The trek to Rivendale had not been as hard as it had been the first time. Bilbo was able to walk further during the day without breaks as he once had, but he also wasn't pressured to get anywhere within a time limit which eased the weight of each step, or so it seemed to him. He kept along the various water ways as much as could be allowed and was able to create a make-shift fishing rod out of twigs and string and a metal hook that the dwarves had packed for him. Bilbo also made a stew of fish, carrots and potato about half way to the elfish city that lasted him for several days. The forests seemed devoid of orcs and goblins, probably because of their abuse at the hands of the dwarves; Bilbo had no doubt they loomed just out of sight, licking their wounds.
Upon reaching the city he was greeting by Elrond and a couple other elves from his court. They dined lavishly and he was allowed to bathe and rest at his leisure. He strolled through the library during the most of the days he was there, fascinated with the lore of the elves.
He planned to stay for a week at the most. Elrond didn't oppose his presence; in fact, he found it a good time for the hobbit to explain the remainder of his journey to him, although he knew most of it already. And of course the ever talkative hobbit was ready for such a tale. They sat by one of the pools on his last night there, Bilbo smoking some herbs in his pipe while Elrond peered up into the cloudless night sky. The moon was bright, causing the calm waters of the pool to glimmer as if it was filled with liquid silver.
"And so I stayed for a year and worked on a book documenting our experiences," Bilbo finished with a puff of his pipe, creating an oval in the air just as he had always done back in the Shire.
The elf watched him with slight amusement. He never would understand why mortals thought smoking a pipe was a pleasant activity. "And you were fine living in the…depths of Erebor? I was under the impression hobbits liked the sun."
Bilbo smiled sadly as the oval dissipated. "That's part of the reason I left. After the book was done of course. I miss the Shire."
"So you're returning…without any company?"
The way the elf arched a brow made Bilbo pause. "I'm not sure I know what you're implying Master Elrond."
"Was it not obvious?" he asked. "I assumed that you and that foolish king of a dwarf would have become…what's the word those short creatures use? Ah yes, One."
Bilbo flushed red. He continued to puff frantically on his pipe. "I can assure you that the King and I never did anything even remotely like-"
"You misunderstand the term," Elrond said, cutting him off with a slight raise of his hand. "You see, like elves, dwarves believe in taking a husband, wife, what have you, for life."
The hobbit lowered his pipe, gazing at the elf as though enthralled with a fairy tale.
"They beginning by courting, which typically involves the trading of gifts, proving oneself by doing different tasks, and if all goes well marriage insues. It's the same sort seen amongst hobbits and Men, but it typically private matter between the two. Unless they are found out of course." At this Elrond sighed. "Then according to what I have witnessed, it is to be flaunted for all to see."
"Then why-"
Elrond cut him off again with another gesture. "I ask because it seemed quite obvious to me that you two share a…profound bond."
Seeing the halfing's confusion, Elrond gestured at Bilbo's ear.
"Those are not given out lightly, Master Baggins."
The hobbit's fingers reached up and gently began to trace the swirls of the metal.
It is only to be given to those who are friends of our people…and you, Bilbo, surpass even that.
Bilbo shook his head. "Excuse my bluntness, Master Elrond, but you are wrong. After what I've done to him…stealing the Arkenstone….he couldn't harbor any feelings for me."
"I am not usually wrong, Bilbo Baggins," the dark haired elf scoffed. Although he could have continued further, Elrond noted the distant hurt in Bilbo's eyes. A comforting hand on the hobbit's shoulder was all he could offer. "It was a necessity. They all would have been slaughtered unless you intervened, Burglar."
He sighed. In a quiet voice he mumbled "I wish I hadn't been such an idiot. How come I could get up the courage to steal 'the heart of the mountains', but telling him 'Hey, I might like you' was…impossible?"
Elrond managed a smile "The heart is a complicated thing, especially for mortals who do not have long to master its secrets. Do not despair master hobbit," The elf's eyes glanced down to one of the pockets of Bilbo's vest where the hobbit held his closest and most powerful secret. "I have a feeling you will have a long time to uncover the secrets of your own."
The elf king took to his feet and offered his hand to the much younger being. Bilbo took it with slight confusion and was taken to his feet.
"I shall send quill, parchment and drink to your quarters," he stated. "Write to him. Perhaps confessions are not meant to be brought into light in your first correspondence, but write. Let him know you are…within my care."
Bilbo snorted. "He'll love that."
"He may not like your host," Elrond said with a knowing smile, "but he shall appreciate your words. And here, I take my leave. Have good dreams Master Baggins."
The regal looking elf took his leave, ordering ink, paper and drink for Bilbo as he passed by a subordinate. Bilbo retired to his room which over looked the pools. It was a nicely furbished room, more so than his room at Erebor had been. This room contained a larger bed, two wardrobes, a desk that sat before a window overlooking the courtyard, a plush chair, a wash basin, and a table for eating more private meals. Moonlight poured in from the open window as did the cool late spring air. Bilbo hadn't been in his room long before a female elf appeared at his door; silently she handed him a feather, an ink well, several sheets of yellowed paper and a crystal bottle with an amber colored liquid inside before leaving. The hobbit placed each of these on the desk and sat down, suddenly tired. He took the feather in hand and laid out the pages before him. The blankness almost scared him.
"What am I supposed to write…?" he mused. "'Hi Thorin, I'm with the elves you so much hate'…"
To start he uncorked the bottle with a pop and upon realizing he had no cup in which to pour the substance, he merely pressed his lips to the rim and tilted the bottle ever gently upwards, allowing the liquid to slowly trickle down. It was cool when it touched his parted lips, but as the smooth drink hit his throat, it felt as though a fire had erupted in his chest. After an initial bit of coughing, Bilbo felt relaxed and loved the warm feeling spreading through him.
A couple swigs of the bottle later he was dipping his quill into the ink and scratching it across the surface of the paper, his handwriting immaculate even in his increasingly intoxicated state.
"I'll have this done and ready to be sent by morning!"
By the time that the letter arrived via elf carrier in Erebor, Bilbo had been back in the shire for two, almost three weeks. The elven rider came to the main gate of the grand dwarven city on a beautiful white steed, a satchel strapped to the side of the majestic beast and the rider clad in lightweight green armor. Banners baring the crest of Durin flew from the upper walls and the city that had once been devastated by Smaug was now rebuilt for the most part and even the elf was a bit surprised at how quickly the once barren city had risen like a phoenix from the ashes. He had not the chance to dismount before his sharp hearing picked up the zing of a string belonging to a bow being pulled back, and the shuffle of an arrow being pulled from a quiver.
"Halt elf!" came a young voice from atop the balcony directly over the gate. "State your business!"
The elf smiled to himself; he had expected such hospitality from barbarians like dwarves, but he was not expecting an archer coming from a race that were known for swinging axes. "I am a servant to his Lordship Elrond of Rivendale," he called up, his voice still gentle despite the volume. "I bring a letter for King Thorin of the Lonely Mountain."
"From who?" a second voice asked from the balcony. This one a bit rougher than the first.
"Master Bilbo Baggins of the Shire."
The elf heard the bow tossed to the side with a clatter and the sound of running above him on the balcony. Seconds later the gates were being pushed open by two dwarves, one blonde with a braided beard, and the other beardless but with a flowing ponytail of brown hair. Both were grinning like idiots despite themselves.
"I am Kili."
"And I'm Fili. We're King Thorin's nephews."
The carrier gave a short bow. "Princes. Can I entrust you to give this to your uncle? Master Elrond told me it was important this gets to him."
"Of course, of course," Fili grinned. The letter the elf offered to him was rolled tight like a scroll, tied tight by a thin piece of leather. "You said this was from Bilbo?"
"How was he?" Kili asked as he watched Fili took the letter.
"He left us almost three weeks ago by my guess," the elf estimated, glancing up at the sky and sun as if the answer was there. "While in our charge you can assure your King that he was well fed and cared for before departing for the Shire. He spoke well of you dwarves."
"Kili, please get some refreshments for this elf," Fili told his younger brother, "after all it would only be polite. I shall present this to Thorin."
Kili nodded and motioned for a nearby guard to escort the horse to the stable while he tended to the elf. The much taller being was a bit hesitant to enter Erebor at first, after all, elves and dwarves did not get along by any means, but after riding for such a long time he was in need of a soak in the water and perhaps a bite to eat. As Kili led the elf away, the blonde dwarf took off down the hall, letter in hand, his heart fluttering.
"This might be just what he needs!" he chuckled to himself as he flew down the halls, skating around corners without looking.
Bilbo's departure had done something to Thorin, almost has if the flame of dwarfish pride and fighting spirit was squished. The king spent his days in his room leafing through books with an ever constant frown tugging on his lips. He rarely spoke to any of The Company aside from soft spoken orders. When gold and gems were uncovered further down in the mines and presented to him, he waved them away as though he were not a dwarf. Thorin was a ghost of his old self; where what the fiery leader they had followed through Middle Earth? Where was the king that had led their people to safety when Erebor had been seized by Smaug? Kili and Fili both knew. It's because his "heart" had left home. He missed their dear burglar.
Fili arrived outside Thorin's room and gave three rapid knocks on the door.
"Enter," came a gruff voice from within.
It was dark within. The only light came from a lone candle sitting on the king's desk, casting flickering shadows upon the stone walls. Thorin sat, a book before him from their quest, one that he clapped shut when he saw his nephew. The room was cold, the stove sat unlit, and Fili noted that his uncle had yet to eat the lunch that had been brought to him although the wine bottle was empty. Although Thorin was un-kept, his hair fell unruly past his shoulders instead of having braids, there was still an air of lingering majesty around him.
"Good afternoon Uncle," Fili said gently as one addresses someone who is sick. "I have something that was delivered for you."
Thorin's looked at his nephew crossly. "Delivered?"
"An elf-"
At this Thorin made a snort and crossed his arms. Smiling, Fili continued.
"An elf rode out a letter to us…"
The younger dwarf crossed the room over to his hunched forward uncle. Now closer to the dim light of the candle, he could tell what book he had been looking through; it was the one that Bilbo had wrote. Instead of commenting however, he took his uncle's large callused hand and placed the rolled up letter into it.
"It's from your hobbit."
Thorin's blue eyes widened as he stared at the parchment in his hands. "Bilbo…?"
As he began to unknot the leather strip, Fili quietly excused himself. It was best to give Thorin his privacy. He shut the door behind him with a click, only to come face to face with his brother.
"Well?" the younger inquired. "What of Uncle?"
Fili smiled. "I have a good feeling. And the elf?"
"Currently eating all our vegetables…"
To My King Under the Mountain, Thorin,
I write to you from my room that Lord Elrond has so kindly given to me whilst I stay and rest in Rivendale before continuing on back to the Shire. It is nice to finally have the time to look around at all their architecture and books without having to hurry and get on my way, but this place lacks a certain hospitality that could be found in Erebor. Homeliness if you will. Or perhaps I just mean it lacks the constant messes and noisy dwarves? You know I'm just teasing, so wipe that frown off your face—don't lie! I know it's there! In any case, I do not feel it necessary to defend my choice of having a brief stay with the elves, but I do however feel it necessary to tell you that my elfish host has been nothing but polite and tolerant, and I wish that there were better relations between your people.
My intentions when starting a correspondence with you was not merely to inform you of my whereabouts. I do hope you and the others are getting on without me. But I do already miss you all, especially you Thorin. You all remember to eat don't you? By that I mean you eat more than just meat (it is not healthy!). How are Kili and Fili? Are they any more prince-like than when I left them? Doubtful right? Myself, I'm looking forward to returning to Bag End, but at the same time dreading it. I've been away for so long, there's going to be so much to clean and restock! And I know the entire Shire is going to be wondering where I went to; hobbits don't leave the Shire normally unless to visit family nearby. I hope someone has been tending my gardens at least somewhat, although I'm expecting a total disaster. After I get it all up and running you should come to visit. Or would that be impossible? You are a king after all, and I understand you have your own duties to attend to.
I will write again when I get home if I can, although I'm not sure how long it would take a letter to reach you. Take care of everyone for me Thorin. And make sure you take care of yourself. You're important you know? And kings should sulk and frown as much as you do. Just smile a bit.
Sincerely Yours,
Bilbo Baggins
It was a short letter, but Thorin held it in his hands as though it were a delicate contract. The writing was perfect except for a couple ink blots down the bottom towards his signature. Had he been debating what to write? Despite himself Thorin found himself smiling like an idiot down at the paper, imagining Bilbo speaking the words to him directly.
Oh how his heart clenched at the thought of the hobbit. The burglar that had stolen his heart and run off with it. But Bilbo hadn't known.
If only I had told him.
His eyes ran over each word again and again, tracing the pen strokes as they made each letter, when suddenly a realization came over him. With his index finger he trailed beneath the first few words.
"To my king under the mountain…Sincerely yours…"
My….Yours….
For the first time in possibly years Thorin felt the heat of a blush rise from his chest to his cheeks and ears. "He called me his…"
The words would leave his mouth. Stunned to silence he was. A spark of hope was ignited in his chest. He leapt from the chair, letter still in hand. Thorin began pulling open all the drawers, rummaging around in each for a quill and paper of his own. From the doorway Kili and Fili watched through a crack, smiling gently.
"Bilbo is exactly what our uncle needs."
