Bilbo looked over the battlefield one last time before slipping his ring back on and heading for the mountains. He should've gone with the elves, should've gone to see the others, but he knew he was not wanted. He knew Thorin's hate better than most and knew that there was no way on Middle Earth that he was going to be forgiven anytime soon. So he headed home, back to the Shire, with some gold in his pockets, a sword, and a heavy heart.

*Ten Years after the Battle of Five Armies*

Thorin moved ahead of the group as the snow whipped at the sides of his mountain. Even after ten years, he was still getting used to calling it his mountain. But there she was, in all her majesty, as the storm battered her sides. Word had come from Dale that a group of orcs had been spotted on the north side and even in this weather, Thorin was out hunting them. It had been some time since orcs had been brave enough to attack his mountain, at least a year, so this group was even more intriguing. What had drawn the beasts here, when it was clear Erebor was not going to leave dwarf hands anytime soon, Thorin did not know, but he was going to find out.

"No sign of them yet," Balin appeared at his side. "But Dwalin reports he's found signs of at least two travelers and a pony."

"In this weather?" Thorin frowned. "We'd best find them before the orcs do. Let's go find these signs."

It didn't take them long to find the other 11, Dwalin crouched close to the ground as he led the way. Fili moved over as the two drew close, "At least one child and maybe a hobbit is what Dwalin thinks."

A hobbit…..Thorin frowned, hand tightening on the hilt of Orcist. It had been some time since any of them had any contact from the former burglar of their group, but Thorin thought of the little Halfling every day, regretted letting Bilbo go. He'd sent dwarves after him, but he had disappeared. Word came from Gandalf, saying Bilbo was fine, but did not want to have contact with the outside world. He was going back to a Baggin's of Bag End and they do not speak with dwarves, especially those who they thought hated them. Thorin had tried to get Gandalf to tell him where Bilbo was so he could apologize, but Gandalf had said no.

"There is more going on with Bilbo and his mind than even I know and I think it best that for now, we all stay away from the Shire," Gandalf had looked old in that moment, and sad. Thorin had accepted his council and let the Shire be….for now.

"What brings a hobbit so far from their hole?" Thorin frowned, looking out over the quickly worsening weather. "And at such a time?"

"Something dangerous," Dwalin straightened up, smelling something on his fingers. "Blood. And not orc. Whoever is running is injured. And carrying a heavy load. They aren't too far ahead."

"Lets go," Thorin nodded. "Dori, Nori, Bombur and Gloin, you bring up the rear. Watch for the orcs."

Thorin and Dwalin led the way, Dwalin keeping a close eye on the ground, "They're slowing. Not too far now."

And out of the white ahead appeared dark shadows, hunkered down in the open. Thorin held up a hand as he pulled his sword and the others spread out as they slowly approached. The sight that met their eyes was not what they had been expecting. A young hobbit, hood flung off his head, stood facing them. His face was white, the tip of his nose and ears turning blue while his wild dark curl whipped across his face in the wind. He was brandishing a familiar blue-glowing sword, standing in front of a hunched over figure and a frozen looking pony, "S-s-stay back! Y-y-ou won't h-h-hurt us!"

"Easy now, lad," Gloin moved forward, sheathing his ax and holding up his hands, a fatherly look in his eyes. "We don't want ta hurt ya, just help. It's cold out here and the orcs are probably close."

"Stay away!" The boy's voice was high-pitched, so very young, but even though he was shaking he stood strong. "Stay away from my uncle!"

"Calm down, laddie," Balin waved the others to put away their weapons. "Is your uncle hurt? We can help. We're not too far from Erebor."

"We…..we're going to Erebor," the boy looked like he was calming down. "Uncle has friends there."

"He does?" Balin moved a little closer. "Do you know who?"

"F-f-frodo," the being behind the boy gasped out, reaching for the boy. The boy dropped Sting and quickly took the man's hand. "Who…."

"Dwarves, Uncle," the boy said softly. "They want to help."

"Orcs…..orcs n-n-near. W-w-we must g-g-get to Erebor," the older hobbit made to stand, but didn't make it far. Thorin was there, catching the hobbit before he could hurt himself anymore.

"Easy there, we have you," Thorin eased the hobbit back down. "We'll help you and your nephew."

"T-t-thorin?" the hobbit gasped out and Thorin leaned forward to get a good look at the hobbit.

"Bilbo!" Thorin gasped, surprised. He pulled Bilbo close for a hug, but quickly released when he heard Bilbo gasp. "You are hurt. Someone grab the pony and the boy. We need to get them inside."

"T-t-thorin, get F-f-frodo," Bilbo made to stand again, but Thorin kept him down. He could feel the hobbit shivering against him and frowned before shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around the hobbit. He easily scooped up the smaller man and stood. Bilbo didn't even argue, just pulled the coat tight around him. He was pale, the tips of his ears, fingers and toes turning blue. He looked exhausted and older.

"Fili and Kili have him. They're taking him with Gloin to Gloin's quarters. His wife will take good care of him," Thorin led the way back to the gates, saying his part loud enough so the others could hear.

"Y-y-you'll take care of my u-u-uncle?" The hobbit boy called from his perch on Kili's back.

"He will not leave my sight," Thorin promised. "I will personally see that he rests and heals and I will send word for you when I think he is up to seeing you. Good enough?"

"Yes," The boy nodded before burying his head in the fur of Kili's coat. Bombur, Bofur and Bifur were leading the pony, with Dwalin pushing at the creature's rear to help the poor thing along. It looked just as bad off as its traveling companions. Thorin shook his head before glancing at Balin, who was keeping pace at his side, "Find Clara and have her bring me some warm water and healing supplies to my quarters. Also find something warm for Bilbo to wear and something easy for him to eat. Make sure the boys do the same for the nephew. We need to make sure these two get well soon."

Balin glanced down at Bilbo as they drew close to the gates, "Quite the miracle, don't you think? That the week Gandalf is due, the hobbit appears?"

"You can ask him when he arrives," Thorin gave a stiff smile. "Open the gates!"

Thorin gently laid Bilbo down on his bed, the little hobbit still wrapped in the dwarf king's massive coat. The hobbit was shivering just as hard as before, eyes half closed as he watched Thorin move around the room. Thorin quickly changed into warmer clothes before focusing on his charge. Even after ten years, the hobbit was still as stubborn as that first day in the hobbit hole. Even completely frozen and injured, the hobbit was trying to do everything himself. Thorin sighed before he went and sat behind the hobbit, helping him sit up, "I said I would take care of you and I meant it. I even promised your nephew, so please, Bilbo, just try to rest."

"I….I c-c-can do it-t-t-t," Biblo stammered out through chattering teeth, leaning heavily against the dwarf as he tried to undo his cloak. Thorin easily pushed Bilbo's hands aside and quickly undid the clasp and pulled the tattered cloak away, allowing Bilbo's unruly hair to flop down over the hobbit's face and giving Thorin a better view of the hobbit's injuries. As well as his torn up feet, Bilbo had a gash to his shoulder, what looked like a banged up knee and maybe a little frostbite. Who knew what the threadbare clothes were hiding. Thorin took Bilbo's shaking hands in his, rubbing them gently, the coldness of the smaller hands being thawed by the heat radiating off the dwarf.

"I'm sure on a good day you can, but not today," Thorin chuckled a little. "This was not how I was hoping we'd meet again."

"W-w-wasn't planning on c-c-coming," Bilbo pressed closer to Thorin, his shaking easing a little. "G-g-got ambushed o-o-outside Bree. F-f-frodo's p-p-parents were k-k-k-killed. H-h-had to r-r-run."

"That's a long way and sounds like a long tale you can tell me later when I'm positive you won't fall apart," Thorin glanced up as someone knocked on his door. "Enter."

Balin entered first, leading Clara, both holding their respective finds. Balin moved to the bed as Clara set the steaming bowl of water on the bedside table, "How's our burglar?

"Frozen solid," Thorin continued to rub Bilbo's hands as Clara set a bag on the bed.

"Anything else, sir?" Clara looked over the poor little hobbit sadly. Clara was Balin's wife, only just married a few years ago. Although she was a whole lot younger than Balin, the two made a perfect match.

"No, that is all. I'll send for you if I need anything more," Thorin smiled back.

Clara nodded, "I'll go check on his nephew then. I'm sure Diz and Marcy wouldn't mind the help." With that she headed out.

Balin set down a bowl of soup and a pile of clothes, "What needs to be done first?"

"We need to help him get out of his clothes, since he thinks he can do it himself," Thorin finally let go of Bilbo's hands, looking down at the hobbit. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out, "Bilbo?"

"Hm?" Bilbo grunted before opening his eyes a little, looking up at them. Thorin chuckled.

"Stay awake for a little bit. You need to eat something and we need to look at your wounds," Thorin shifted a little, pulling his coat and Bilbo's cloak away. Bilbo shivered a little, but nodded. Together, the three of them (Though mostly Balin and Thorin) got Bilbo down to his boxers. His appearance horrified the two older dwarves. His feet were bloody from cuts, blisters and sores from the long trek here. Some of the wounds even went up his legs a bit. He wouldn't be walking for a while if Thorin had a say at all. His left knee was swollen up a bit. "I think from one of the orc attacks," Bilbo mumbled, shivering less. It just seemed to be bruised, nothing broken or dislocated. There were still healing scars all over his body, telling tales of their own from the journey. His back was scratched up, looking like it was trying to heal. A nasty looking gash across his chest and up over his shoulder still bled a little, pulled open from moving so much. And what seemed to be the start of a cold. Bilbo had tried to argue until he coughed and sneezed again, causing Thorin to pull him close in worry. Balin and Thorin set to work bandaging and stitching and cleaning the poor little hobbit as best they could. He protested a bit at the beginning, but after Thorin pointed out his nephew had been better behaved than him, Bilbo had fallen silent. His skin was warm again and some color was coming back to his cheeks as Thorin helped him pull on some warm clothes while Balin took care of cleaning up. After forcing some soup down Bilbo's throat, Balin took leave of them, leaving Thorin to get the hobbit to rest.

"I need to check on Frodo," Bilbo argued, more lucid now after being cared for. He wasn't trying to stand, having learned from the first try, but he was trying to get Thorin to let him visit his nephew.

"He is fine. I will have word from Gloin by the time you wake, but you need to rest," Thorin growled. He forgot how easily the hobbit wore on his patience. He pushed Bilbo back into the furs and pillows on the bed, causing the hobbit to squeak.

"This is your bed! I can't take it!" Bilbo looked horrified, trying to sit up. Thorin sighed before pushing him back down and lying down next to the hobbit, his arm a heavy weight on the hobbits middle. He used his free hand to pull some furs and blankets over them.

"You can and you will. And I will make sure you rest," Thorin growled into Bilbo's ear. He noticed the little intake of breath from the hobbit and smiled a little before pressing a gentle kiss to Bilbo's cheek, "Get some rest, Halfling. I will be here when you wake."

"Ok," Bilbo whispered. Both were silent for a moment before Bilbo shifted, curling up against Thorin's side, his face buried in Thorin's chest. Thorin sighed and buried his face in Bilbo's hair, breathing in the scent of his hobbit as he pulled him closer.

"I am sorry I cast you out, so very sorry," Thorin whispered, pressing a kiss to Bilbo's head. "I have missed you terribly and regretted my actions every day since. I was going to go after you, but Gandalf advised against it. I do not know what you have gone through these past ten years, but any suffering because of me I am terribly sorry for and wish I could take back."

"Thorin…" Bilbo mumbled, grasping Thorin's free hand with his two as he tried to curl closer to the dwarf king. "There have been many trying times these past ten years, but they are not because of you. While the heartache is your fault, nothing else is. I made decisions on the journey that none of us, not even Gandalf, could see the consequences of. I wish to tell you about it, but I think someone ordered me to sleep."

Thorin laughed at the hobbit's cheekiness, a rumbling deep in his chest, "That I did, my halfling, that I did."

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the new snow piled high all around the mountain with no sign of the orcs, but those inside the mountain did not see this. By the time Thorin began to stir in his chambers, his mountain was well into another day of work. After ten years, the dwarves in the mountain had set a good pace for the day and had learned to take any bumps in hand and work with them. The prosperity of the mountain reflected in the town below by the lake. A go between of Dale and Laketown, the new town was flourishing well. Now on the other side of the lake than where Laketown had been to be in more contact with the dwarves, it was now a center of trade and travel in the region. It was filled with men and dwarves and elves now, all living in harmony. They had all toiled together to rebuild a forgotten dream and it was paying off well. The Bard was now the ruler of the city, with the Master taking over more duties leaning towards commerce. The two made quite a pair and between them and Thorin and his nephews, the entire area around the town and mountain were prospering again. Farms dotted the landscape, covered in snow, but come spring they would be full of life.

Thorin stirred first, something feeling off to him. He wasn't sure what. He was feeling comfortable, which was not uncommon, but something was pressed up against him, and by the sounds of it, that something was a someone who had a cold in their chest. He opened his eyes and looked down into a mop of curly sandy blonde hair. Thorin smiled, remembering the night before until a dry sounding cough wracked Bilbo's body. Thorin's arm around the hobbit tightened immediately, startling Bilbo awake. He looked up at Thorin, eyes hazy, "Wha?"

His voice barely squeaked out and what did was raspy and sounded painful and Bilbo's face confirmed it. Thorin frowned, shifted his arm so the back of his hand was pressed to Bilbo's forehead. He was a little warm, "You have a fever. Don't talk and stay here."

Thorin got up and started making some tea with the supplies he had in his quarters. He pulled the handle by the fire, which rang a bell in Balin and Clara's quarters. The handle next to it rang a bell in Dwalin's and the last one rang a bell in his nephews'. For now, he figured he would need just Clara or Balin. Hopefully Bilbo was just sick and not suffering from an infection, although most of the wounds looked like they had already begun healing. A sneeze behind him had Thorin turning around, raising an eyebrow. Bilbo looked miserable, having rolled over so he could watch Thorin. His face was a little flushed, but Thorin could see white lying underneath the red on his cheeks. He could see now Bilbo's nose was a little red and the hobbit had pulled the blankets tight around him. Thorin gave him a sad smile before finishing the tea he was making, adding a little honey before bringing it over to the bed. He sat down by Bilbo, brushing some of the hobbits hair out of his face, "Lets get you sitting so we can get some tea in you. I know how much you like tea."

Bilbo let Thorin help him sit up this time and let the king support him as he sipped at the tea, letting out a sigh of content. Thorin smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Bilbo's head. Bilbo smiled up at him and looked about ready to say something when there was a knock at the door. Thorin sighed sadly, "Enter!"

The heavy wooden door was shoved open to reveal Balin, closely followed by a very familiar figure, "Look who just arrived this morning. We were just talking about coming to check on you two."

"Gandalf," Bilbo let out softly, barely a whisper, trying to go easy on his throat. Gandalf frowned and strode forward, kneeling before the hobbit.

"When I left you and Frodo at Beorn's, you were looking much better. I thought you were going to stay the winter," Gandalf pressed a hand to Bilbo's throat, whispering something quickly. Bilbo let out another sigh and this one didn't sound like it rattled around the hobbit's rib cage.

"The nightmares started again," Bilbo answered, looking down. Thorin frowned, glancing at Balin. The other dwarf just shook his head, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

"But the Necromancer is defeated. It should not be calling for the ring," Gandalf sat back, looking worried.

"The ring? Bilbo's ring? What has that got to do with a Necromancer?" Thorin growled, wrapping a protective arm around the hobbit.

"The ring Bilbo carries is no ordinary ring. You all knew this," Gandalf said slowly, choosing his words wisely. "For a time, I had assumed many rings that his could be, but now we know for sure which ring Bilbo has had the unfortunate fate of carrying. There is a greater reason why Bilbo and I are here."

"Frodo will be safe here," Bilbo looked up at Thorin. "And I know he will be raised well. Not proper, of course, but well."

"What are you speaking of?" Balin leaned forward.

"Bilbo must go to Mordor," Gandalf looked over the two dwarves sadly. "And what he must do there is no easy task."

"Why are you sending my halfling to that accursed place?" Thorin growled, pulling Bilbo closer. He missed the slight blush that came to Bilbo's face, although Gandalf looked amused for a moment before growing serious.

"The ring Bilbo carries is old and dark. It must be destroyed and the only way to destroy it is throwing it into Mount Doom," Gandalf stood and walked over to another chair. He sat, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "The ring Bilbo carries is the One Ring, the All Powerful Ring. The ring of the Dark Lord, Sauron. And it must be destroyed before Middle-Earth is destroyed. Already forces have felt it, like the Necromancer. That is why I forbade you all from seeing Bilbo. For his own safety and yours I kept him hidden away at Rivendell. There Elrond could treat him while Radagast and myself took care of the Necromancer. But that was a few years ago and now something stronger is reaching for the ring. We don't have much time and we aren't here for your blessing. We are here for a safe place to keep Frodo till we return. That is all we ask."

"No," Thorin growled. "You do not receive my blessing."

"Thorin!" Bilbo squeaked, looking horrified. "He is just a little more than a babe. I cannot take him with or leave him just anywhere! Please!"

"I said I did not give my blessing, but I did not say to what," Thorin took a calming breath. "Balin, start preparing provisions and speak to the others, see who can come. I don't expect Gloin or Dori, with their families, but Dwalin will come and Ori won't let him out of his sight. And I will have to speak to Dis. She will be in charge of the boy and the kingdom till we return."

"W-w-what?" Bilbo was shaking a little while Gandalf just smiled.

"You think after just getting you back I will let you leave my side so easily?" Thorin gave Bilbo a gentle smile. "No, I am going with, and I do believe most of the others will to. You cannot got adventuring, Mr. Baggins, and leave out the rest of us. You need to rest and by the time you are well enough to travel, we will be ready."

"It is a long and dangerous road, Thorin," Gandalf cut in, grave. "And on this journey, I cannot guarantee safety like the last. Death is more cunning now than it was before."

"I do not care," Thorin snapped. "I was a fool and I let something precious to me slip away for silly reasons. It will not happen again. We are all going on this journey."