"Aunt Prim!"
Primula Baggins laughed and eagerly reached down to pull her two nieces into hugs. First was Mithril, with her wild, chocolate brown curls that could suffocate a person, and then Minriel, who all but tripped into Primula's arms.
"Oh, I've missed you," Primula cooed. She examined the girls before her, noting that with the exception of a bit more height, nothing was different about them from the last time. "How've you been?"
"Good!" Mithril beamed up at her aunt, and Primula reached down to ruffle her curls gently. She turned briefly from them to hug Bilbo as the hobbit ambled up the path, having been far outstripped by the two girls who had sprinted ahead.
"How's the baby?" he asked.
Primula adopted a motherly smile on her face. "She's well," she told him. "She's very well. Sleeping now."
"And Frodo?"
As if to answer Bilbo's question, a young hobbit came bounding up the lane behind Bilbo. Dark curls bounced as he ran, falling into wide blue eyes. He was covered in dirt and grass from a day of romping through the forest, but he looked thrilled.
"Ma!" he shouted. "Pip said there's visitors coming! Have they-" his question drifted to a stop as he spotted the company standing in his front yard, and his mouth was left to hang open at the sight of the strange hobbit, two children, one elf, and four dwarven guards now staring at him.
"Umm, hello," he managed.
Minriel burst into laughter. Doubling over, her chortles only intensified as Mithril elbowed her in the ribs. A blush overtook Frodo's cheeks, and with a final scowl to Minriel, Mithril clopped down the path to her cousin.
"Hello Frodo," she started. She kept her voice cheery, not wanting to scare the ten year old. "I'm your cousin Mithril. That oversized klutz is Min." She jabbed a finger in Minriel's direction, and finally the half elf stopped laughing.
"Oversized?" she demanded. "I think you mean to say that you're little!"
Mithril harrumphed and lifted her chin. "I do not," she stated. She had to crane her neck to look at her cousin, something she despised greatly.
"Girls," warned Bilbo. He wore a slightly pained yet loving expression on his face, one that spoke of having put up with many similar quarrels. Frodo was looking back and forth between the trio with an amused expression, and Bilbo sighed and moved to his nephew to pull him into a hug.
"Hello Frodo," he said. "It's been a long time."
"Yes Sir," Frodo answered. Though he had by now figured out that this was his Uncle Bilbo, his father had raised him to be a respectful hobbit, and he would show Bilbo the utmost manners.
Bilbo snorted. "Please don't," he said. "Call me Uncle."
Frodo nodded. "Yes Uncle," he answered.
Primula cleared her throat. "Let's go inside, shall we?" she suggested. She could see several neighbors eyeing them from over their fences, pausing in the middle of elevensies. Her family quickly followed, and the door was shut behind them.
Drogo was found in one of the many rooms of Bag-End, rocking gently a small cradle that held his daughter. He grinned at Bilbo as his cousin entered the room, standing to clasp Bilbo's shoulder.
"Isn't she beautiful," he murmured.
"Aye," Bilbo agreed. He felt a small smile coming to his lips as he surveyed the hobbit, with her tuft of sandy hair. Though neither Mithril nor Minriel had looked anything like her when they were babes, Bilbo nonetheless felt old memories resurfacing.
"What's her name?" he asked.
Drogo smiled fondly. "Lila."
Bilbo nodded. "A good name." He patted Drogo on the back, and his cousin grinned.
They left the room soon after. They didn't want to chance waking Lila, and Bilbo was feeling suspicious about the lack of noise coming from the rest of the house. Dwarves and children, all made noise. Silence, Bilbo had learned, generally meant mischief was afoot.
The dwarves were sitting down to a hearty meal, Tauriel and Primula sitting at the head of the table. The two talked in quiet voices, and Bilbo noted with some amusement how the dwarves automatically catered to them. Judging by the slightly scared looks they traded, Bilbo suspected that Dis's training had worked its magic.
He moved to the living room and found Minriel, Mithril, and Frodo sitting by the fire. Mithril had pulled off her boots, having decided to discard them while in the Shire, and she and Minriel watched as Frodo inspected them curiously.
"But what do you need them for?" he asked.
"To protect my feet," Mithril explained. "I'm only half hobbit, so my feet aren't as tough as yours." She wriggled her toes as she spoke.
"Which means," Minriel added, "that her feet are also much more ticklish than yours."
Mithril tensed, but wasn't fast enough. Before she could move away Minriel had leapt at her, and the two shrieked and rolled around on the floor.
"Frodo, help me," cried Mithril. "Get her shoes off!"
Mithril held Minriel down while Frodo pulled off her boots, and Mithril shot Minriel an evil grin.
"You forget, cousin dear, that your feet are even more ticklish than mine," she sang. She gave Frodo a quick nod, and as the young hobbit tickled Minriel's feet the three children erupted into giggles.
Bilbo shook his head, trading looks with Drogo. Drogo then clapped his hands together, and the three bolted upright.
"Time to eat," he commanded.
Immediately the children rushed to the kitchen, taking their places at the table. They ate quickly, then, before Bilbo could as much as call out to them, they bounded out of Bag-End and down the hill.
"Should I be worried?" he asked Primula.
She laughed. "They'll probably go to the forest to look for elves; Frodo does it all the time. He takes after his uncle that way."
"Hmm," mused Bilbo. "Maybe one day he'll go on an adventure of his own."
Primula's face twisted into a light scowl at that. "I do hope not," she stated. She shook her head. "Yours turned out fine, but most quests are nothing but trouble."
They spent a month in the Shire. There was plenty of room in Bag-End for the entire company, and Frodo was more than happy to have his distant cousins visit. He and the girls spent the day romping through town, and the day after they arrived, Frodo proudly introduced Mithril to her cousin Peregrin Took.
The hobbit, two years younger than Frodo, was down at the market when Frodo located him. He was hiding behind a barrel, peering around him anxiously, and Frodo sighed. Pippin was always getting into trouble, and generally with his best friend Merry. Where one was, the other was never far off.
"What are you hiding from Pip?" he called.
Pippin whirled to face Frodo, holding a finger to his lips.
"Shh," he cautioned. "Merry and I are playing a game. He's trying to find me." Then he yelped and ducked behind Frodo as Merry came into view, and Frodo resisted the urge to sigh.
"Frodo!"
Merry jogged over, a grin on his face. "Who's this?" he asked.
Frodo grinned, happy to introduce his cousins. "This is Mithril and Minriel," he said. "My cousins from Erebor."
Merry gave the girls a flirtatious smile and bowed as low as he was capable. "Hello, ladies," he greeted them. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Merria-"
"Erebor?" Pippin asked, revealing himself as he noticed Mithril and Minriel for the first time. "Wait- that makes you my cousin too!" He pointed eagerly to Mithril, and with a small smile she nodded, ignoring Minriel's amused snickers from behind her.
"Mithril Bagginshield," she greeted him. She used the combination of both her fathers' names that she and Minriel had come up with many years ago.
Pippin's eyes grew wide. "I'm Pippin," he said. He held out his hand, withdrew it, held it out again, and then simply leapt forward and hugged Mithril. She staggered under his weight, but managed to hold herself upright.
"I'm Min," Minriel added.
Mithril pushed Pippin off her and allowed Minriel to receive a hug from him. Not to be outdone, Merry bestowed both girls with hugs as well.
Though Merry and Pippin were somewhat reluctant to pause their game of tag, they followed the girls and Frodo to the edge of the Shire. There they settled down in the tall grass, joking and laughing amongst themselves until the light began to fade from the sky.
The rest of the month found the five of them together, and soon they added Frodo's best friend Samwise Gamgee to their group. The son of the gardener who kept Bag-End in order, Sam often followed behind his father as the older hobbit tended to the flowers Bilbo had spent so many years cultivating. Even the oak tree Bilbo had planted was beginning to rise, and Sam had taken a special liking to it.
The day before the company was due to return to Erebor, Mithril and Minriel were careful to spend time with each of their friends. These friends, like all others, had been adopted into their ever growing family.
Around midday Mithril found her thoughts drifting away from their current activity. Sam had, the day before, expressed an interest in learning how to braid, and now Minriel sat in the grass several feet away, demonstrating on her own raven hair. The four hobbits stared at her, nodding softly as she explained the steps, but Mithril just couldn't focus. She already knew how to braid, though she had never been very good at it. And so she lay back in the grass, staring up at the fluffy white clouds drifting lazily overhead. She found herself, as she often did while in the Shire, thinking about her mother. This was where Josie had been born, and where she had died. Mithril loved her fathers, but she did often miss her mother. A task that was hard, considering that she hadn't met the hobbit, and didn't know exactly who she was missing, but she guessed that she missed the chance to find out.
She began to sing softly under her breath, a soft, sad song. When she had finished she found that, although Frodo, Sam, Minriel, and Merry were still talking, Pippin was now staring wide eyed at her, having crawled over.
"What was that you were singing?" he asked. "I thought you only sang happy songs."
Mithril nodded. "I'm a firm believer that a happy song can cure all," she told him.
"But that one's sad," Pippin commented.
Mithril sighed. "It was a song my mother used to sing, one she made up for Da after his quest," she informed her cousin. "Da taught it to me so I had something of her. I sing it sometimes when I miss her."
Pippin blinked. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"
Mithril shrugged. "It's fine," she promised. "She was your aunt."
Pippin cocked his head, and then nodded slowly. "Can you sing the song again?" he asked.
Mithril nodded, and then cleared her throat.
"Home is behind, the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow, to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadows, cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall fade."
They stopped again at Rivendell and Lothlórien on their way back to the mountain. Again Bilbo kept his eye on Haldir, but the elf was careful to keep his interactions with Minriel completely platonic. Still, Bilbo could sense a fascination within the elf for Bilbo's niece, and he fought a growing protective urge in him.
They then made for Beorn's house. In the past Bilbo had avoided visiting his friend's lands, knowing how the shape shifter hated dwarves. He sent the dwarven guards ahead now, trusting Tauriel to keep him and the girls safe.
Beorn's hounds greeted them at the edge of his property, and Bilbo chuckled at the fact that Beorn was expecting them. Sure enough, Beorn met them all with wide grins in front of his house, and Mithril bounded forward into his arms.
"Hedgehog!" he boomed. "It's been twenty-two years! You've grown big!"
Mithril grinned at the sound of the nickname Beorn had given her so many years ago. "Hi Beorn," she greeted him. She felt suddenly like a two year old again, and as Beorn swung her around she allowed herself to relax and descend into childish giggles.
"And Minriel," Beorn called. "You were only this big when I saw you last." He spaced his hands about a foot apart, and Minriel giggled. Then she squealed as Beorn lifted her into a hug.
"Bilbo Baggins, you've kept them from me for too long," he stated.
Bilbo blushed.
"Yes, well, umm-" His excuses were cut short as he too was swept up in a great bear's hug, and as Minriel's eyes widened at the shape shifter's casual treatment of her uncle, Mithril simply chuckled.
"Tauriel, yes?" asked Beorn. He surveyed the elf curiously, remembering seeing her during and after the Battle of Five Armies so many years ago.
Tauriel nodded, stepping forward and bowing. "Greetings, Master Beorn."
"And to you," Beorn responded. "Is that king of yours still isolating himself in his forest?"
Tauriel stiffened slightly. "Thranduil is no longer my king," she told him. "I reside in Erebor now, and Thorin is my king. His nephew Kili is my husband."
Beorn blinked; this was an unexpected turn indeed. "I think you have a tale or two to tell," he wagered.
Tauriel offered a thin smile. "I would think so."
Soon they were settled around Beorn's table, and as they ate together they traded stories. Beorn listened in rapt attention, and as Bilbo brought up the most famous prank war in the eastern lands Beorn descended into laughter.
The group spent the majority of their weeklong visit outdoors. All were avid lovers of nature, and Beorn's gardens, with their larger than average foliage and wildlife, all completely tame, were a small step from heaven.
At last they departed, and to Bilbo's surprise they found an elven entourage awaiting them at the edge of Mirkwood.
"King Thranduil has requested that since you have sent away your dwarven guards, we accompany you to the city of Dale."
Bilbo raised an eyebrow, but graciously accepted the guides. Though after his first journey through Mirkwood so long ago he had never had any more problems with the forest, he still worried constantly.
True to their word, the guards departed with them at Dale, and Bilbo told them to tell Thranduil that the girls were perfectly fine, thank you very much.
In Dale, Bilbo sought out Bard's house, where he always spent a few days on his trips to and from the Shire. To his surprise, when the maid answered the door there were tears in her eyes.
"Lord Baggins," she greeted him. "You've arrived just in time. Hurry, before it's too late."
Bilbo frowned. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked. He followed the maid into the house, pausing as she turned back to him with startled brown eyes.
"I thought you were here for the Lord Bard," she said. Confusion creased her brows.
"Of course I am," Bilbo said. "I always visit when I pass through Dale. Is something the matter?"
The woman nodded, and Bilbo was alarmed to see her lip tremble. "The time is come for him to return to Valinor," she whispered.
Bilbo's mouth dropped open, but he quickly shook his mind clear. Surrounded as he was with dwarves and elves, two races that aged at a far slower rate than hobbits and men, it was often easy to forget how fragile the men of Dale were. Bard had already been middle aged when he had first met Bilbo; of course he would have aged.
Bard was lying in his bed when Bilbo arrived at his rooms. He was covered in fur blankets and clothed in an embroidered tunic, and Bilbo couldn't help but think of how far the lord had come from the Bargeman he had met. Bard's hair had long since greyed, wrinkles now prominent on his face, and when the hobbit entered he was asleep. As Minriel tripped over the doorway- how, Bilbo had no idea- Bard woke. His eyes came to meet Bilbo's, and he smiled warmly.
"Bilbo," he greeted. His voice was shaky with age, and Bilbo resisted tears as he went to sit by the bed.
"Hello Bard," he whispered. "How are you?"
Bard chuckled softly. "Not as well as I used to be," he confessed. He suddenly erupted into a fit of coughing, and Bilbo and Tauriel helped him to lean forward as he cleared his throat. As the Lord settled back onto his pillows Bilbo noticed Minriel and Mithril leaning against the wall, watching Bard with wide eyes.
"Hello girls," he called. "No greeting for me then?"
Minriel was the first to recover, stepping forward with a forced smile. "I would never deny you," she choked. She stooped down into a hug, and as she pulled away Mithril followed suit.
"How were your travels?" Bard asked.
Bilbo snorted. "Our travels were fine," he promised. He reached out to take Bard's hand in his. "When last we met you were as fit as Fili and Kili," he noted. "How long have you been ill for?"
Bard rolled his eyes. "I am not ill, Bilbo, I am old. All fades in the end. Now it is my time."
Bilbo nodded. His tears were becoming harder to hold back, for he knew that Bard was right. This became all the more clear as Bard erupted into yet another fit of coughing, and again Bilbo and Tauriel helped to support him.
Finally Bard settled back again, and when he did Bilbo was alarmed to see his eyes fluttering open and shut. He shook Bard's arm.
"Bard," he called. "Bard, stay with me. Come on now, stay with me."
Bard sighed. "Farewell Bilbo," he whispered. "Enjoy your family, treasure them above all else, for they are worth all the world. Tauriel, you are a fine elf and a wonderful soldier. I am proud to have fought beside you and to have known you. Mithril, Minriel," and now the lord forced his eyes open, searching the room for the girls. "Do not be afraid to live and love. The worst thing you can do in life is to hide from who you are."
The girls nodded, and Bard smiled, pleased. He allowed his eyes to drift shut, and his senses slowly began to fall away, one by one. At last all he was aware of was Bilbo's hand clasped in his own, the small hobbit's hand shaking violently. He forced one last smile to his lips, or at least hoped he did. He couldn't tell if it worked.
"Goodbye, Master Burglar," he whispered.
Then Bard the Dragon-Slayer took his last breath, and went to Valinor to meet his wife.