Chapter 7:
It was the color that drew Bilbo away first.
All day he had been clinging to Thorin's hand, and simply walking quietly along. Both Dwalin and Thorin had known better than to make any remark on the boy's actions. The past month had not been a pleasant one for the little fauntling. First he was separated from his parents, who were killed. Then he was put into an orphanage that ended up being a slave-trade stop. He was beaten, rescued, and then chased down by wolves.
So when the little hobbit slipped his fingers from Thorin's large hand to go play in a field of wildflowers, the older dwarf didn't mind. But at that moment, Bilbo seemed to realize that running off had gotten him stuck in this endeavor in the first place. Before his big hobbit feet could carry him any further, he came to a screeching halt. Dwalin sent the hobbit a queer look.
"What is it, lad?"
Bilbo gave a small whimper.
Thorin crouched down next to Bilbo. "You may go and play for a bit, if you wish."
"Come with me." The hobbit whispered, lacing his fingers back into the large hand of Thorin.
The raven-haired dwarf looked at Dwalin. "We can rest for a bit."
"Aye, sounds fine by me." The tattooed one nodded, dropping his pack onto the ground with a thud.
Then he too sat down. He stretched out his long legs on the soft grass, eyes looking forward. A bright grin stretched across Dwalin's face. Thorin titled his head to the side, wondering why the other was smiling so suddenly.
"Look yonder." Dwalin laughed.
Thorin looked to the direction that his companion was pointing in, to see the huge expanse of mountains that they had been going towards for the past week. It was closer than ever before and now it was practically nose to nose with them.
"Ered Lûin." Thorin whispered, a grin spreading across his features. "How long has it been Dwalin? A few months since we've last been here?"
The younger dwarf barked out a teasing laugh. "Och, now I see why ye lose yer way all the time. Ye can't tell the time fer yer life."
The other dwarf looked unamused.
"Thorin, it's been 'bout fiver…er, six years since we've been in those mountains."
"Five or six?"
"I'm thinkin' six."
Thorin looked terrified for a moment before running a nervous hand through his hair. "She's going to kill me."
"Who, Dís?" Dwalin chuckled. "Nah, she'll probably jus' beat ye, since ye've got the lad an' all."
Thorin looked down at Bilbo who was still clutching his hand tightly. The little hobbit was looking wistfully at the field of brightly colored mountain flowers. It was rare that such a meadow would exist so close the foothills. Clearly they were at the peak of their short season. The mountain temperature grew frigid early on, and it was hard for such blossoms to last a full spring or summer season.
"We will continue this conversation later." Thorin rumbled, before swinging his arm playfully for the hobbit. "Come Bilbo. You seem intrigued by the mountain flowers."
The hobbit fauntling nodded eagerly before trying to tug the older dwarf along with him.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." He chuckled, allowing the small boy to pull him.
Bilbo was practically shivering with joy as they entered the tall wildflowers. He quickly unlaced his fingers from Thorin's and began spinning around in the billowing plants. The wind was blowing hard as it often does on the mountain plains. Bilbo outstretched his arms, his dirty coat flowing like a cape behind him. A squeak came out from him as he began spinning around, his head tilted up towards the sun. To Thorin, this seemed almost uncharacteristic of the tiny Halfling; being that the boy had spent most of their trip quiet. The older dwarf smiled warmly, watching the boy collapse in a small heap in the flowers. They seemed to bend over him in a protective manner.
"Dizzy." Bilbo giggled.
Thorin leaned over to little boy. "Well, you were spinning in circles."
"Flowers are fun." Bilbo continued his hands covering his eyes.
"Are they?" Thorin looked at the orange, pink, and red plants.
Bilbo hummed contentedly. "They're like…"
Thorin's happy demeanor slowed. "Like what, Bilbo?"
"Like Mama's garden."
Thorin pursed his lips. Of course. "Then your mother had a beautiful garden."
Bilbo's sad mood lightened immediately. "Mama's garden is the best in all of the Shire!"
Thorin grinned a bit. "Oh?"
"Umhm." The fauntling nodded. "She has roses, daffydils, chrysth-th-thimurmurs, ponies, and…and daisies!"
The dwarf chuckled. "Quite a lot of flowers."
"Mhm! When we get home…can I have a garden?"
Thorin started at the question. "A garden?"
"Umhm. One like Mama's."
"I don't…I don't see why not."
Bilbo practically threw himself at Thorin. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
Thorin stroked Bilbo's downy hair. "You're quite welcome, Bilbo."
"Can we play a game?" Bilbo asked, pulling out of the hug to look Thorin in the eyes.
The dwarf titled his head. "I don't see why not. What games do hobbits play?"
"Bullroarer!" Bilbo squealed delightedly, squirming out of Thorin's hold.
Thorin's eyes widened considerably as he did not know what exactly a 'Bullroarer' was.
Bilbo finally was able wiggle out of the raven-haired's embrace. He scrambled around the ground for a bit before he picked up a small stick. Thorin gave it a questioning look. That is, until Bilbo started swinging it around like a sword.
"You'll never catch me, Gobble King!" The hobbit shrieked with a huge impish smile spread across his face.
Thorin smirked. "I do believe you mean Goblin King."
"I'm Bullroarer Took! I'll chop off your head, Gobble King!" Bilbo continued, completely ignoring Thorin's correction.
The dwarf king snickered. "Well, Bullroarer Took, you will have to defeat me first."
That was all the permission Bilbo needed. With a high-pitched shriek, the little hobbit jumped Thorin. The dwarf staggered back as the fauntling attacked him with a stick. With a playful roar, Thorin lunged forward trying to grab the boy.
"You dare attack the Goblin King?" He demanded with a smile.
"I'll chop your head off!" Bilbo laughed, dancing out of the way of Thorin's hands.
"You can never have my head!" Thorin growled, making a grab for Bilbo again. He did his best to swallow down the memories of Azog.
Bilbo simply avoided Thorin's hands again; for a child, he was quick—very quick.
"Addercop, addercop, just won't stop!" Bilbo chirped, thwacking the dwarf's arm with his stick.
"Oh, you've done it now boy!" Thorin roared, grabbing Bilbo into a huge bear hug.
Bilbo squealed gleefully. "No!"
"You can never escape me."
"Mister Dwalin! Help me! The Gobble King wants to eat me!" Bilbo cried out as Thorin blew a raspberry on the boy's cheek.
"No one will come to your aid, Bull—ow!" Thorin snapped his head back as Dwalin whacked his friend's head with a stick.
"I'll be takin' back my friend now." Dwalin snarled playfully as he plucked Bilbo from Thorin's arms.
The tattooed dwarf was wielding two sticks, Thorin noticed. The bastard. Rubbing his head, Thorin pulled himself up to his full height. He drew in every ounce of his kingly air.
"You dare summon one of your warriors against me?" He demanded.
Dwalin looked down upon the boy. "What d'ye say lad, can we take 'im?"
Bilbo gave a determined look at the raven haired dwarf before raising with his little stick with a yell. Then, using his big feet, he ran in the other direction of Thorin, screaming at the top of his lungs. Both dwarves looked confusedly at each other. Dwalin seemed the more taken aback.
"That was…unexpected."
Thorin blinked. "I…did I do something wrong?"
"No I think yer fine."
"Then what—"
With a sudden yell, Bilbo appeared from behind Thorin and made a grand jump for his back. He used his small stick to hold on to the big dwarf's back as his arms wrapped around his neck.
"I've got you!" Bilbo cheered.
Thorin pretended to make a dying noise. "Oh…oh no!"
"Get 'im Bilbo! Get the sorry bastard!" Dwalin shouted encouragingly.
Thorin shot the other dwarf a warning look.
Dwalin made an attempt to look sheepish. "Get the sorry bachelor, is what I mean'.
"Ugh, much better!" Thorin choked out sardonically, as he fell to one knee.
Bilbo laughed.
"Oh no…I'm dying…I'm dying…I'm dead." And with an undignified grunt, he fell face flat onto the ground.
Dwalin gave an amused chuckle.
Bilbo furrowed his brow worriedly, and scooted up further on Thorin's back.
"Thorin?"
The raven haired dwarf did not answer.
Bilbo's chest heaved painfully. "Dah?"
Thorin still did not answer.
The hobbit shook the dwarf's shoulder. "You're not dead…right Dah?"
The dwarf king cracked his blue eyes open just a bit. "No Bilbo, I'm not dead."
"Yay. I won?"
"Yes you won."
Bilbo gave a cheer, before squeaking indignantly as Thorin got up. The older dwarf's arm swept back to support the Halfling while he stood. Bilbo's arms wrapped around the dwarf's neck automatically. Dwalin laughed again, dropping his sticks to the ground.
"Two sticks, Dwalin? Really?" Thorin snorted.
Dwalin rolled his eyes. "Let's get some lunch, aye?"
Bilbo bounced excitedly from Thorin's back. "Lunch! I want lunch!"
"It sounds as though our hobbit is hungry." Thorin chuckled.
"Then we best feed 'im." Dwalin guffawed. "That hobbit is scary when 'e's hungry."
"Rawr." Bilbo giggled.
Thorin hefted Bilbo. "Then we best get some food."
Together they walked back to their packs and sat down to eat their lunch. The sun's light shimmered warmly down on them, and by the time that they had finished their meal, Bilbo had already curled up on Thorin's lap for his nap. The raven haired dwarf shifted so he could get a bit more comfortable before he rested his hand on the small back of the hobbit.
"Ye really look like yer used ta this, Thorin." Dwalin observed, packing away the leftovers.
"Thank Mahal I had Fíli to practice on." Thorin chuckled.
"Aye, but still, ye look as if ye've been parentin' 'im fer all his life." Dwalin said.
Thorin hefted the child. "Really?"
"Aye. 'Haps it was destiny fer ye ta meet that lil' boy." Dwalin smiled. "Ne'er seen ye happier."
"Fíli is my heir and I love him like a son but…this is different. Bilbo is different."
"Aye. Yer as close ta a parent that 'e's got. Fíli's at least got his mam."
"Mahal. Dís' other child has been born already, huh?"
"Considerin' the last time we saw her was six—"
"Five."
"—six years ago. Aye, that baby she was gonna 'ave is probably already five years old."
"He'll be as old as Bilbo." Thorin noted absentmindedly.
"The lad'll 'ave a playmate, then." Dwalin nodded.
Thorin sighed. "She'll kill me for not being there for her child."
"Well, we were doin' things." Dwalin admitted. "Doubt that'll mean much ta her, but we were collectin' coin ta help support 'em."
"I hope Dís will see it that way."
"Well, you'll be bringin' Bilbo home too. I'm sure she'll understand with the boy."
Thorin smiled and nodded before frowning. "Do you think they'll accept him?"
"Whether they like it or not, their king chose 'im." Dwalin stated thoughtfully, scratching his beard. "And, well… bein' as though ye've adopted the lad, 'e's like yer son."
Thorin's furrowed brow softened.
"My son." He whispered, and then he gave victorious grin to his tattooed friend. "And I didn't even have to get married."
Dwalin rolled his eyes. "Fer the love o' Mahal, Thorin."
The black haired dwarf just grinned cheekily.
"Right well, let's get a move on." Dwalin snorted, standing abruptly. "We can reach the front gates by the evenin' if we move."
"Sound's good." Thorin said, setting Bilbo down to shoulder his pack.
Once that was safely on his back, he grabbed the sleeping fauntling, holding him lightly. Dwalin tried to suppress his growing smile but failed miserably. Thorin didn't mind, why would he? He wanted to help this little hobbit who'd had traumatizing experiences, and if that meant being more emotional and well…not Thorin like, then fine. He could live with that.
The two dwarves eagerly began their final trek. Both of them hummed a few songs or sang a few shanties they knew. Bilbo stayed asleep, carefully tucked up against Thorin's chest. Occasionally the boy would hum or whimper and Thorin would be right there with a steady, soothing hand to the child's back.
"Oi, Thorin." Dwalin said suddenly, at some-point before sunset.
"Hm?"
"Yer our leader, right?"
Thorin frowned, not sure where this was going. "Yes."
Dwalin nodded. "Then we need ta get ye to learn how ta tell time. The gate guards 'ave probably been expectin' us fer years."
Thorin grimaced. If he wasn't holding Bilbo, he would've smacked his friend across the back of his head. "I doubt it's been years."
"Ye told Dís ye'd be back in a few months."
"And it was a few months."
"Quite a few."
"Shut up, Dwalin."
The tattooed dwarf sniggered. "I lied. Yer goin' ta be in so much trouble when we get inside."
Thorin winced but said nothing as they continued to walk up the sloping landscape.
"Dah?" Bilbo mumbled sleepily.
"You up?"
Bilbo gave a tiny yawn before looking around. He saw the forest behind them. The two older dwarves were walking towards the huge mountains. A large gate looming ahead of them. The hobbit cocked his head to the side. Then he looked at Thorin with large, curious hazel eyes.
Thorin ruffled the boy's curly brown hair. "Welcome to Ered Lûin, Bilbo."
"Home?" The boy asked quietly.
Thorin nodded. "Home."
Bilbo smiled and wiggled, trying to get out of the dwarf's arms so he could walk himself. Thorin obligingly set him down. Bilbo's large, bootless feet landed on the ground, crunching the rock and gravel. It took Bilbo a minute for his feet to adjust to the rocky ground, but he was able to do so quickly. With a grin, and his hand threaded in Thorin's, he walked on.
It wasn't long before two dwarvish horns sounded, announcing the news of arrival. If it had been any dwarf, they probably would've sounded the drums. But their king was returning. It was high time to give him an open welcome.
Thorin winced. "She'll meet us before I even get to my house."
Dwalin only chuckled.
"Who?" Bilbo cooed.
The guards at the front gates, opened the large rock doors. Both Dwalin and Thorin breathed in the refreshing smell of cool mountain stone as it bombarded them. Bilbo wrinkled his nose; the air smelled stale.
"My sister." Thorin answered, after a while of appreciating the smells of home. Might as well enjoy it while I can.
"My auntie?" Bilbo wondered.
Thorin laughed nervously. "Yes, but you might want to wait before you call her that. She doesn't know she has a nephew."
"Okay." The hobbit peeped.
The dwarves who were milling about greeted the returning dwarves eagerly, although they sent wary, suspicious looks towards Bilbo. Thorin only tightened his grip on the fauntling's hand. He did not like the way they were staring. But of course, he didn't get the chance to think much on it.
"Thorin!" A voice roared.
Thorin closed his eyes and pursed his lips before handing Bilbo to Dwalin. The hobbit gave a squeak of protest, but Thorin looked at him sternly. Bilbo nodded and hid behind the tattooed dwarf's leg. With a pained sigh, Thorin looked up to see the approaching raven haired dwarrowdam. Her blue skirts of her dress swirling around her legs in a flurry. Her long locks of black braids flew behind her like a mane. A few beads decorated her healthy fluffy beard. Her bright blue eyes burned angrily. She came to a halting stop in front of the two male dwarves.
"Hello Dís." Thorin grinned anxiously.
The female looked him up and down before bring her arm up and slapping him swiftly across the cheek. Thorin grunted and stumbled back a bit. The woman crossed her arms and stared at him murderously.
"You didn't write!" She yelled angrily. "And you left me and the boys alone for six years without a single word! Six years, Thorin!"
Dwalin grinned smugly. Bilbo tried not to cry.
"What do you have to say for yourself, you blockhead?" Dís demanded.
"I'm really, truly sorry?" Thorin offered weakly.
Another slap.
"I thought you were dead!"
"Surprise?"
Slap.
Thorin rubbed his stinging cheek. "You really must learn another way to communicate with me other than violence."
"Mahal, I can't believe you!" Dís bellowed.
Thorin grinned again. "That's shocking. Many people find me trustworthy."
His sister growled.
"Stop!" A shrill voice yelled.
Dwalin, Thorin and Dís looked down in surprise. Bilbo had managed to worm his way from Dwalin's grip without him knowing and was now tugging angrily at the dwarrowdam's skirts. Dís' blue eyes widened before looking to her brother incredulously. Bilbo pulled away immediately and stood defensively in front of Thorin. His brow was furrowed and his tiny lips drawn into a tight line. His arms were held out stiffly as if trying to block the dwarrowdam from the dwarf.
"Dís," Thorin said, "may I introduce you to Bilbo."
At his name, Bilbo gave up all facades of being a brave warrior and jumped up onto Thorin's torso. Then with only the capability that toddlers have, he crawled his way up to where he was wrapped around Thorin's head. Both Dwalin and Dís tried to bite back their laughter. Thorin spluttered indignantly and tried to see past Bilbo's arms.
"You can't hurt him." Bilbo snapped irritably, looking at Dís.
"Bilbo," Thorin gasped, blowing a flap of the little boy's coat out of his mouth, "she's always like this. I'm not in any danger."
"Aye little one." Dís agreed. "As much of a blockhead as my brother is, I wouldn't hurt him…much."
"Hitting people is mean." Bilbo growled furiously. "Meanie."
Dís looked affronted.
Dwalin looked as if he were going to have a heyday.
"Bilbo, get off of my face." Thorin growled.
"Nuh-uh."
"Now."
"Nope."
"Bilbo, this is my sister."
The hobbit's eyes widened, and looked at Dís with a bit of horror.
With a bit of mischief, Dís smiled, and gave a small bow. "A pleasure to meet you little one."
Bilbo slowly slid off of Thorin and hid behind the male dwarf's leg, peeking out shyly. Thorin rolled his eyes and looked behind him. He gave Bilbo a pointed look.
"Aren't you going to say hello?"
"Nope."
"Bilbo."
"Dah."
Dís stiffened.
Finally with a defeated look, Bilbo came out from behind Thorin. "I'm Bilbo Baggins of Bag End."
"Lady Dís at your service." She murmured numbly, before looking at her brother. "We need to talk."
Thorin sighed and nodded.
Dwalin coughed a bit awkwardly. "If ye don' mind, majesties, I'll take my leave now."
"Go on Dwalin, I will meet with you tomorrow." Thorin dismissed.
The tattooed dwarf nodded.
"Mister Dwalin?" Bilbo asked quietly.
The Dwalin reached over and tousled Bilbo's curls. "I'll see ye tomorrow, lad."
"M'kay." The hobbit answered unsurely.
Dwalin walked away quickly.
The next minute was Dís and Thorin standing awkwardly. Finally Dís sighed exasperatedly. Thorin looked at her expectantly.
"You're so emotionally constipated Thorin." She sighed.
Thorin winced.
"Come on, I've got a bit of stew cooking." Dís uttered, leading them deeper into the mountain.
"Sounds good." Thorin murmured, reaching down and picking up Bilbo.
The hobbit lad clung onto him with all his might.
Dís led them to the common dwellings, where houses were set up all around, stacked on top of each other like pueblos. Wearily, she unlocked the door to a larger one, and stepped inside. Thorin followed her.
"Fíli, I'm home." She called out.
Thorin looked up at soon as the blond child walked in. His big brown eyes looked up at the two adults and hobbits eagerly. The lit up immediately at recognition of the male dwarf.
"Uncle!" He greeted with a smile.
Thorin grinned. "Fíli."
"Amâd!" A voice cried, as a small brunette dwarfling rushed out and into the living area. He stopped at a sudden halt as he saw Thorin. His eyes widened and he hid behind Fíli. His little lip quivered. Thorin looked at Fíli and Dís with wide, surprised eyes.
"Go on, Kíli, say 'hi'." The blond urged. "This is our Uncle."
Kíli peeked out from behind his brother. "Hi."
Thorin smiled gently, kneeling down to one knee. "Hello Kíli, it's nice to finally meet you."
The brunette gave a nervous smile before his eyes darted to Bilbo. He cocked his head curiously at the sight of the hobbit. Bilbo in return, looked curiously at the dwarfling. It was a tense quiet for a second. Kíli was the first to speak, though.
"Why are your feet so big?"
Dís and Thorin sucked in their breath.
Bilbo looked offended, before storming his features. "Why are your feet too small?"
Fíli sucked in a sharp breath.
Kíli only smiled cheerfully. "I like you!"
Bilbo blinked in surprise.
"Do you wanna play?" Kíli asked excitedly.
Bilbo looked hesitant.
"I've got blocks!" The brunette added temptingly.
Bilbo looked to Thorin for permission. The raven-haired dwarf nodded. Bilbo grinned and wiggle out of the dwarf's grip. He stuck out his hand at the approach of Fíli.
"I'm Bilbo." He cheeped.
Fíli smirked. "Fíli."
They shook hands like civilized people until Kíli pushed his unassuming brother out of the way. He grabbed Bilbo's hand and shook it mightily, before dragging the fauntling away with happy chirps. Fíli followed grumbling.
"Make sure to get Bilbo a cup of soup, Fíli!" Dís called after them.
"Okay, Amâd." The blond called back.
Thorin took a minute to process everything before looking at the unamused Dís. "I suppose I have to explain things?"
"Aye, and you can do it before your supper too." She snapped.
It took a good two hours to tell his sister everything, in which, during that period of time she took pity on him and gave him a bowl of stew. He accepted it gratefully. By the end of his spiel, his third bowl of soup was long gone, and the candles were half way burned. The children who were in the other room playing, had gotten quiet long ago.
"It doesn't give you an excuse for not writing." Dís laughed slowly. "But I understand now."
Thorin inclined his head.
"Now about Bilbo, are you sure this is what you want?" She asked. "He's not a dwarf, and people'll treat him as such."
Thorin gave a warning glance to the adjacent room where the children were. "I know. But I have made my decision. When I see Balin next, I will ask him to draw up some papers for a legal adoption."
Dís nodded.
Thorin reclined in his chair.
"He seem nice." She finally admitted.
"He's trouble, I'll tell you that." Thorin groaned with a sleepy grin. "Ran off in search of fairies, got himself kidnapped, and then on top of that attacked by wolves."
Dís looked a bit thunderstruck.
"But he's a good lad." The dwarf yawned. "A very good lad."
Dís shook her head with a chuckle. "Come on. You're tired. I'll walk you and your boy back to your house."
Thorin stood up staggering. "No need, Dís. You have both your boys. I can manage to walk to the house over."
"All of your things are still there." She said.
The dwarf nodded before walking into the other room. He smiled at the sight. Bilbo and Kíli had fallen asleep on top of each other next to a set of scattered rock building blocks. Fíli was nodding off on the couch with a book upon his lap. The sight warmed Thorin's heart. If his nephews could accept their strange cousin, then maybe other dwarves could too. Walking over to them, he picked up the sleeping Bilbo as carefully as he could. He placed a light kiss to Kíli's forehead. Dís followed closely behind him and picked up her small son. He then walked to Fíli and kissed him on his cheek. Dís shook him awake.
"Come on, love." She cooed, "time for bed."
Fíli groaned but staggered sleepily.
Thorin nodded to his sister before leaving the room and then her house. The mountain air was cool and crisp. Lanterns lit the house row. He walked the house over, and fumbled for the key that was hidden inside a notch of the door. Once he found it, he unlocked it and stepped inside. His home smelled clean, and he probably had Dís to thank for that. His home was not as roomy as his sister's. His only had one room, his living area and then the kitchen. But that was all he needed. Walking slowly to his room, he settled the slumbering hobbit onto his bed. Then with a tiredness he had not realized he had, Thorin tugged off his coat and cloak and armor, laying them down on a chair near his bed. His weapons were shed as well. He kicked off his boots and socks. He then picked up Bilbo and gently prodded the fauntling awake. Bilbo moaned and sluggishly opened his eyes.
"Help me get you ready for bed." Thorin whispered.
Bilbo nodded drunkenly.
While nodding off, he and Thorin struggled his arms out of his coat. Then with care, Thorin unbuttoned the little gold waist coat and pulled it off, folding it in a neat pile with the hobbit's coat. He also took off Bilbo's suspenders so that way the fauntling could have better comfort asleep. He put the boy's clothes next to his own.
Bilbo had fallen back asleep a while ago, so Thorin set him down and pulled open the furs and covers of his bed. He crawled in before grabbing Bilbo and settling him on his chest as he had when they were traveling. Thorin then pulled the covers over the both of them.
The hobbits eyes blinked open sleepily for a bit.
"Will you sing a lullaby?" Bilbo whispered groggily.
"I don't know many." Thorin admitted sleepily.
"The one Mama used to sing." The hobbit pressed.
Thorin hummed. "The one about the bumblebee?"
"Umhm."
"Alright." The dwarf nodded, trying to recollect the words that the fauntling would sing to himself. "Only if you go to sleep, though."
"M'kay. Nighty night, Dah."
The raven haired, exile dwarf king laid his head back and looked up at the gray stone ceiling. The words finally came and he prepared his voice. Bilbo's eyes barely stayed open.
"Hush my little bumble bee,
Hush my tiny dandelion,
Mama's gonna be right here,
She will always be near.
"Quiet my roaring lion,
Quiet my howling wolf,
Papa will protect you,
Papa will always guide you.
"Sleep my twinkling star,
Sleep my glowing moon,
Nothing can separate our love,
Nothing can separate us from you."
And then the dwarf added his own verse.
"Rest my little fox,
Rest my tiny prince,
I will stand beside you,
I will always guide you—
Your place will be with me."
Thorin smiled, before resting his arm over the hobbit's back. "Goodnight, Bilbo."
The fauntling closed his eyes and snuggled onto his foster father's chest a bit more. Thorin closed his eyes and listened to the child's soft breaths. A peaceful smile graced his facial features.
"Goodnight Mimel Thurkhkhai."
• • •
Far over the valleys, in the Shire a worried hobbit mother kept a careful eye on the post. It had been a little over a month since she had last seen her son, and her temper was wearing thin. She had sent a letter out to a dear friend of hers seeking aid and had yet to get a reply.
Why was that wizard always so blasted late?
