Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit

Thorin had walked a long way, farther than most dead people walk. No one could explain it except the stories did develop quite beautifully. He had been dead, that much was for certain. He and his two nephews, who were more like sons to him than sister-sons, had been quite dead. Bilbo had cried so much and spoken so little that most people just left him alone. But he began grieving by not leaving the side of Thorin's body. Then he could no longer handle being so near him anymore so he went to a different tent where he sat in a shroud of darkness that seemed to be produced from the little hobbit himself. He said nothing, ate little to nothing, but drank as much alcohol as he could find. He no longer cried, most said he had no tears left, and when, at last, he set off for the Shire with the wizard, Thorin woke. By the time someone became aware of Thorin's no longer dead state Bilbo and the wizard were long gone. Thorin took some time to recover but as soon as he could, he set out for the Shire. No one seemed to notice his absence, he had been careful not to rouse suspicion. The long trip back to the Shire was perilous but much less than the adventure to the mountain. Thorin, no matter how fast his pace, never caught up with the burglar or the wizard. It had seemed like forever before he finally reached the Shire. His clothes were in need of mending and he had quite a few unattended cuts. He would probably scare most hobbits in the Shire but the one he wouldn't scare, Bilbo, was the one he most wanted to see. At least, that was the only one he thought he wouldn't scare.

He was leading his pony along the path when he heard soft crying. After a short search in the bushes he found a tiny hobbit. It appeared to be a child and was very small. When he looked up at Thorin his eyes widened. "I do not mean to frighten you." Thorin said gently. The boy made him miss his own adopted sons. He would never see Kili and Fili again.

"You didn't frighten me. I lost my way." The boy said defensively.

"Where were you going?" Thorin asked trying to sound gentle.

"My uncle's house." The boy said seeming proud. "I'm running away to live with him." He stood and puffed out his chest, clearly feeling very much more like a big person than the tiny hobbit he was. Thorin was once again struck with nauseating nostalgia for his lost boys. This child was so much like them, run away to be with his uncle and feeling bigger than he was. Thorin could practically see the brothers dancing around the boy with mischief alight in their eyes.

"Well perhaps someone might know where your uncle lives where I am going. Would you care for a ride?" Thorin asked waving at his pony. The hobbitling seemed much too small to ride a creature for dwarves but he nodded eagerly so Thorin plucked him up easily and plopped him on top of the beast's back. His little legs were stuck out straight on each side of him and Thorin repressed a laugh as he set off again. He knew where he was going; he'd been there once before. In passing, Thorin wondered if the wizard's mark would still be on the door.

When he arrived, the tiny hobbit clambered down and into the house without another word. After a long while, he reemerged, dragging none other than Master Bilbo Baggins, burglar extraordinaire. Thorin smiled at the sight of his old flame but the moment Bilbo laid eyes on Thorin, his eyes rolled back and his body crumpled to the floor.

"Uncle!" The tiny hobbit child squeaked frantically. Thorin repressed a sigh, still as weak of heart as he was in the beginning.

"Fetch some water." Thorin said to the hobbitling before carrying Bilbo inside and resting him in a worn old chair. When the boy returned, Thorin splashed some over Bilbo's head, rousing him with much sputtering.

"T-Thor... No. No, it can't be, you're dead." Bilbo faltered.

"I am clearly very much alive." Thorin replied as he handed Bilbo the rest of the water in a cup. He gulped it down before discarding the cup on the nearest table.

"You were dead!" Bilbo stomped his large feet like a child throwing a tantrum as he stood up, clearly not the reaction Thorin had been expecting.

"Have you lost all manners you once possessed? This little hobbit says he's visiting his uncle." Thorin waved at the tiny hobbitling. Bilbo faltered.

"Uncle Bilbo?" The tiny child asked in a small voice. "Are you going to introduce me?"

"T-Thorin, this is my nephew Frodo." Bilbo said weakly.

"So this is the famed uncle?" Thorin smiled as he looked at Frodo who grinned warily and nodded.

"Well Frodo, your uncle and I might need-" Thorin was cut off.

"No. You, out." Bilbo glared at Thorin and pointed at him and then at the round green door.

"My little burglar found his courage?" Thorin taunted.

"I saved you enough times with wit and quick thinking not to need your brash brand of reckless courage." Bilbo snapped before bustling Thorin from his little house. Thorin said nothing as he stood on Bilbo's porch, looking like he expected as much, even though he definitely had not expected as much, as the green door slammed in his face. He slid down and leaned against the grassy wall, humming a gentle tune as he sat mulling over what his next task would be on his quest of reclaiming Bilbo's heart.