Kili woke, panting, to have his mother fuss over him and his brother sit and sharpen his swords on the chair adjacent to his bed.
"Are we dead?" were the first words out of his mouth, prompting his brother to laugh and his mother to look at him strangely.
"Are you trying to be funny? You are about to leave on a quest, not go to the Halls. Don't be stupid." And for that, Dis smacked him right on his head.
"Ow," he whined, rubbing his head gently.
"Now come on, you have a few more arrows to make before you leave." She left the room, and Kili was left wondering what was going on.
"Fee, are you sure we aren't dead?" He said curiously to his brother.
"What in Mahal's name makes you say that?" His brother replied, plagued by what Kili was asking him but not wanting to show it.
"Nothing," Kili dismissed. "Just a dream I had, that's all."
Pictures began to flash over his eyes, things that looked like memories. Of a hobbit burglar, of a beautiful elf in the Mirkwood Forest, of a sharp pain in his leg, of the elf again, this time letting off a bright white light as she brought him back from the dead.
Of his uncle falling to the gold sickness, the one that he knew had plagued his father and his grandfather. Of his brother falling limply in front of him, blood staining the front of his armour and of his tunic.
Are these the events that are about to come to pass? Did he just have a vision of the future?
He shook his head wildly before crawling to the side of the bed. He wasn't having visions of anything. That was just his brain coming up with what it thought was about to happen.
He reached over, flailing wildly for any hint of his quiver, but with no luck. He flopped down on the bed, and would have gone to sleep again if it wasn't for his mother dumping his quiver and knife on his face, the arrow's going everywhere.
"Maaaaaa," he groaned. "I worked ages on them."
"Well, you should have been up long ago to work on them, just like your brother did with his swords. Now get to work, you need to be off and running by the time the sun is in the middle of the sky." For the second time that day Dis left him and his brother alone in a room that would cease to be their bedroom from the moment they stepped out the front door and waved goodbye to their mother. This was it.
But the memories were still there, the ones he didn't even remember making. The ones where the company became his family, where a large dwarf named Bombur caught the egg in his mouth at the Burglar's house and the time where another dwarf named Bofur whittled each member a bead because there wasn't any access to a mine or a forge or anything.
The Burglar. Now what was his name? Kili pondered over it for a second, turning over possibilities in his head. Bluebell? Bella?
But that thought didn't last long, as he shook it out quickly. This was just a dream, why do you care so much about your imaginary burglar's name? He looked down at the fletching in his hand, and began to cut and shape them, making them ready to be combined with his arrows before his mother had his braids for his laziness.
He had long finished when Thorin entered the house, wanting to see what his favourite nephews were up to.
"We're your only nephews uncle," Fili called back, which made Kili smile. This friendly banter, this was normal, and it helped to calm his nerves a bit. After finishing the arrows this morning, that was when it really started to sink in that this wasn't a normal day. He was about to leave home for just over a year, to not get those creature comforts that he was so used to. Things like his mother's cooking and an actual bed. He'd miss these things most.
The dream from last night was still playing over and over in his head, and he wondered if maybe he should tell Thorin about it, talk to him, even if it was nothing at all, and it was just a story his brain made up.
But why trouble his uncle with something as unimportant as the dream he had the night before. It was just that, only a dream.
"Now, I am just here to give you both some warning. We are meeting the Company in the courtyard at…" Thorin droned on for a while and Kili immediately tuned out, knowing his brother would do the listening for him. Surprisingly, his mother noticed that he was daydreaming out the window, but decided not to mention it, instead tears glossing over her eyes.
"Will we get to know the names of the members of our company, Uncle?" Fili inquired.
"I feel that they should be able to introduce themselves when you get there. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go and find a man who wants to sell me some ponies."
"Wait Uncle," Kili exclaimed on impulse.
"What is it Kili?"
"Is there a dwarf named Bofur in our company?" Kili asked timidly.
"Why yes, actually. How did you know that?" Thorin questioned, a look of confusion adorning his features.
"His whittlings skills precede him." Kili said definitively, after much consideration.
"Very well." Thorin felt there was something off there, something Kili wasn't telling him. Yes, Bofur was a whittler, but he was a miner by trade, and whittled for friends or family. There was another way that Kili knew Bofur, there had to be.
It better not be courting, or god help that poor dwarf.
When the sun reached the middle of the sky, in synchronisation all of the dwarves of the company began to arrive in the middle of the courtyard, where Thorin had arranged for them to meet.
Bofur, strangely enough, was first, followed by his brother Bombur and his cousin Bifur. Then was the Brother's Ri, Dori, Nori and Ori, who were then followed by Oin, Gloin, Balin and Dwalin. Fili and Kili were the last to arrive, which Thorin found quite typical of the line of Durin.
There were the pleasant introductions all around, except for Kili, who did something quite unexpected and definitely out of line for his personality. He stood at the back. Both Fili and Thorin were quite taken aback by this, as it was more like him to come barging to the front and to demand attention. But, instead he stood quietly, spoken only when spoken to, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
Something was definitely going on here.
Kili, on the other hand, now knew that that dream was no dream. Each and every dwarf that had once accompanied him on his travels was now here, right in front of him, all of the company bar the burglar.
That was why, this morning, he couldn't get the thought of not knowing the name out of his head. This burglar, Kili was going to meet him in the next month, where they all arrive periodically. The food fight, his hesitance to join the company's pursuit in fear of leaving what he knows, and to a lesser extent, the dragon itself.
He was no burglar in the beginning, but he was at the end, and maybe that's what counted here. His heart was in the right place. Thorin, his brain supplied, and that was probably right. He could easily recall the glances that they shared, the ones that lingered a bit longer than they should have, where Thorin and Bilbo…
Bilbo! That was the burglar's name. Bilbo Boggins. Probably. It was close enough at least.
He focused back on the scene in front of him, where Thorin was giving an inspiring speech to the group to motivate them, or something along the same line. This wasn't something Kili needed to pay attention to particularly, instead choosing to focus on the dwarves he didn't know he had been missing his entire life.
This was it, he thought, It's time to change the future.
Strangely enough, he hated every second of it now.
When he left, his mother had cried for the loss of her remaining family, and there was many emotional goodbyes from the rest of the Companies own families. After that there was the hype of setting off, the one where they were all buzzing on this invisible energy that had infected them all.
Then after that, four days in to be precise, no one would speak to each other outside of their own family groups. This wasn't anything like what had happened in his dream. He remembered things like singing around a fire and throwing plates in the dining room. These memories they acted like comrades, but here they were strangers.
Weirdly enough, he was almost praying for some sort of attack, one where something goes horribly wrong but they all band together to fix it and in the end they all have an increased sense of camaraderie and companionship with each other. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon, so Kili set about doing it the other way. Food.
He still remembered all of their favourite's sweets, the pastries and the scones, the cakes and the brownies. He just hoped that someone else on the other side of the Shire would remember too. And maybe cook them up a feast.
On the other side of the Shire, Bilbo Baggins had also awoke with a start. His head was swimming with memories of the life that he had led, the one where he had grown old and sailed to the Undying Lands.
But here he was, not even fifty, sleeping in Bag End, with a full pantry, no more aching bones and excitement filling his stomach. Something told him that today was the day.
Today was the day that 13 dwarves and a wizard came knocking on his freshly painted green door and asked him to become a burglar, to steal a mountain, to steal a home, back from a dragon that had not been seen in over sixty years, well before Bilbo himself was born. And today was the day that he first laid eyes on Thorin Oakenshield, the only love of his life.
Bilbo remembers this day more than ever, because he got insulted over nothing. What he was to learn was that this was the way that dwarves show affection, through petty insults and curses. What they would come to learn was that this would confuse hobbits beyond measure, and some discussion about cultural differences would definitely take place.
But he was startled out of his thoughts by the realisation that he had nothing to feed them, because god knows how last time went. With the raiding of the pantry leading to an uncooked meal, he would not let them go hungry a second time. This time, he would cook them a decent meal, filled with all of their favourites.
He had not forgotten them, even over all of these long years. He could not, for they were one of the only things left that tied him to his dwarves.
So he got to work, whipping up raspberry tarts and lemon curds for Dwalin, and a peach cobbler for Balin. A bread and butter pudding for Oin, blueberry scones for Gloin. Strawberry ice-cream for Bofur and caramelised banana pudding for Bifur. For Bombur, he made a fresh apple cake, and Ori got himself a triple chocolate cake. For Dori, blackberry and apple upside down cake, and for Nori, lemon bars. Fili and Kili got themselves a batch of chocolate brownies and some chocolate ice-cream and whipped cream to complete it.
And Thorin, well he got old Great-Great-Grandma Baggins' special plum tart, which was only made in special occasions. And god knows he was worth it.
There was also the preparation of a main course, but Bilbo didn't worry about that one now. Those pesky dwarves could handle themselves.
By the time he was pulling the last batch of brownies out of the oven, he heard a knock on the door, three times over. Dwalin was here.
"Master Dwalin I presume? I'm Master Baggins, at your service. If you could please go into the pantry and start getting food out for dinner that would be lovely thank you. Just this way," Bilbo was awful flustered at seeing his old friend just standing there, and attempted to disguise it by acting busy. He hoped it worked, but he couldn't seem to read Dwalin as well as he could a hundred years ago.
But it all worked out okay, because in the next moment, he saw Dwalin sniffing the air. "There wouldn't happen to be raspberry tarts or lemon curds for dessert Master Baggins?" He asked hesitantly.
"Yes there is Master Dwalin, and they're all for you, but only if you help get some food out for dinner. God knows how hard it is to cook for 13 dwarves and a wizard without any help."
Dwalin's smile looked like it could light up the entire Middle Earth, and for a second, Bilbo thought he could see some of the Dwalin he remembered, hidden away in it. But he knew that wouldn't be possible, or else he would have come right out with it. That was just how Dwalin was.
Balin was next, and everything proceeded in an orderly fashion with him, bar the friendly head butt between him and his brother.
But Fili and Kili were different. "Fili," said the first.
"And Kili," said the second.
"At your service," they both bowed in synchronisation.
Fili strode in, his familiar mix of swagger and poise comforting to Bilbo. But Kili, on the other hand, was calm and collected, not like he was at the beginning of the journey. He almost went to wipe the bottom of his feet on his mother's glory box, but something stopped him. Bilbo knew instantly what it was.
He walked over and tugged on Kili's arm, dragging him over to the study and shutting the door behind him.
"I'm sorry," Kili began, but Bilbo cut him off. There was no time for silly things like discretion.
"Do you know what happened last time someone tried to do this 'quest' to Erebor?" Bilbo questioned.
"Do you mean my grandfather or…" Kili trailed off, realising his mistake the moment he finished his sentence.
"The fact you said or means you remember what I remember. Good, that's all I need to know. If you'll excuse me, I have some more dwarves to welcome in."
A weight Kili didn't even know he was carrying suddenly lifted from his chest, making him feel lighter than he had since he woke up the morning he had left for this quest. Bilbo remembered! There was going to be someone who understood his worry, who understood what he was going through, someone who was going through the same thing.
He wasn't alone.