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Bilbo tried to ignore the Dwarves as the group followed Gandalf into the Trolls cave. Because of course they still blamed him for what they went through even after he saved their ungrateful arses afterwards.
He tried to stay away from them, difficult as it was inside the enclosed space. Especially when Gandalf was unfortunately occupied by Master Oakenshield.
So, he wandered the cave. Explored it if you will. Snooped around the least disgusting areas he could, after all their hosts were now profoundly deceased, they wouldn’t mind much.
“YES, AHA!”
The victorious cry startled Bilbo, his tail flicked in irritation when he spotted Master Nori holding a chest of presumably treasures above his head.
He could never really understand it, the celebration of wealth. In all fairness he was born into it, but he was always told there was a difference in Hobbit wealth compared to the other races so it may be that. Maybe he could talk with Master Balin one of these days about it, he seemed an inquisitive fellow.
Although he didn’t understand why the Dwarves around Master Nori were also celebrating the find, he couldn’t help but almost crack a smile at their joy. Imagining it being like that time Gaffer found a carrot the size of his leg.
Wait.
What was that?
He focused hard for a moment, he turned towards the deeper and darker part of the cave and squinted, ears flickering cautiously.
Over time with The Company he came to learn that his hearing was far more advanced than the others. Even with their massive ears they were perhaps more evolved to withstanding loud noises or listening for cave echoes than the sounds of nature and whispers of nosy neighbors.
Perhaps it was just his imagination then, if no one else had heard anything in the small and echoey cave they were in…
Wait.
“Waah”
“Waaah”
His heart leapt to his throat.
His head snapped in the direction of the gurgles, moving before he could even see what he was stepping on, he was too panicked to even care though, he prayed that the sounds weren’t at all what he thought they were.
“Burglar?” He barely heard the Kings voice behind him. He squinted in the darkness and found…
A caravan?
It was a travelling caravan, one that looked incredibly familiar and missing some wheels.
He quickly climbed aboard and searched the storage area, tearing though blankets and pushing aside boxes of slightly rotten vegetables.
But then… he found it.
“Oh Yavanna,” he gasped, “f-food, FOOD I NEED FOOD OVER HERE NOW!”
He spun his head and spotted Master Oakenshield surprisingly at the foot of the caravan. Though he was unable to see what Bilbo found he must have seen the panic in his eyes.
He echoed Bilbo’s cry as a command and soon Bombur was at his side, emptying his pockets with haste.
Bilbo reached down carefully and lifted the lid to the cradle.
Revealing not one. Not two.
But three young children.
All of them Hobbits.
All alone.
All looking up at him, with the biggest and cutest eyes.
Far too skinny, clinging to one another, shaking from either cold or fear.
And when their faces crumpled and tears welled up, his heart shattered even before their wails began. The relieved wails of three tiny children finally found after Yavanna knows they’d been though.
The three little Hobbits, whose lives have once again changed forever.