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The Hobbit of Ered Luin

Summary:

Gerontius Took is on a search for his missing grandson.

Notes:

My fill for the Runaway/Homeless prompt. I do like the whole "Thorin finds wee!Bilbo and takes him in as his own" trope, so I couldn't resist.

Also, the child abuse is implied. And as I said, I REALLY played with the timeline here. Don't mind me.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Gerontius Took was an old hobbit, a Thain even, but he was still a Took through and through. So, if there was any adventuring that needed to be done, he would do it, no matter how much his aching bones would complain or how easily he tired. No one else would do it, save his family, but when it came to certain adventures, he didn’t trust anyone else for the job.

And when it came to his own grandson, he only trusted himself.

He had no idea how long he had been missing, thanks to those Sackville-Bagginses. And as soon as he managed to find someone willing and able to fill his seat for a while, he was off.

He found himself in Ered Luin, a home for men and dwarves (though mostly for dwarves). He had known men, but only had the rare… pleasure… of meeting a dwarf or two. It wasn’t a horrible experience in the slightest, just… enlightening.

He had no idea how the Green Lady could stand having Aulë for a husband, if these dwarves were anything like him.

The Thain asked around, trying to push past the residents’ initial shock at seeing a hobbit, and finally managed to get a good lead. A smith that lived there. One who once lived in a lone mountain in the east, and had arrived with his sister who bore two rather rambunctious sons.

He found their home, a small place quite close to the smithy, and he knocked on the door instead of doing what he wanted and breaking it down.

“Just a moment!”

Gerontius huffed a little, already anxious. He needed to find his grandson, for Eru’s sake! A dwarf can polish his axe once he was done interrogating him.

The door was pulled open, and he swallowed at the sight of the dwarf. He was rather tall for one, and his beard was quite short despite the streaks of gray in his hair. The moment they locked eyes, he saw the dwarf tense. Clearly, he had seen a hobbit in a place where hobbits rarely trekked.

There was hope, then.

“Can I help you?” The dwarf asked, straightening a little and making a better door than his actual one.

“Yes, I believe you can.” Gerontius stated, chin tipped up and puffing his chest. “Are you Thorin Oakenshield, by any chance?”

“Why do you ask?” Dwarves, it seemed, were rather secretive people. They answered questions with questions, and the Thain wished that he really wouldn’t.

“I am Gerontius Took, Thain from the Shire, father of Belladonna Took, and grandfather to Bilbo Baggins.” He answered, wringing his hands. “My grandson, you see, is why I’m here, Master Dwarf. You see, it recently came to my knowledge that he disappeared into the night some months ago, and since then, I have been searching for him. I have asked around, and those I’ve questioned have lead me here.”

Something glinted in the dwarf’s eyes, then. “So you’re Bilbo’s grandfather.”

“Indeed.” He responded. “Have you seen him? Do you know where he is? Is he alright?”

He watched as the dwarf’s hands flexed and he worked his jaw. “I am indeed Thorin Oakenshield.” He finally answered after a short pause. “And I have seen your grandson.”

The anxiety that had dwelled in Gerontius’s heart faded a great deal at those words. “Oh, good. Where is he?”

Thorin straightened even more, if that were possible. “I think you should come in.” He said, instead of telling him what he wanted to know. “This conversation should take place indoors.”

The Thain worked his own jaw, because he wasn’t proper like a Baggins, nor as calm as a Brandywine. But he would do as the dwarf asked of him, if only to see his grandson again. “Very well.”

Thorin then stepped aside, and Gerontius walked in. As the door shut, he took in his surroundings. They were rather modest, with hardly any décor. The walls were gray, and he could easily see the kitchen from the sitting room, where the dwarf escorted him.

“Sit, please.” And the Thain did, even though every instinct he had screamed at him to fight this dwarf. Thorin followed suit, sitting in an armchair across from him, leaning forward and folding his hands underneath his chin. From the hard look in the dwarf’s eyes, this wasn’t going to be a pleasant encounter.

“Well?” He finally asked, and the dwarf twitched before lowering his hands.

“How long ago was it, did you say, that you came across the knowledge that Bilbo was missing?”

Gerontius blinked. “I… As I said, it was a few months ago.” He answered. “His parents passed away, and he had been placed under the care of some relatives of his, the Sackville-Bagginses. They had only told me recently. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Thorin sat back, face surprising calm. “Then it is true, what they say about hobbits and their families.”

The Thain frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Well, they truly are so big that you can easily lose track of any of them.” Thorin answered, and Gerontius saw red. “Clearly, that has to explain why you have only came across this knowledge-.”

“How dare you!” Gerontious roared, shooting up from his seat. “How dare you insult me, insult my people, without even knowing-!”

Bilbo Baggins left the Shire more than just a few months ago!” Thorin bellowed right back, and Gerontious stilled, for the rage burning in the dwarf’s eyes struck fear in his heart. The dwarf took a few deep breaths, and during that time, the Thain managed to absorb what it was he had said.

“What do you mean ‘more than a few months’?”

Thorin stared up at the Thain, eyes still full of anger, but now he didn’t fear instant death. “Bilbo Baggins is safe, and he has been under my care for over nine months.” He explained. “The Shire, I’ve heard, is quite a distance away. What his relatives told you was a bald-faced lie.”

Gerontius collapsed onto the couch he had rose from not moments before, static in his ears as the realization hit him. Bilbo had been gone for almost a year, a whole year, and his relatives did nothing. Didn’t even notice he had gone. He had noticed, of course, but it was far too late, then. Even then, it took many weeks of prying and shouting to finally get them to reveal the truth.

“They always tried to keep him from me.” He admitted to Thorin. “They were bitter, you see, for they could not take Bag End, Bilbo’s parents’ home, for their own. They thought I could have some say. And yes, I could wheedle my way in to see him, but… I should’ve known sooner. I should’ve known before the children started asking about him.”

They sat there in silence, Thorin’s anger slowly easing, and Gerontius trying to will his tears away.

“You must think ill of me for how blind I’ve been.” The Thain finally spoke. “I have many grandchildren, you see, and while Bilbo is my favorite, he is also the one who lives farthest away. And his relatives… refuse to have anything to do with the Tooks, since my daughter married Bilbo’s father. I had to travel to see him, and well… I am rather old, Mister Oakenshield, as you can see.”

“Yet you travelled this far.” Thorin rebutted, but there wasn’t much heat in it.

The smile he gave the dwarf didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d do anything for Bilbo, in order to make sure he is happy, and that he is safe.” He countered. “And it was quite a struggle to even get here. I highly doubt I could’ve travelled much further.”

Thorin seemed to nod, and Gerontius could tell that, while hard, he could accept such an answer.

“How is he?” He asked after another moment’s pause. “Might I see him?”

Thorin merely stood, walking over to his kitchen towards a window that looked out the back. He tilted his head, and the Thain stood to travel, the weariness settling in and making it a bit of a struggle to hobble over to stand next to the tall dwarf.

What he saw caused his breath to catch.

There were three dwarves out back, in a small patch of grass. One, who seemed even larger than Thorin and much more intimidating, was sitting off to the side, tending to his axes as he watched the others with a smile. The other two, much younger in comparison, were rolling around in the grass, laughing and growling in play.

The forth figure with them, however, was the cause for Gerontius’s frozen breath.

It was Bilbo, his grandson, and he was in the arms of the young, raven-haired dwarf. His laughs and squeals were the loudest and highest. The raven-haired dwarf sat up with him in his lap, nuzzling his hair and ears and causing Bilbo to squirm around, only to face the dwarf so he could better hug his neck and kiss his cheeks.

While he looked so very different, with dwarven clothes and hair that clearly hadn’t been trimmed since he arrived, he looked very happy. Happier than Gerontius had ever seen his grandson since his parents had passed. And this affection, Bilbo’s open hugs and kisses, and how he welcomed such embraces in kind. That had not been since for quite a while as well. Even with him, after Belladonna’s and Bungo’s deaths, Bilbo would always flinch away when he would try to hug him. When anyone tried.

It was clear that Bilbo had healed more in several months than he ever did in the three years he stayed with the Sackville Bagginses. And when he saw Bilbo’s tunic ride up his back, Gerontius was hit with the horrible realization as to why.

There were scars on Bilbo’s back. They had faded a great deal, but they were still there, shining oddly against his skin. They looked like lashings, as if someone took something whip-like to the boy.

Gerontius almost wept again. He truly was blind.

“A few months after I had taken Bilbo in as my own, he had tried to get himself a glass of milk.” Thorin told Gerontius, even as they continued to watch him play with the dwarves. “He had tripped, and dropped the milk, causing the bottle to break and the milk to spill onto the floor. I was home, at the time, and when I rushed in to make sure he wasn’t hurt… Well, I had never seen a child so afraid in all my life. And I have seen quite a bit, Mister Took.”

Despite holding it in, the Thain felt hot tears spill from his cheeks. “I knew that the Sackville-Bagginses didn’t quite… but I could hardly imagine…” He whispered. “You must understand, Mister Oakenshield, that such behavior is greatly frowned upon in the Shire. Yes, we believe in punishment, but we would never dream of causing a fauntling harm.”

He rounded on the dwarf, pressing his lips together. “You have my word that once I return to the Shire, they will be punished.”

While he nodded, Thorin seemed to stiffen. “So you will be taking him back with you?”

Gerontius wanted to. Bilbo was his grandson, after all. He did not know this dwarf, even though it seemed that he took great care of him, and the others did as well. And they clearly grew fond of him. Took him in as their own.

“Well, he is not your own by blood.” He replied. “Surely, you have your own life. Your own family. I do not wish for any more strain on someone I hardly know. If he has become… a burden, then-.”

“Bilbo is not a burden.” Thorin cut in, voice tight as he crossed his arms tightly. “He… the two playing with him are my nephews, and their sister lives not far from here. Dwalin, there, is my greatest friend, and Bilbo’s greatest protector. They all love him dearly… I love him dearly…”

Gerontius saw how Thorin’s own eyes glistened in the dim light of his home.

“Despite what you might think, he is like a son to me.” He continued. “I will not like it, but if you must… If you feel it is right…”

“There is only one person in the Shire that could rightly take care of him. His Took family has many children already, and his Baggins relatives… they don’t treat him with the kindness he deserves.” The Thain cut in. “I am much too old to take care of a fauntling again.”

The Thain dug into his waistcoat, trying to pretend he didn’t notice the open hope in Thorin’s eyes.

“I would ask this of you, Thorin Oakenshield.” He continued. “If I were to give you custody of Bilbo, to make him your guardian, I ask that you bring him to visit the Shire. I do not want him to forget it, nor do I want him to only have bad memories of his… other home. Nor do I never want to see my grandson again.”

“And the Sackville-Bagginses?”

“He will never have to see them again.” The Thain stated, perhaps a little more firmly than was proper, but any thought of them at that moment made him wish he were younger, and that he knew how to properly use a blade. “What say you, then?”

Thorin’s eyes were bright when he nodded shortly. “You have my word.” He answered, voice cracking. “And the word of a dwarf is as firm and unmoving as stone.”

The Thain nodded. “Very well.” He said as he pulled a piece of folded parchment from his pocket. “I will, of course, be staying for a while. To make sure that Bilbo will truly be happy here. Also, this is the deed to Bag End, the home that his parents left him. It is his now, and whenever he visits with his new family, they all can stay there. I’m sure that there will be plenty of room.”

Warily, Thorin took the parchment. “Thank you.” He replied. “And that is… agreeable.”

“Good!” Gerontius exclaimed. “Now, how do we get back there? I wish to see my grandson properly!”

Thorin gave him a watery smile, placing the parchment on the counter without a second glance before leading him to a door that lead to the back.

“Papa Thorin!” The Thain heard Bilbo call as they entered the yard, and those words warmed his heart. “Papa Thorin, Kíli’s trying to teach me about tree-shaggers. What’s a tree-shagger?”

Gerontius laughed before he could stop himself, even as Thorin narrowed his eyes at the raven-haired dwarf that was currently braiding Bilbo’s hair.

“What?” Kíli asked. “He asked!”

“Kíli…” Thorin growled, though there wasn’t much heat in his voice, but the blonde dwarf stood, frowning.

“Uncle, who is that?” He asked, and Gerontius shuffled around Thorin. Truly, dwarves were ridiculously large, sometimes.

“Hello, Bilbo, my dear boy.” He greeted, and his face hurt with the force of his smile upon seeing Bilbo’s face light up.

“Grandpa!” He squealed, launching himself away from the dwarf and into the Thain’s waiting arms. “Oh, grandpa, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, my boy.” Gerontius whispered, nuzzling Bilbo’s head, and oh, it had been so long since he held his grandson. “I’m so glad I found you.”

“Why is he here?” The Thain looked at Kíli as the young dwarf spoke, seeing him glare and tense, ready to fight.

“Now, Kíli…”

“I am here, Mister Kíli,” He cut Thorin off, adjusting his hold on Bilbo slightly. “To properly meet my grandson’s new family. Do you wish to fight that?”

“Ah… N-No…” Kíli breathed, and the blonde smiled brightly as the larger one moved from his seat to stand near Thorin.

As the large dwarf spoke with Thorin in a peculiar tongue, he felt a little tug on his hair, and he smiled at Bilbo’s curious face.

“You mean you’re not here to take me back to the Shire?” He asked, and well, that thought didn’t occur to him.

“Originally, yes. But you seem very happy here, and these dwarves seem to love you far too much to let you go.” Gerontius replied. “But I will let you decide. Alright?”

There was a long, tense silence at those words, and everyone’s eyes were fixed on Bilbo as he seemed to think on it.

After a moment, Bilbo looked up at Thorin, at his “papa”. “Can we still visit the Shire?”

“Of course, my little flint.” Thorin breathed, and the Thain didn’t fight it when the dwarf took Bilbo into his arms. “Anything you want, I will give you.”

“Is it alright then?” Bilbo asked, and Gerontius could hear the shy tone in his small voice. “That I stay?”

“I meant what I said before, that you are welcome to stay for as long you want.” The dwarf replied, pressing his forehead to Bilbo’s. “And we all love you, Bilbo. We want you to stay.”

Gerontius smiled as Bilbo did the same, and he saw how his grandson clung to Thorin tightly.

“I want to stay with you, papa.” He heard Bilbo mutter into the dwarf’s shoulder, and no, he did not notice that Thorin let out a small sob, nor that his eyes were reddening as he tightened his hold on the small hobbit. The other dwarves surrounded them, then, and Gerontius watched as they cooed and cheered around both Thorin and Bilbo.

Gerontius would still stay, for a while at least, just to make sure that this setup was right for Bilbo. But he had a feeling he already knew that it would be.

“But really, papa, what is a tree-shagger?”

Notes:

I'm not gonna lie, I got a little teary when I wrote this. I don't want to write sad/angsty/hurt characters anymore... I WANNA WRITE FLUFF FOR THE NEXT PROMPT, DARN IT!

1940s/WWII... ARGH!!!

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