Banished … Exiled … Under pain of death.
It held a certain finality about it. A very presence which seemed to weigh down on him and made his chest feel as though it was going to cave in at any moment. It was this pain which had driven him onto the battlefield, had driven him to the madness of once again taking on the pale orc with nothing more than his 'letter opener' and his magic ring.
Bilbo found himself rubbing subconsciously at his right thigh, simply thinking about Azog and the battle seemed enough to cause him physical pain. Then again that seemed only fair since the pain in his very soul tortured him all day every day, a pain caused by the knowledge that the family of his soul was on the other side of Middle Earth and he would never see them again.
Never. By the maker it seemed like such a long time, especially since he often found himself gazing into the distance towards the East with the knowledge that his feet would not follow his mind in that direction.
He blinked back tears as he settled himself on his beloved bench in his mothers garden, looking out over Hobbiton. He knew that he should be content, happy even, to have returned to the Shire in, mostly, one piece and with enough riches to live comfortably for the rest of his life. Bilbo however had never been your normal Hobbit, even before going on his adventure he'd been thought of as odd for not wanting to settle down and raise a whole smial full of fauntlings.
Oh it wasn't even as though he had had a lack of pretty Hobbit lasses, or even lads, that had attempted to court him in the three years since he had returned. Having chests full of Dwarvish gold and a few rackish looking scars didn't hurt in making him seem more attractive. And sure it helped to puff up his ego quite nicely every time he was shyly handed a bouquet or wreath of flowers, but unfortunately his preference had changed considerably over the last few years.
Instead of the soft bodies and curly hair of the Hobbits, he now found himself drawn to harsh angles, broad shoulders, and beards. Not that there was much of any, or indeed any, of that in the Shire. Sometimes he considered traveling to the Blue Mountains just to look upon Dwarves again. Then he always remembered that Thorin Oakenshield was not just King Under the Mountain, but indeed the King in Ered Luin as well. His decree that Bilbo be killed on sight probably had extended out this far by now, it was the main reason why he tended to hide in Tookborough whenever he got word that Dwarves were in the Shire.
Ever since Erebor had been reclaimed there had been many caravans of settlers and merchants traveling back and forth along the Great East Road. In fact the mountain folk had made such an impression on the Hobbits, that the Thain was even considering trade with Erebor. Bilbo had done everything he could to be the voice of reason, informing his kin that the Shire surely didn't have anything that the richest of the Dwarf kingdoms could possibly need. Then however word had come that wool, textiles, dried fruit and meats, and herbs were required in Erebor. Apparently the soils of Ered Luin were rocky and frozen, and those around the newly rebuilt Dale had yet to yield anything productive.
More than likely due to the dragon.
Bilbo took a puff of his pipe and exhaled the smoke slowly. He could only hope that Thorin wouldn't punish all Hobbits for the actions of one. Then again the last Bilbo had known, the King hadn't exactly been in his right mind.
"G'morning Mister Baggins." He looked up and found himself smiling at Hamfast Gamgee, his friend and neighbour, standing at his gate.
"Good morning Hamfast," he answered. "And what a lovely morning it is."
"That it is," said Hamfast, leaning against the letterbox. "Spring is definitely in the air."
"And how is that charming wife of yours?"
Hamfast fairly beamed at that, his whole face lighting up with love and awe. "Fine, just fine."
Bilbo couldn't help but feel nothing but overwhelming joy for them, which was a nice change from the hollowness he usually felt. Hamfast's little wife Bell was petite even by Hobbit standards, whereas her husband was as portly and ruddy as any Shireling. When she had gotten pregnant there were many who were concerned for Bell's health. Even though she had made it thus far with very few issues, there was still fear that she would be unable to birth the child. It seemed that none of this had dampened Hamfast's enthusiasm, and Bilbo could only hope everything went well.
Then again if anybody knew what a difficult pregnancy and complicated birth was like it was Bilbo. He shook his head quickly, it did no good to dwell on such things. Looking back at Hamfast, he was horrified to see a knowing look full of pity on his round face. It was times like this that he regretted having gotten drunk at Daisy Proudfoot's birthday last autumn and confessed his greatest of secrets to his oldest of friends.
"Anyway I suppose you're wanting to be by her side in case anything is to happen," he said brightly, though he knew that his friend would see right through it.
"You're quite right of course," said Hamfast, giving the nearest fence post an affectionate pat. "Well I guess I'll be off Mister Baggins."
Bilbo nodded and took another puff of his pipe. "Good day Master Gamgee."
"Good day." Hamfast gave a quick nod of his head and then strolled off down the path whistling all the way.
Well, thought Bilbo, there goes that plan of not thinking about the past.
Two hours after his conversation with Hamfast, and after a hearty elevenses had been consumed, that Bilbo found himself at the markets. He desperately needed to restock his larder for it had been a long winter, and even though there was always mutton and pork to be bought, as well as preserved and pickled fruit and vegetables, it would be nice to have some variety for his supper.
Like every Hobbit who had ever existed, Bilbo found it difficult not to enjoy a good farmers market. There were stalls laden with fish, meat, and the freshest of vegetables, and even one full of baskets of mushrooms which made his mouth water.
One of the best things about the markets was that no one ignored him and there were no whispers about 'mad Baggins' behind his back. This was one of the few places that his wealth gained him respect, there were many willing to pretend to be friendly when it came to money.
Quickly filling his baskets with cheese, sausages, apples, and some lovely bacon from old Rufus the butcher, he soon found himself drifting over to the far end of the markets. Here were the stalls which sold such things as yarn, furniture, clothes, and blown glass.
"Ye interested in jewellery little one?" The voice which interrupted his inspection over a particularly beautiful broach, made his heart all but stop in his chest.
Looking up quickly he found himself staring at the bright red beard, and braided hair of a Dwarf, one that was close enough to Gloin and Oin in appearance that he was clearly a relative of some kind. Thankfully though Bilbo didn't recognize him as one of the Dwarves he had seen when Dain had marched to Erebor's aid.
"It is very lovely," he answered, hoping that the Dwarf wouldn't hear the quaver in his voice.
"Aye," said the Dwarf. "That would be Dwarvan craftsmanship."
Bilbo nodded, turning the broach over in his hand. It was quite a remarkable piece and would be perfect as a birthing gift for Bell.
"How much?" he asked.
"Depends on what you're willing to trade."
Digging into the pocket of his favourite maroon waistcoat, he quickly pulled out the small pouch of coins he had brought with him for purchases.
"Gold," he answered.
The shaggy eyebrows of the Dwarf nearly disappeared into his braids. Bilbo could completely understand his surprise, after all very few Hobbits carried gold.
"Gold?" he asked. "Good quality?"
Bilbo sighed, he had managed to hide his identity thus far from the many wandering merchants, but if he wanted this broach he had to risk being identified.
"The best by all accounts," he answered, removing one of the coins and handing it over.
There was a few seconds of silence and then. "This is Ereborian gold."
"Yes I know," said Bilbo, crossing his arms across his chest defensively.
The Dwarf ran one large finger over the date stamped above the Durin royal crest on the gold. "It was made before the forges were re-fired. From before …" His voice trailed off.
"From before Smaug I would think." Bilbo finished.
"There are rumours," muttered the Dwarf. "Rumours that a Halfling helped retake Erebor, but they're nothing more than rumours."
"I can assure you Master Dwarf they are not," said Bilbo.
"But nobody speaks openly about it." The Dwarf gave him a hard look. "Its all whispers in the dark."
"No I suppose nobody would, not worth their heads I'd say," he said. "Now will you take it as payment for the broach?"
Yes," answered the Dwarf. "Aye I will at that."
"Good." Bilbo placed both his money poach and the broach back into his pocket. "Thank you."
"I suppose not being in contact with Erebor you haven't heard about the Crown Prince's betrothed?"
Bilbo felt his heart give a lurch. Fili was courting and engaged? It was not something he would ever have guessed would happen in all the time he had spent with Thorin's heir whilst they were on the road together.
"Fili is betrothed?" he whispered.
"Aye," answered the Dwarf. "And Prince Kili his beloved was abducted while on a hunting trip in Mirkwood. He is being held for ransom."
"And what is the price?" breathed Bilbo.
"The Arkenstone." Bilbo closed his eyes in despair. "And King Thorin himself."