Daddies and ponies
Kili had just turned twenty and Fili thirty two- with a respectable stubble growing on his chin- when they found the little boy and he was very little. Just a babe.
There was only six in their company at the time, Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Ori and of course Thorin. It was unspoken but Dwalin and Thorin kept with the youngest members out of safety and their own piece of mind. When they weren't in sight Thorin felt his heart clench painfully and his deep set frown deepen. It had been years since he had last seen his home and after settling the dwarfs in the Blue Mountains Thorin and Dwalin where taking the youngsters on a journey, because Dais swore they were driving her crazy and she would skin them alive if Thorin didn't do something with them.
It wasn't as if Thorin had anything to do, no, he wasn't important at all. Of course not. Because he was unimportant he was settled with babysitting duty –not that he minded- but he was a Prince, although technically a homeless one, but a noble Prince none the less and here he was watching three children. When he should have been scourging the land for a legion to go to war with.
Not even a quarter into their journey Thorin started to notice something was amiss, the land was sick, and what was once rolling of hills green were yellowing. It was an ill omen but as Thorin had always suspected the world had fallen with his home. They came upon the Shire three weeks into their journey and that's where their story began. It was quite when the dwarfs entered the territory of the Hobbits and all the houses where bordered up tight. Not wanting to disturb the eerie silence, which Thorin recognized instantly as mourning they crept through the darkened and overgrown paths.
"What happened here?" Kili asked as he grabbed his older brothers arm.
Fili puffed up in a fake show of bravery but his eyes flickered around uneasily. "Looks like plague."
"Aye so you best not breathe much," Dwalin teased.
Fili and Kili eeped and instantly covered their mouth and nose trying to hold their breaths. Ori shook his head at the smaller boys. "You don't get the plague form breathing, just don't touch anything."
One door on the hill was open and when the wind blew past, Thorin's heart was stabbed with the broken sound of a cry. Without a word, he turned from the group and headed up towards the cracked door, determined to find what had made such a blood-chilling noise of pain. The king was silent as he walked and waved away the others when they attempted to follow. At the round opening he pushed it open and peeked through, his right hand hovering above his sword. Just in case it was a wild animal or worse.
A small child with blond curly locks was sitting on the ground next to a woman collapsed on the floor sobbing his heart out. His plumb cheeks where dirty and his clothes hanging off his shoulders. The dark house was a mess and a thin layer dust covered everything. It was the exact opposite to what Thorin believed a Hobbit's hole to be. The dwarf king stepped in the house and the child immediately spotted crying to glance up at the foreign man with the deepest brown eyes he had ever viewed. For such a wee thing the poor lad had seen death and known such sorrow, the brown eyes gazing back at the king where not those of a babe but a wise old man. Thorin walked forward stopping at the boy and who he assumed was his mother. She was white as a sheet and her lips blue, almost a week dead.
"She's broken," the little boy sniffled. "Can you fix her?"
Thorin crouched down, giving the dead woman a sad look. "No I can not."
The little boy nodded gravely. "I can't either."
"Where's your father?" Thorin said gently, feeling his heart reaching out for the small boy.
The lad pointed behind him to another door that was cracked open. "He's also broken, Ma went to gather plants cause they were supposed to fix 'im but she fell and she won't get up."
Thorin's brow creased wondering if the boy even understood what he had just said. The child looked no more than two or three and smaller than any dwarf child he had seen. The dwarf couldn't leave the boy, and he wasn't sure if any of the other Hobbits where alive or had also fallen ill like the poor young couple. The best thing would be to get the boy out of there and away from the illness that had claimed his parents. Thorin reached out and scooped the lad to chest as the little thing wound his small arms around the stocky dwarf and buried his face in the fur of Thorin's cape. Just as they were about to leave the Hobbit hole the arms tightened around his neck.
"What about ma and da?" A tiny voice quivered in the kings ears.
"We'll give them a proper burial."
The little boy relaxed in the kings arms and as Thorin made his way back to the group the boy fell asleep.
"What's this?" Kili asked when Thorin handed him the sleeping lad. The young dwarf looked confused about holding such a small bundle until his eyes saw the boys serene face in the moon light.
"You stole a babe?" Fili joked, as he too fell under the spell of the boy.
"Sickness claimed his Ma and Da," Thorin said.
Ori and Dwalin helped the king burry the couple, as the brothers looked after the hobbit child. They placed the two in the ground together in the backyard and Thorin left a note and boarded up the house but not before searching for the lads room and shoving some clothing, quilts, a few books that where on a small bed and a cloth bear into a lather bag. The three dwarfs came back to Fili and Kili glaring angrily at an elderly Hobbit that was scurrying off as quickly as his pudgy body would allow him.
"What did he want?"
"He told us to take him and never return," Kili hissed angrily before glancing sadly at the sleeping babe in Fili's arms
"Apparently the illness started with him," Fili finished. "The town thinks he's a curse. No one wants to even approach the house."
Thorin nodded. "Then let's taken him," Fili and Kili beamed like they had won a mountain of treasure.
Dwalin looked at the babe and his hard face softened. "What's his name?"
"I don't rightly know," Thorin said as he took the boy from Fili who made protesting noise but fell silent when the child stirred.
Thorin could imagine that the Hobbit would never touch ground until he was bigger. The small boy was so small and light it was easy to carry him and his angelic face made it a joy. The king could only hope his mannerisms where just as sweet as his face and he wasn't a much of a handful as his nephews.
"Can we call him Grimla?" Fili chimed in as the group continued through the quiet Shire.
"Or what about Thror," Kili put in.
"How do we know it's a boy?" Ori interrupted the two brothers.
Dwalin sighed heavily. "He ain't a pet, and he'll tell us his name when he's up and ready to."
"Can I hold him?" Kili asked after a long moment of silence.
Thorin huffed, like hell he was going to let a tween hold his babe. Wait... What!? No, no, no he did not need this right now. Thorin had very important….but the lad looked adorable cradled in his arms and obviously the child trusted him the most so it was only logical he stay around and make sure the kid finds a proper home AND then he could go gallivanting around.
Right, he just needed to find the kid a home, and then he would leave.
That was it.
The little boy sleepily cracked open his eyes and smiled up at Thorin. He lifted a small pudgy hand and patted the king's cheek. "Your nice," he whispered before going back to sleep.
Oh who was he kidding this kid had stolen his heart and he didn't even know his name.
What a cunning little burglar!