo and the Gamgees looked at each other sadly before coming to a silent agreement. Liquid filled Bell's eyes as Hamfast approached the fauntlings and knelt beside them.

“Son?” He spoke up, effectively drawing the children's attention. “How would you like to go an adventure with Mr. Baggins and Frodo?”

The blonde child's eyes widened as he looked between his parents. It was several seconds before he was able to speak.

“But... but what about you? What about the others?” He questioned, referring to his brothers and sisters.

“We'll be just fine... don't you worry none.” His mother comforted, wrapping her arms around her son in a tender embrace. “You just go and have fun. Maybe you'll even see those elves you've been going on about.”

“It's okay?” The youngster asked, uncertainty shining in his watery, blue eyes.

“Yes, it's okay.” His parents responded, smiling warmly at their youngest son. “Just promise us that you'll be good and listen to Mr. Baggins.”

“I promise.” Sam agreed, hugging his folks tightly.

A short while later Hamfast went inside to fix a pack for his son. When he returned the gardener carefully placed the straps over the boys shoulders before ruffling his hair lovingly.

Bilbo watched silently as the his friends bade their son goodbye. He was worried about the other Gamgees staying behind but was glad that Frodo would have a companion for the journey. Moments later it was time to leave. The howling was growing ever closer and he wanted to make it to Brandy Hall before midday tomorrow. They would stop there for a few hours. Just long enough for the boys to rest and grab a bite to eat while he sent a message to the Thain. Then they would be setting off for Bree where they'd hopefully be able to purchase a cart and pony as well as more supplies.

“Come now boys, time to go.” He called as Sam stepped away from his parents.

“Are you certain you won't join us?” Bilbo asked the other adults, hoping to convince them otherwise.

“We'll be stayin' here.” Hamfast replied, taking hold of Bell's hand. “This is our home. It may not be much but it's all we have and we couldn't bear leaving it.”

Bilbo nodded, refusing to let the tears fall as he thought of what could befall his only close hobbit friends.

“Very well.” He yielded, beginning to herd Frodo and Samwise away. “I'll be certain to send help as soon as possible. I pray for your survival, my friends.”

“And we yours.” Bell replied, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her dressing gown. “Please... take care of my little boy.”

“You have my word.” Bilbo vowed, knowing that he would lay down his life for either of the children in his care. “We are going to head for Erebor. I have friends there that will take us in. If... if you...”

He trailed off, unable to express his fears as his gardener placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

“We'll be sure to write you when it's safe.” The other male said before continuing in a softer voice. “If not... I want you to raise Samwise as if he were your own.”

Not able to muster the words, Bilbo gave a sharp nod, grasping hands with his friend in silent agreement. Glancing over his shoulder, the hobbit let out a sad sigh as he cast one last look at Bag End. This was likely the last time he would ever lay eyes on his childhood home and it pained him that he couldn't take more of his parents belongings with him. In the end though it didn't really matter. He had Frodo, and now Sam, to look after and he would do his best to protect them. They were more important than any material possessions ever could be. A few moments later Bilbo turned and walked down the moonlit path, Frodo and Sam holding tightly to his hands as a few tears trailed down their small faces. He knew that they were afraid, he could see it in their eyes even if it was slightly hidden by their excitement. The Shire was the only place they had known and now they'd been forced to flee, leaving it all behind in order to set out on a dangerous journey. Bilbo could only hope that when they finally reached the Lonely Mountain that they would find a place where they'd be safe... a place they could once again call home.

Chapter Text

They reached Brandy Hall a little before noon the next day and Bilbo quickly procured a room for them so the young ones could rest. Frodo and Sam were falling asleep on their feet, yet the older hobbit knew he was right to have pushed them. Less than an hour after they'd left Hobbiton a horrible screech filled the air and he knew that the enemy had arrived. The boys had begun trembling terribly and he drew them to his chest where they hid their small faces in his shirt. The former burglar prayed that the other hobbits had heeded his warning but feared otherwise. He knew how set in their ways most of the population were. Still, he pressed on, shielding his young charges as best he could from the screams.

Now, as he sat at a small writing desk penning a missive for Lord Elrond, he couldn't help but smile. The fauntlings were sleeping soundly on the bed nearby, no sign of the fear that had been present earlier. Bilbo debated whether or not to send a letter to Erebor as well, before deciding against it. That would take longer than he was willing to stay here and he needed to get some rest as well. Once they reached Rivendell he would have as much time as he needed for the task.

'Besides,' Bilbo thought to himself as he changed into his sleep clothes. 'I have no idea what I would say. Something of this nature will surely be sent straight to Thorin and I don't think I'm ready to talk to the big oaf just yet. What if he's still angry and turns us away... Where would we go then? But... what if he isn't? Would he be worried to hear about the Shire? Would he be worried about me?'

Doing his best to push those thoughts aside, Bilbo climbed into his own bed, eyes locked protectively on his nephew and the young Gamgee. There would be plenty of time to fret once they were back on the road.

Half a day later found the trio on their way to Bree. The children were in much higher spirits now that they had rested and were having fun asking the elder Baggins about his previous adventure as they walked... something Bilbo found he didn't mind at all.

“You can guess how surprised I had been when thirteen dwarrows suddenly showed up at my smial.” He said, chuckling as he thought back on the fond memory. “And then when they all started throwing my mother's pottery around... I was mortified beyond belief.”

“That's when the dwarves starting singing 'That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates' right uncle?” Frodo asked, giggling as he glanced up, his blue eyes shining excitedly.

“Yes it is.” The other replied. “Back then I truly thought they were the worst thing that had ever happened to me.”

“What about now?” Sam questioned shyly as he brought up the rear of their little group.

“Well, now they're family. At least, that's how I feel about them.” Bilbo explained, letting out a sad sigh as he continued. “Though I'm afraid some of them may not feel the same.”

The three continued walking in silence. Sam and Frodo casting worried looks at the older hobbit from time to time. It was clear that something was bothering him but they didn't know how to help. The two faunts took to walking a few feet behind him as they continued on their way, whispering back and forth conspiratorially.

“Do you think Mr. Bilbo will be okay?” Sam asked his best friend as he cast a worried look in front of them.

“Don't worry Sam.” Frodo declared, taking hold of the other boys hand in a comforting manner. “Uncle's just sad because he had a fight with Thorin.”

“Thorin?” The blonde replied, recognition reflected on his young face. “You mean the king that Mr. Bilbo always speaks of?”

“MmmHmm.” The other boy hummed in agreement as he heard a rustling sound from a bush on the side of the road.

Bilbo had heard the noise as well and immediately rushed to his charge's sides.

“Get behind me boys.” He spoke lowly, drawing Sting in preparation for an attack... but none came.

Instead two young hobbits came tumbling onto the road, sheepish smiles appearing on their faces when they realized they'd been caught. Bilbo's eyes widened as he returned his letter opener to it's sheath. He should have known. With a strained smile, the former thief knelt before Merry and Pippin in order to be at eye level with the two troublemakers.

“Well now,” He began, casting a warning look toward Frodo when he heard a snicker come from his nephew's position. “How about you tell me what you're doing out here? We're almost two hours out from Brandy Hall and I doubt you've been following us this whole time.”

At least Bilbo hoped not. Sure he had been distracted for a little while, what with thinking about a certain dwarven king and all, but if tiny hobbit tykes could sneak up on him then what was stopping bandits or orcs from getting the drop on him?

Meriadoc hesitantly stepped forward as Pippin hid behind his slightly older friend.

“Umm, we got lost.” The lad admitted and now Bilbo could see how filthy and miserable the two looked. He could also see some scratches on their legs and arms.

“And why would you be out on your own in the first place?” He demanded, knowing that the nine year old wasn't telling him something. “I want the truth now, you hear.”

Both children nodded as Bilbo and the other two faunts looked on, waiting for Merry to speak once more.

“We weren't alone at first.” He admitted, shuffling his feet. “Some of our older cousins thought it would be a good idea to raid farmer Maggot's fields and they promised to give us some mushrooms if we distracted the dogs.”

Frodo let out a sharp whine at the mention of Fang, Grip, and Wolf. Sam wrapped his arm around the shorter boy's shoulder as he began trembling, offering what little comfort he could. It was no secret that the dark haired child was still pretty traumatized by his own run in with the farmer's hounds.

“And what happened then?” The adult questioned, sending his nephew a reassuring smile as he awaited the reply.

Peregrin peaked out, bolder now that it seemed as if they wouldn't be in trouble.

“We tried getting away from the dogs but we ran too far and didn't look where we were going.” He said, hand covering a particularly painful looking scrape on his arm. “We fell down a really big hill into a bramble patch.”

Bilbo let out a shocked exclamation as his eyes narrowed in worry for the two mischievous boys. There was nothing for it. They were near the river and the formerly respectable hobbit didn't want to risk infection setting in when he could easily get the duo's scratches cleaned up.

“Come on then.” He said, taking both youngsters by the hand. “Let's get those cuts taken care of.”

Frodo and Sam followed behind and soon they reached the banks of the Brandywine. Digging through his pack Bilbo pulled out a small hand towel and a bar of soap before walking over to the river and soaking it in the slow moving water. He then proceeded to clean Meriadoc and Peregrin's injuries, making sure to scrub out all the dirt. He was glad to see that there was no sign of infection yet, but still put some salve on the worst of the scratches just to be sure. As soon as he was finished, the elder Baggins pulled out some of the food he'd packed and divided it between the five of them. It wasn't much but it would tide them over until they made camp for the night.

“Now boys, where were your parents while all of this was happening?” He asked, astonished that he hadn't heard word of a search party being formed during their stay in Brandy Hall.

It was clear that these two had been out here for a day at the very least judging by how famished they were. He silently handed them each another slice of ham and a couple scones, shushing Frodo when he began to protest. He waited patiently until they'd finished their food and was rewarded when Merry spoke up once more.

“Mom and dad went to a tea party in Hobbiton with Pip's parents.” He replied, happily licking the crumbs from his fingers. “Said they wouldn't be back for a few days as they wanted to visit some other friends while they were there.”

The young Took nodded, not bothering to add anything in. Bilbo's heart clenched with worry for the lads but he wouldn't shield them from the truth... they deserved to know what could have befallen their folks. With a heavy conscience the older hobbit explained everything, rushing to comfort the pair as they broke down in tears.

“We don't know what happened to the people left in Hobbiton.” He said, conviction clearly seen in the depths of his green eyes. “But you're parents would want you to be safe. I am sure they would agree with me that the best thing for you to do would be to come to Erebor with us. Think of it as an adventure, if you will.”

“Like the ones in your stories?” The small Brandybuck asked, sniffling sadly.

“Exactly.” He responded, reaching out a hand to wipe away the tears. “I've left word with Sam's family. I'm sure that they'll let your parents know where we are.”

He refused to say 'if they're alive' but from the despondent looks he received he knew that the fauntlings understood.

“I'm glad you are both safe.” Bilbo expressed, pulling the two youngest into a tight hug which both Frodo and Sam soon joined.

When they had first reached Brandy Hall he had been worried sick when there'd been no sign of the rambunctious scamps. He couldn't risk staying longer, however, and was forced to leave before he'd seen either of them. Now, to know all four of his children were safe and sound, it was almost too good to be true. For that's what they were, his children... the faunts he cared about more than anything else. They were the only reason he had remained in Hobbiton for as long as he had after returning home. He just couldn't bear the thought of leaving them behind.

“How about we get a move on?” He proclaimed, discreetly brushing tears from his own eyes.

“Okay.” Came the response from each of the youngsters under his protection.

Packing up the few items he'd taken out of his bag Bilbo slung it over his shoulder before standing and heading back towards the road, the four children following after him like ducklings. As they walked he kept a close lookout, not wanting to lower his guard again. He was lucky that it had just been Pippin and Merry rather than someone, or something, else. The four boys were content with talking amongst themselves or playing traveling games and the hobbit thanked Yavanna that they were so well behaved... well at least most of the time that is.

As nighttime approached Bilbo had a tough decision to make. He could either push on towards Bree, they were only about an hour and a half away from the town, or set up camp and wait till morning. Casting a look back towards his boys, he made his choice.

“Okay lads, I know you're tired so we're going to set up camp here.” He announced, leading the fauntlings off the path a short ways.

All four let out happy mutters of 'Yes, Mr. Baggins.' as they followed him.

That night Bilbo sat looking into the campfire as the others slept, keeping watch. He was unwilling to let his guard down when he knew that the enemy could be close by. The sound of horse hooves drew his attention and he swiftly rose to his feet, hand resting on Sting's hilt as he turned to face the road. Moments later a ranger rode into view and he let out a sigh of relief, lowing his hand as the man slowed to a stop before him.

“Greetings, my name is Arathorn of the Dunedain.” The man introduced himself, climbing down from the beast's back as he took in the sight before him. “What is a hobbit doing out in the wilderness with four fauntlings?”

“Greetings Arathorn, I'm Bilbo Baggins of Hobbiton and I'm afraid that we were forced to flee.” He explained, knowing he could trust this man. He'd heard stories about him from Gandalf.

The other male's face grew troubled as he moved to sit next to Bilbo, silently urging the halfling to continue.

“A pack of orcs and wargs invaded the Shire. They were less than an hour out from my home when we took our leave. That was last night. I fear that those who remained are either trapped or have been slaughtered. I had tried to warn them, for I know the evils that the world holds, but I'm afraid most ignored my pleas. We are not a race of warriors and the ones who stayed would have had no way of defending themselves against such vile creatures.”

“Peace, small one.” The taller being said, placing a gentle hand on Bilbo's arm. “I will have my men ride to the Shire on the morrow and bring aid to any that still survive. We will wash away the filth that has infected your lands.”

“Thank you.” The hobbit stated, gratitude visible on his face. “I pray that what you find will not be as horrible as I expect it to be.”

A grim silence fell over them before Arathorn once more spoke up.

“Where is it that you are heading, Bilbo?” The man questioned quietly, eyes taking in the sleeping children around them.

“To Erebor.” He disclosed, eyes shut tight as he thought of the journey before them. “We'll stop in Bree to purchase supplies and hopefully a cart and pony before continuing on our way.”

Upon opening his eyes, the dwarf friend was surprised to find the man staring at him in wonder.

“Are you not frightened of the hardships that lie before you?” The ranger asked, eyes scanning the darkness in search of danger. “It is not easy to travel such a distance on your own, let alone while protecting four children.”

Bilbo sighed, allowing doubt to settle for a moment before steeling his resolve.

“Of course I am.” He revealed in a hushed tone, eyes never leaving his small charges. “But the dwarves of Erebor are the closest thing I have to family other than the children you see here. It would not feel right to trust these faunts with anyone else.”

“Very well, I wish you the best of luck.” Arathorn agreed, somewhat reluctantly. “I would offer you my assistance but I fear it is more imperative that I lead my men to the Shire. Are you sure you will be alright?”

“Yes, I have friends in Rivendell who we can seek aid from. I have already sent a letter ahead of us explaining the situation.” The hobbit said, nodding his head in acceptance. “I know the journey won't be easy... but I'm certain it will be worth it in the end. The only thing I want is for these children to be safe and what better place for that than a dwarven kingdom?”

Neither spoke for several minutes until the Ranger shifted to grab a blanket that was laying near Bilbo and drape it over the hobbit's shoulders.

“Get some rest, Master Baggins.” He said, voice pitched low. “I will keep watch tonight.”

After a moments consideration the halfling nodded, moving to his nephew's side where he curled up to sleep. He knew they would be safe as long as the ranger was watching over them. There would be many sleepless nights to come so it was best to rest while he could.

The next morning came sooner than he would have liked and he let out a groan as the sun hit his eyes. He refused to let himself fall back asleep, however, and immediately rose. Moving over to his pack he cast a look around camp, making sure everything was alright before setting out food for everyone's breakfast.

“Good morning, my friend.” He said as he brought some cheese scones over to the ranger who was currently repacking his saddlebag. “I know it's not much but the least I could do is offer you some food in return for the help you've given us.”

The man looked at the pastries, hesitating for a short while before reaching for them.

“They're good... I made them myself.” Bilbo assured, confusion marring his features at the rangers hesitance.

“I do not doubt you.” Arathorn replied, allowing a slight bit of concern to show on his rugged face. “But will you have enough for yourself and the little ones?”

Realization dawned as the hobbit smiled brightly. “There is no need to worry. We have enough to last until we reach Bree.”

Upon receiving affirmation that it was okay, the man tentatively took a bite of the scone. As the taste hit his tongue the taller being couldn't help but let out an appreciative groan before devouring the rest of the scone in a few bites.

“This is some of the best food I've ever tasted.” Arathorn complemented, starting on another of the tasty treats.

“Well, I'm very glad you like it.” Bilbo chuckled before turning back to his pack, the boys would be up any minute.

“I'm going to head back to my men.” The ranger called, moments later as he walked up on his horse. “The sooner we reach the Shire the sooner we can be of assistance to the your people.”

The other nodded, glad that help would soon be offered to the friends he'd been forced to leave behind. With that, the man rode away and Bilbo was startled when a quite voice sounded from behind him.

“Who was that, uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked, rising from his place beside a sleeping Samwise.

“That was Arathorn.” The elder replied, taking his nephew into his arms so he could snuggle the boy to his chest. “He has offered to take his men to Hobbiton and bring aid to the ones who were left behind.”

“Is he nice?” The child wondered, wary of the man riding into the distance.

“Yes Frodo, he's a very nice man.” The former burglar affirmed just as the other three children began to stir.

After breakfast the small group got underway and by ten o'clock they had reached Bree. Even at this time of day the market was bustling with activity as the vendors set up their stalls. The fauntlings carefully followed their caretaker through the streets, frightened of getting lost amongst the larger folk. Soon they had managed to acquire a room at the Prancing Pony where they deposited their bags before heading back out to obtain the provisions they needed. As they wandered around Bilbo noticed the way the boys gravitated towards a candy vendor in the middle of the row of stalls and couldn't help but grin fondly. If they were all well behaved he would be sure to stop back after they were finished in order to get them each a treat. As he watched them, however, the fifty-two year old noticed a shadow lingering in one of the alleyways. A shiver traced up his spine as he realized that the being had been watching them. He knew better than to make a scene over nothing though, so instead Bilbo stayed extra vigilant as they perused the stalls... keeping one eye on the man at all times and never letting the children wander from his side. If any misfortune were to befall his boys Bilbo was certain that he would never be able to forgive himself.

Chapter Text

It took nearly three hours but by the time the small group had finished with their shopping they had acquired everything they would need for the coming trip. Bilbo had even managed to barter a small wagon and two ponies from a man in exchange for some of the gold coins he'd collected from the troll hoard. So far everything was going to plan. The most welcome thing of all, though, was that he didn't spot the man who had been watching them again after he'd initially noticed him. At first he had been nervous about that but as the day wore on and nothing happened he grew to think that maybe he had just jumped to conclusions. But even so... in this day and age you could never be too careful.

“Umm, Mr. Baggins?” Sam spoke up, gently tugging on the former burglars sleeve.

“Yes, Samwise, my boy?” Bilbo responded, bending down so that he was at the ten year old's level.

He really needed to get the child to call him Bilbo instead of Mr. Baggins all the time. Oh well, that could wait until a later day.

“Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were wondering if we could go look at that sweet stall now?” The blonde haired child said, eyes shyly cast downward before glancing back at the others.

“And what about you?” The elder hobbit questioned, carefully tilting the smaller male's face up so that he was meeting his eyes. “Would you like to go pick out a treat?”

“Yes sir!” Sam replied enthusiastically before his cheeks reddened in embarrassment. “I mean... if that's all right with you.”

“Of course.” Bilbo smiled reassuringly. “How about we head over there now and you can each pick one. Just remember to stay close to me, alright?”

He laughed goodheartedly as the children in his care erupted in cheers before quickly agreeing to stay by his side. He knew that his little group could be very mischievous when they felt like it, enough to rival even Fili and Kili, so he was extremely pleased with how well they were behaving today. Bilbo figured it was due to the fact that this was their first time out of the Shire and they were uneasy about all the strangers. Even so it warmed his heart to see them so happy. It was a large improvement over the teary eyed faces he'd been seeing most of yesterday.

As they came to a halt before the sweets stall the halfling took one more appraising look around the market, surveying the area for any unknown threats. He was relieved to find nothing overly suspicious and settled down to wait as the boys picked out their treats. After a short wait, each of the children had decided what they wanted to get and he swiftly payed the vendor, taking the small bag in hand as he attempted to herd his little ones back to the inn. Once they were safely sealed away in their room Bilbo passed out the food, watching with a cheerful grin as the faunts happily began munching their sweets.

Frodo had chosen a rather large piece of gingerbread which he swiftly ripped in two before handing half to Sam. Likewise his friend, who had decided on a blackberry tart, did the same. The sight warmed his heart and he felt pride course through him. They were such kindhearted boys. As for Merry, he had already finished his biscuit and was currently busy wiping custard off the face of Pippin who had somehow managed to smear it all over himself. To say that it wasn't an entertaining sight would be a rather bold lie as the elder hobbit was having a hard time suppressing his chuckles.

A few hours later he was tucking the lads into bed.

“Bilbo, can you tell us one of your stories?” The young Brandybuck asked, Peregrin snuggled close to his side.

“Very well, what story would you boys like to hear?” He asked, directing his question towards all four children.

“The one where you stole the king's heart!” Frodo shouted and the others looked on in confusion.

“I've never heard that one before.” Samwise said curiously, cocking his head to one side.

“Neither have we.” Pippin asserted, moving closer to the bigger hobbit so that he could tug on his shirt. “Why did you tell Frodo and not us? That's not very nice.”

Bilbo swallowed thickly, casting a perturbed look at his nephew as the boy grinned impishly.

“Well, um, it's just...” The former burglar trailed off, trying desperately to gather his thoughts. “That story doesn't have a very good ending, wouldn't you rather hear one that's happier?

A resounding “NO!” echoed through the still air and he realized there was no getting out of it.

Once they had safely made it to Erebor, the hobbit was going to have a long talk with his nephew about blabbing things that he'd been told in confidence.

“Well, I suppose the best place to begin would be after the eagles saved us from the Pale Orc.” He stated, a sigh escaping his lips as he thought back.

'I have never been so wrong in all my life.' Thorin said honestly as he wrapped the smaller being in his strong arms. 'I am sorry for doubting you.'

The Burglar leaned into the dwarf's embrace, closing his eyes in bliss as they shared a short but sweet moment before being interrupted by the others.

That had been the moment Bilbo had realized what he felt for the stubborn leader of the company, though he remained silent... not daring to hope that the male would feel the same. He honestly couldn't remember what he'd said in return, it was all such a blur. He just knew that he couldn't let his feelings slip. He wouldn't sacrifice the tentative friendship that had just been formed.

'He would never return my feelings anyway.' Bilbo thought to himself miserably. 'He's a king, albeit one in exile, but still a king none the less. He wouldn't want a silly hobbit like me.'

It was torture, being so close to the one he loved yet knowing he would never be able to express his feelings. To make matters worse once they reached the Lonely Mountain he would be parted from Thorin, either by the dragon's fire or by having to return to his own people. It would be the same ending no matter what and, though he knew it was selfish, he wished with everything in his being that their quest would never end.

'I'd rather it stay like this than be forced to say goodbye.' He admitted to himself as he lay awake one night. 'I don't know if my heart could handle it.'

As they walked on the Baggins noticed that Thorin wasn't acting as cold as he had in days gone by. Instead he was kind, listening intently to the tales Bilbo told of the shire, sharing fleeting looks, even going so far as to briefly brush his fingers against the hobbit's face or arm. He didn't know what to make of it.

Then, as the dwarrows were imprisoned in Thranduil's dungeon, Bilbo finally came to realize that Thorin may actually return his feelings.

He had been exhausted, both physically and mentally, and was also starving. The food he managed to steal wasn't enough to sustain him yet he couldn't risk taking more. It was a relief when he finally managed to track down all thirteen members of his adopted family, for even back then that is what he thought of them as. The incident happened a few days later. He had been passing messages between Thorin and the others when suddenly dizziness overtook him. If not for the bars of the cell door the poor hobbit would have collapsed onto the hard, cobbled floor. As it was his grip began to slip as the world darkened around him.

'Burglar?' He heard a deep voice call worriedly as a hand fumbled around before latching onto his own, bringing him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

Upon receiving no reply, the leader of their company spoke once more. “Bilbo, If you can hear me I'm going to take off your ring, okay?”

He nodded slowly before realizing that Thorin would be unable to see it. It was second nature now, being invisible, but still... how could he forget? He blamed it on his spinning head.

'Okay.' He finally replied, voice weak and barely more than a whisper.

He felt the gold band being slipped off his hand and then a sharp gasp sounded in the darkened corridor. Slowly a hand came to rest against his sallow cheek, carefully directing his head so that he was meeting his dwarf's blue gaze.

'Bilbo, you need to stay awake.' Thorin urged, softly shaking his small frame. 'Let me check your head. I need to see if you have a concussion.'

Before he could protest gentle fingers kneaded through his hair and the hobbit let out a pleased sigh, it was the most relaxed he'd been since before they entered this accursed forest. But then, like all good things, it came to an end. The sounds of conversation sounded from around the corner and Thorin drew back his hand, swiftly returning the ring to the hobbit's finger before speaking in a hushed tone.

'Bilbo, you must get out from in front of the door before the elves open my cell. If you can manage it I want you to sneak inside once it's been opened.' He whispered fervently, eyes full of utmost concern. 'It's not much but at least then you will be safe to rest and eat. You must recover your strength before we make our escape. I would be loath to let anything happen to you if it was something I could have prevented.'

The hobbit wasn't sure what to make of Thorin's words and he had no time to think on it, for at that moment two elves appeared around the corner and he was forced to shuffle away so as not to be stepped on. As the cell door was opened so that the duo could slide in a tray of food, Bilbo managed to sidle past them without being noticed. It was a close call, however, as he tripped and landed on the floor of the dungeon with an audible thud. Thankfully the imprisoned dwarf was quick enough to cover for him, comically throwing himself off the small bed he'd retreated to just before the elven guards turned back around to find the source of the noise. Bilbo glanced up as their prison wardens began laughing uproariously, noticing the embarrassed blush on the company leader's face.

'Thorin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...' Bilbo spoke up after the elves had finally departed only to be interrupted by his dwarf.

'Do not apologize.' The exiled king spoke, voice low and kind. 'You did well to make it past them in your state. My wounded pride is nothing when compared to your well-being.'

He knelt in front of the halfling, reaching out carefully until he managed to locate the smaller beings shoulder. Bilbo moved slightly so as to remove the ring and, as he came back into sight, Thorin's eyes locked with his own. The gaze he was gifted with was more tender than the hobbit had ever seen on the normally temperamental dwarf's face... and it made his breath catch in his chest.

'Take my hand...' The stouter being said, holding out the hand that wasn't currently supporting Bilbo. 'I'll help you to the cot so you can rest.'

The younger male nodded and allowed his dwarf to help him up. Once he was settled on the thin mattress Thorin handed him the food the elves had left behind, being sure to remind him to eat slowly. In the end the hobbit stayed in the cell for several days, resting and gathering his strength. He managed to free the dwarrows less than a week later.

“Well, I think that's enough for now.” Bilbo stated as he watched his fauntlings begin to yawn.

“But uncle...” Frodo whined at the same time the other three began to raise their own complaints.

“No buts.” He replied calmly. “We have an early start tomorrow so I want you all to be well rested. I promise I'll continue the story later but for now I'd like you four to go to sleep.”

“Okay.” The children relented, albeit a bit grudgingly, as the former burglar set about tucking them into bed.

The next morning Bilbo woke with the dawn and set about repacking the few belongings they'd taken from their bags the previous night. Afterwards he set about waking the boys. It was quite the chore seeing as they'd rather stay in bed than get ready for the long day before them. Even so, the elder hobbit persisted and managed to drag them all downstairs for a large breakfast before they hit the road. The sun had been up for only a couple hours when Bilbo gathered the faunts together and got them situated inside the wagon before pulling out of the stable. The fifty two year old sat up front, smiling fondly as he listened to the chatter taking place behind him. The smile faded however as he glanced back towards the Shire only to see smoke rising from beyond the green hills. He hoped and prayed that Sam, Merry, and Pippin's families had survived the onslaught yet knew in his heart that the possibility of them all still living was rather slim. That didn't change the fact that the boys were safe, however, and he would be certain to keep them that way.

Letting out a sneeze, Bilbo reached into his pocket for his handkerchief but was surprised when his skin brushed against something distinctly metallic. His hand wrapped around the item and he drew it forth, letting out a startled gasp as his magic ring came into sight. He had been certain that he'd left it at Bag End in his panic to get Frodo to safety... yet here it was. That thought caused an apprehensive shiver to trace down his spine. The halfling knew there was something wrong with the ring he had found. There was no way that a piece of jewelery should have such power held within it and he couldn't help but think of all the evil the Arkenstone had cause. Right then and there Bilbo decided that he would never again use it's power unless in a dire situation where his children's lives were at stake.

The small group made good time after leaving Bree and within a few days they had made it to the Trollshaws where the youngsters stood in awe as they gazed up at the stone trolls from the elder hobbit's tales.

“Are these really the same trolls from your stories?” Peregrin asked, trying to clamber up one of the statues legs.

“The very same.” The adult spoke in a theatrical way as he pointed to a spot in the middle of the trolls. “It was right here that these brutes had their spit and were trying to roast some of the company while the others were kept in sacks off to the side here. If I hadn't managed to keep them distracted long enough for Gandalf to arrive and split that big rock over there to let in the sun, it's most likely we'd all have been eaten for dinner.”

“Wow!” The little hobbits exclaimed, excitement shining on their small faces.

“Is this where you got the treasure you brought home?” Called Samwise a short time later, having wandered away slightly to explore.

Their caretaker walked over and was astonished to find that the young Gamgee had managed to uncover the hidden entrance to the troll hoard.

“Why yes, Sam, it is.” He responded, affectionately patting the boy's head. “You have keen eyes little one.”

The shy child blushed at the praise and ducked his head. Bilbo hoped that he would be able to coax the faunt out of his shell a little. If not, he was positive that the dwarves would see to it once they reached Erebor.

“Hmm, it's getting rather late.” He declared, glancing at the darkening sky. “I think we'll set up camp here for the night and continue on in the morning. If we're lucky we may reach Rivendell by tomorrow afternoon.”

“You mean we'll get to see the elves!” Sam cried, slapping his hands over his mouth a moment later as he realized what he'd done.”

The elder Baggins laughed internally, maybe he wouldn't have to wait till Erebor after all.

“Of course.” He said knowingly, the elves had always been the blonde ten year old's favorite part of his stories. “What kind of adventure would this be if it didn't have elves, right Sam?”

His gardener's son nodded in return, back to his quiet self though the smile remained for all to see.

“Will we get to meet the eagles? Or Radagast?” Merry voiced loudly, thrilled by the chance of meeting some of the characters he'd heard so much about. “Ooh, ooh, what about Beorn!? Will we meet him?”

“Well, we'll just have to see. I doubt we'll be seeing the eagles or Radagast. Neither of them live near the path we're taking.” Seeing the distraught look clouding Meriadoc's face, the former thief hurried on. “But we may be able to stop and rest at Beorn's house once we cross over the mountains. I'm sure he wouldn't mind.”

He was rewarded with a high pitched squeal as he watched the nine year old nearly vibrate from excitement.

A short while later they were sat around a roaring fire in the middle of the three troll statues eating some stew the older hobbit had cooked for dinner. It was then that Bilbo noticed a shadowy figure lurking in the trees behind them and immediately ordered the children to hide in the wagon. Drawing Sting from it's sheath he waited, vigilantly watching for any movement his unknown adversary may make.

“Uncle, what's going on?” Frodo called, fear clouding his voice as he peaked out from the back of the covered wagon.

“Shh... not now lad.” The elder Baggins replied curtly, whipping around as a stick snapped behind him.

He managed to catch sight of a second man mere moments before he ducked behind some nearby bushes. Now Bilbo was getting worried. How many people were out there? What did they want? He'd heard tell of slavers wandering the woods around Bree and desperately hoped that's not who these men were. A few bandits he could deal with but a large, organized group... he wasn't so sure.

Just then a man rushed forward, sword drawn and eyes glinting. The hobbit managed to deflect his attack, turning in time to avoid a blow from the man's ally as well. Taking a step back Bilbo swung Sting with all his might, managing to strike a blow across the second man's upper thigh. The halfling didn't watch as his opponent fell to the ground, instead turning to face his other adversary. The taller being thrust his sword forward, hoping to imbed it in the smaller male's chest only for his attack to be parried and himself forced to jump aside as his target brought forth his own attack. They stayed like that for several minutes, locked together in a deadly dance, neither willing to step down.

“Bilbo!” One of the children cried out, causing the older hobbit to swiftly glance towards his young charges in time to block the knife that had been thrown at his head.

Quickly grabbing the discarded weapon from where it had fallen on the ground the former burglar skillfully flung it back towards the second enemy, pinning him to a nearby tree through the throat. With that threat taken care of he rounded once more on the remaining bandit.

“Why are you doing this? We have nothing of value.” He exclaimed, clashing swords with the scruffy man.

“We saw you waving around all that gold in Bree, don't you try and fool me.” The bandit snarled, greed filling his eyes.

Bilbo sighed. he had been loath to take out any of the money from the trolls hoard while at the market but it had been the only way to procure the wagon and ponies. No one had been willing to settle for a lower price and had forced his hand. It didn't matter though, he had no use for the precious metal other than using it for the good of his little family. It seems now that some lowlifes had been lurking around at the time... he should have been more careful.

“I will take it all and then I'll never have to work another day in my life! All I have to do is kill you!” The man exclaimed as he flailed his blade around... managing to nick Bilbo's arm and leaving a bloody gash in his wake.

The formerly respectable hobbit hissed in pain as he lashed out once more. It was clear that there was no use talking to this man. His judgment had been clouded by gold-lust. In that moment all Bilbo could think of was Thorin, caught in the thralls of madness, and the pain he'd felt when his lover banished him.

Coming back to reality the halfling noticed that he'd let his guard slip and immediately readied himself for the onslaught that he was sure would come. But it never did.

Instead a slough of stones came from no where, pelting the criminal in the head and chest before he was able to strike.

“Leave Uncle Bilbo alone!” He heard Frodo yell as the others joined in with their own shouts.

“Yea, leave him alone you big bully!”

“Mr. Bilbo won't lose to someone like you!”

“You messed with the wrong hobbit, you jerk!”

With his enemy distracted Bilbo took his chance to attack, driving Sting deep within the man's stomach. As his enemy fell to the ground the hobbit cleaned his letter opener on the grass before turning toward the cart where his nephew and the others had been hiding. He couldn't help but smile as he saw them standing on the ground beside the ponies, rocks clutched in their tiny fists and fierce looks on their tear stained faces. It was clear that they where trying their hardest to be brave yet the elder Baggins knew they must have been terribly frightened.

“It's alright now boys.” He said soothingly, moving over to stand before the small group of fauntlings before kneeling and pulling them into his arms. “We're safe now. Thank you all for your help. I may not have beaten him if it weren't for you.”

The boy's faces lit up at the praise, fear melting away as Bilbo lifted them back into the cart before gathering their supplies and leading the ponies onward. It seemed it would be best to push on towards Rivendell tonight rather than wait till morning like originally planned, after all, who knew if there were more bandits lurking about. Glancing into the wagon, the ring-bearer let a peaceful expression cross his face. It was better to be safe instead of taking unnecessary risks, he decided, especially when it came to his precious children.

Chapter Text

The night wore on as Bilbo led the ponies through the wooded area, wary of the many noises he kept hearing. It had been less than thirty minutes since they had left the trolls behind and he was worried that more bandits may be nearby. The hobbit quietly peered into the cart, glad to find his boys sound asleep though he was worried they would soon be awoken by nightmares. If there had been any other way to guarantee their safety other than slaying those bandits he would have taken it. Sadly it would have been too risky to let them leave. Who knows if they would have returned at a later date. No, it was better this way. The lads understood that he had only done what he had in order to protect them and he would deal with any consequences that may arise from that decision as they came to light. Sighing, the hobbit once again closed the tarp that served as an entrance to the covered wagon, it wouldn't due for the faunts to catch a chill from the night air. It had been a taxing day on them all and he knew that it would only get worse once they began their hike over the Misty Mountains. They couldn't afford to delay if they expected to reach Erebor by the start of winter.

Suddenly a noise sounded in the darkness and Bilbo drew his weapon. Glancing down, he let out a sigh of relief when he realized that Sting wasn't glowing the icy blue it would if there were orcs nearby. Good, one less thing for him to deal with, though he still couldn't be sure they were safe. Staying alert, the ring-bearer scanned the darkened shadows, looking for anything that moved. Noticing a shifting form in the stillness, he drew forth one of his throwing knives and let it fly, satisfied upon hearing a startled yelp.

“Peace, friend, we mean you no harm.” A voice called before a fair haired elf stepped forward in the moonlight, arms raised in a non-threatening way.”

“Legolas?” Bilbo breathed in surprise as he lowered his weapon. “What are you doing here?”

The young elf stepped forward, a few others following close behind, one of which was nursing a shallow cut to his side.

“I have been staying with Lord Elrond in Rivendell and we recently gained the knowledge that bandits have been terrorizing this route.” The princling stated, trying to hide his smile. “He also received your letter and told us to escort you to Rivendell if we happened upon you... though it seems you can take care of yourself.”

“Yes, well, you elves should know better than to sneak around in the dark when there are enemies nearby. We just so happen to have run into a few of the bandits you mentioned.” He revealed, holding up a hand when it looked as if he would be interrupted. “I left both of them near the feet of the trolls. They won't be bothering anyone anymore, I made sure of that.”

The coldness in Bilbo's eyes caused a few of the elves to shiver, they had never before seen a halfling wear an expression such as that. Legolas' eyes narrowed, thoughts swirling with concern for his friend. It was obvious that this hobbit was not the same one he'd met only a couple of years ago. He was less sheltered, more willing to do what was necessary to survive. The prince knew that war changes a person and the being standing before him had seen his fair share of hardships during his original journey. He also had children to protect, the elf recalled the letter the elven lord and read aloud, and his friend would do whatever it took to keep his little ones safe. He had already proven that once by making sure they got out of the Shire safely... and now again with the bandits.

“Very well,” The taller being said at last as he placed a soothing hand on the hobbit's shoulder. “Would you like to continue on or make camp and rest for the night?”

The halfling sighed, the boys were still sleeping soundly it seemed and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't exhausted, but the Last Homely House was only a few leagues away. Making up his mind, the fifty two year old gathered up the ponies reigns and climbed back onto the wagon.

“If it's alright with you, I would rather get to Rivendell as soon as possible.” He declared, hoping his friend would agree with his decision. “I don't want to risk another run in with unfriendly forces.”

Thranduil's son nodded and was about to walk away to inform him comrades when his keen eyes caught sight of the red stain on Bilbo's coat sleeve.

“You're hurt.” The elf spoke, worry plain in his voice as he brought the hobbit's arm closer for inspection.

“It's just a shallow cut. I can take care of it once we reach the valley.” He tried arguing but was silenced by the stern look the young archer turned on him.

“What would you do, Bilbo, if it got infected?” The Blonde asked, casting a meaningful look towards where he knew the fauntlings to be sleeping in the back of the wagon. “Would you leave them alone to fend for themselves? How long do you think they would last in the wilderness? How long before they die or an even worse fate befalls them?”

The hobbit remained silent for a time, thinking about what could happen to his boys if he happened to perish before they reached their destination. A shiver coursed through him and he clenched his teeth. He refused to allow that to happen! Sullenly holding out his arm, Bilbo allowed the elven prince to examine his wound... he was not so influenced by Thorin to let his pride get in the way of accepting his friend's help and advice.

“You are right about it being shallow, little one, but I still think we should cleanse the wound and bandage it before we leave here.” Legolas decided, taking out a small roll of cloth, a bit of healing balm, and some water from his pack. “I suspect it will heal without leaving a scar.”

Bilbo nodded, biting his tongue so as to stop a cutting retort from escaping, and allowed the elf to treat his injury. He was perfectly normal sized for a hobbit, thank you very much, and the elf knew it all too well! He also knew that the Baggins was sensitive about that kind of thing and loved to exploit the fact. He hissed quietly, turning a stinging glare on the noble elf as the wound was thoroughly cleaned and the healing balm placed over the cut before his friend bandaged it with a clean cloth. Less than ten minutes later they were en route to the elven city of Imladris. It was a great relief when they entered the valley early the next morning.

As the caravan halted before the steps of the main building, the older hobbit felt a tug on his shirt. Glancing over his shoulder he chuckled quietly. It was little Samwise, eyes wide and shining in wonder as he looked around at the gathered group.

“Mr. Bilbo... those are elves!” The child whispered in awe, excitement causing him to bounce in his seat.

“Yes they are, Sam.” The former burglar agreed, smiling fondly as he turned to fully face the boy. “We have made it to Rivendell. You'll be seeing elves quite frequently until we leave here.”

The young Gamgee opened his mouth but no sound came out. He then closed it and tried again with the same results, leaving him looking a bit like a fish out of water. Taking this opportunity, Bilbo reached forward and lifted the blonde faunt onto his lap as he cast a quick look towards the others... glad to see them still asleep for the moment. He would have to make sure to spend some one on one time with each of his boys. The last thing he wanted was for one to feel left out.

Sam let out a quiet squeak as he was settled before snuggling into his caretaker's embrace. The older being could tell that the lad dearly missed his family but he would do his best to be there for him. Noticing Legolas heading their way, the elder Baggins grinned mischievously. As the elf grew closer he discreetly signaled to his friend. Once he'd gotten a nod in return he loosened his grip on the normally shy fauntling. Just as Sam was glancing up to see what was the matter a new pair of hands hooked him under the arms and scooped in up, higher and higher, until he came face to face with a smiling elf.

All the little boy could do was stare in amazement as the elven male chuckled in delight. Then, a brilliant smile lit up Sam's face and he threw both arms around the larger being's neck, shyness completely forgotten. With a surprised cry, Legolas fell backwards onto his rear... the fauntling still secure in his arms. Bilbo couldn't contain his laughter any longer and he let it loose, earning a faux glare from his pointy eared friend in return as he managed to regain his feet. All in all the sound managed to wake the other three children who poked their heads out of the cart moments later, idly rubbing sleep from their eyes as they looked for what had woken them. It was a comical sight to behold when they realized where they were. Soon the lads were attempting to climb over one another in their quest to be the first out of the wagon.

“Boys...” Bilbo finally stepped in worried that one of them, most likely Pippin since he was the smallest, would get hurt in the fray. “If you settle down I will help you all out and we can go meet our host, Lord Elrond.”

That did the trick and soon enough the remaining hobbit children were standing in a fidgeting group near their caretaker. Sam, however, refused to relinquish his hold on the blonde prince... choosing instead to hide his face in the elf's silken hair. The former burglar made a move to grab him only for Legolas to shake his head, smiling down at the shy child held carefully in his arms as he began to lead the way into the building. Bilbo shook his head fondly, herding the other three through the entryway.

Inside they were promptly greeted by Lord Elrond himself. The dark haired elf smiled at his old friend's son and the young ones he had brought with him. He had missed Belladonna greatly over the years and was very happy when he had finally gotten the chance to meet her child. He had been rather upset when the dwarves Bilbo had been traveling with had whisked him away before they'd gotten to know one another. However, he'd made up for that fact when the younger male had stopped by with Mithrandir on their return journey.

“Welcome back to Rivendell, Master Baggins.” He said, chuckling under his breath as the hobbit huffed in annoyance.

“You know very well that I prefer you to call me Bilbo.” The smaller being argued, his voice taking on an indignant tone.

“Come, Bilbo, I have prepared your rooms.” Elrond declared as he turned away, hiding his amused laughter to the best of his ability. “I am sure the children, as well as yourself, are exhausted from your journey.”

“We are, it's definitely different from the last time I passed this way.” He revealed, smiling as he thought of his dwarven family. “I never realized how tiring it was to constantly look after four faunts all on your own. I don't know how some women deal with even larger broods in the Shire.”

That earned unrestrained chuckles from their host and the prince with Bilbo joining in as well a few moments later. He glanced at the children, noticing that Sam had drifted back to sleep in his new friend's arms while the others were about ready to follow his example. He sighed, bending down to pick up Peregrin who looked about to fall over and, as an after thought, heaved a yawning Meriadoc into his arms as well.

“I hate to be a bother...” Bilbo spoke quietly, turning to glance at the elven lord. “But could you grab Frodo. I'm afraid I've got my hands full with these two.”

“It is no bother... in fact I would be honored to help with the little one.” Elrond stated, gently leaning down and taking the tiny hobbit into his embrace. “It has been many years since my own children were this young. I find that I miss it more than I'd once thought I would.”

He smiled kindly at the elven lord and, as the former burglar followed the older male down a long hallway, he couldn't help but think of Thorin carrying his nephew in the same way that Elrond was doing now. Upon coming to an open door the dark haired elf paused, ushering the elder Baggins through into a room that had been prepared for them with hobbit sized furniture.

Bilbo swiftly set about tucking the children into bed. First Merry and Pippin and then Sam and Frodo. Once he'd taken the sleeping Samwise from Legolas' arms the prince departed, stating he had business to attend to elsewhere. The hobbit nodded in understanding, noticing that the remaining elf stayed waiting near the doorway. It was only a matter of minutes before he had all four faunts tucked safely into the warm beds the elven lord had provided.

“Goodnight uncle.” A sleepy voice sounded just as Bilbo was about to turn away.

He smiled down at the black haired lad before softly rustling his hair. “Goodnight, my boy.”

Watching fondly as the children fell into a peaceful sleep, the elder hobbit let out a content sigh. After everything that had occurred the night before, the fauntlings had only gotten a few hours of sleep so it was no wonder they were still tuckered out. It was then that Elrond approached, placing a kind hand on the shorter being's shoulder.

“One of my men has informed me that you'd had a run in with bandits before they found you.” His friend expressed, turning concerned eyes on the younger being as they moved toward a set of chairs several feet away from the beds. “Are you well?”

“It was just a small skirmish.” The halfling replied, subconsciously rubbing the bandage on his arm that was hidden from view. “The leader did manage to nick my arm at one point, but that was all.”

Upon noticing the doubt on the elf's face he hurriedly rushed to reassure the immortal.

“Don't worry, Legolas as already seen to it.” Bilbo said, smiling widely to soothe the taller being. “He said it should heal just fine.”

Nodding stiffly, Elrond decided that it was time to let the hobbit get to bed, he had had a long couple of days and it would not do to have him collapse from exhaustion.

“I will take my leave then.” The elf proclaimed, smiling fondly as Bilbo yawned. “Rest now, my friend, I will have one of my people come fetch you later this evening for dinner.”

With that, the Lord of Imladris was gone and Bilbo slowly shut the door before making his way over to the remaining bed and swiftly falling into a dreamless sleep.

Several hours later found the older hobbit finishing up bathing the boys. He had woken up with enough time to clean himself while the youngsters were still lost in their dreams and now it was nearly time for supper. Helping the last of the faunts out of the tub, Bilbo wrapped each of them in a fluffy towel before leading them back into the main room. He then helped them dry off and get dressed in the clothes that had been provided for them. Certain that the elven apparel would be too big even on him, the former burglar was surprised to find that the outfits provided fit each of them perfectly. Somehow the elves must have managed to tailor the outfits while he and the lads were asleep. Shaking his head at that thought he dismissed it from his mind. He wouldn't put it past his host to have measured them while they slept.

“Now boys, I want you to be on your best behavior at supper.” He stated, turning toward the smaller hobbits. “It wouldn't do to be disrespectful to someone who has offered us their help.”

“If we're good will you tell us more of the story?” Peregrin asked, nearly bouncing in place.

“Please, Mr. Bilbo.” Merry added, correcting the smaller boy on his bad manners.

The elder Baggins thought about it for a moment before nodding. He may be a bit hesitant to tell them the rest of that particular tale but if it ensured their cooperation then he was willing to make the deal.

“Yay!” The small group cheered as smiles split their faces.

Less than half an hour later they were seated around a long table with their elven hosts. It wasn't long before Elrond brought up their journey as his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, kept the faunts entertained.

“So Erebor is your destination.” The dark haired elf said as Bilbo finished telling him of the events that had lead up to their arrival. “You are more than welcome to remain here if you so wished but I can tell that your heart longs for the family you left behind.”

“Thank you for the kind offer, my friend, but you are right.” The halfling declared, eyes turning sad as he thought about the dwarves in their mountain so very far away. “I miss them terribly. Right now all I desire is to go home, though I don't know if they feel the same. I'm afraid that we'll get there and be turned away at the gate for what I have done. I know most of the company has forgiven me but... I have barely spoke to Thorin since the incident.”

“I'm afraid I cannot speak for the King under the Mountain...” The elven lord trailed off, gathering his thoughts. “But in my opinion, any who would hold a grudge over something that saved their life and the lives of their kin is not worth concerning yourself with.”

Upon seeing the saddened look sent his way, Elrond sighed, reaching out to softly pat the shorter being's shoulder.

“Write to him.” He spoke, wisdom dripping from his voice like an ancient fountain. “Write of all your fears, insecurities, and tell him what has happened. I am sure that he has been as torn about your departure as you have been.”

The formerly respectable hobbit swallowed thickly before giving the elf a quick nod. He knew in his heart that it was the right thing to do. He should have spoken about this to Thorin long ago but he was a coward. He was frightened to think of what would become of him if he learned that his dwarf still hated him for what he'd done. It had all been for him, for their peculiar little family. Surely Thorin had to have realized that by now.

Silence fell over their section of the table as the hobbit contemplated everything that he wished to tell the king he still loved so dearly.

Later that night after Bilbo had finished tucking the children into bed he made good on his promise to them, resuming the tale he had left off the night before.

“Let's see... we had just gotten free of Thranduil's dungeon.” He said, placing his hand against his mouth in thought.

The river rushed around the hobbit, trying it's best to pull him down into the murky depths. Bilbo sputtered as his head broke the surface for the countless time and he drew in a deep, gasping breath only to be dunked again moments later. He had known this plan was risky but it was the only way he could save his family.

Around him the battle raged. Dwarves, elves, and orcs all caught in a deadly clash of steel. It was nearly too much for the half drowned burglar to take in. Just then a stray arrow imbedded itself in the barrel he was clinging so desperately to, causing him to lose his grip and plummet into the swift flowing current.

'Is this it?' He thought to himself as his chest collided with a thick piece of driftwood, forcefully expelling the air from his lungs. 'Is this how I am to die? I haven't even gotten to tell Thorin how I feel, please... don't let this be the end. Don't let my adventure be over!'

All of a sudden a hand clamped down around his wrist and with a strong jerk that nearly dislocated his shoulder he was freed of the water and pressed against the muscled chest of Thorin Oakenshield himself. Bilbo coughed as the company's leader patted him on the back, water spraying from his mouth as he shivered in the cool air.

'Thank you.' He said once he got himself under control, glancing into the blue eyes of the exiled king. 'If not for you I'm certain I would have drowned.'

'Do not thank me.' Thorin replied, eyes narrowed in concerned frustration. 'If not for me you wouldn't have been in danger. It is my fault you are on this quest to begin with instead of being safe in your cozy hobbit hole.'

Bilbo didn't have the strength to argue so instead settled for glaring at the older male.

The battle soon died out and they were able to drag themselves to shore where most of the company promptly collapsed of exhaustion. Their respite was short lived however, for mere minutes later their leader was urging them to their feet.

A few days later they were in Lake Town and Bilbo had fallen ill with a terrible cold due to his dunk in the river. Oin had taken a look at him and proclaimed that he was not to leave bed for at least three days. By then he was hopeful that the fever would be gone and their burglar be on the mend. Though the thing that no one expected was that the fourteenth member of the company despised sitting still and doing nothing. To be fair, they hadn't even offered him a book! Yes a lot of the time he had someone watching over him whom he could chat with but there's only so much gardening a dwarf will bear listening about before they inescapably take their leave. That is what happened on the second day of his recovery.

Bilbo's fever had been decreasing all morning and he saw nothing wrong with getting out of bed in order to find something more productive to spend his time on.

Though he loved hearing about little Gimli, Gloin had been talking his ear off so when he saw the chance to change the topic he had taken it. After nearly an hour of explaining the different methods of growing tomatoes the ginger haired dwarf had suddenly excused himself, stating that he had forgotten to attend to their ponies. Smiling to himself, the halfling had waited nearly ten minutes to make sure no one would enter the room before climbing to his feet and heading for the door.

'Now, let's see if I can find the kitchen.' He pondered, peeking around the corner before silently sneaking through the house they had been given to use. 'It should be near the entryway towards the back of the first floor.'

It had taken him quite awhile to make his way there, seeing as the room he was supposed to be resting in was on the second level, and by the time he'd managed to bake a quick quiche the poor hobbit was panting heavily and his fever had spiked.

'Bilbo!' He heard a startled shout sound from the kitchen entryway, prompting him to turn around.

However, the formerly respectable hobbit was not expecting a wave of dizziness to suddenly overwhelm him, causing him to black out. By the time he once again opened his eyes he was laying on the floor, head cradled protectively in Kili's lap as his brother raced from the room. Down the hall Bilbo could just make out Fili's voice over the pounding in his head.

'Just hang on Mr. Boggins.' The dark haired prince said anxiously, trying to draw a reaction from his friend. 'Don't worry, we'll have you back to bed in no time... just as soon as uncle gets here.'

The halfling was certain that the young dwarf had meant to be reassuring but thinking about the chewing out he was about to receive did little to calm him. Mere moments later a worried king in exile raced through the doorway, dropping to his knees beside the downed burglar and swiftly taking his nephew's place.

'What were you thinking?' He asked gruffly, drawing forth the memory of a similar conversation to the forefront of the weakened hobbit's mind. 'You should be in bed. You have no right to be cooking in your condition.'

'I was bored.' Even to Bilbo that sounded like a terrible excuse but, somehow, it managed to bring a smile to his beloved's face.

'That doesn't mean you can just go wandering about without telling anyone, much less bake pastries.' The normally stubborn dwarf chuckled, having calmed down slightly since it appeared his hobbit wasn't in any immediate danger. 'Oin will have my head for letting this happen, and he'll have yours for not following his orders.'

Worriedly biting his lip Bilbo glanced pleadingly at the larger being, a look of pure terror crossing his face.

'He doesn't have to find out, right?' He squeaked anxiously, voice no louder than a whisper, before asking more adamantly. 'Right Thorin?'

Just as the royal was opening his mouth to respond a shout sounded from the door, instantly turning their blood to ice in their veins.

'WHAT'S THIS I HEAR ABOUT OUR BURGLAR BEING OUT OF BED!'

A soft snoring alerted Bilbo to the fact that the children had fallen asleep and he let a fond smile spread across his face as he leaned forward to place a soft kiss on each of his boys' heads. It was already quite late so he decided that it would be best to retire to his own bed for the night as well. He would write to Thorin first thing in the morning, though he was still uncertain what he would say. Yet even so, the fifty-two year old knew in his heart that this was the right thing to do, he just hoped his beloved would understand.

Chapter Text

Bilbo couldn't sleep. Thoughts kept swirling in his mind about what he would say to Thorin in his letter and what the dwarf's reaction would be. What if he didn't want them to come to Erebor? What if he did? What would his lost love think of the boys?

With an irritated groan, the hobbit flipped the covers back and got out of bed. There was no point laying there worrying about things when he could be productive and just get the stupid letter written already! So he lit a candle and made his way over to the small desk situated in the corner of the room furthest from the beds, being extra careful not to make any noise that would wake the sleeping faunts. Once there he set about gathering paper, ink, and a quill before settling down in the wooden chair... the candle placed off to the side where it would provide adequate light.

'Now what do I say to that idiot?' He asked himself, smiling fondly as he thought of the man he still loved.

After a few moments hesitation he started writing.

'Dear King Under the Mountain,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have heard that you are making great progress in the restoration of both Erebor and Dale. I have also heard that you have established trade with the elves. I have to say, it's about time you got over yourself and...'

Sighing, Bilbo crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it in a nearby bin. He couldn't say that, he didn't want to give the king any more reasons to turn them away. Taking hold of a new piece of paper the ring-bearer began again.

'Dear Thorin,

How are you? I'm afraid that I am in some rather serious trouble at the moment. You see, orcs have invaded the Shire and forced me to flee with the four children I've told you all about in my previous letters. I thought that maybe we would be able to seek refuge with yo...'

No, no, no... that was too straight forward. He couldn't just come right out and say it. It was too presumptuous of him to think that he'd be welcome without a proper explanation. That paper joined the other as he once again grabbed a clean sheet.

'Thorin,

I hope this finds you well. I know we haven't spoken in a long time, nearly two years, but I find that I am missing the easy banter we used to share. I'm certain that you are busy but if you find the time maybe we could write each other? I have so much to tell you, though I'm sure the other members of the company have been keeping you updated as to what I've been...'

“Ugh, why is this so hard?” Bilbo growled quietly, tearing the latest attempt in half before tossing it in the bin.

That attempt had been far too informal and he had entirely avoided the point of why he was writing this letter in the first place! The halfling just couldn't seem to voice what he wanted to. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo put quill to parchment once more. His problem seemed to stem from over thinking and if that was true... maybe all he had to do was write what was in his heart.

'Dear Thorin,

It's been a long time. I truly hope you are well. I have heard from the others that you have become a worthy king and I am so proud of everything you have accomplished in the time I've been away. However I am not writing this out of a desire to hear of your exploits, I am afraid, but out of necessity. Orcs have invaded the Shire. My home is lost to me just as yours once was. As of now I am on the run from those vile creatures, doing my best to protect the young ones in my care. I'm sure you've heard of them from our friends. My nephew Frodo, his cousins Merry and Pippin, as well as his best friend Sam. They are all here with me, safe, and so far I have managed to protect them. I have been on my own in this endeavor, with only a little help from the elves of Rivendell and a ranger who has offered to bring aid to any that managed to survive the initial attack... I have no idea where that meddling wizard is (I haven't seen him since he accompanied me home from the quest). Lord Elrond has been most welcoming, seeing to all our needs and making sure we are well taken care of, he has offered us shelter for as long as we desire... but I cannot stay here. After everything that's happened in recent days I need my family. I need to come home. I know you may not have forgiven me for all that I have done but please, I have nowhere else to go. You and the company are the only ones I would trust to watch over my boys if anything were to happen to me. I have many things I would like to tell you, many regrets to bring into the light, but I don't feel comfortable voicing them in a letter. Some things are just meant to be spoken in person. So I say again, please let me come home... my heart will not rest easy until I'm with you again. If you can't do this for me then do it for the welfare of the children I travel with. They need somewhere safe where they can grow without fear. I promise Thorin, I will tell you everything when we meet again, but for now I must rest... we have a long journey ahead of us. By the time you receive this letter we will already be back on the road. If my estimate is correct we should reach Erebor's gates by mid fall at the latest. Please don't turn us away.

With warm regards,

Your burglar, Bilbo Baggins

P.S. I've missed you dearly, you stubborn dwarf.'

With a sad smile Bilbo folded the letter and set it aside. He would ask Lord Elrond about sending it in the morning but for now he needed to get some sleep. Blowing out the candle, the hobbit slowly made his way back to bed where he snuggled down into the blankets. His thoughts were no longer swirling in his head, instead a calm peacefulness had taken it's place and he swiftly fell into a deep, restful sleep.

The next morning flew by with Bilbo sending the letter and then getting himself and the lads ready for their jaunt over the Misty Mountains. He prayed to the Lady Yavanna that it would go better than the first time he'd been forced to cross that range. Soon the time came to say goodbye to their hosts and the hobbit was surprised to find himself pulled aside by Legolas. The blonde prince wore a serious expression as he leaned down to whisper in his friend's ear.

“Bilbo, I know you planned to take the same route you took when you traveled with the dwarves but I have to warn you... do not travel through the Greenwood.” He declared, causing Bilbo to raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Why?” He asked, somewhat wary of the answer he may receive. “Is there something wrong, Legolas?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so. It's my father... he may have established trade with the dwarven king but he has still not forgiven him for keeping the White Gems of Lasgalen.” The princling revealed, placing a calming hand on the shorter being's shoulder.

“But...” The former burglar trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. “But Thorin returned them... Balin told me so in a letter.”

“That may be true but my father is known for being just as stubborn as your dwarf.” The light haired elf stated with a knowing look, before growing serious once more. “He also still holds a grudge towards you for saving King Thorin and the rest of his company from our dungeons. I do not think he would try and harm you, especially not with the little ones around, but I would rather you avoid taking that path anyways. If you head north, following the border of the forest, you should eventually reach a path that will take you between the Grey Mountains and Greenwood. You'll have to be careful for Orcs are known to roam that area but I feel it is a safer choice if you wish to make Erebor by the start of Winter.”

“You think Thranduil would try and detain us?” The smaller male asked, huffing out an aggravated breath. “That elf is surprisingly good at getting on my nerves. I can't believe he would do such a thing.”

“Not only that but I fear he may try and ransom you.” The elven prince disclosed, eyes shut in shame. “He knows how important you are to the company of Thorin Oakenshield and would most likely take advantage of that bond for personal amusement.”

Bilbo sighed, taking a detour such as that would most likely add at least a weeks worth of traveling to their journey, if not two, not to mention that it lead through orc infested territory. But it was the only way they would make it to Erebor by winter other than the forest path. There was nothing else for it... they couldn't risk getting caught by the elven king. With that decision made, the halfling clasped hands with his friend in thanks before turning to say a farewell to Lord Elrond. The elven lord had offered to send a couple guides with the hobbit, to provide safe escort over the mountains, to which Bilbo had gladly accepted. The two elves were currently waiting nearby with the children.

“Thank you for your hospitality, my friend.” The younger male said as he clasped hands with Elrond. “I cannot express how much your help means to me.”

“I only wish I could do more for you.” The dark haired elf replied, solemnly. “But alas, I cannot leave my people or I would personally accompany you to your destination.”

Bilbo smiled at the taller being and nodded before turning to gather his fauntlings to him. They would have to leave the wagon here. Sadly it wasn't possible to bring it over the mountain pass. Instead he had given each of the boys a small pack with their toys and clothes while he himself had a larger one filled with their food, medicine, and everything else he deemed necessary. Their escorts also had packs of provisions which they would be using.

Less than half an hour later they had left the valley and begun the long climb into the Misty Mountains, Samwise casting a wistful look back on Imladris as Frodo held tightly to his friends hand. The other two followed their caretaker without much fuss, trusting Bilbo to know what was best for them.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

They had been traveling for nearly two weeks when the snow grew too deep for the youngsters to traverse. To Bilbo's relief, the elves they were traveling with each picked up two of the children, carrying them through the drifts so that they wouldn't get frostbite or freeze. Bilbo himself was having a difficult time but he knew the wintery weather would recede once they began the climb down, though that wouldn't be for another couple days at their current pace.

“Bilbo?” Merry called, getting the older hobbit's attention once they had stopped for the night.

They had found shelter in a small cave that had been deemed safe from both goblins and bandits. Yet even so they couldn't be certain that nothing unsavory was lurking about so their traveling companions had volunteered to stand guard outside the entrance.

“What is it, lad?” He asked, squinting in the dim light of the dying fire. “Are you cold? Hungry? I'll be getting some food ready shortly.”

“No, It's not me. Pippin isn't feeling well.” He revealed, casting a worried glance to were the younger boy lay shivering near Sam and Frodo. “I think he's got a fever.”

The ring-bearer let out a sharp gasp as a memory of his time in the Shire came to mind. It had been about six months after he'd first taken in his nephew and the boy had wanted his friends to come over and play. Bilbo had swiftly arranged a play date so that all four of the faunts could get together only to be contacted the day of by Peregrin's mother. She had explained that her son wouldn't be able to attend because he had fallen ill the night before. That day he had learned from the hobbit lass that the young Took had been prone to fevers ever since he'd gotten sick as a babe. Thinking back now, the elder Baggins couldn't believe he'd forgotten such an important fact and quickly made his way over to the sickly child.

Placing his hand on the lad's forehead, the halfling was unsurprised to find a high fever had taken hold. As the small eight year old let out a pitiful whimper, Bilbo gathered him in his arms, rocking him against his chest as he moved closer to their campfire.

“Hush now, Pippin.” He soothed, gently stroking a hand through the youngster's sweaty, brown curls. “We'll have you better in no time.”

Looking around for his discarded pack the older hobbit carefully laid the sick faunt on the ground, making sure he was comfortably wrapped in his blanket. Within moments Bilbo had spotted the bag and had moved over to grab a small pot, his water skin, and the package of herbs Oin had sent him. Placing some water in the pot, the former burglar placed it near the fire and waited for it to boil. As he did so he heard a small cough coming from behind him and turned expecting to see it coming from Pippin, only for his heart to sink in dread. Merry was sitting beside his best friend, trying to comfort the younger boy as he fought to keep the painful sounding coughs from escaping.

“Meriadoc, I want you to gather your blanket and lay down next to Pippin.” Their caretaker stated in a serious voice, allowing no room for arguments.

Soon the other boy was snuggled up near the fire as Bilbo went to check on Frodo and Sam who were watching the events unfold from nearby. He sighed worriedly as he found that Sam was running a low grade fever and his nephew was beginning to develop a sore throat. If things continued as they were then they would have to stay here several days at the very least. The trouble was that since they were up in the middle of a mountain range there was very little fuel for the fire and the boys would need to be kept warm. Determination filled his heart as he nodded to himself. Rising to his feet, the fifty two year old quickly made his way to the mouth of the cave where Lord Elrond's elves were keeping watch.

“Umm, excuse me?” He asked, gaining their attention before continuing. “The boys seem to be getting sick due to the weather and I fear we will need to remain here for the time being.”

The two other beings shared a look before one spoke in a low voice.

“There are no herbs nearby to make healing remedies and we only packed enough for a few doses at most.” The elf, a blonde male, said worriedly as his female companion began to speak.

“We also don't have enough fire wood.” The brunette added. “Are you sure it won't be possible to move down the mountain? There's a small wooded glen about two days walk down the eastern slope that would provided better shelter and plenty of resources.”

Bilbo glanced back inside, watching as Pippin's trembling form snuggled closer to his best friend's side before shaking his head. He refused to take that risk.

“No, it's best to remain here. I have a package of medicine that a friend of mine had given me, it should be enough to get them through the worst of it. Moving them would be too perilous... Pippin has a weakened immune system and I fear that if we were to leave now he wouldn't make it to the glen you have spoken of.”

“Then we'll go find some wood for you.” The male elf said solemnly, reaching into his pack to draw out a small bundle of herbs. “You should take this in case your medicine runs out or proves ineffective. We should return within a day, two at the latest.”

“Thank you.” Bilbo acknowledged, gratitude showing on his face as he accepted the small parcel.

“Will you be alright on your own?” The woman spoke up once more, a concerned frown on her face. “Goblins roam these mountains at night and we won't be here to protect you.”

'I know about the goblins all too well.' Bilbo thought dryly as he remembered the fall into Goblin Town.

Out loud all he said was. “Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep a look out. I've actually grown quite skilled at using my little letter opener.”

He smiled as his words managed to draw a small chuckle from his companions and with that, the elves took their leave. The adult hobbit kept watch until they were out of sight before returning inside. He found all four of his boys cuddling together for warmth as the fire dwindled. There was still a pretty good sized pile of wood left that, if used sparingly, should last until the elves returned. So, taking a couple of the small logs, the ring-bearer placed them on the fire before moving to wrap his own blankets around the shivering fauntlings. He then made his way over to the pot of water, relieved to find that it was time to mix in the herbs. Placing a small handful of the medicine into the hot water, Bilbo swirled it around and waited for it to steep. Once it was cool enough he carefully divided it out amongst the lads, chuckling at the faces they made when they drank it. To be honest he was quite surprised that none of them had complained or refused to take the mixture.

With a smile on his face, the elder Baggins moved over to a rock near the entrance of the cave, sitting on it so as to keep watch of the boys as well as anything that may move outside their makeshift shelter.

“How about I continue the story while you all rest?” He asked, concern filling his heart even as the children's excited cries rang into the air... albeit more subdued than usual. “All right then...”

They had made it. Erebor was before them, standing tall and proud, even as a dragon slept within. All that was left was to find the keyhole before the last light of Durin's day and their quest would be at a close. Bilbo sat looking up at the lonely mountain, his nerves on edge as he wondered if he'd live to see the morrow. If Smaug was alive that outcome was highly unlikely and yet... he couldn't help but hope for a better future. One where he and his new-found family were able to live peacefully in their reclaimed home, free of the hardships that had plagued them for so long. It was a fools hope, he knew that, but it was all he had.

Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to jump as quiet laughter filled the air. Glancing up he found Thorin trying to muffle the noise and frowned, eyes narrowed in aggravation.

“Yes, well, this is all very funny until I end up being eaten by a dragon for you.” He pouted, turning away from the now somber dwarf.

Ever since that day at the Carrock the bond between them had grown deeper and deeper with each passing day until it began to resemble something akin to love. Bilbo knew his feelings for the stubborn dwarf ran deeper than mere friendship and he suspected that Thorin may feel the same... but neither would say the words aloud. Choosing instead to remain silent and leave things as they were.

“Bilbo, you know I would do anything to spare you from such a fate if possible.” The king in exile spoke softly, gently cupping the hobbit's chin in order to make him meet his eyes. “But the truth of the matter is that you are the only one that can sneak into the dragon's den. Smaug will not recognize your scent and I pray to Mahal it will be enough to spare you from the wyrm's wrath. I know this is not easy for you but I swear, if you find yourself in danger all you need do is call out for me and I will be at your side in an instant.”

The slightly taller being pulled the ring-bearer close, holding him against his chest in a comforting embrace and Bilbo found himself melting into the other male's arms. All too soon the dwarf pulled away and moved back to where to others sat around their small campfire, leaving the stunned burglar to his thoughts. The only thing he was certain of was that, no matter the cost, he wouldn't call for Thorin. Even if the dragon's fire was licking at his heels, if his flesh began to melt off his bones, he wouldn't risk putting his love in harms way.

Later that night Bilbo watched, his heart breaking at the sight of Thorin's forlorn expression, as no key hole appeared. Not able to watch his dwarf's sorrow any longer the halfling had returned to the door, searching in vain for anything they could have missed. When his examination came up empty Bilbo plopped down on a nearby rock, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he buried his face in his hands and pleaded to the Valar.

“Please let our quest not have been in vain.” He spoke softly, voice barely more that a whisper. “Now, I know I wasn't happy about being forced to face a bloody dragon but I'll do it anyway if it will ensure Thorin's happiness. I don't have a family to return to in the Shire, at least not one as dear to me as these dwarves have become. All I want is for them to live peacefully, they've suffered so much over the years! So please, please let us find a way in and I'll do my part to the best of my abilities... even if that means I won't live to see them returned home.”

Just as the hobbit opened his eyes he heard a sound and glanced up, only to find a keyhole illuminated in the darkness. Letting out a sharp gasp, Bilbo jumped to his feet and took off down the trail calling for Thorin.

“You've already heard about me facing Smaug so I'll just skip that part and get to the end, shall I?” The elder hobbit said, glancing at the four fauntlings with a warm smile.

They were all listening in awe and it appeared that the herbal tea had helped significantly. He'd have to remember to thank Oin once they reached the mountain. Thinking back to the story he was telling Bilbo knew he wouldn't have the heart to tell them the truth of what had come after his fateful encounter with Smaug. They were too young to hear the grisly details of Thorin's sickness and the battle that followed.

“Well, we managed to reclaim the treasure, you see, and were in the midst or celebrating when who should show up but Bard (who had been proclaimed King of Dale) and Thranduil. Lake town had taken the brunt of the dragon's rage and the bowman had come in hopes of gaining help for his people. Thorin, being the just and noble dwarf that he is, immediately offered aid to the good people of Lake Town, promising to help rebuild Dale and providing shelter and food to any in need. The elven king, however, had come seeking something that had been in the mountain when the dragon came. To be fair, the item he sought was rightfully his but it was rather rude when he demanded that King Thorin find it immediately. Unbeknownst to him the dwarves had already located the elf’s property and set it aside for him to claim but because of how ill-mannered he was Thorin decided to make him wait it out while we focused on helping the men folk. I stayed to help for as long as possible but was forced to leave before I would have liked in order to make it back to the Shire before the winter could close off the pass. The dwarves and I have been exchanging letters ever since.”

As Bilbo finished he discreetly studied the boys, breathing in a breath of relief when he noticed that none of the faunts looked suspicious. It hadn't been a lie, no, he'd just bent the truth a bit to make the end more child friendly. If any of the four ever found out about certain events that had transpired he was sure there'd be loads of trouble in store for the ones they decided were to blame. To that end Bilbo worried for Thorin's safety should his boys ever discover the truth.

Chapter Text

Two years. Two years and he'd barely even spoken to the hobbit he'd fallen so desperately in love with... but it was his own fault. He'd let his mind be clouded by gold lust, let his madness guide his actions, and it had nearly cost him all that he held dear. No, he couldn't blame Bilbo for returning to the Shire. His One would have peace there amongst the flowers and hills, away from any reminder of what he'd done... what he'd ruined. Yet even after all this time his heart still yearned to have his precious ghivashel back in his arms.

Thorin had learned of what Bilbo had been up to these last years through the other members of his company. It had warmed his heart to know that his hobbit hadn't found a new love but at the same time it made his regrets all the worse. He didn't want him to remain alone and was glad when the news came that he had a nephew of his own living with him and a group of other young that frequently visited. The king admitted that he may be a bit jealous over the thought that these boys would have Bilbo all to themselves when he, himself, wasn't able to. But that thought was quickly extinguished as memories of why his One wasn't at his side washed over him.

Many crumpled letters littered his study... all of them addressed to the same person, all of them never sent. The King under the Mountain had tried so many times to find the words he wanted to say. He'd thought of whole speeches that he would declare in front of his halfling, promised anything the other could ever desire, but once it came time to put his thoughts on paper Thorin found his mind was utterly blank. So instead he had written one short, formal missive offering to let the hobbit return if he so felt like it. Even he could tell that it served more to push the other away rather than offer the comfort he had meant to portray. No matter how much he wished otherwise the king couldn't seem to write what needed to be written, he just wasn't good at getting his feelings across if the person he was addressing wasn't in the same room.

Now, as he sat in council, he would give anything just to have Bilbo here with him. To have his smile light up the room, his warm eyes dancing with mirth, he'd even be willing to sit through the tangents the smaller male was so prone to going off on.

'I wonder... Did you ever plant that little acorn of yours?' He thought to himself, completely ignoring the visiting dignitaries. 'I was such a fool to think that you would do what you did out of malicious intent. Bilbo, your actions that day saved us all and I wish you were here so I could finally tell you how sorry I am for doubting you... though I know I can never make up for what I've done.'

Just then the doors to the council room slammed open and his nephews rushed in, quickly followed by the half of the company not currently in attendance. Knowing that it would take something important for any of his friends to intrude upon a meeting such as this, much less most of them, he quickly locked eyes with Balin and stood.

“I am sorry,” The adviser spoke up as he rose to his feet alongside his king. “I know that I for one was completely engrossed in hearing about the celebration you plan on holding for your daughter's wedding but we will have to adjourn this meeting for the time being. King Thorin has some urgent business he must attend to. We thank you for your understanding.”

“But, we haven't finished establishing the new trade agree...” The outsider was cut off as Dis placed a calm hand on his shoulder.

No one had even noticed she'd moved and it made the man jump several feet into the air as onlookers tried in vain to hide their snickers.

“Why don't I show you around the mountain?” She suggested, knowing that there was no way for the official to refuse such an invitation as it had been offered by the princess herself.

Once the Lady Dis had managed to herd the visiting dignitaries from the room Thorin turned his attention to his two very excited nephews.

“What has gotten into the both of you?” He asked promptly, worry gnawing at his heart. “What has happened?”

“We just got a letter from Bilbo!” Kili shouted excitedly, waving the sealed piece of parchment in the air so everyone could see.

“It's addressed to you, uncle!” Fili finished slightly calmer before taking the paper from his little brother and placing it on the table before the king.

Thorin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even after all this time the hobbit had not deigned to write him, choosing instead to acquire about him through their friends. It was too good to be true and he wouldn't trust it until he could examine the letter for himself.

“Quiet!” He called, drawing the attention of the company who had broken out into enthusiastic conversation upon hearing the news. “I would like you to remain silent so that I can figure out what this is about.”

As a hush fell around the room, the formerly exiled king took the paper in his shaking hands and broke the seal...

'Dear Thorin,

It's been a long time.'

He smiled, this was definitely his hobbit's handwriting. This letter truly was addressed to him, and him alone. Knowing that made it all the more precious in his eyes and he eagerly continued reading.

'I truly hope you are well. I have heard from the others that you have become a worthy king and I am so proud of everything you have accomplished in the time I've been away.'

Pride filled his heart at their lucky number's kind words and made it feel as if the last two years had genuinely been worthwhile. That feeling of accomplishment didn't last long however, for what he read next caused his pulse to quicken with dread and he narrowed his eyes... anger coursing through him at the injustice of the world.

'However I am not writing this out of a desire to hear of your exploits, I am afraid, but out of necessity. Orcs have invaded the Shire. My home is lost to me just as yours once was. As of now I am on the run from those vile creatures, doing my best to protect the young ones in my care. I'm sure you've heard of them from our friends. My nephew Frodo, his cousins Merry and Pippin, as well as his best friend Sam. They are all here with me, safe, and so far I have managed to protect them.'

“Bilbo...” He gasped out, unable to say more as his eyes continued to peruse the page. Off to the side, Balin had managed to catch the hushed word and stealthily inched closer until he was able to read the letter over his friend's shoulder. Biting back a gasp of his own the older dwarf waited to see how his king would react to the rest of the letter.

'I have been on my own in this endeavor, with only a little help from the elves of Rivendell and a ranger who has offered to bring aid to any that managed to survive the initial attack... I have no idea where that meddling wizard is (I haven't seen him since he accompanied me home from the quest). Lord Elrond has been most welcoming, seeing to all our needs and making sure we are well taken care of, he has offered us shelter for as long as we desire... but I cannot stay here.'

Thorin couldn't make sense of the words he'd just read. Why? Why couldn't Bilbo stay at Rivendell where he'd be safe? No matter how much he despised elves he knew that the Lord of Imladris would protect his One and offer much needed sanctuary. What could be going on in his hobbit's mind to refuse that safety? It wasn't until he read the next few lines that he understood.

'After everything that's happened in recent days I need my family. I need to come home. I know you may not have forgiven me for all that I have done but please, I have nowhere else to go. You and the company are the only ones I would trust to watch over my boys if anything were to happen to me. I have many things I would like to tell you, many regrets to bring into the light, but I don't feel comfortable voicing them in a letter. Some things are just meant to be spoken in person.'

The King under the Mountain agreed, there was a lot they had to talk about... most of it his doing. He'd apologized to Bilbo when he'd thought he'd been on his deathbed and the hobbit had easily forgiven him but he wanted to prove himself. He wanted to show the younger male that he would never again do the things he'd done while in the thralls of gold sickness, though he doubted things would ever be the same between them. Yet there was one thing the halfling couldn't be more wrong about... Thorin had forgiven him long ago.

'So I say again, please let me come home... my heart will not rest easy until I'm with you again.'

That line, that single line caused doubt to cloud his mind. Moments before, the company leader had been absolutely certain that he would never get the other back... not in the way he wanted at least. But now? Now he was questioning everything he'd thought was fact. Swallowing those feelings for now, the dwarven king finished reading what the other had written.

'If you can't do this for me then do it for the welfare of the children I travel with. They need somewhere safe where they can grow without fear. I promise Thorin, I will tell you everything when we meet again, but for now I must rest... we have a long journey ahead of us. By the time you receive this letter we will already be back on the road. If my estimate is correct we should reach Erebor's gates by mid fall at the latest. Please don't turn us away.

With warm regards,

Your burglar, Bilbo Baggins

P.S. I've missed you dearly, you stubborn dwarf.'

Thorin felt his eyes tearing up as his heart nearly shattered, though he refused to let anyone see. He couldn't believe the pain he'd caused with his silence! If only he had managed to gather his thoughts, if only he'd managed to send one single letter instead of throwing them all in the trash, then maybe his One wouldn't have been reduced to begging for help from the people he thought of as family. He could have contacted them immediately and received the help he so desperately needed, but no... his hobbit had been frightened of a rejection that would never come and had suffered because of it! Taking deep breaths, his mind barely registered Bilbo's parting words until he'd managed to calm down slightly. Then, a sad smile split his face as he hid his head in his hands, tears falling unseen. There was a mild commotion as the company shifted around him, uneasy as their king broke down in front of them. That is, until a shout echoed through the room and silence fell once more. He could hear someone speaking but his head was pounding so loud that he couldn't make out any words. It took several long minutes before he was able to calm himself enough to hear Balin finishing his explanation of the letter's contents to the rest of the gathered dwarrow. Moments later a kind hand placed itself on his shoulder, causing Thorin to look up into the calm yet sad eyes of his adviser.

“So what are you planning to do now, laddie?” The elder dwarf asked, a keen look on his wisened face.

Twelve pairs of eyes met his as he slowly glanced around the room, the emotion he saw there mirroring his own. Sadness, anger, pain, fear, all warring with the relief they felt at learning their hobbit had so far managed to escape harm. Yet still, the knowledge that this letter must have been written at least several weeks ago did little to assuage their worries. It served only to remind them of what could have happened in the time between. Bilbo would have entered the Misty Mountains, taking the pass they had once traveled together. There was much danger on that route and he prayed that their hobbit's luck would hold.

“Balin,” He spoke at last, resolve befitting his position clear on his face. “I want you to get rooms ready for Bilbo. Take Fili and Kili with you. They can do the heavy lifting and hopefully rid themselves of some of that youthful energy.”

“Yes, my king.” The adviser acknowledged, pleased with how Thorin was handling the matter. “I know just the chambers. Big enough for himself and the young ones as well as having a large balcony that, with a little fixing up, could serve as a nice garden for the lad.”

The leaders eyes widened for a moment as he caught on to what chambers the other was referring to before shining brightly in gratitude as he nodded, watching Balin leave with his nephews in tow.

“But uncle we wanted to go get Bilbo!” Kili whined over his shoulder, a childish pout on his face as he was dragged away by the white haired dwarf.

“We also wanted to see the little hobbits!” Fili joined in, though he had more self control than his brother and slowly followed after the two.

Letting out a sigh as he rubbed a weary hand down his face Thorin turned to the remaining dwarrow.

“Bombur, the room that will be prepared will have a full kitchen.” The king declared, causing the larger dwarfs eyes to light up in excitement. “I would like you to make sure everything is in working order and that, once we return, it is stocked with anything Bilbo could possibly desire. We've all seen his pantry back in the Shire so I trust that you'll be able to manage.”

“I'll gather the best ingredients I can find as well as make sure to purchase top of the line cookware.” The red haired dwarf proclaimed, happy to do something that would be of help to their friend.

Turning to the oldest members of the Ur and Ri households he let a soft smile grace his features.

“There's no doubt that most of their belongings had to be left behind. I would like the two of you to craft toys and clothing that could be put to use upon their arrival at the mountain.”

He received an affirmative gesture from the axe headed dwarf and turned his full attention on the teashop owner.

“I can make clothes for Bilbo since he's only slightly smaller than my youngest brother, mind they may be a bit big, but I haven't seen the children. I don't know how big hobbit young are so it will be difficult to determine what size to make. All I really have to go on is that they will be very small.”

Thorin frowned, that was a problem. Just them a smallish hand shot into the air and he chuckled when he noticed Ori nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was rare for the young dwarf to show his enthusiasm in such a manner. It is usually reserved for when he learned new knowledge or found an ancient text. Waving his hand in signal for the lad to speak, the former king in exile felt a new found respect bloom in his chest for the youngest Ri brother.

“I remember seeing hobbit babes when we passed through the Shire.” He revealed, a blush creeping onto his cheeks when he realized everyone was watching him but he continued on confidently... he was not the same dwarf that began the journey all those years ago. “You must all have been too busy watching for danger or trying not to get lost but I spent most of my time studying the hobbits we passed by. I even drew a few pictures! I'm sure I could help my brother. I've also found many books that I think Bilbo would enjoy and was wondering if I could have permission to organize a bookcase for him in his rooms?”

“I think that is a wonderful idea Ori, Bilbo is sure to enjoy it. You can get that started after you help Dori figure out a size estimate for the little ones.” Thorin proclaimed, though his face turned serious moments later. “The rest of you will come with me. We will ride out to meet up with our burglar. The least we can do is offer safe escort and show that he, and the children he travels with, are more than welcome in our halls.”

He paused a pensive look overtaking his face for a moment before continuing.

“I will leave Dis is charge and if we are lucky everything will go smoothly and we'll be back before the end of fall. However, if our luck doesn't hold then I'll be relying on each of you to help me protect the hobbits.” He let that sink in for a moment before raising a fist in the air and shouting. “It's time to bring our burglar home!”

A rallying cry went up through the surrounding dwarrow. It warmed his heart and he could tell that each member of the company was happy at the thought of Bilbo finally being home where he belonged... Thorin just hoped nothing went wrong before they found him.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

“Thank you for accompanying us this far.” The ring-bearer said as their elven guides turned away. “I'm not sure we would have made it over the mountains if it weren't for you, especially with how sick Peregrin became.”

It was a month and a half after leaving Rivendell and, through all adversity, they were now standing at the base of the Carrock. The boys still had a minor case of the snuffles and poor Pippin was battling a bad cough but other than that they were fine. He knew that Beorn would offer them a safe place to heal up the rest of the way and that helped ease his worried mind. There had been a couple of close calls in the days that the elves had been gone searching for firewood. Not of enemies, no, but of sickness. He shuddered to think of those days. His youngest wrapped in several blankets near the fire yet still not getting enough warmth. The whimpers the boy released when he held him close to his chest, listening in fear to the boys raspy breathing. Bilbo had come so close to losing one of his precious children and he never wanted to feel that frightened and helpless again! But now they were all on the mend. It mattered little that he had used up most of his herbs to help them, he didn't mind that he, himself, had recently developed a rattling cough which he did his best to hide from those around him. No, all that mattered was that his boys were getting stronger with each passing day and they would hopefully reach Erebor within the next couple of months.

“Are you certain that you can find your way from here?” The female elf asked, arching a delicate eyebrow at him.

“Yes, yes, I'm positive.” He replied, tuning back in to the conversation. “It's not far now.”

“Then we will leave you here.” The blonde male added as he gathered his pack. “We are expected in Lothlorien by the end of the week.”

“Very well, farewell my friends, and thank you once again for the help you've given us.” The hobbit expressed, tilting his head in gratitude.

Gaining a nod in return, he watched as the duo faded into the tree line and vanished from sight before turning to Frodo and the others.

“How about we have a small meal and then make our way to the skin changer's home?” He asked, knowing the excitement he would cause.

“You mean we're finally gonna meet Beorn?” Meriadoc shouted loudly, enthused at the chance of meeting the person he'd heard so much about in stories.

“Yes, that is exactly right.” He replied, watching as each of the four's faces brightened at that. “Now if you'll all have a seat I'll get your food.”

Chuckling under his breath as each of the fauntlings sat heavily were they were Bilbo moved over to his pack, a coughing fit taking hold as he reached it. He did his best to stifle the sound and shaking of his shoulders, it wouldn't do for the boys to see that he was becoming ill. It only lasted a short time and once the hobbit had gotten his breath back he glanced around, relieved to find that his nephew and Sam were busy talking together in hushed whispers while Merry and Pippin were playing a word game. None of them seemed to have noticed his little lapse.

'I need to be more careful, I don't want to worry the boys needlessly. I'll sneak some of the medicinal tea when I get it ready for them later.' He thought to himself as he opened his pack, sighing at the small amount of food that remained. 'Oh well, I can skip a meal or two... goodness knows I skipped more than that on the first journey.'

Taking the contents of the bag, he laid it out before him. There were two small chunks of cheese, a loaf of lembas bread, and a small container of cured meat. Not much for four growing faunts but it would have to do, after all, they were only half a days walk from Beorns. Bilbo was certain that the bear-man wouldn't be adverse to supplying them with the things they'd need for the remainder of their journey.

“Here we are, lads.” The elder male declared as he moved over to the waiting group. “You can each have a sandwich.”

Bilbo raised a hand, effectively silencing the complaints he could hear coming before speaking again. “Now I now it isn't much but it's all we have for the moment so could you please be good and not whine for me?”

Each of the hobbit children closed their mouths, they didn't want to upset their caretaker. Instead, they ate their food in silence... happily munching as the elder Baggins snuck away to prepare the medicine. Making absolutely certain that the boys were focused entirely on their food bilbo took a large sip of the tea, grimacing at the foul taste that filled his mouth. He them divided the rest between the four small cups he had set out and placed it before the lads for whenever they were ready for it. Once finished, the small group packed up their bags and began the short walk to the skin changer's house.

It was nearly nightfall by the time they reached the gate to Beorn's gardens and the fauntlings had been complaining of their sore feet for the past hour or so. To say that he was glad their destination was in sight wouldn't even begin to describe the relief Bilbo was feeling. His head was pounding and all he wanted was to lie down in a dark room until it stopped. That being said, he would never abandon Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin to fend for themselves... even in the home of a dear friend such as Beorn. If that meant he had to continue on feeling as if his head were about to split in two then so be it.

Suddenly a sound arose from the nearby bushes causing the gathered faunts to freeze in fright. Their caretaker tensed, warily drawing Sting from it's sheath as a large creature parted the undergrowth and stalked towards them. Relief coursed through his body, then, as their intended host made himself known and the halfling swiftly returned his sword to it's place at his side.

“What is the little bunny doing back in these parts?” the large man asked, cocking his head to one side when he noticed the children gathered before him. “And with baby bunnies no less.”

Wearily rubbing a hand through his dirt riddled hair Bilbo smiled up at the larger being, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“That's a long story I'm afraid.” The former burglar disclosed. “I was wondering if we could seek shelter with you for a few days. I promise I'll tell you why we're here after I see the little ones off to bed.”

“Of course, of course, my friend.” The shape-shifter announced, waving the hobbits through towards the house. “You are welcome here whenever you have need. Come little bunnies, let's get you a nice supper of bread and honey before you go off to bed.”

As the boys rushed into the warm home Bilbo stayed back, his smile a little more genuine as he once more addressed the larger male.

“Thank you, Beorn.” He said, a small cough escaping him which he swiftly covered up as he noticed their host frown in concern. “I can't express how much your hospitality means to us. I wish there was something I could do to repay you.”

“Nonsense!” The bear-like being exclaimed, clapping a giant hand on Bilbo's small shoulder. “All I wish is to hear the story of why you and four tiny hobbit babes are so far from your home. Now head inside and my animals will show you to the room you'll be using during your stay.”

Not allowing time for arguments Beorn gently shoved the hobbit in the direction of the door, the frown appearing once more as he noticed the younger male stumble slightly. It wouldn't do to let his guest continue on while ill. With a quick jerk of his head the bear man made up his mind. For the duration of the time the bunnies remained in his home he would make sure the food was extra nutritious and would be sure to sneak some of his special medicine into the older hobbits portion. Hopefully by the time the small group decided to leave Bilbo would be fully recovered from whatever was ailing him.

Chapter Text

Bilbo wasn't dense, he knew Beorn had immediately noticed that he was feeling under the weather and he was eternally grateful for the bear man's silence. His friend never said a word to him but the hobbit could taste the subtle flavor of medicinal herbs in his food. Honestly, it brought a smile to his face knowing that there was someone who would care for him while he was busy caring for his boys. It was nice, that's all there was to it.

“Bilbo, help us!” He heard a cry and glanced up just in time to catch the two fauntlings who had thrown themselves into his arms. “He's gonna find us!”

Turning his head from side to side the ring-bearer searched for any sign of danger, letting out a chuckle as their host came strolling around a patch of roses.

“Now where did the baby bunnies get to.” He rumbled in his deep voice, winking at Bilbo as Merry and Pippin shifted so they were hidden behind their caretaker. “The other little ones seem to have escaped me but the tickle monster will find these two.”

It was amazing how silently the large man could move given his size and within moments he had looped around the back of them so that he was standing directly behind the excited children. The elder hobbit tried to suppress his chuckles as Beorn's voice rang out, causing the faunts to jump in surprise.

“Hello there, little bunnies.” The taller being said as he scooped the wriggling children into his strong arms and began tickling them mercilessly. “So this is where you've been hiding.”

“Hahaha, let us go, let us go.” Meriadoc laughed, struggling to get away from his captor.

“Put us down. Hehe, we need to find Frodo and Sam.” Peregrin added, kicking his small feet.

Bilbo was happy to see the boys so active after the last weeks. He had been greatly concerned when they had been sick and it had caused many a sleepless night. Now though they seemed to be completely healed. The halfling's ears twitched as he heard a soft sound come from around the corner of the garden fence and he narrowed his eyes, searching for what had caused the noise. He smiled as he saw his other two children peeking out from behind the gate, watching in amusement as their friends struggled in the giant's gentle grasp.

“Don't you think it would be kind of you to help Pippin and Merry instead of just watching?” He called out, causing everyone's attention to shift to the other two faunts.

With a squeak, the friends ducked back under cover and Bilbo let out a laugh as Beorn carefully placed his new found allies on his shoulders before taking off after the other scamps. It was such a calming sight to see after what they'd been through and yet, the former burglar couldn't help the melancholy feeling that suddenly swept over him.

'I wonder what's become of the Shire?' He thought to himself as he sat down on the steps of the house and pulled out his map, staring at the home he'd once thought he'd never leave. 'I hope for the boys' sake that their families survived. I don't want to see their spirits crushed if I'm forced to tell them otherwise.'

Shuddering at the thought, the older hobbit turned his attention to Erebor. The Lonely Mountain still seemed such a long way away and Bilbo's heart ached for the companionship of the ones he'd been forced to leave behind when he'd returned to the Shire.

'Thorin would have gotten my letter by now.' He realized, eyes glazed as he thought of his stubborn dwarf. 'I wonder what was going through his head as he read it. Was he worried? Angry? Or was he glad that a traitor such a me was getting what he deserved. Am I even worthy of his help after everything I've done? Yes, I thought it was the right thing to do at the time but... that doesn't change the fact that I willingly betrayed the one I loved. How could I ever make amends for that?'

Placing his head in his hands Bilbo let out a quiet sob. He'd never forgiven himself for breaking Thorin's heart and this journey he was on only served to bring each and every one of his doubts to the surface. Before Frodo had come to stay with him, the ring-bearer had rarely left Bag End. He'd become a recluse. Choosing to hide away from the world rather than risk being hurt, or hurting someone he cared for, again. But that had all changed once he'd met the boys. They were so bright, so good. How could he hide in the dark while they shined like the sun? The answer was simple... he couldn't. They had managed to save him from the depression he'd fallen into. It's true he had lost one family, but by the grace of Yavanna he had found another.

'But will my old family accept the new?' He asked himself, self doubt once more creeping into his mind only to be pushed away moments later as a breathless laugh escaped him. 'Of course they will you silly, old hobbit. Every member of the company absolutely adore children... even Thorin. At least, if nothing else, Frodo and the others will be safe.'

He knew he shouldn't be dwelling on this but he found that hard. Here they were safe, there was no danger to be had and that meant Bilbo's mind tended to wander. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing however, it just went to prove how safe and at ease he felt in the skin changer’s garden. It was okay to let down his guard and rest. Feeling his eyes slowly slipping closed the hobbit's thoughts once more turned to his dwarves in their halls of stone.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

The preparations were complete, the ponies were saddled, and Thorin was waiting impatiently for Dis to finish lecturing him about what he should do once they finally located Bilbo. This had to be the eighth time his sister had repeated this and by now he had the whole speech memorized.

The dwarven woman was elated at the prospect of actually meeting the being who had saved her remaining family from doom and was determined not to allow her foolish brother to mess it up. That being said there was only so much she could do. After all, she couldn't go with to rescue the hobbit... someone had to stay and look after their subjects.

“Now you'd best be on your way.” She said at last casting a stern glare at the gathered dwarrow, her expression lightened a bit as her brother let out a nearly imperceptible sigh, and she continued so that only he could hear. “Bring him home. Maybe then you can stop all your moping.”

“Dwarven kings do not mope!” Thorin hissed loudly in retaliation, a stunning blush forming under his beard.

“Keep telling yourself that, brother dearest.” She whispered in his ear as she leaned in to give him a parting hug.

The dwarf huffed in agitation as he wrapped his baby sister in a tight embrace. There was no denying how well she knew him so instead of wasting more time arguing he managed to hold his tongue. Within minutes he and the others that had been chosen to accompany him where saddled and on their way out of the gates. It would take several weeks to reach the edge of Mirkwood where they would await their burglar. They dared not venture into the forest for, even with the settlements that had been made between the two races, tensions were still high.

“What do you think the little one's will be like?” Bofur asked as they rode from the mountain, eyes shining with a mix of curiosity and excitement. “Do you think Bilbo would be upset if we spoil 'em too much?”

“If they're anything like my wee lad, Gimli, then they'll be a right handful.” Gloin expressed, face lit up in mirth as he thought of his son.

“It depends.” His older brother cut in, a serious tone in his voice. “If their journey was difficult it may take some time for them, as well as Bilbo, to recover their strength. We all know how tough the journey was on us and we were use to the hardships. Our burglar was ill prepared even back then and now he has four children to care for and protect.”

“He's a tough little thing. He'll be fine.” Dwalin grunted from his place at his king's side though his brow was creased in either worry or apprehension, the others couldn't tell which.

“Aye, that's true, but who knows what Bilbo could run into before we find him.” Nori voiced, eyes shifting as he searched for any sign of danger.

Bofur's shoulders sagged, he hadn't planned on the conversation taking such a dark turn but he couldn't deny that he was worried as well. Knowing Bilbo as well as he did, the hatted dwarf had an inkling of what could happen and it made his heart clench in his chest as he voiced his concerns aloud.

“Bilbo's always been the type to sacrifice his own well being for others.” He said, gazing around at his gathered friends before continuing. “Remember the trolls? He could have gotten killed trying to buy us time. He faced the pale orc alone in order to protect Thorin and even fought the spiders when we were too weak to defend ourselves.”

Here Bofur paused, eyes sad, as his next words were spoken in a near whisper. “Bilbo was so weak and thin when he freed us from the dungeons of Mirkwood that I nearly expected him to keel over then and there... we still have no idea what he went through in that place.”

Thorin had remained silent up to that point but here his eyes darkened, he knew all too well what had occurred during those days. Maybe it was time to reveal what their hobbit had nearly forfeited in order to free them. Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat, drawing the gathered dwarrow's attention to him.

“I am loath to think of what hardships our burglar was put through in that accursed place.” He said, feeling the eyes of his friends lock onto him as they realized he knew at least some of what had happened. “Bilbo came to my cell a few weeks after we'd first been imprisoned. It was during the time that he was passing messages between us but I could tell something was clearly wrong even with him wearing the ring. He practically collapsed against the bars of my cell. Thankfully I was able to catch him before he fell to the hard floor.”

The King glanced around, noting how his friend's eyes darkened as they listened in silence.

“Upon taking the ring off his finger I was appalled to find that Bilbo was naught but a wraith of what he'd been at the start of the quest. He was clearly starving and hadn't slept for many days and I bade him to sneak inside my cell when the elves delivered food so that he could rest and eat. It was a close call, he had barely any strength left and collapsed soon after he'd made it past the guards. We were lucky that he was not discovered then and there.”

He paused, letting the news sink in as he steadied himself. He hated to remember those days. He was reluctant to think what could have happened if he hadn't noticed the halfling's condition.

“Bilbo nearly lost his life in order to save ours... ” Thorin finished morosely, voice nothing but a whisper in the still air.

'And that wasn't the last time.' He thought to himself as the gathered company broke off into whispered conversation around him.

After hearing what had happened the collected dwarves were more determined than ever to find their burglar and bring him home.

Meanwhile, Thorin rode on in silence... thinking of Bilbo and the dangers that he may face before they could be reunited. It was true that his hobbit was strong but anyone could falter, especially when faced with defending their young. If a pack of orcs happened upon the hobbits he knew without a doubt that his One wouldn't hesitate to give his life protecting the children that were so dear to his heart... and that thought terrified him above any other. Spurring his pony onward, he increased the pace slightly. The sooner they reached the campsite the sooner he would be reunited with Bilbo and be able to keep him safe.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

Thanking Beorn for his hospitality the elder Baggins gathered the fauntlings to him, ignoring the complaints he was receiving. He knew that if they didn't leave soon then it would mean risking getting caught in the valley if an early winter happened to hit. He refused to take that chance. They'd already stayed an extra two days and yes, it had helped them, but he desperately wanted to reach Erebor as soon as possible. He didn't think he'd truly feel safe until he was back in those stone halls.

“Are you certain you can't stay longer, little bunny?” The bear man asked, eyes furrowed as he held out the full pack he had prepared. “You still look a little pale and I'd rather you wait until you've regained a little more of your strength before venturing into the unknown.”

He'll admit, his friend had a point. Although he was no longer running a fever his head still felt a bit clouded and the cough continued to persist no matter how much of the medicinal tea he drank. But even so, he'd rather head out now. The halfling had been sure to procure more herbs and he could easily treat himself on the road as they continued their journey. He knew that, had the boys still showed any sign of illness, he wouldn't have hesitated in remaining here for as long as was needed for them to heal. But seeing as it was just him he was certain that no harm would come of it.

“We'll be fine, don't worry.” He declared, trying to reassure the larger male. “I doubt we'll have much trouble and I'll be sure to keep an eye out just in case.”

“Then I wish you luck.” The skin changer said, concern still clearly visible upon his face. “I would offer you ponies but they will not venture that far so the most I can do is give you these supplies.”

Bilbo hefted the pack onto his shoulders and smiled. Their host had made sure that they would have enough food to reach their destination and had also offered some advice about the path they planned to take. It was a great relief to know that there would be plenty of rest areas that were relatively safe for them to use along the way.

“You have done more than enough, my large friend.” The ring-bearer spoke, voice soft as his eyes filled with tenderness.

Leaning in, he wrapped his arms around the taller being, well, as much as he could given the other's girth. Soon he felt four smaller sets join his and chuckled as his boys happily contributed to the group hug. When they finally pulled away he could have sworn he saw tears glistening in Beorn's eyes but it could have been a trick of the light.

“Take care of yourself.” The larger male declared, placing a steady hand on the smaller being's shoulder. “That's the first step towards taking care of these youngsters.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” He said with a nod, turning to lead his charges down the path.

He could feel Beorn's gaze follow them until they were out of sight.

Their luck gave out three weeks after leaving the safety of the shapeshifter's home. Their small group was camping in a rocky alcove near the start of the gray mountains when the first howl rang through the early fall air. Immediately Bilbo doused the fire and did his best to disperse the smoke while bidding the boys to hide under the shadowy outcropping where there was a crack in the wall just big enough for the four of them to fit inside. Then, with Sting in hand, the hobbit ventured out in order to get a better vantage point. He needed information. How far away was the enemy? Were there orcs along with the wargs? Most likely. What direction were they coming from and at what speed? Once he learned these things he would be able to formulate a strategy.

'Come on... where are you?' He asked himself, cautiously scanning the horizon between the mountains and the edge of Mirkwood.

Just then another howl rang out and the halfling whipped his head around. There! A large group of orc riders just coming into view on the lower slopes of the Misty Mountains. Bilbo had no idea if these were the same creatures who attacked the Shire or not but he didn't want to take the risk of getting caught. He knew that it would mean certain death either way.

At the pace they seemed to be traveling, it would only take the enemy half a day to reach their current location and the ring-bearer knew that he had to get the fauntlings to safety. Erebor was still nearly a month away but perhaps he could find a small settlement somewhere along the route. Even as the hobbit thought that he knew it was very unlikely. He'd never seen a town in this area on any of the maps he'd studied... but he wouldn't give up hope.

Scrambling down from his watch post, the small man made his way over to the children's hiding place. Stifling a cough, he beckoned them out while making short work of repacking their supplies.

“What's going on, uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked, uneasily reaching out to take Sam's hand, needing the comfort of his friend's presence.

“Are we going somewhere?” The other child asked, allowing Bilbo's nephew to cling to him. “But it's getting dark.”

“I know it is and I'm sorry, lads, you all must be tired... but we need to leave.” He said, casting an apprehensive look over his shoulder to where he'd spotted the enemy. “This place is no longer safe. We'll have to be very careful from now on so please try and be quiet, do exactly as I say, and don't wander off. Do you understand?”

The boys, seeming to hear the urgency in the older hobbit's voice, rushed to pick up their own packs.

“We understand.” Came the unanimous answer as they followed their caretaker into the deep shadows of late afternoon.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

“Oh dear, this could cause a bit of a problem.” Dis sighed as she reread the letter that had just arrived from Rivendell.

It had been nearly a month since her brother departed and now she wished that he had waited longer before leaving.

“Well, best set this straight right away before something dreadful happens.” With a sigh, the dwarven princess took off in order to find the company members who had remained in the mountain under Thorin's orders.

Once she had gathered them all together in a small meeting room in the royal quarters she set about explaining their current predicament.

“I'll just get right to the point, shall I?” She said, meeting the curious gazes head on as she set the letter in the middle of the table. “I've just received word from Lord Elrond of Rivendell and it seems my brother and the others are waiting for the hobbits in the wrong location.”

A cacophony of shouts sprang up from the gathered dwarrow. Some upset, some angry, but mostly confused. How could this have happened? If Bilbo wasn't coming through Mirkwood then which road did he take? Going through Rohan would take far too long, winter would be upon them before they arrived, so that only left one possible route. The faces of the company turned grim as they thought of what that meant for their beloved burglar and his brood.

Dis continued, ignoring the males as she made clear what exactly had happened. “It appears that even with our recent endeavors to pacify the woodland realm, King Thranduil still holds a bitter dislike of Durin's folk. His own son warned Bilbo away from the path through Mirkwood in fear of what his father might attempt should he be discovered there and instead offered an alternate route. It's just a pity he doesn't know what we do pertaining to the pass.”

“Aye, lassie, if he did I'm sure the princling would never have directed Bilbo to that place. As we all know, the path between Mirkwood and the Gray mountains travels through a valley with steep cliffs on either side that has recently become overrun with orcs. There's far more than there's ever been before and I wouldn't be surprised if it has become a haven of sorts for those foul creatures.” Balin spoke, brows furrowed in worry.

“The letter also mentions a band of orc riders making their way from the direction of the Shire at a deadly pace. There's no doubt that they'll come up from behind the halflings.” The female declared.

At this an angry scowl settled on nearly ever dwarf's face. Were these the vile beasts who had forced their lucky number to flee from his home? Were they now hunting him and the young ones he traveled with?

“If things continue the way they are then Bilbo will certainly be surrounded.” Fili declared, face taking on the appearance of hardened stone as he thought of his adopted uncle in danger.

“They'll have no way out of the valley...” Kili added lowly, apprehension showing on the faces of the gathered dwarrow as they realized what that meant. “They're heading straight to their doom!”

The hobbit's adoptive family burst out into frantic muttering as they argued about what to do. It wasn't until the female Durin slammed her fist down on the wooden table that they settled back down, tensely shifting in their seats as they waited for her to speak.

“I can take care of things here. I know that you've all finished the tasks my brother asked of you so now I have an order of my own for you to follow.” Dis stated, folding the letter back up before tucking it carefully into her pocket.

The gathered dwarrow sat with bated breath, impatience reining as they awaited their princess' command.

“Go, warn Thorin. Tell him that he's camped in the wrong place.” She proclaimed, authority ringing in her voice. “Make haste and don't tarry, for the hobbits' lives depend on you reaching them in time.”

She didn't have to tell them a second time. As one, the gathered dwarrow leapt to their feet, nearly sprinting through the halls of the mountain as they rushed off to pack any necessary supplies and saddle their ponies. Within ten minutes Fili and Kili were racing their steeds down the dusty path, slightly ahead of the others as they rode into the sunny fall afternoon. They would push themselves and their mounts to the limit and would hopefully reach their king's camp by the day after tomorrow. Then it would be off to find their missing member and bring him back home where he belongs... even if they had to fight an army of orcs to do so.

Chapter Text

The wind roared as the storm raged around them. It was nearing the middle of autumn so the water that fell from the sky chilled them all to the bone, causing shivers to wrack their dripping forms. If it weren't for the threat of orcs Bilbo would have found a nice, dry cave or something of the like to shelter them from the downpour but as things were he couldn't risk it. The enemy had gained on them over the last couple of weeks. There was only so much ground the faunts could cover in a day and they couldn't continue without food and rest like the elder Baggins could. The howls were a constant presence now, setting their hair on end as the sound echoed around the valley they had found themselves in.

'This isn't good.' The older hobbit thought to himself as he herded his tired flock of youngsters through the rocky vale. 'They can't be more than a few hours behind us, if not less. We can't risk getting cut off in this place. The walls are too steep. I don't know if the boys would be able to climb out and I doubt it would be any easier for me either.'

He truly missed traveling with his band of dwarves. Back then, even when the enemy was on their tails, he still felt relatively safe knowing that his family was with him. They would assist him with this kind of thing and he would do his best to return the favor in any way possible. Now though... he was the only one who could protect Frodo, Samwise, Meriadoc, and Peregrin from the dangers that await them.

“Come on boys, keep up.” He called, glancing over his shoulder to where the faunts where struggling to hold the punishing pace he'd set for them. “We can't rest yet. We need to keep moving.”

“Mr. Bilbo, we're tired and our feet hurt.” Sam exclaimed as he turned to look back at the younger children. “And I'm not sure how long the others will last. Frodo twisted his ankle and Merry and Pippin are so cold that they're trembling.”

Sam, himself, wasn't fairing much better as he supported his best friend while they trudged along. Bilbo knew that if they stopped now, however, it was only a matter of time until the enemy would be upon them. So, making his way over to the lads, he knelt down and removed his pack. Taking out the extra clothes and blankets he had stored inside he divided them out between the youngsters. He knew it wouldn't be long before these clothes were soaked through as well but at least for now they'd offer a little protection from the rain. Once they were all bundled up the ring-bearer turned to Samwise, placing a gentle hand on the tallest boy's shoulder.

“Sam, do you think you would be able to carry this pack?” He asked, pausing to wipe some water from his eyes. “I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to but I think it would be best if I carry Frodo for awhile and I don't think I could manage both.”

The younger hobbit nodded resolutely as he lifted the pack, surprised to find that it wasn't as heavy as he expected, before placing the straps over his shoulders. Smiling at the determined child Bilbo turned his back to his nephew.

“Come on Frodo, up you get.” He said, offering the boy a piggyback ride.

“Uncle, I can walk on my own.” The dark haired boy protested but upon receiving a doubtful look from the elder being he decided it was best just to go along with it... after all, his right ankle was starting to throb really badly.

“That a lad.” Bilbo said as his nephew clambered onto him. “Now hold on tight, we're going to be moving as quickly as possible still.”

Upon feeling the small arms tighten around his neck the former burglar turned to face the others.

“Ready?” He questioned relieved to see that the shivering had lessened, even if just a bit.

“Yes sir.” Came the reply from the three remaining fauntlings and Bilbo felt a small smile form on his face. His boys were nothing if not resilient and he was exceedingly thankful for that at the moment.

Just then another howl sounded though the storm, much closer than the last and the hobbit shuddered as more joined the call. The enemy had caught their scent... they were being hunted.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

Thorin paced around their camp, restlessly watching the trail leading from the darkened forest as he continued the routine he'd fallen into. A storm was building in the distance and soon the rain would begin to fall. That barely registered with him, however. Something didn't feel right here and he couldn't figure out what it was. Mere days after the group had set up camp he had felt a growing apprehension and it had been getting stronger by the day. Now, nearly two weeks after first arriving, it had become nearly unbearable. The dwarven king couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen and it set him on edge. His temper was shortened by his anxiety and the company members he had brought along had grown solemn as they noticed their leaders mood decline. He was nearly at his wits end, Bilbo should have been here by now and yet there was still no sign of his Hobbit or the children he traveled with. He was nearly ready to march into Mirkwood, right up to that blasted elf Thranduil, and demand to know what had happened to his One. But he couldn't do that. They had worked too hard on the tentative peace that had formed between their two kingdoms and he wouldn't risk destroying that fragile treaty.

Suddenly the thunderous sound of hooves traversing over hardened ground filled the air and he whipped around, catching sight of a group of dwarves riding quickly towards them. As they approached, Thorin felt dread flood his heart as he recognized the dwarrow. By now the others had risen to their feet as well, crowding around their king as the rest of the company pulled to a halt before them. Barely allowing their ponies to stop before launching off the beasts his sister-sons raced to his side, twin looks of worry marring their faces.

“What is the matter?” The leader asked seriously, knowing that something dire must have happened for them to have come here without even sending a raven.

“Uncle!” Fili exclaimed, concerned eyes locking with his own. “We must move camp... you're waiting in the wrong place.”

Shock appeared on the elder Durin's face as he waited impatiently for an explanation. He didn't have to wait long, however, as Kili immediately picked up where his brother left off.

“Amad got a letter from Rivendell. It says Bilbo is taking the pass between Mirkwood and the Grey Mountains.” The youngest says as Thorin's face twists with worry. “It also says that a band of orcs have been spotted heading that way from the direction of the Shire.”

A growl forced itself past his teeth as his hands clenched into fists at his side. If this news is true then that means his halfling is in serious danger. The king knows how deadly it can be for even skilled warriors if they were to find themselves surrounded in that Mahal forsaken valley, much less a lone hobbit with four children to look after. Barking out orders the dwarrows were soon rushing to pack up camp, only bothering to take what was absolutely necessary. Not long afterwards, the company of Thorin Oakenshield was saddled and ready to go to their burglar's aid. It would take at least a day to reach the start of the pass and that was only if they pushed on at full speed with no rest. It didn't matter, however. Thorin would push himself to the brink of exhaustion and beyond if only it let him reach Bilbo in time.

'Stay strong, my love...' He thought, pushing his pony onward as the others followed closely behind. 'We're on our way.'

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

This was bad! The enemy was closing in from both sides. How the orcs had gotten in front of them Bilbo didn't know but it was too late to dwell on that now. They'd be upon them within ten minutes. If he didn't act fast there would be no chance of escape. Taking a moment to glance over his shoulder the ring-bearer's eyes widened at the sight that was presented to him. Huddled together near a low overhang, the boys sat trembling in fear as the deafening sound of the enemy's approach filled the otherwise still air.

'Those vile creatures won't lay a hand on my children!' He nearly screamed to himself as he scanned the area for any possible escape route. 'I'll protect them even if it's the death of me.'

Finding no other path they could take the hobbit turned desperate eyes to the cliff side. It was risky. The valley wall was steep and the climb long, especially for ones as small as the lads, and the rain didn't help matters either... but it was the only way. If they couldn't manage this route then their deaths were assured and he refused to think like that. He would get the lads to safety, he would make it back to his family and, he would definitely see Thorin again... even if the dwarf didn't return his feelings.

“Boys, come here!” Bilbo called, drawing the youngster's attention and they swiftly scrambled over to him. “We're going to need to climb to the top of this ridge...”

He was cut off by a chorus of frightened shouts as the faunts looked up at what seemed like, to them, an impossibly long climb.

“We can't make it all that way!” Merry cried fearfully, taking an unsteady step away from the cliff wall.

“It's different than climbing trees!” Pippin exclaimed at the same time.

The former burglar exhaled slowly, attempting to calm his nerves. They didn't have time for this! Turning to face the other two he saw the same reluctance he could see on the faces of their friends.

“Mr. Bilbo, we're all really tired from the running we've been doing and I don't think Frodo can climb on his own... not with him being hurt and all.”

Taking another look at his nephew the elder hobbit frowned. What Samwise said was true. The poor lad's ankle had swollen to nearly twice it's size in the last couple of hours, what with how they'd had to keep moving. Even though Bilbo had been carrying him for the most part it still didn't help that he'd been jostled around as he had. But even so, it didn't change the fact that if they didn't move they'd be as good as dead.

“I can try though.” Frodo spoke bravely, shaking their caretaker from his thoughts as he turned to face the other children. “I don't really want to be eaten by a warg or have something even worse happen to me. You don't either, right guys?”

As the ten year old's comment sank in his friends all nodded in agreement and moved closer to the elder hobbit. Bilbo smiled solemnly, gently ruffling Frodo's hair.

“Good lad.” He said before addressing the group. “Frodo, as much as I appreciate that you're willing to try climbing on your own I don't think it would be feasible at the moment. That ankle of yours is barely supporting your weight as it is. No, it's best if I carry you on my back as I have been.”

Other than a slight pout of his lips, the boy gives no indication that he disagrees and for that Bilbo is grateful. Turning to face the other three the fifty two year old continued.

“I'll help you all as much as possible. Unfortunately I didn't see fit to pack any rope so we'll have to do this free hand. I'll go up last in order to make sure that I'm in a position to catch you should you slip.” He speaks, voice low and serious, demanding complete attention. “You'll all need to watch your footing and look for the easiest way up. Try and help each other if you are having trouble reaching handholds. Once we reach the top we'll make our way to the edge of the forest and follow that around until the end of the valley. By then we should be able to see Erebor in the distance.”

Once he received nods from each of the fauntlings Bilbo helps his nephew up onto his back for the second time that day and heads toward the rocky cliff wall. Noticing Sam about to pick up the large supply pack that he'd taken to carrying for the elder hobbit he shook his head.

“Leave it, Sam.” He stated, knowing that by doing so they were leaving their food, their medicine, all of their supplies behind. “I won't risk your life. There's no way you would be able to climb safely if you were burdened by it.”

“But...” The child began to protest only to be cut off by his elder.

“I said leave it.” He said sternly, taking the bag and setting it by the cliff. “You and the others are far more important to me than anything in that pack. We're not too far from the Lonely Mountain, a week at most, we'll be safe there.”

The boys nodded, mutely moving over to stand beside their caretaker before beginning the arduous climb. Watching as the three able faunts started scaling the steep walls Bilbo glanced around once more, breath catching in his throat as he saw several wargs rounding a bend barely thirty feet away.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

Distant howls filled the air yet the company were still several hours from their destination. It was driving Thorin mad to know that he would be unable to assist his hobbit should anything befall him in the time before they made it to the valley and yet he held out hope that Bilbo would be able to avoid danger until they arrived. The dwarrow were already traveling at their quickest pace, the ponies' sides heaving as they carried their masters onward ever faster as if they themselves could sense the urgency of the situation.

“Thorin,” Balin called over the rain that had begun pounding down on them nearly two hours previous. “We should make for the edge of the forest closest to the valley. If Bilbo managed to escape the pass he would have headed there in hopes that the enemy would lose their trail.”

“Aye, the hobbit is clever.” Dwalin chipped in, riding just to the right of his king. “If anyone can outsmart a battalion of orcs while watching over youngsters it'd be him.”

Thinking on it for a moment, the former king in exile could see the truth in what his adviser and best friend had spoken. It would be just like his One to be able to think so rationally under all that pressure.

“I believe you are right.” He replied as he ran a hand through his soaked mane. “Once we are closer we will spread out through the tree line, though we will not venture farther into the woods unless we find their tracks. We can't risk being delayed by the elves.”

There was silence for nearly ten minutes before a voice rose above the racket of the storm once more.

“Do you think they'll be okay?” The young scholar spoke, voice barely audible over the rain.

No one answered as Dori shifted closer to his little brother, maneuvering in his saddle so that he managed to wrap an arm around the smaller dwarf's shoulders. They were all thinking the same thing it's just that Ori... sweet, innocent Ori... was the only one willing to voice the concerns that plagued them all. Hearing their fears spoken aloud like that was something that made it all too real. This wasn't a 'what if' situation. Their burglar... their friend... was out there. He was being hunted by orcs this very minute, the children probably clinging to him in hopes of some semblance of protection that the company knew Bilbo would sacrifice anything to give... and that filled their hearts with dread. If something happened before they reached them, if they were too late, they would never forgive themselves... Thorin would never forgive himself.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

“Come on lads, keep climbing!” Bilbo shouted as he risked a quick look down only to see the enemy swarming below.

Several orcs were pulling out their bows and the hobbit felt fear curl in his stomach. They had managed to make it over halfway up but now they were sitting ducks! Drawing Sting in preparation of the impending attack Bilbo turned so that he was clinging to the cliff sideways before calling out to Sam and Merry who were to his left.

“Samwise! Meriadoc! I need you to help Frodo up the rest of the way.” He exclaimed hastily, eyes never leaving his foes even as the rain tried to obscure his vision.

Without any arguing Frodo slid off his back, finding footholds while his friends steadied him. Pippin, being further up the cliff, screamed out a warning as the first barrage of arrows flew at them. Doing his best to shield the fauntlings Bilbo managed to deflect the projectiles that flew close to them, but his attention was diverted when he heard a sharp gasp. Whipping around, he had just enough time to fling out a hand to catch his youngest as the child tumbled towards him. Managing to grab hold of the boys wrist, the formerly respectable hobbit pulled him up, shielding him between the stone wall and his body as more arrows flew. Luckily they all missed their intended targets.

“Are you alright, lad?” He demanded, breath coming fast as the situation sank in. “Are you hurt!”

“I...I'm okay.” The boy said at last, rattled by his fall. “I just lost my grip on the rocks.”

“It's fine... as long as you're alright, it's fine.” The older hobbit breathed a sigh of relief before noticing that the enemy was getting ready for another barrage. “Do you think you can still climb?”

“Yes, I think so.” Nodding, Bilbo let the boy wiggle out and continue upwards, deflecting any of the shafts that came their way.

He stayed even closer to the boys from that point on. Not willing to let another accident, like the previous one, happen again. Throwing loose stones down at the enemy in order to distract them and draw their fire towards himself, Bilbo managed to buy enough time for the faunts to scramble over the top of the ledge. He was about to follow them when a sharp pain cut through his left side, causing a loud scream to rip from his throat as he nearly lost his grip on the slippery rock face.

“Uncle Bilbo!” He heard Frodo call from above, moments before several small hands took hold of his own.

With a final burst of strength the hobbit managed to pull himself up and scooted back from the edge, breathing heavily as his side burned in agony. Luckily it was too steep for the enemy to follow so they had a small respite before they were in immediate danger. The elder male knew that it would be short lived however and if they didn't get moving it would only be a matter of time before the enemy caught up. So, pushing aside the pain he urged them onwards... herding the small group into the trees.

As they moved the ring-bearer pressed a hand to his side swallowing his dread when it came away sticky with warm blood. One of the orcs had managed to graze him with an arrow but he didn't have time to deal with it right now. Instead, he just pressed his shirt tightly against the wound hoping to stem the blood flow as much as possible for the time being. Once they had gotten far enough away and he made sure the lads were safe, only then would he take care of himself. With that in mind the elder Baggins led the way through the forest, keeping close to the edge of the trees. Hopefully they would be able to follow the valley east towards Erebor and maybe, if they were lucky, their enemy would lose their scent due to the rain and not be able to track them down. If not... well he'd deal with that when and if it happened.

“You're bleeding.” Pippin pointed out as he maneuvered the children so that they were in front making sure he kept a close watch for any threat from behind.

“Will you be okay?” Merry added, grabbing hold of the younger boy's hand to help him over a large root.

Gritting his teeth to prevent a gasp from escaping as his injury was jostled, Bilbo did his best to sound convincing. “I'll be just fine, you don't need to worry about me. I'm tough, remember?”

The boys didn't look as convinced as he'd have liked so, hoping to draw their minds off the fact that he'd been hurt, Bilbo changed the subject.

“How's your ankle Frodo?” He asked, worried for his nephew as he noticed the lad stumble only for Samwise to catch him.

“It feels better than it did earlier.” The black haired faunt revealed, leaning partially on the young Gamgee for support. “I think I'll be able to walk with Sam's help.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Bilbo.” The blonde spoke up, wrapping a protective arm around the smaller boy's shoulder. “I've got him.”

“That's good. We'll have to move as quickly as possible if we want to avoid any further incidences with those orcs.” He declared, the pain seemingly growing with every minute yet he made sure not to let it show. “You'll be sure to tell me if it starts hurting again, right lad?”

“Yes uncle.” His nephew replied as they wove quietly between the trees.

With a nod of acceptance the former burglar followed after them, casting one last look towards the cliff to make absolute certain that none of the enemy had managed to scale the wall. Satisfied, the small group pushed onward into the fading shadows of evening, knowing that the night ahead would offer little respite. Glancing toward the sky Bilbo's eyes turned sad, rain falling around him as he thought of the dwarves... it was at times such as these that he wished his adopted family could be by his side.

Chapter Text

His side was burning and it felt as if his veins were filled with liquid fire. It was hard to concentrate on anything else. He didn't know how much time had passed or how close they were to the edge of these infernal woods. The only thing he knew was that he had to get the boys to safety. The orcs where gaining on them. Each passing minute only brought them closer to the enemies clutches and he knew that he should try and move faster... but he couldn't. With that thought Bilbo collapsed to his knees, one hand pressed tightly to his wound as he tried in vain not to expel the meager contents of his stomach. It didn't work. As he finished heaving the elder hobbit felt a small hand rubbing his back and glanced to the side, noticing his nephew standing beside him with a worried look while the others waited not far away.

“I'm... I'm okay... Frodo.” He panted, fighting the nausea. “Let's get moving.”

“No uncle, you need to rest.” The ten year old expressed vehemently.

“I can't... the orcs.” He pleaded, wishing he could just give in to the pain and fall into the gentle oblivion of unconsciousness.

Sam stepped forward, placing his hand against the older male's forehead and gasped in shock.

“Mr. Bilbo you've got a really high fever.” The blonde haired faunt revealed as the others looked on in worry. “Frodo's right, you need to rest and let your body recover.”

Pushing to his feet Bilbo shook his head, regretting it instantly as a wave of dizziness swept over him. If not for the steadying hands of several fauntlings he probably would have ended up back on the ground. The youngsters withdrew as their caretaker nodded his thanks and braced himself.

“No, what we need to do is keep moving.” He declared, grabbing a nearby stick which he could use to help support himself. “If anything happened to you boys because I had chosen to stop and rest I would never be able to forgive myself.”

With that he once more began the trek towards Erebor, hoping that the Lonely Mountain would come into view by nightfall.

Apparently his hope wasn't completely wasted for even though the forest seemed to last forever he could just manage to glimpse the distant shape of the mountain's peak over top of the trees. The only problem was that Bilbo was unable to keep up the pace he'd set for the group and ended up having to rest every so often so they didn't make the progress he'd hoped they would. It wasn't just because of the fever though. No, it was partially caused by the fact that the boys were nearly as exhausted as he was. The stubborn hobbit had finally given in to the youngster's demands that he rest after noticing that Merry was struggling to keep up and that the other three weren't much better. It didn't matter if he was pushing himself too hard, he could take it... but his faunts were another matter entirely. If he could help it, he'd never do anything that deliberately put them in harms way.

“We'll rest here for the time being.” He spoke in a whisper, unable to muster anything louder.

Laying down on the cold ground, the fifty-two year old watched silently as the youngsters did the same before allowing himself to drift into a restless slumber. He was too tired to stand guard and prayed to Yavanna that they would be safe here for a short time while he regained some of the strength he'd lost.

“Do you think Bilbo will be alright?” Pippin asked as he scooted closer to Merry.

“I think he'll be fine if he gets some rest.” Sam answered, wrapping a supportive arm around Frodo's shoulder. “He's just tired and that wound probably hurts.”

“Not to mention that he's worried about us.” Meriadoc added, allowing the young Took to lay his head on his knee.

Frodo didn't say anything at first, too busy watching the older Baggins shiver due to the fever that still ravaged his body. He was frightened. Not only because of the orcs and from being so far from home... but for his uncle as well. Their caretaker had done everything he possibly could to protect them and keep them from harm and now when he was sick they couldn't do anything to help! It made him feel so powerless. He was only ten years old! How was he supposed to handle everything that had happened to them in recent times?

“Are you alright?” His best friend asked, shaking him slightly when he didn't answer. “Frodo?”

“No.” He admitted, tears building in his blue eyes. “What am I supposed to do Sam?”

“What do you mean?” The young Gamgee questioned, confusion clear in his voice.

Taking a deep breath Frodo tore his gaze away from the older hobbit's prone form until it rested on his friend's gentle face.

“What will I do if Uncle Bilbo dies?” He sobbed brokenly. “He's the only family I have that actually cares about me!”

“That's not true!” Merry shouted from where he sat a few feet away, Pippin nodding fiercely in agreement. “You have us and you have Sam. Sure he's not related by blood but he's more loyal than most of our actual relatives.”

“Besides,” Sam spoke before the younger faunt could continue. “Bilbo would never leave you alone! He's too strong to die in a place like this. Remember... he journeyed all over with the dwarves, saved them on countless occasions, and even survived The Battle Of Five Armies. He's a fighter, our Mr. Bilbo.”

Glancing over at their elder the boys breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes it seemed Sam's name fit him too well for he was definitely the wisest of the four of them.

“Don't you worry, Frodo.” The blonde continued, wiping the tears from his friend's face with his thumb. “There's no way he'd give up on us after all this, alright?”

“MmHmm.” The other boy agreed, quietly, as he leaned his head against the taller faunt's shoulder.

The four friends all snuggled together, exhausted by their ordeal. It didn't take long for them to fall asleep.

A few hours later Bilbo was awoken by the shrill howl of approaching wargs. Sitting bolt upright, he was nearly overcome by a strong sense of vertigo that swept over him but he pushed it aside in favor of waking the boys.

“Everyone up!” He cried, shaking awake the nearest fauntling... which just so happened to be Peregrin. “We have to get moving, the enemy is nearly upon us!”

Startling awake the children rushed to his side but it was too late, a riderless warg leapt from the bushes right in front of them. Drawing sting, Bilbo managed to do away with the vile creature but not before it had sent out a warning howl to the rest of it's pack. Whirling around, the hobbit quickly scanned the surrounding area for somewhere to hide his faunts. Upon seeing a tree that towered above the others and had plenty of leaves to shield them from view he hurriedly ushered them towards it. He had just enough time to get the lads secure in their hiding place before the orcs were upon him. Grasping Sting in his trembling hands and already breathing heavily, the elder Baggins took his stance.

The battle continued for what seemed like forever and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. With every minute that passed Bilbo took down more of the enemy, but he also gained more injuries. Most where just small cuts from where he narrowly avoided a swing of an orc's weapon or the deadly claws of a warg. Others, however, were far more deadly. The apparent leader in particular had dealt a heavy blow with his mace that had caught the hobbit's right arm. He'd screamed, dropping Sting to the ground... the pain was far more intense than any he had felt before and he could tell the bone had been broken. Now, blood trailed down his mangled limb as he barely managed to avoid another strike. The orc underlings had backed off, leaving their leader to toy with his prey as they scoured the bushes in search for the others he'd been traveling with. Not for the first time during this encounter did Bilbo thank the Valar that he had managed to conceal the boys in time. Yet even so... what would happen to them once he fell? Not willing to think further on that, Bilbo ducked under the enemy's attack and managed to recover his weapon, switching it to his left hand to continue the fight... he refused to let it end like this.

“Why don't you give up and accept your fate, halfling?” His opponent hissed out in twisted Westron. “Your suffering will end sooner if you do.”

“You're lying.” The former burglar choked out as they clashed. “I know full well how your kind like to torture and maim your victims before finally doing away with them in the most vile ways imaginable. Besides, I would never willing surrender to someone such as you. I will fight to the end if need be!”

“It makes no difference to me.” The orc answered, a sickening smile forming on his repulsive face. “The only thing that changes is the way you will die.”

With that the battle picked up an even fiercer pace which the hobbit struggled to maintain in his wounded state. His side throbbed and his arm felt as though it had been severed. The only thing that kept him moving through the agony was the thought of his faunts huddling in their hiding place, eyes closed in terror as they held tight to one another.

'How did it come to this?' Bilbo asked himself as he raised Sting once more, panting from exertion and fever as he fended off the lead orc's blow... arms trembling from the effort.

Had he managed to make it all this way only to be cut down just as the Lonely Mountain finally came into view? Glancing toward the tree where he knew his small charges to be hiding the lone hobbit summoned what was left of his strength and raced forward... a battle cry wrenched itself from his sore throat as his letter opener collided with his opponent's weapon. If this was how he was going to die then so be it, but he would take as many of the enemy with him as possible! He would protect these children with every ounce of strength that remained in his body, even if it was the last thing he did!

'I'm sorry, Thorin. It looks like I won't be able to apologize after all.' With that final thought Bilbo redoubled his efforts, unaware that help was on it's way.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

The dwarves had reached the eastern edge of the pass and gathered near the treeline. There was no sign of the hobbits as of yet but there were also no sign of the enemy. They were thankful for that, it gave them hope that their burglar and the young ones he traveled with were still alive. That hope was nearly extinguished however, when the howl of a warg scout pierced the air. It was clearly signaling that it had found it's prey and when the beast's cry was cut short they knew it could only have been because Bilbo had slain it. Yet that thought didn't settle anyone's nerves for they knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the rest of the pack came upon their burglar.

“Judging by how loud that howl was we must be fairly close.” Balin exclaimed, looking to Thorin for his orders.

“We ride at full speed. Follow the trees, I doubt Bilbo would have ventured too far into the forest.” He declared, worry causing his brows to furrow as he urged his pony onward. “Once we arrive show no mercy! I don't want a single orc escaping this day!”

“Do you think Bilbo will...” Kili began only to be cut off by his brother.

“Don't even finish that thought.” Fili hissed, casting his uncle a wary glance.

They rode in silence for a few moments before it was broken by Ori, his voice more confident than any of them, besides his brothers and Balin, had ever heard.

“He's alive... and he'll be alive when we reach him.” The small scribe announced, gazing around at the gathered company. “We all agreed, Bilbo's strong, even more so when he has something to protect. We just need to believe in him.”

The shocked looks that were cast his way would have been humorous any other time but not now, they were too focused on the task ahead. Still, it did alleviate the slightest bit of trepidation, allowing them to focus moreover on the task at hand. They couldn't afford to be distracted for the upcoming battle. Only Thorin failed to take comfort in the younger dwarf's words, mind too preoccupied with thoughts of his love in danger.

'I'll be there soon, Ghivashel.' The dwarven king thought to himself as he scanned the horizon. 'Don't do anything foolish.'

Nearly twenty minutes later they heard the sounds of metal on metal and knew they'd found their hobbit. By the sounds of it he was still fighting though they knew not the condition he was in or whether the young ones still lived. They prayed to Mahal that they'd made it in time. Readying their weapons the dwarrows made short work of dismounting from their ponies and rushing to their friend's aid. They entered a clearing, immediately scattering about to dispose of the enemy while they still had the element of surprise. Cutting down orc after orc Thorin scoured the battlefield for any sign of his hobbit, freezing in his tracks at the sight before him. There, across the clearing from him, was Bilbo. He met his One's gaze at the exact moment the hobbit coughed out blood, collapsing to his knees as the lead orc raised his weapon, ready to strike the killing blow.

“NO!” Thorin roared, rushing forward to intercept the attack.

He managed to make it moments before his love was killed and made swift work of ending the enemy's miserable life. Glancing around for any further danger the dwarven king was pleased to note that the company had already dealt with the rest of the orc battalion so he was free to help his wounded hobbit.

“Bilbo,” He said, voice slightly choked as he knelt before his once absent companion.

He gently lifted his One so that his head was lying in his lap, making sure to be extra careful with his injured arm, before calling for Oin. His hands were shaking slightly as he wiped the blood from Bilbo's face.

“Tho...Thorin?” The hobbit spoke, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes, I'm here.” The normally temperamental dwarf acknowledged. “You're safe now. Just rest, save your strength.”

With a sigh the younger being relaxed into Thorin's hold as Oin began examining him, but that didn't last long. All of a sudden the burglar's eyes snapped open, widening in fear as he began struggling to get up even though the movement clearly caused him great pain. The company shifted around them, uncertain how they could be of assistance in this situation.

“Shh, be still Bilbo.” The dwarrow leader hushed, concern filling his heart at the sight of his love so distressed.

“No! Let m...me up.” The hobbit shouted, voice rising in panic. “I n...need to get to th...them! I need to get to my b...boys!”

Understanding dawned on the king's face and he glanced around the company, meeting each of their eyes.

“Everyone other than Oin is to start searching for the hobbit children.” He ordered, watching as the gathered dwarrow's eyes hardened with determination. “If you find them call out to alert everyone but do not approach right away, we do not want to frighten them any further.”

“Yes sir.” The company chorused as they fanned out around the clearing.

“Thor...in.” The injured halfing whispered, his strength all but gone as he now lay limply in the dwarf's arms.

“It's alright, we'll find them.” He promised, carefully wiping away the tears that had began to flow down the hobbit's face before turning to the medical dwarf. “How is he?”

His question went unanswered for several minutes as Oin worked on appraising the injuries their companion had sustained. Thorin watched in growing dread as the medic's eyes darkened in anger and concern. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the elderly dwarf turned to him and spoke.

“I'll be honest here, Thorin... it's not looking good.” Their older friend explained, a frown marring his face as he unpacked the medical supplies he'd brought along. “He's got a broken arm as well as many deep cuts to the same arm, likely caused by a spiked mace. There are other, smaller, cuts and bruises littering most of his body and judging by the swelling he most likely twisted his ankle sometime during the battle.”

Thorin bit back his rage, knowing it would do nothing to help his hobbit, and instead focused once more on what the elder dwarf was saying.

“The worst of it though is this wound I found on his side.” He said, pointing to the seeping cut on the left side of Bilbo's torso. “It's become infected and the poor lad has developed a rather high fever, not to mention that he's also a little malnourished. If we don't get him somewhere safe where we can treat him, he'll most likely not survive the week.”

“We're not too far from Erebor. If we ride through the night we can make it back by late tomorrow evening.” The leader declared, concern shining in his deep blue eyes as Bilbo tugged weakly on his tunic sleeve.

“Thorin...” He gasped, eye's fluttering as he fought to stay conscious. “Tree.”

The dwarrow didn't know why the hobbit was so concerned over a tree at a time like this but glanced around anyway. He couldn't bear to say 'no' to the smaller male when he was in such a critical state. Following Bilbo's gaze to the tree standing barely three feet away, he saw the leaves of a high branch rustle slightly and smiled when he caught sight of a tiny foot poking through the foliage. He carefully lifted the halfling's prone form enough so he could slide out from under him, taking a moment to remove his coat and place it under the hobbit's head in exchange for his lap. Before rising to his feet the king leaned down to whisper reassuringly in his friend's ear.

“You don't have to worry, Bilbo, they're safe.” He soothed, eyes prickling as he watched the love he'd once thought lost smile before falling into the oblivion of unconsciousness. “Rest, Ghivashel, you've done enough. Let me take care of the rest.”

Leaving Bilbo in Oin's capable hands, Thorin made his way over to the tree where his love had concealed the children. He decided to wait on calling the company, it would probably be best if he talked to the lads on his own rather than having a bunch of strangers loitering about. With that settled the dark haired male started up the tree. He heard a few distressed squeaks float down from the branches above and called out in a voice he hadn't used since Fili and Kili where young dwarflings.

“It's okay now, boys, you're safe. I'm a friend of Bilbo's... my name is Thorin Oakenshield.” He comforted, halting his progress as he waited for a response.

“Thorin?” A tiny voice called and he could see a face with dark curls and curious, yet frightened, blue eyes peering down at him. “The same Thorin that lead the quest against the dragon?”

A small chuckle found it's way out his mouth as a fond smile settled on his rugged face. Of course Bilbo would have told them that story. He saw three more heads peek carefully out of their hiding spot as he slowly began his ascent once more.

“The very same.” He agreed, sighing in relief when he saw that the four young hobbit's seemed to relax at that revelation.

Soon enough he had managed to pull himself up onto a branch near the one where the youngsters were situated and took a closer look at the boys sitting across from him. None of them seemed to be harmed, in fact they seemed very well taken care of for children who have spent the better part of six months on the road. Just by sight alone he could tell that they had fared far better than Bilbo and he wouldn't be surprised if he were to learn that his Hobbit had been neglecting his own needs in order to care for the young ones sitting before him. It was just so like his hobbit to do that.

Thinking back to the letters Bilbo had sent the company over the past couple of years he was able to put names to the faces sitting before him. The black haired child who he'd talked to moments before was obviously Frodo, Bilbo's nephew and beside him on the left would be Samwise. The slightly taller boy had his arm wrapped protectively around the other as he kept a wary watch for danger. The two younger children were huddled close together on Frodo's right with the smallest hiding slightly behind his companion. These had to be Meriadoc and Peregrin. Smiling at the uncertain hobbits Thorin took the opportunity to try and coax them down.

“How about we get you out of this tree?” He asked, noticing how the wind was picking up and rocking the branch they were nestled on. “You can meet the rest of the company. I know my nephews have been waiting very impatiently to meet the little hobbits Bilbo has been writing to us about.”

The boys looked at each other for a few moments after he'd mentioned their caretaker and the dwarven king silently cursed himself as he noticed tears appearing in the black haired child's eyes. He was debating on how to fix this when the larger blonde spoke.

“What happened to Mr. Bilbo? Is he okay?” Sam demanded and Thorin could tell he was trying to stay strong for Frodo who was currently hiding his tear filled eyes in his friend's shirt. “He was sick... and hurt. Please, he's not dead, is he?”

Before the tykes could begin panicking in full he rushed to reassure them, making sure his voice was as calm and soothing as he could make it.

“No, no, he'll be just fine.” Thorin promised, hoping he wouldn't be made a liar in the upcoming days. “He was wounded and is suffering a fever, as you seem to already know, but he'll live. He's sleeping now though, Bilbo needs to rest in order to regain his strength.”

“I want to see my uncle.” Frodo voiced in a hushed whisper, peering at him through the fading autumn light.

The dwarf debated with himself for a few moments. If he were in the young one's shoes (or lack thereof) of course he'd want to see his family member. On the other hand he didn't want to upset the children anymore than they already were but... wouldn't keeping them from their guardian do just that? Making up his mind, Thorin nodded.

“You can see him once we get down, but only for a minute. Then we must be on our way to Erebor so that we can help Bilbo heal properly.” He said, reaching out a hand to the children. “Now let's get going. The sooner we get down from here the sooner we can head home.”

“Home?” All four children spoke at once, confusion clear on their little faces.

“Yes,” The stoic dwarf answered, a kind smile lighting his usually stern features. “Erebor will be your home from now until you choose to leave. There is nothing to fear from us, little ones. We think of Bilbo as family and now, the same goes for you. Let us go home.”

He glanced around at the lads, surprised to see more tears trailing down their cheeks. Just as he was beginning to think he'd said something wrong four small bodies crashed into him and he found his arms full of sobbing hobbit children. Thanking Aule that he'd had his back braced against the trunk of the tree he smiled softly. It was now obvious that these were tears of relief and so he held them close for a short while, offering what little comfort he could, before his mind flashed to Bilbo and he grew somber once more. What would he do if his One fell? How would he handle these little constant reminders of him? Shaking himself from such thoughts, Thorin disentangled himself from the children's holds and began helping them climb down. If it came to that he knew in his heart he would do all he could to protect them, after all... it's what his love would have wanted.

Chapter Text

Thorin glanced up from where he sat atop his pony, as the gates of Erebor opened before them. Turning his eyes back down the king took in the still form of the smaller male nestled in his arms. Bilbo had yet to awaken, even though it had already been a full day since his One had fallen unconscious. As time passed by he seemed to grow more and more pale and the whole company was beginning to fear the worst. The only ones who showed any optimism were the hobbit children their burglar had been traveling with. Whether it was because they truly believed their caretaker would recover or they just didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't, Thorin didn't know. All he knew was that if his love succumbed to his injuries, he'd be left heartbroken with four young children to raise.

Pushing that thought away, the company leader whispered into Bilbo's hair as he pulled his pony to a halt. “We're home, love.”

No answer came from the unresponsive hobbit and he couldn't help thinking to himself. 'I wish you were awake so I could see that wondrous smile you always wore when you were in a cheerful mood.'

A shuffling sound alerted the royal dwarf to the fact that his best friend had made his way over and was now standing off to the side.

“Hand him to me Thorin.” Dwalin spoke, receiving a begrudging nod as the king gently passed the smaller male to the other dwarf before dismounting.

“I'll take him to the infirmary myself.” He disclosed, taking Bilbo back into his strong arms. “Can you supervise Fili and Kili with the children?”

“Aye, I can do that.” The usually intimidating dwarrow said, a smile blooming on his bearded face as he watched the princes scoop up the tiny hobbits. “It's no surprise that the lads won them over so fast, probably due to their own childish nature, though I must admit that I fear the day those four little tykes start pulling pranks. They'll be quite the force to reckon with.”

“And we'll know exactly who to blame for it too.” Balin added as he made his way over, the grin he'd been wearing fading slightly as he caught sight of their burglar. “You'd best get a move on Thorin, you'll be glad to hear that Oin's already rushed on ahead... he should be all set up by the time you get to the medical wing.”

With a curt nod Thorin left his friends behind as he swiftly walked the halls of Erebor. Several minutes later he turned down a corridor and into a room reserved exclusively for the royal family for if they were to ever come down with something that couldn't be treated in their own bedchambers. Being as careful as possible the normally stern dwarf placed his precious cargo on the bed, brushing a strand of curly hair from Bilbo's face before backing up to let the medic examine him. The King Under the Mountain watched, worry etched into his face as he took in his beloved's ragged breathing and pallid complexion.

“How is he?” The leader asked, hoping against hope for some good news.

“He's hanging in there.” Oin replied, a heavyhearted sigh escaping his lips. “I think that's all we can really ask of him after what he's been through.”

Quickly finishing the examination the older dwarf turned once more to address his king.

“Bilbo's fever has risen and the arrow wound's infection has gotten worse. The good news is that I'm able to treat him much more efficiently now that we're here. I'll have to re-bandage his arm and ankle as well as cut away any diseased skin from around the infected wound before stitching it closed. It'll be painful but if left alone it will only cause him more harm. Truth be told I'm rather glad he won't be conscious for that.”

'As am I.' Thorin thought with a wince, knowing the agony it brings first hand.

“I need to concentrate and I don't think it would be a good idea for you to be in here while I preform the surgery. You'd just be getting in my way with all your fretting.” The medic declared, eyes narrowing slightly as his assistant entered the room. “So with all do respect, Your Majesty, get out of my infirmary!”

With that Thorin was effectively chased out of the room and left staring in shock as the door slammed in his face. He knew how Oin could get when he was busy with a patient but he'd thought that his position would at least give him a slight chance of being allowed to stay with his One... apparently he'd been mistaken. Knowing there was no use trying to regain entry to the room at the current time, the stubborn dwarf decided to wait in the hallway for news of his hobbit's condition.

This is were his sister found him nearly two hours later. The others had explained to her what had occurred and she was honestly worried for the halfling as well as her stoic sibling. She knew that should the hobbit die then she would most likely lose her kin to grief and she refused to allow that to happen! She watched Thorin from a distance as he sat with his back pressed against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest with his head laying on his arms. The soft snoring sounds told her that he was fast asleep. Creeping past the exhausted dwarf, Dis quietly opened the door to the room where Bilbo was and let herself in. She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her throat at the sight that lay before her. The small male was as pale as the sheets he lay upon save for the red on his cheeks, caused by his fever, and a slight bit of blood leaking through the bandage on his side. Oin was bustling around, finishing bandaging the other numerous wounds the poor hobbit had sustained. It was clear to the royal that he'd fought tooth and nail, just as hard as any mother would if their young were in danger, and to know he was now fighting for his life because of it sent maternal fury coursing through her body. She waited silently, focusing on regaining control of her emotions as the medic finished up before turning to her with a questioning look in his aged eyes.

“Tell me, Oin... will the hobbit survive?” She demanded, voice strong and clear yet there was an underlining sense of dread in her words.

“Aye lass, I think he will.” Dis released the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding as the elderly dwarf continued. “He's a strong one, our burglar, it was touch and go for a while there but his fever is starting to withdraw and I managed to clear out the infection to the best of my ability. It'll leave a mighty impressive scar but other than that I expect he'll have no lasting damage. The lad put up one hell of a fight for those little ones. If not for his quick thinking I suspect they'd have all be dead by the time we reached them.

“He truly is remarkable, I understand why my brother thinks so highly of him.” The princess revealed as she stepped up to the bed, running a hand through the hobbit's unruly curls. “I look forward to talking to him when he wakes up, any idea when that will be?”

“It's hard to say, Your Highness.” The gray haired dwarf disclosed. “It could be in the next hour or it could be sometime tomorrow... maybe even later. It just depends on when his body decides it's time.”

“Even so, it's good to know that he will awaken, it'll put Thorin's mind at ease.” She said as she headed for the door, turning back for a moment as a smile graced her lovely face. “Thank you for telling me, my friend.”

Oin gave a solemn nod as she stepped out into the hallway. Dis made her way to her sibling's side and shook him awake, grinning smugly at the startled expression that was painted on his face. She watched as he schooled his expression into his normal scowl before letting a blinding smile grace her features.

“I've just been speaking with Oin and it seems your hobbit should make a full recovery, dear brother.” The dwarven female stated, a chuckle escaping as Thorin's scowl melted into the most relieved look she'd ever seen on his face.

“Oin said that?” He asked, needing to be certain.

“Yes, Bilbo should hopefully wake up sometime between now and tomorrow. He still has a bit of a fever but his wound has been cleaned and bandaged so it should drop soon.”

“Thank Mahal.” The king breathed in a near whisper. “I don't know what I'd have done if...”

He trailed off, unable to voice his fears, but his sister knew what he was thinking. She snaked her arm around his shoulder, offering him comfort he so desperately needed before pulling back to take his hand.

“I believe there are some young hobbits who would benefit from hearing this news as much as you have.” The younger dwarf revealed, looking him decisively in the eyes.

“You are right as usual, sister.” The company leader relented, knowing that it would be unfair to prolong the children's worrying for longer than necessary.

With that he sent a nod toward Dis and turned away, heading in the direction of the royal sitting rooms where he knew the rest of the company would be gathered waiting for news.

As soon as the door opened Thorin was bombarded by four tiny bodies. It's a good thing dwarves are so sturdy otherwise he probably would have been laying on the ground with the children sprawled out on top of him. That thought, along with the knowledge that Bilbo would live, caused a chuckle to escape the king as he wrapped his arms around the young hobbits who were still glued to his side.

“Thorin?” Frodo spoke up, albeit somewhat quietly. “Were you with my uncle? Is he going to be okay?”

The dwarven leader's smile dulled as he remembered how hard the last couple days had been for these boys. Ever since he'd managed to talk them down from the tree he could tell that they had been worried for their friend and caretaker. Yes, they did a good job hiding it and had seemed especially optimistic at times... but he could still see the doubt clearly written on their little faces. It broke his heart anew to know that after everything they had lost the lads still made an effort to smile. In that moment he promised himself that they would never again have to face such peril.

Kneeling down he placed a hand on the black haired child's shoulder and met each of their eyes in turn.

“There is no need to worry anymore.” He assured, using his thumb to wipe away a tear from Frodo's eye. “I have been informed that Bilbo is expected to make a full recovery.”

Loud sobs of relief erupted from the children at the same time the gathered dwarrow broke into raucous cheers. Drawing the boys into a steadying embrace, Thorin ignored his company in favor of comforting the teary eyed hobbits.

“Shh, it's alright now.” He spoke soothingly, his gruff voice softened to a mere whisper. “He will need time and rest to recover but we will all be there to look after him... isn't that right lads? He'll want for nothing with you four at his side.”

That earned him beaming smiles from the young hobbits as he loosened his hold and regained his feet. He was anxious to return to his One's side and hopeful that Oin would finally allow him entry to do so. With a warm smile, he turned to leave the room only to stop once more as a small hand caught in his tunic.

“Thank you, Uncle Thorin.” Frodo's small voice said as tiny arms wrapped around his leg.

Three more sets of arms soon joined the first as Sam, Merry, and Pippin also took hold of him. The King Under the Mountain bit back the emotion rising in his throat that threatened to bring tears to his eyes at being accepted so easily by his love's children. It meant more to him than they'd ever know, of that he was certain. He turned back and scooped them into his arms for a final embrace.

“You boys stay here.” He said as he released his grip, taking a step back. “I'm going to stay with Bilbo but I'll be sure to send word once he awakens. Is that alright with you?”

Upon receiving positive responses, Thorin headed out of the room and made his way back to the medical wing where his One awaited him. He paused outside the door, gathering his nerve, before pushing it open and stepping inside. Prepared for the verbal assault he was sure that Oin would attack him with once he was noticed, the stubborn dwarf blinked in surprise when he was greeted with silence. A swift glance around the room showed that the medic must have stepped out for a while as no one was there but the injured halfling. Hesitantly stepping up to his bedside, Thorin took Bilbo's hand in his own before taking a seat in a nearby vacant chair.

“I'm so sorry, Bilbo.” He spoke in a choked whisper, tears threatening to gather in his eyes. “I should have been there for you! You shouldn't have had to face this on your own! It's all my fault...”

Thorin couldn't help but blame himself for everything that had happened. If he hadn't been overwhelmed by the gold sickness, if he'd only told Bilbo how he'd felt after the battle, maybe this could all have been avoided. But no, he had been a coward who couldn't get the words out if his life depended on it... not even in a simple letter. Instead he had let the love of his life think himself hated for two years. How could he ever hope to make things right after all this time? Even so, Thorin Oakenshield was going to try his hardest to fix the wrongs he'd committed.

“Thorin?” A weak voice softly whispered, drawing him from his musings as he realized that several hours had passed and it was now the middle of the night.

“I'm here, Bilbo.” He said, grabbing a glass of water from the bedside table and helping the half asleep hobbit take a sip.

“Are the boys okay?” He asked, his voice slightly slurred from exhaustion. “What happened to them?”

“They are just fine, the others are watching them.” Thorin revealed, brushing his hand over Bilbo's head. “It's late and you need rest, go back to sleep.”

“Hmm.” The ring-bearer sighed as his half lidded eyes once again slipped closed.

Smiling slightly, the king shifted into a more comfortable position and closed his own eyes, knowing he'd need his wits about him come morning.

The next time he blinked his eyes open Thorin found a pair of fully aware green orbs gazing back at him, a hint of fear clouding their emerald depths. He loathed seeing that emotion reflected on his One's face and to know he was the reason for it caused his heart to clench painfully.

“Bilbo...” He began, softly, only to be cut off as the hobbit's voice rang out.

“Stop.” Bilbo said in a near whisper before turning his face to the floor, unable to meet the dwarf's eyes any longer. “I don't think I could stand hearing it. Please, Thorin, just let me rest here for a couple days, regain my strength, then I'll leave of my own accord. All I ask is that you provide safety and shelter to the children I traveled with. They've been through enough in the last few months, they don't need to be shunned for something I did. I know... I know you hate me but please, don't take out your anger on my boys! If someone needs to be punished let it be me. You can banish me, throw me from the wall, I don't care! I'm begging you, Thorin, just don't harm them.”

The usually stubborn dwarf went pale as Bilbo finished, mind racing as he tried to comprehend what he'd just heard. His love... his One... was willing putting his life in the hands of the person he thought still hated him in order to protect Frodo and the others. He knew that his Hobbit would risk anything to keep them safe but it still pained him to know that Bilbo expected to be punished for returning to Erebor. He had to set things straight and he had to do it now. He would not allow his One to continue living in fear of what would never happen.

“Please... please don't hurt them.” Bilbo pleaded, voice cracking as he mistook Thorin's silence for a refusal.

Tears began to fall and the company's leader immediately reached out to wipe them away, pulling his hand back as if he'd been burned when the smaller male flinched.

'He must not recall talking to me last night.' The dwarf realized as he tried to think of a way to assuage the hobbit's worries.

“Those boys will want for nothing.” He spoke at last, voice quiet so as not to startle the wounded halfling. “And I will see to it that no harm befalls any of them.”

“Thank you.” The shorter being said, a relieved sigh escaping him as he slumped tiredly in the bed.

“Bilbo, I need to apologize.” Thorin began, causing the halfling's gaze to fly up to meet his. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I know we made our peace on the battlefield but I want to amend what I said back then.”

“What are you talking about?” The burglar questioned, confusion shining in his eyes. “You only said those things because you thought you were dying. The letter you sent me clearly had undertones of lingering resentment.”

“That is not true.” Thorin argued, keeping his voice even so as not to frighten the smaller being. “I had wished to apologize the moment I came back to my senses but we had a battle to fight at the time so I was unable to. My wording in the letter I sent may have seemed somewhat irritated but that is only because I was unable to find the right words I wished to express to you. I wanted to ask you to return to Erebor but I was afraid you were still upset over everything I'd done and would refuse my offer. I wanted to tell you how much you meant to me, how much you still mean to me, but I was a coward. I am so sorry I hurt you, it seems that is all I'm able to do, but I never once hated you. Bilbo, will you accept my apology and remain here in Erebor? I'll understand if you don't want anything to do with me but...”

Thorin's rant was cut short as he felt a small hand latch onto his tunic and pull him down moments before the hobbit's lips met his in a tentative kiss. He couldn't believe what was happening! Could Bilbo have forgiven him that easily. As the two pulled away from each other the dwarf caught sight of the blush on the smaller male's face and decided that it was a very Bilbo thing to do. His One didn't have a mean bone in his body, well, not unless you had insulted him or done something to those he considered family... then you never know what he's capable of.

Bilbo bit back a gasp, unwilling to draw attention to himself after what he'd just done. Why? Why did he have to go and kiss Thorin like that? He blamed the pain medication he was on. Yes, that was it. It's the only reason he would have so easily abandoned his hobbit sensibilities like he had. But hearing his love say that he'd never hated him... it was too good to be true. He'd spent so many hours dreaming about what it would be like to return to his family of dwarrow and be accepted by all, especially the one he loved so much, but he'd never expected it to become a reality. He was certain that the king would send him away. He knew Thorin would never do anything to hurt the children but he'd had so many doubts pertaining to himself. Now though, those doubts had all been cleared away leaving him physically and emotionally exhausted.

“Thank you, my love” He murmured as sleep overtook him, not even realizing the words he'd spoken. “I've missed you.”

Thorin's head snapped up as he was brought out of his musing, a wave of warmth washing over him as Bilbo's words registered in his rattled brain. His One forgave him and what's more... he still held feelings for him! Right then and there the normally stubborn dwarf swore a vow to the Valar that he would not squander this second chance. He would do all in his power to make sure his Hobbit had a happy life surrounded by the ones who loved him.

'Bilbo, ghivashel, I love you more than all of the treasures in Erebor.' Thorin admitted to himself as he took the hobbit's hand gently in his and raised it to his mouth, planting a tender kiss on the back of it. 'I can't tell you that yet though. The time isn't right. First I want to court you properly and when the time finally comes I will tell you it as many times as it takes for you to believe it. I will never again let gold or riches come between us... this I promise you.'

With that thought firmly implanted in his head Thorin took his leave, swiftly heading to his office where he sat down and began to sketch... he had a courting bead to design.

Chapter Text

The next time Bilbo awakens Thorin is nowhere to be found. To be honest he was a little disappointed, the hobbit was hoping that his dwarf would have been there, a silent pillar of support as he rested and regained some of his strength. He knew that was a selfish thought but after everything that had happened in the last half a year he really didn't want to be on his own. Still, Thorin was King Under The Mountain and that title didn't come without responsibilities. Wherever he was Bilbo was certain that his stubborn dwarf was hard at work.

He was just about to try and get up to fetch himself a cup of tea when Oin walked through the door with a dwarf he didn't recognize. The two were deep in conversation but immediately broke off as the healer noticed him attempting to rise.

“What do you think you're doing!?” The older being shouted, causing Bilbo to startle which in turn led to him wincing in pain as it pulled at his various injuries. “I just got you stabilized yesterday afternoon and here you go trying to undo all my hard work. If you keep this up you're likely to tear your stitches.”

The medic moved over to the bed, gently but firmly pushing his patient back down on the mattress before undoing the bandages so as to get a look at the damage.

“You're lucky, lad.” He commented as Bilbo bit back a biting retort at being manhandled. “If we hadn't come in when we did I would be needing to redo about half of these.”

“I'm sorry Oin, I was just going to make some tea.” The halfling confessed, earning a disbelieving look from his friend and a chuckle from the unknown dwarrow.

“Tea? That's what you were willing to risk you're life for?” The gray haired male stated, so quietly that he probably couldn't hear himself say it. “If I didn't know you better, Bilbo, I'd say you'd gone of your rocker.”

“Well I don't know, Oin.” A somewhat more feminine voice spoke up. “From what I know of hobbits I'd say he's long past that if he was willing to traipse halfway across Middle Earth not once, mind you, but twice and face all that held in store.”

The other dwarf drew closer and now the ring-bearer could see a startling resemblance to the company's leader. With her long, dark hair, piercing eyes, and intimidating presence she could nearly be mistaken for him. There was no doubt in his mind that this must be Dis, the sister of Thorin and mother of Fili and Kili. He could definitely see where the boys got their mischievous side, judging by the teasing he'd just witnessed.

“My name is Dis, but from the look on your face I can see that you've already guessed that.” She said, moving to sit on the edge of his bed as the healer took his leave. “Don't get me wrong about what I just said, I meant no offense. It's just that normal hobbits wouldn't even think of stepping one foot outside their cozy Shire, much less help a band of dwarves reclaim their home from a dragon.”

“No offense taken, in fact you're quite right on that matter.” He declared, confusion lighting his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on. “I hope you don't find this rude but... why are you here exactly?”

“Oh, it's perfectly fine.” The princess reassured, patting him gently on his uninjured arm. “I knew from the moment Thorin and my sons first spoke of you that you must be someone truly remarkable so, of course, I just had to come meet the halfling that has stolen my brother's heart. Could you blame me for wanting to know more about you?”

The burglar thought on it for a few moments before slowly shaking his head.

“No, no I suppose not.” He declared. “In truth, if it were my kin, I would want to know everything about them just as you do.”

He got a beaming smile in return for his words and realized that, yes the princess could be intimidating and seemed rather fierce in her own way, but she was also someone Bilbo could call a friend and was glad to get to know. They sat there talking for the rest of the morning. Dis, it turns out, was an excellent cook and had prepared a homemade brunch for them before she'd met up with Oin. She was extremely intelligent as he came to learn over the course of their conversation and it was somewhat uncanny, the female dwarf seemed to understand what he was thinking at times even without him saying a word. Maybe that was just a mothers intuition though, after all, Belladonna had been very similar to the dwarrowdam when it came to stuff like that. When lunch time rolled around Dis took her leave but before she walked through the doorway she turned and looked over her shoulder, a warm expression on her face.

“I think you'd best get some rest, Mr. Baggins.” She declared, smiling knowingly as Bilbo frowned at being called by his surname. “I suspect you'll be getting some more visitors around suppertime. I know of four lovely children who have been very eager to see you.”

With that the dwarf was gone, leaving a tender smile on Bilbo's face at the thought that he'd finally get to see his boys.

Several hours later a noise came from the door and drew the halfling from the peaceful recesses of sleep. It took a few moments to register what had woken him but then a wide smile graced his features as the tiny head of his nephew peaked through the barely open door. Sam, Merry, and Pippin soon joined Frodo and Bilbo couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at the humorous sight they made as they all peered into his room. Upon seeing his uncle awake the black haired faunt's eyes widened in excitement and he rushed through the doorway, jumping up on the bed before burying his face in the older male's shoulder. Their reunion was soon interrupted as the other three fauntlings joined them but that didn't matter as all five hobbits held tight to one another.

“I was so worried about you boys.” Bilbo whispered as he clung to his children. “What would I have done if something happened to you?”

“We're okay, we were worried about you too but Uncle Thorin said you'd be okay so that made us feel better.” Frodo commented, causing Bilbo to raise an eyebrow at the dwarrow who had just entered the room.

“Uncle Thorin?” He mouthed, humor shining in his green eyes.

The king shrugged before a soft smile found it's way onto his face. Shaking his head in amusement, Bilbo turned his attention back to the smaller halflings.

“So lads, what have you all been up to, huh?” He asked, curious as to what the tykes had been doing for the last few days.

“We've been having fun with Fili and Kili.” Meriadoc answered, a full blown smile filling his little face.

“They've been teaching us a lot of fun pranks!” Peregrin exclaimed innocently, nearly vibrating with excitement.

Bilbo nodded and patted the two youngsters on the head but internally... he was screaming. These two didn't need any advice from Thorin's nephews, they already get into enough mischief as it is. With a long-suffering sigh the caretaker turned to the only child who had yet to speak.

“And what about you, Sam?” The elder Baggins asked.

“I've been answering Ori's questions on what it's like to be a hobbit.” He stated proudly, a wise glint in his young eyes.

'You'd have thought Ori would have got enough information about hobbits out of me on the journey, not to mention the letters I've written since then. I should have known though, he's a curious as a cat, that one.' Bilbo mused, a good-humored smile on his face.

“When I wasn't doing that me and Frodo where listening to the other dwarves tell stories.” Samwise added.

“Especially the ones about you.” His nephew joined in. “Their versions are a little different than yours, they make you sound even braver! I want to be just like you when I grow up, uncle Bilbo.”

With tears threatening to fill his eyes, the older male once again pulled his nephew into a warm embrace. He was so thankful that they had all made it to their destination safely, even after all the obstacles that had barred their way. If he would have lost even one of these boys the formerly respectable hobbit would have been beside himself. It was inconceivable to think of a life with one or more of the lads missing from it. Now though, he would never have to worry about such a thing again. They were safe and would remain so from now on thanks to Thorin and the rest of his adopted family of dwarrow. Fear of rejection still coursed through Bilbo's veins when thinking of the dwarven king but it was a lot duller than it had been before they'd spoken. More so than that, he felt the same friendship and love that he'd once held bubble to the surface along with an infinite amount of gratitude for all that Thorin has done for him and his faunts. As he looks over toward the aforementioned dwarf he is met with a tender smile and kind eyes and Bilbo can't help but have hope, even as doubts fill his mind, that maybe they could go back to the way things once had been before the gold sickness took his love away from him.

For the rest of the afternoon Bilbo was content to watch the young ones play and run around his room. The small group had been joined by Kili, Fili, and Dis about an hour after Thorin had arrived and the hobbit was extremely happy to see the two pranksters again. Suddenly a cry sounded and Bilbo whipped his head around trying to locate where it originated. Pippin was sitting on the floor holding his knee, upon closer inspection the ring-bearer could tell that it had been skinned as there was a little blood leaking from the wound. Making to rise he felt a strong hand clamp onto his shoulder, effectively holding him in place.

“You are not strong enough yet. If you try to stand you will only fall and end up worrying the boys further. Rest for now, save your strength, there will be plenty more skinned knees for you to deal with in the future.” A deep voice told him and he sent a glare over his shoulder at Thorin, even as tears of frustration began to build in his eyes. “Do not give me that look, burglar, you know I'm right.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, the fifty-two year old curled up on his side as Dis began herding the children and her sons from the room, Peregrin securely nestled in her arms. She could tell that her brother and the hobbit needed time to talk in peace without the distraction of youngsters racing about. Thorin sent a grateful nod in the dwarrowdam's direction before moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Bilbo, what's wrong?” He asked, running a hand through the hobbit's curls. “This isn't just because of what happened a moment ago, I know you better than you think and you would never let such a minor occurrence upset you so.”

Sniffling lightly, Bilbo glanced up through his eyelashes at his beloved dwarf. Thorin was being so gentle, so tender, now but what if that changed? What if he did something to anger the dwarrow like he had back then? Would he be banished all over again? Taking a deep breath the hobbit decided it was time to face his fears and the only way to accomplish that was to talk about them.

“Ever since I left this place I haven't felt whole... like I'd left something behind in the mountain.” He began as Thorin listened intently, blue eyes blazing in the dim light. “I tried to fill the gap it left but no matter what I did it always remained. The time spent with you and the rest of the company were the best days of my life. I forged so many close bonds and grew to love you all dearly... one even more so than the rest.”

Here he shyly met the king's gaze. There was no sign of rejection present so, taking a deep breath, he resumed his tale.

“You gave me wings, Thorin, you helped me fly. Without you I would have wasted away my life in the Shire. True, it might have been safer...” He giggled slightly as he thought back on all they'd been through together. “But I realize now how very dull it was.”

“Bilbo...” Thorin began, only to be cut off as said hobbit shook his head.

“Let me finish, you stubborn dwarf.” He bid, knowing that if he didn't get this out now he never would have the courage to. “A...after that whole debacle with the Arkenstone I, well, I truly believed I would never see you again. I returned home and tried to go on with my life, but it wasn't the same. I was grounded, like a bird without wings, all I longed for was to fly again but I couldn't... it was no use.”

Tears began falling from his emerald eyes and he could no longer meet the dwarf's gaze. He curled up even further, trying to make himself as small as possible as he buried his face in his arms. When he spoke again his voice was muffled and frantic but the company's leader was still able to make it out.

“I love you, Thorin.” A small sob escaped the confines of the hobbit's arms. “I have for a long time and I can't hold it back any more. You've been acting so kind since I awoke here but what will happen if I do something wrong? I want the wings you'd once promised me but I can't go through the pain again. I wouldn't survive having them torn away a second time!”

He paused, glancing up briefly at the dwarf's face. Upon seeing the anger there he let our a little squeak and hid his face once more.

“I know you're probably repulsed by this.” Bilbo continued, never realizing that it was not him that the king was angry at, but himself. “You may have opened your mountain to us but that doesn't mean you have these same feelings. I just... I can't live anymore keeping everything bottled up inside as I've been doing for the past two years. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... but I love you and these feelings won't go away!”

Bilbo broke off as he felt a firm hand slip under his chin and his head softly being raised. He was about to ask Thorin what he was doing when a pair of lips met his. He gasped, allowing the dwarf to deepen the kiss as his tongue slipped into the hobbit's mouth. With tears trailing down his face, the hobbit closed his eyes and let the fear and anxiety finally wash away as his love pulled him close. Moments later the dwarven leader pulled back and the burglar opened his eyes. He was met with the most tender expression he'd ever seen as his dwarf gazed lovingly at him.

“Bilbo, I have loved you since I first saw you standing in your smial.” He revealed, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “I know I was harsh during the journey but it was only because of how worried I was for your safety. Then you stood between me and Azog and I realized that there was so much more to you than just the soft hobbit I had seen. I can never apologize enough for what I did to you while under the thrall of gold sickness but I can promise you I will never let such a thing happen again. There is nothing you could do that would turn me against you, now or ever.”

Reaching into his pocket, Thorin pulled out the courting bead he had spent over half the day forging, until it had reached a state of perfection, and held it out to the shocked halfling. It was made of mithril with emerald inlaid in the shape of a small hill on one side and sapphire in the shape of a mountain on the other with a dusting of gold connecting them.

“Bilbo, you are my One, and I couldn't stand another day without you by my side.” The older male spoke, voice serious and eyes soft as he fondly watched the smaller being. “You say I gave you wings but you gave me something even more precious... you gave me a home. No, I'm not talking about this mountain. I never realized it until I met you but I'd been lost long before Smaug. With you I am finally where I'm supposed to be and I couldn't be happier than I am when you're here in my arms. So I ask you, Bilbo, will you accept this courting bead and become Consort Under The Mountain?”

The halfling couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only did Thorin return his feelings but he wanted to marry him!? It all seemed too good to be true and before he knew it a large grin had appeared on his face and he found himself embracing the dwarf with as much strength as his injured body would allow. He was still crying, but now it was from the overwhelming happiness coursing through his small form rather than the sadness that had previously been the cause. He felt strong arms wrap around him as he nodded against the broad chest of his dwarf.

“Yes, of course I will!” He exclaimed, joyously, once he'd finally found his voice.

A deep rumble shook through him as Thorin let out a pleased laugh.

“Your hair is longer than I remember, it suits you.” The dwarf complimented and Bilbo looked up to see a large smile gracing the king's face before it grew serious once more as he asked. “Is it alright if I braid in the bead?”

“Of course, Thorin, I'd love that. It's the most beautiful bead I've ever seen and I'd be honored to wear it.” He agreed, before stating truthfully. “I actually haven't cut my hair in about a year, maybe even longer. I realized that I didn't feel right doing so after learning what it means in your culture.”

Thorin gave a hum of appreciation as he began shifting his fingers though the golden curls.

“I did get many a strange look in the Shire though.” The hobbit added as an afterthought, causing his love to chuckle.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, snuggled up talking about everything and nothing, and the next day when the company dropped in for a visit everyone was overwhelmed with happiness for their king and burglar when they spotted the bead carefully woven in amongst his golden curls.

Bilbo soon regained his strength and began learning the ways of the dwarves. There was much he needed to know if he was going to rule alongside his intended so Balin took it upon himself to aid the future consort. It was tough going, especially learning the proper pronunciation of the Khuzdul alphabet, but he powered through and was making great progress.

It was a happy day when word came from the Shire. It turns out that each of the boy's families had survived the attack. In fact there were far fewer casualties than the elder Baggins had expected. The rangers had arrived in the nick of time to prevent the peaceful land from going up in flame and had given their aid wherever it was most needed. With a relief he hadn't felt since Thorin reassured him that he wasn't hated, Bilbo was able to tell Sam, Merry, and Pippin that their loved ones had survived.

Through the use of letters it was decided that the boys would remain in the mountain until the wedding, at which point they would return home with their parents who would be attending the festivities. To say Bilbo wasn't upset over the idea would be a lie but he also knew it wasn't right to keep them from their kin. As the day drew closer the hobbit withdrew into himself, choosing to silently watch his faunts play rather than spend time with his friends and future husband. Thorin saw this and took it upon himself to fix the problem.

The day of the wedding arrived and though Bilbo was filled with intense happiness that he would finally be marrying the dwarf of his dreams there was still that lingering sorrow that his children would be leaving the next day. Their families had arrived the night before and though the ring-bearer had missed them dearly he couldn't bring himself to face them at the time. Instead, Thorin had greeted them and gave them a personal tour of Erebor after showing them to their temporary quarters. Now, however, the ceremony was done and he could see the group of hobbits making their way over to him and the boys. Plastering on his best smile, the ring-bearer took a deep breath as steeled his nerves before greeting them warmly.

The conversation lasted far longer than he'd expected and Bilbo couldn't believe what he' just been told. At some point Thorin had come up beside him and wrapped a supportive arm around his One's shoulders, his mouth morphed into a beaming smile as he watched the wonder on his love's face.

“What are you saying?” The fifty-two year old asked as Thorin drew him closer to his side. “I'm not sure I heard you right.”

“We've decided to stay here, Mr. Baggins, in Erebor.” Hamfast repeated, an amused grin on his kind face. “The little one's love it and I've been told by a very reliable source that the hills around the mountain could use the kind of care only hobbits can provide.”

The other halfling cast a meaningful look towards the dwarven king as he finished and Bilbo turned to his new husband, a look of awe on his face.

“Did you?” He asked, unable to completely voice what he was thinking.

The older male nodded seriously as he placed a gentle hand on his consort's cheek.

“I couldn't stand to see you so upset.” Thorin admitted.

Bilbo wrapped his arms around his love, smiling up at him with tear filled eyes.

“This is the best wedding present you could have given me.” He stated as those gathered around them watched with affectionate smiles.

“Well, ghivashel, you are the consort of the king.” The company leader said, slightly teasingly. “You should expect nothing but the very best from now on because, to me, you are worth more than all the treasures this mountain has to offer.”

The two leaned in, smiling softly as they shared a warm embrace. When he'd seen how troubled his hobbit was Thorin had sent a long and heartfelt letter to each of the children's families, detailing the situation in full and asking if they would be willing to relocate to Erebor. He made sure to express that the hills around the mountain were in desperate need of a hobbit's skill when it came to green things and also told of Bilbo's depression. It had been a long shot, Thorin knew that, but he had to take that chance. Nearly a month later a letter had come from the Shire and he was so very thankful when it contained a positive reply. They had all been willing to move as would a few other hobbits that no longer felt safe within the borders of the Shire. He had debated telling Bilbo at the time but decided to keep it a secret, never really feeling that the time was right. Now though, he leaned down and kissed his beloved's head as the smaller male looked up at him with tender eyes and he knew he'd made the right decision. He would do anything for this small creature who had captured his heart. If a few more hobbits roaming his halls kept that brilliant smile on his One's face, well then, that was a price he would gladly pay.