A blend of book and movie verse, along with my own denial of the tragic ending of the Hobbit.
It was official, Frodo Baggins decided one morning. Bag End was a simply delightful place to live. A more cheerful, snug, and welcoming hobbit hole couldn't be found from Hobbiton to Tuckborough. The larder was always full; there was a beautiful garden in the back; and he actually had his own bedroom, which seemed an unimaginable luxury after months in crowded Brandy Hall. And Bilbo Baggins was the perfect uncle, he concluded. He was always there when Frodo needed him, but not to the point of being overly nosy or prying. They had gotten along remarkably well the past two years.
The only drawback at all was that there weren't very many hobbits his age nearby. He missed his younger cousin Merry, and the endless supply of relations for games of conkers or ninepins. The closest person in their twenties that he knew was Lotho Sackville-Baggins, someone he'd learned to avoid very quickly after moving here.
"Is the tea ready Frodo, or have you drowned in the kettle?" Bilbo called out cheerfully from the dining room.
"Almost," Frodo replied, grinning despite himself. He plunked the kettle on the tray, followed by two small biscuits and a generously heaped plate of cookies. Careful not to trip over the stack of books by the doorway, he brought the tray and mugs out into the dining room.
"You planning to eat all those yourself?" asked Bilbo, raising an eyebrow at the monstrous heap of cookies.
"Well, I did make them, so that makes me entitled to most, if not all, of them." Frodo declared in a mock-serious tone, settling into his comfortable window seat, tea in hand.
"Hmph," grunted Bilbo, pretending to be cross. "Well, we'll just see what happens when I tell you the same thing at supper."
"Then I guess I'll be eating at the Gamgees' tonight," said Frodo, imitating Bilbo's stern voice perfectly.
Bilbo chuckled at that. Frodo did as well, taking pleasure in just having someone to really talk and joke with, and once again resolved to be eternally grateful to his uncle for taking him in. Friends or not, Bag End was perfect the way it was.
"Speaking of the Gamgees'," said Bilbo, in between munches of biscuit. "Hamfast should be by later today to plant the bulbs before the frost comes, so get the door if someone knocks. I'll be in my study."
"Writing your book?" asked Frodo innocently.
"When are you going to stop pestering me about that?" sighed Bilbo.
"But Uncle Bilbo, you need to write a book. Your stories are amazing! They're almost as good as all the elf tales you read me."
"Dream on, lad," said Bilbo, ruffling his nephew's hair on his way to the study. "And don't forget about your copywork. I want the rest of chapter two of Tales of the West written out in your best handwriting before you go out today."
Frodo drained the rest of his cup of tea and happily pulled out his workbook. That was another great thing about Bag End. There was an abundant supply of books.
...
Two hours later, Frodo was not so sure about that last sentiment. Why were the pages so big and the words so long and the text so small? Did everyone speak like the elves back then, in what was practically poetry? When the doorbell finally rang, he sprang out of his chair and dashed down the hall, immensely grateful for the distraction. Before the bell could be rung a second time he eagerly flung the door open, not bothering to check and look if it was the gardener.
What he saw shocked him profoundly. Instead of the stooped figure of Hamfast Gamgee with a hoe in hand, a tall dark-haired dwarf stood on the step, with a bow and quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. His bearded face smiled cheerfully, and he politely inquired, "Hello there. I'm looking for-"
Frodo slammed the door in his face.
"Uncle Bilbo!" he shrieked, hurtling down the hall. "Come quick!"
"Was that Hamfast?" asked Bilbo, looking up from his desk. Frodo shocked him by grabbing his hand and half dragging him towards the door.
"There's a strange dwarf at the door who's looking for you!" gasped Frodo. "He's got weapons!"
Bilbo looked startled for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Well, there's no reason to be so horrified about it. It's been a few years since Balin's visited. Now's your chance to meet him."
He strode off down the hall, and Frodo followed close behind. He probably shouldn't have slammed the door in the dwarf's face, he thought guiltily. But it was just so unexpected to have him pop up like that! Still, he resolved to try and be more welcoming to friends of Bilbo.
His uncle calmly opened the door, revealing the visibly uncomfortable stranger standing outside. His face brightened as soon as he saw Bilbo however.
"Bilbo Baggins! So you do still live here! I thought I'd come to the wrong house and scared some hobbit child half to death. Kíli, at your service." he finished with a friendly half-bow.
Bilbo looked momentarily shocked, but was soon vigorously shaking Kíli's hand and patting him on the back. "Kíli! I never expected you to visit! It's wonderful to see you again! How's the life of a prince been? And who are these fine dwarflings?"
For the first time Frodo noticed the three small dwarves standing behind Kíli, along with a pony by the front gate. The oldest of them was about his height, but the other two were much shorter. One of them looked to be a girl, but it was hard to tell, as their coats were the same length along with their hair.
Kili's smile grew even wider, a fact Frodo would have thought to be impossible. He beckoned the dwarflings forward.
"Allow me to introduce my brother's son and eventual heir, Finn. This lass here is my own headstrong daughter Dís, named for her grandmother."
The golden haired boy bowed, and the maiden beside him curtsied. So she was a girl, thought Frodo with interest.
"Pleased to meet you both, Master Finn and Lady Dís," said Bilbo formally. The girl flashed him a smile through her wild dark hair while her cousin simply nodded.
"And this is my youngest, Taurion." Kíli finished, patting the smallest dwarf on the head. The boy remained staring at the stone steps, hand firmly clasped with the girl's.
"And I'm pleased to meet you as well, little fellow," said Bilbo, getting down to see the boy at eyelevel. The dwarfling briefly glanced up to look at him before returning his gaze to the ground.
"Now Taurion, don't be rude," his father chided gently.
"Taurion? Isn't that an Elvish name?" asked Bilbo, straightening up.
"It is." said Kíli with a hint of weary exasperation. "And as far as most of my family and the general public is concerned, his name is Thror."
Frodo barely smothered a laugh. He couldn't think of a name that suited the shy little dwarf before him less.
Both Kíli and Bilbo turned to look at him at the sound.
"This is my nephew Frodo Baggins. He's recently come to live here with me after he was orphaned. Sorry about the mistake with the door earlier, he isn't usually so rude," said his uncle, giving him a disapproving look.
"Forgive me," said Frodo, ducking his head as he blushed. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Kíli."
"No problem at all," said Kíli easily, "We've had far less welcoming greetings."
"Not that I'm not delighted to see you again," said Bilbo after a moment's pause. "But what's brought this sudden visit about?"
Kíli's cheerful demeanour instantly took on a grim appearance. "Perhaps we'd better talk inside."
"Of course, of course!" said Bilbo. "Terribly sorry to keep you standing at the door. Come in at once."
The dwarves tramped inside and began to hang up their hoods and coats. Bilbo bustled about putting the kettle on and pulling already prepared food out of the pantry. Frodo followed him into the kitchen, but hung by the door to listen to their guests.
"Did you tie the pony properly, Finn?" asked Kíli as he unslung his bow.
"Yes, Uncle Kíli," said the blonde boy promptly. The girl made a face at him when her father wasn't looking and mouthed 'Goody-goody'. Finn rolled his eyes at that and ruffled her braids. She responded by good-naturedly kicking him in the shins and turned to gently pull her younger brother's coat off. Frodo watched their fond bickering with a tinge of longing.
...
After supper, a drawn out affair in which a shocking amount of food had been consumed, even by hobbit standards, the reason for the dwarves' visit was again brought up.
"And how is the state of affairs in the Lonely Mountain?" inquired Bilbo after congratulating Kíli on his marriage three decades past.
"Not good at all, I'm afraid," said Kíli, absently rubbing his chin. Frodo noticed he appeared to have a decent length beard. The dwarf must have been working on it since the quest.
"Uncle Thorin's health has been very poorly lately, ever since a hunting accident two years ago, and there's been talk of him abdicating the throne in favour of my brother. But dissident dwarves, mostly those from the Iron Hills, have been vehemently protesting against it. They insist one of their own ought to be king instead, namely Dáin, as he is a direct descendant of Durin, unlike Fíli who only inherits it from his mother's side."
"But that's ridiculous!" protested Bilbo. "Thorin has named Fíli as his heir, has he not? How can they argue with that?"
"Be that as it may, he would be the first king under the mountain not of a direct son-to-son decent from Durin the Deathless. Certain influential dwarves are fighting axe and hammer against his ascension, using everything from the fact his grandfather went insane to their assistance in the Battle of the Five Armies, for which they've been well repaid I might add." Kíli paused to pull out and light his pipe.
"It's gotten to the point where things are beginning to get dangerous. Death threats, attempted kidnappings, and the like. I feared for their safety," he said, gesturing at the dwarflings. Finn and Dís looked indignant at that.
"There was only one kidnapper, and Finn and I managed to shove him off the balcony ourselves," the girl muttered under her breath
Kíli ignored this and continued on.
"Fíli and I agreed it would be best to remove our children to less hostile regions. We tried to convince our wives to accompany them, but Hèndra refused to leave Fíli during this trying time and Ida…" Kíli shrugged with an accepting smile. "…made it very clear that I would be of better use defending our children than staying home and driving everyone else to distraction. She manages the politics better than I ever did. So that is why we set out for the Blue Mountains two months ago."
"And what changed your mind?" asked Bilbo.
"I received a letter by raven from Fíli less than a week ago. Thorin's health is much worse. My presence is apparently required after all in the Mountain, and as soon as possible," Kíli finished.
"Ah," said Bilbo tactfully. "So I suppose you came here to rest before returning to Erebor. The Blue Mountains are, after all, still some weeks away."
"Actually, I was hoping you could look after them."
Frodo had never seen his uncle look so flabbergasted. It was actually quite funny.
"Me! You can't be serious!" he spluttered. "Guard the heirs to the throne of Erebor? Raise three young dwarves in the Shire? I just turned ninety last week! Honestly Kíli, what gave you this absurd idea!"
"Calm down, Bilbo," said Kíli soothingly. "It will be perfectly fine, I'm sure. The Shire's the last place anyone would look for them. They'll be even safer here than in the Blue Mountains. And you're the company burglar, who rescued us from the spiders and elves and stole treasure from right under the dragon Smaug's nose. I'm positive you can manage this."
Bilbo wasn't convinced. It took well over an hour for Kíli's charm and silver tongue to bring him round. Frodo was just bring the pie out for dessert (thank heavens Bilbo had been giving him cooking lessons yesterday!) when his uncle begrudgingly admitted Kíli might be right.
"Well, I suppose what you say makes sense. But we're not discussing a night's stay here. This is all through the autumn and quite possibly winter too! That's far too long for any child to be away from their family."
"But there's no other way around it. I'll be riding back to Erebor during the worst time of year for traveling. By the time the mess with the ascension sorts itself out and it will safe for my nephew and children to return it will be at least several months."
Frodo didn't catch his uncle's grumbled response, he was too busy cutting perfectly equal pie slices, determined to be just a good as host as Bilbo.
"Cream or no cream?" he asked Taurion politely, since he was the youngest.
"Lots and lots of cream." said the small dwarf softly, speaking for the first time since he had come inside.
"Tauri! Say please. Adad told us to use hobbit manners, remember?" scolded his sister.
"Lots and lots of cream, please?" whispered the little boy, ducking his head and swinging his small feet that couldn't reach the floor, even when sitting on a hobbit bench.
Frodo smiled and poured a lavish amount of chilled cream over the pumpkin pie slice.
Both Finn and Dís accepted equally large ladles of cream, and while the girl managed to eat her slice delicately, Finn and Taurion devoured theirs with the same gusto with which they had attacked the rest of the meal.
"So good," said Finn, in between forkfuls of pie. "This is our first real meal since we left the Mountain."
Frodo was about to ask how they had survived for two months without eating when Kíli clapped his hands together, apparently having finally fully convinced Bilbo.
"That settles it then. Children, you will be staying here with Mr. Baggins and his nephew until I or your mother or aunt come back to fetch you, which will probably be sometime after Yuletide."
Frodo expected a storm of outburst at the announcement, but nothing but a stoic silence greeted his ears. All three young dwarves glared at Kíli with wordless resentment.
The dwarf sighed.
"I know you're not happy about leaving. You've made that very clear from the day we set out. But there's nothing to be done about it now. I'll be able to travel much faster back to the Mountain on my own."
Slowly the dwarflings nodded their heads. But they looked anything from convinced, Frodo thought.
"Very good then." said Bilbo, standing up and gathering the dishes. "Now let's see about the spare rooms."
...
Early the next morning, after a light breakfast (Kíli insisted he couldn't stay for second, however much he'd like to), the prince went down to the Hobbiton pub to retrieve their packs from the public stable.
"Now I've arranged for your ponies to be cared for over the winter, but make sure you check on them often and take them out for exercise," Kíli instructed Finn and Dís as he stacked their packs in the hall. Both children nodded obediently, and Dís held out the quiver and bow to her father. Kíli smiled at her fondly as he took them and planted a kiss on her forehead.
Bilbo watched the affectionate exchange and marvelled out how much the young reckless dwarf had grown up. It seemed only yesterday he'd been washed down a river with Kíli whooping in between the drenching waves, or helplessly stood back as the dwarf and his brother threw his best plates around the dining room, singing a comic song purely to annoy him. Hard to believe that rascal had turned into this serious young father. But then, Kíli had been through plenty of terrors since then, Bilbo reflected, thinking of poisoned arrows and a certain horrific battle.
"Do you think I want to leave Taurion and Dís, or Finn here, Bilbo? To be separated from my children and nephew for months on end? What I want is for them to be safe, to have an ordinary childhood with a home and no fear of being killed or attacked," the dwarf had said to him while making his case the previous evening. "Amad and Uncle Thorin always did their best to protect me and Fíli from the dangers of the world, but that didn't stop the feeling that we didn't belong anywhere or that we could never feel truly at ease. That's why I brought them here, to rest in the safety of the Shire, instead of being forced to live under the constant threat of danger in Erebor."
It was that final heartfelt plea that had broken through his defences and overruled his objections last night, reflected Bilbo. Keep the young ones safe, and give them a loving home. He automatically moved his arm to rest on his sleepy nephew's shoulder, who wasn't used to getting up quite so early.
"I know that you'll make your father proud, Finn." said Kíli, patting his nephew on the back. "And as for you-" he paused to scoop Taurion off the floor. "Make sure you listen to your sister and cousin. They'll look after you. And mind that all of you listen to Mr. Baggins. I want to hear a good report when I come back."
Taurion simply clung harder to his father.
"Don't leave me," he whispered. "What if you don't come back?"
Kíli closed his eyes in pain, no doubt thinking of his own father who had never come back, leaving him and Fíli alone. "I promise mizimith that I'll try my very hardest not to let that happen. Your Adad's been through a lot, and I'll have more peace of mind knowing that you're safe here."
Taurion blinked back his tears and slowly slid down to once again clutch Dís' hand.
"Safe travels, Kíli. We'll be watching for you every day come the new year," said Bilbo.
"Bye, Mr. Kíli," said Frodo, smothering a yawn.
"Farewell to you both," said Kíli solemnly, aiming another half-bow in Frodo's direction, causing the small hobbit to smile. "It's been wonderful to visit you, Bilbo. I never thought I'd see the inside of your charming hobbit hole again."
"Yes, well, I'm glad you got my name right this time." Bilbo jested.
Kíli sighed in mock exasperation. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Most certainly not. Give my regards to your family," said the hobbit.
"Will do," Kíli promised. He turned back to face the dwarflings. "Be good. I love you all."
As one they surged around their father, or in Finn's case uncle, firmly trapping him in an iron hug. He embraced them all warmly, murmuring several endearments in the dwarven language Khuzdul. After a long moment he regretfully pried his way free, his eyes gleaming with what might have been tears. Grasping his pack, he strode out through the door and slung it over his back. The children crowded around the round doorframe and called out a torrent of farewells after him.
"Bye, Adad! We love you!"
"Come back soon! Tell Amad I miss her!"
"Please don't be too long Adad! Come back safe!"
They waved fiercely the whole while, despite the fact Kíli was barely out of the garden. He paused as he shut the gate behind him and waved back, looking as though he was doing his best to put on a cheerful appearance. He then turned and strode off down the path, though he couldn't help looking back every few moments and waving. Taurion, despite his quivering lip and frantically fluttering arm, managed not to burst into tears through heroic effort on his part. All three dwarves stood and watched until Kíli disappeared around the bend.
When the prince could be seen no longer, Bilbo gently closed the door. He turned and faced the three young dwarflings, who all stared up at him with questioning and somewhat challenging eyes.
Just what had he gotten himself into?
Well, I hope you enjoyed that! I certainly had fun writing it. I've already plotted the rest of the story (about two chapters) out, so I'll update soon depending on the response this gets. This is only my second fic, so please review if you thought it was any good. Thanks for reading!
*A note on names: I named Finn after Fíli and Kíli's father in one of Hobbsy3's stories, as it's my favourite of the character's possible names. Taurion comes from the elvish words 'taurë' meaning 'forest' and 'ion' which means 'son of'. A literal translation would be 'son of the forest' the same way Tauriel means 'daughter of the forest'. Kíli named his son after her out of gratitude for saving his life and to honour their friendship, a fact his wife Ida was perfectly agreeable with, in case you were wondering.