Disclaimer: I do not own any familiar characters/settings/plot featured in this story. They all belong to (most likely rolling in his grave) J.R.R. Tolkien.


Chapter Forty-Seven


Bilbo squirmed on a stone bench as Radagast examined his eyes and ears like a healer would with a child. Occasionally the wizard would even lean in close and sniff him like a dog, and mutter something under his breath. If it wasn't for the fact that Thorin was sitting next to him and glaring at the wizard, then he would have spoken up in complaint. As it was, the only thing keeping Thorin from tackling Radagast was Bilbo's hand on his knee.

Behind Radagast, Gandalf and Lord Elrond stood watching the proceedings with vastly different expressions. Gandalf looked like a puffed up hen; angry and protective on behalf of his chick. Elrond, on the other hand, looked curious and considering as he studied Bilbo with unblinking gray eyes.

"Well? Can you do it, Radagast?" Gandalf finally asked, watching the other wizard with hawk eyes.

Radagast gave one last sniff to Bilbo's hair before leaning back and wrinkling his nose. "Yes. The link is still weak enough to destroy."

"Destroy?" Thorin repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing. Bilbo tightened his grip in warning.

"Mmm. How else do you expect us to get rid of the bond?" Radagast replied, his attention now focused on his robes as he dug through his pockets and sleeves. "Now where did I put those feathers…?"

"I think you need to explain this a bit more," Bilbo said as he watched the wizard and scowling Dwarf carefully.

"Think of the link between you two as a dying limb," Elrond said, speaking up for the first time. His gray eyes were so clear and intense that Bilbo swore they could pass as silver. "If left untreated, it will spread and consume your whole leg. But if you cut off the infected foot, then you can save the rest of your leg. We will destroy a piece of your soul that Sauron has consumed in order to save the rest of you."

"But…he said in order for him to die, I must die as well," he said, biting his lower lip as he recalled his conversation with the Dark Lord. "Why would he say that if it wasn't true?"

"You really shouldn't take the word of someone like Sauron seriously," Radagast said, pausing in his rummaging to give the Hobbit an unimpressed look. "Your death would weaken him greatly, yes, but he would still exist as a shadow of himself. Only by destroying the ring can we be completely free of him."

Bilbo still didn't feel convinced. "Then why did he go through all the trouble of keeping me alive?"

"He didn't want to lose the advantage he has now with you alive," Gandalf explained calmly. "Thanks to you, he is able to gather his strength faster than he would if he was still a shade."

"How will this work?" Thorin asked, his eyes still glued on Radagast.

"We are going to perform a ritual that will, I suppose you could say, cut out the piece of Bilbo's soul that Sauron has consumed," Elrond explained slowly, furrowing his brows as he visibly tried to find the correct words to use.

Bilbo stared at the three with his brows raised high. "How the hell do you have the power to do that?"

Gandalf chuckled and gave him a fond look. "We don't. The power will come from the Valar. We will simply be the tools that they use."

"That's why Master Radagast is here," the Elf added, nodding to the eccentric wizard. "He is the… messenger, you could say, between us and the Valar."

"Oh, is that what I am now?" the wizard in questioned said, sotto. "Good to know you all think of me as a mail service."

Elrond sighed and looked close to rolling his eyes if such a thing was allowed for Elven lords. "I can hear you."

Radagast just looked at him. "And?"

"We should probably begin soon," Gandalf said, eyeing the two like he didn't know if he wanted to encourage the discussion or avoid it. "The more time we waste, the more of Bilbo's soul Sauron consumes."

"Way to make me feel like a meal, Gandalf," Bilbo muttered as he stood up. "Alright. Let's get this over with then. What must I do?"

"Let me drug you so you fall unconscious," Radagast answered before the other two could speak up. "It will be easier to do without you awake and interrupting us with your screams."

Thorin shot to his feet and Bilbo reached out to grab his arm on instinct before the king could attack the wizard. "Calm down, Thorin. We don't want to strangle the only person who can save me from becoming the full course meal for a Dark Lord."

Thorin bristled but did as the Hobbit asked and returned to his side. Radagast just looked at them both, obviously unimpressed.

"What part of this whole thing translated as painless for you?" wondered the wizard, cocking his head to the side. "We are about to break off a piece of his spirit. That is going to change him forevermore."

"And that is something I am willing to endure," added Bilbo, wrapping his hand more firmly around Thorin's arm. "Thorin, I would rather cut a piece of my soul off than be bound to that monster for the rest of my days."

Thorin scowled but still nodded slowly. "I know that it is the only way, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"None of us do," said Elrond, watching them both with a look that he could not read. "But it must be done. Now, shall we begin, Master Baggins?"

Bilbo took in a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. Let's get this over with."


The three led him outside to a remote area from the mountain where only rock and ash lingered. There Radagast began to sketch out a large circle with polished white stones that gleamed under the sunlight. Bilbo didn't need to touch them to know that they were soaked in magic; he could feel the spark from where he stood. When the wizard was done, he pointed to the center of the circle and ordered Bilbo to lay down in it.

"Drink this and you'll fall asleep soon enough," Radagast ordered, handing him a crystal vial filled with a strange purple liquid. The Hobbit eyed it dubiously—which he felt was only sensible considering the wizard giving it to him had a birds nest on his hat—but still took it.

"Do I need to do anything else?" he asked, looking to the wizard.

Radagast shook his head. "No. Simply lay down in the center of the circle and fall asleep. We'll take care of everything else."

Bilbo nodded and glanced to Thorin, who was the only Dwarf allowed to accompany him outside, and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, Thorin. Just don't interrupt them no matter what happens."

The king tilted his head forward slightly in acknowledgment. "I will do my best, ghivashel."

He smiled slightly at the gruff promise and moved to the center of the circle. He uncapped the vial in hand and quickly gulped down the noxious liquid before he could think about it. Then he laid down and waited for sleep to come to him. He didn't have to wait long.

The first shock of pain woke him and he was overwhelmed by a shriek so high pitched that his ears rung. Something cold shot up his spine and then another wave of pain hit him. This time he knew the shrieking was from him.

"—you cannot enter the circle—"

"—he's in pain, he needs me—!"

"—this is the only way—"

Another wave of pain slid through him until he thought he was going to be ripped apart by it. Distantly he could hear chanting in a strange language, and the furious words of a voice that sounded as old as the land itself. Then, with once more sharp rise of pain, he felt something in him snap, heard the echo of a furious roar, and then finally fell back into the darkness where nothing hurt, and everything was blessedly silent.


The next time he awoke, he found himself wrapped in furs and blankets and a king.

"T-Thorin?" he mumbled into a familiar fur coat. He shifted and opened his eyes at half-mast and found himself looking up into concerned blue eyes.

"Bilbo? How do you feel?" the Dwarf asked, pushing back the Hobbit's braids from his face.

He closed his eyes again and leaned against the hard chest of the Dwarf he was wrapped around. "Tired. Sore. A bit empty, but… better. I feel better. Less burdened, less sad and… and hopeless. I feel like I did at the beginning of the journey."

"That sounds right. Gandalf said that if Sauron has been leeching off of you all this time, then his darker energies must have been influencing you to some degree," the king explained, settling his hand on the back of Bilbo's neck. "I think that's why you've been so sad and guilty lately."

He snorted and cuddled in closer. "No, that's just my default state."

The chest beneath his cheek rumbled. "Ahh, ghivashel, you never fail to make me laugh. I thought I would only know that joy with my sister's sons. I'm glad that I was wrong."

"Liar. You take one look at Dwalin when he sees a cookie and break into giggles," he reminded, wrinkling his nose as some fur began to tickle it.

"Of course I do. Everyone laughs at Dwalin when he does that," defended Thorin, rubbing at the muscle under his hand. "Ah, Bilbo, I've spoken with the others and I think we've found a way to help that… friend of yours, Bard."

Bilbo opened his eyes and looked up at the Dwarf. "Really? How?"

"We will make him a false foot to use," the king said. "He won't be able to feel it and it won't work as well as his real one did, but at least this way he will be able to walk again."

"What about Tauriel and Beorn?"

Thorin's eyes softened in honest regret. "I cannot return her sight or his arm, but I can promise them that if they ever need anything from me, then I will move the world to give it to them."

Bilbo nodded slowly, accepting the answer. "I understand. Thank you, Thorin. I know how much your word means to you."

The Dwarf shrugged. "I owe them each a debt that I can never repay for saving you. Even if one of them is a Mirkwood Elf."

"Mmm. Tauriel isn't as bad as you think. I think you would even like her if you got to know her," he mumbled, closing his eyes again as sleep tugged at him. "Even Beorn and Bard if you gave them a chance…"

"If you like them, then there must be something to them that I missed," agreed the king, moving his hand lower to rub the Hobbit's shoulders. "But enough talk. Go back to sleep. You are safe now, ghivashel."

Bilbo smiled and did exactly that.


The next time he awoke, he found a stranger sitting on the ground beside his makeshift bed.

"Bilbo Baggins," the Dwarf-maiden greeted coolly. Dressed in dirty trousers, boots, and a baggy tunic, she should not have looked like royalty, but somehow through her posture and stare she was pulling it off.

He nodded back slowly in recognition. "Princess Dís. I was wondering when you would show up."

"I had to deal with my offspring first. They had some… interesting tales to tell me," the princess explained, not once moving her blue eyes away from him. "Most of it was centered around you."

"Oh? I hope some of it was good," he replied, sinking back into his bed and forcing his muscles to relax. "But from your expression, I think it was mostly bad."

Dís smiled pleasantly but her eyes remained hard as the sapphires they resembled. "Perhaps. But my boys tend to exaggerate so I need to set the record straight with you. Tell me if this is correct: you followed my sons and brother across the world because you were obsessed with saving them. You manipulated events and people in order to change things to your liking. Finally you took off without warning to destroy the One Ring and kill yourself. Is this all correct, Master Baggins?"

Bilbo thought over her words for a moment before nodding. "Yup, that sounds correct. But they left out the part where I broke your brother's heart with a shiny stone. Oh, and later I told him I would marry him before running off to my death like a coward."

For the first time, Dís lost her look of cool composure. "Excuse me?"

"What? Did you not come here to interrogate me to see if I'm good enough for Thorin?" he asked, widening his eyes innocently. "Look, I don't care for running around in circles. I'm too old for that. So let's simply get to the point of this visit so we can both move on with our lives."

"Oh it's going to be fun having you in the meetings," Dís muttered, crossing her arms under her rather ample bosom. He did not know if that was common among all Dwarf-maidens, but if it was then he wondered how the hell they had managed to pass as males for so long. Even with a beard, that wasn't something you missed.

"Since you asked, I will be blunt with you," the princess stated, her blue eyes narrowing until they resembled more of a cat's stare than a Dwarf's. "I am not a kind Dwarf, Master Baggins. I do not tolerate weakness or mercy and I am devoid of compassion. That is what my brother is for. He is the one our family turns to for support and kindness. I am the one they go to when they need someone killed or thrown in jail. That is why I can promise you that I will have no problem sticking a knife in your gut if you ever hurt my family in any manner."

Bilbo nodded, not very fazed by the threat. After everything he had learned prior to meeting Dís, he had been expecting it. "I understand. They are your family; it is only natural that you be protective of them. If I do ever hurt them in some way, then I would not hold it against you if you retaliated."

"Good," the Dwarf replied, nodding gracefully like a queen, "now I wish to thank you for saving my sons and brother from their deaths. Without your aid, I would have lost them all. So thank you, Master Baggins, for saving my boys."

He blinked, taken back by the sudden switch in words. "Oh, of course. I didn't want them to die either, you know. Once was enough for me."

"Yes, I know that now," Dís acknowledged, her face softening as she smiled at him for the first time.

Oh, she has dimples like Fíli. How cute.

"You can call me by my first name," he said without much thinking. "Since we are going to end up as family soon enough."

Dís's smile grew wider. "As long as you return the favor. Now as your future sister, allow me to welcome you to the family, Bilbo. It will be nice to have another brother around to bully again."


"Oh good, you didn't kill him. Thorin will be pleased," commented Dáin as he sashayed into the room some time later.

Dís raised one black brow in acknowledgment but didn't look away from the hand of cards she held. "Dáin. Still following at Thorin's heels I see."

"Well, he didn't leave me much of a choice when he decided to challenge Mordor by himself," the Dwarf commented, stooping down to crouch next to the female.

"So you went to support him," Dís concluded, throwing a card down into the pile between her and Bilbo. "Frerin would not have approved of you putting yourself right in the thick of things."

Dáin's smirk melted into a frown. "Yes, well, Frerin isn't exactly here to scold me now is he?"

"No. Which is why it falls to me to do it for him. Don't do something so foolish again," the princess warned, giving him a side-eyed look that chilled even Bilbo.

Dáin sneered back, obviously not threatened. "Oh, fuck off, Dís. You're not my mother or my wife. You have no authority to tell me what to do."

Dís sneered right back at him. "I am your elder cousin; that is reason enough! Talk back to me again and I'll shave your beard off."

"Would you really?" Bilbo wondered, throwing his own card down into the pile.

"Of course. Just ask Dwalin. You think he intentionally grew his hair out like that?" said Thorin as he entered the room. He marched over to the three and looked down at them with a fond and annoyed expression.

"It's nice to see you all getting along," he commented, his lips twitching at a corner as if he wanted to smile. "But I'm afraid I must interrupt your bonding experience. Bilbo and I have to speak to our… guest."

"Guest?" Bilbo repeated before his eyes were drawn to a vaguely familiar stranger that had followed Thorin into the chambers. It was a Woman who was as lovely as any Elf maiden. With her blonde curls and rosebud lips, she resembled one of the fine porcelain dolls that he had seen young girls collect. But for all her beauty, she also seemed very… fragile to him. Like she was holding herself together by a single thread, and she didn't know how much longer she had before it broke.

Dís and Dáin looked at the Woman and both raised their eyebrows at the same time. Bilbo bit his lower lip to keep from smiling. He had a feeling the reason the two didn't get along so well was because they were a bit too much like each other.

"We'll continue our game at another time," granted Dís, collecting her cards and rising to her feet gracefully. "Come, Dáin. I think it's time that you and I have our own private… discussion."

Dáin grinned at her with his teeth bared. "Of course, cousin. I would like nothing more."

Thorin sighed and rubbed his forehead as the two left; clearly wondering what he had done in a past life to have ended up with the two as relatives. Bilbo decided to be kind and refrained from mentioning the Arkenstone to him.

It was only once the two Dwarves were gone that the unknown Woman—dressed in a green Elven gown, he noticed—stepped forward and gave a stiff bow.

"Master Baggins," the Woman greeted, her voice soft and sweet like honey. "I am Gilraen of Dúnedain, daughter of Ivorwen and wife of Arathorn II. I have come here to make a request on behalf of my son, Estel."

Gilraen? he thought before he realized who exactly was before him. Oh. This is Aragorn's mother.

"G-Greetings, my lady," he stuttered back, sitting up a bit straighter. "H-How can we help you?"

"Master Baggins, I have come here to make a bold request of you," said Gilraen, keeping her head bowed slightly and her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

"Of course. What is it?" he asked without hesitation. While he had never known the Woman himself, Aragorn and Elrond had both spoken fondly of her. He did not think either would do such a thing without good cause.

Gilraen's eyes remained hypnotized by the ground. "I would like you to foster my son, Estel."

Bilbo stared at the Woman, not quite sure he had heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

"My son, Estel, has been fostered by Lord Elrond since his father died," the Woman explained quietly. "He has another ten years before he reaches Manhood. I would like him to spend the remaining ten years here, under your care."

Bilbo kept staring. He knew he was being rude, but he really couldn't help it. Out of all the possible requests she could have made, that was not even in the top ten.

"Why do you ask this of us?" Thorin questioned, gazing at the Woman with his brows furrowed. "Why now?"

Gilraen sighed, and for the first time finally looked up to meet their gazes head on. "For the past eight years I have lived under Lord Elrond's care and protection," she explained simply. 'Thanks to him, Estel has been able to grow up knowing only peace and love. He knows nothing of his heritage or what the outside world is really like."

"Heritage?" repeated Thorin, arching a brow.

Gilraen nodded, her gray eyes darkening into storm clouds. "My son is the Heir of Isildur. When he comes of age, he will inherit the title of Chieftain of the Dúnedain just as his father did before him. And, if Master Baggins is to be believed, he will also become King of Arnor, the First High King of the Reunited Kingdom. Knowing all of that, I have decided that the best way for my son to become the king he is meant to be is if you fostered him here until he reaches adulthood."

"My lady, Estel grew into a fine king while under Lord Elrond's care. If you truly want him to be the king you dream of, then you must simply leave him in Rivendell," the Hobbit pointed out.

"No. That is no longer possible," the Woman said, her jaw hardening and showing him exactly where Aragorn had gotten his iron spine from. "You have changed things, Master Baggins, and not all things will follow as they once did. You raised the Ring-bearer; the greatest hero this world may ever know. You are also the only person who knows of the Man my son could become. Knowing all of this, how can I not take advantage of the opportunity you represent?"

Thorin gave their guest a look of admiration. "You are a very cunning Woman, my lady."

"No, I'm really not," the blonde disagreed, giving the king a half-smile. "I am simply a scared mother who must ensure that her husband's line does not end with her son. If that means throwing my dignity and pride out in order to beg for help, then so be it. I will do everything it takes to make sure Estel grows up into the king his father wanted him to be."

Hearing that, Bilbo felt his doubts and resolve crumble into dust. He couldn't refuse the Woman before him when she spoke with such honesty. Even if he didn't agree completely, he knew that he was going to give in the moment he looked into those well-known gray eyes. But the king at his side was a different matter.

"May we meet the boy?" asked Thorin, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gilraen blinked a few times but nodded. "Of course. I left him with Lord Elrond. He's rather shy around strangers, but I will bring him here if you wish to meet him."

Thorin glanced to Bilbo before nodding. "I would like that."

"Then I will be right back with him," the noblewoman replied, giving them another curtsy before leaving the room. Once she was gone, Thorin turned to Bilbo and sat down next to him.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked, reaching out to twirl one of Bilbo's braids around his finger.

"I think we need to agree or she may start crying on us," he replied, making the Dwarf snort. "Honestly though, I think we could do it. I raised my nephew by myself after his parents passed; I think I can do it again."

"I helped raise my sister's sons. It was a difficult process, but I do not regret it," the king admitted, frowning. "But raising the child of a Man is different from raising a Dwarf or a Hobbit. Even more if this child is meant to grow into someone of such great importance."

Bilbo poked his fiancé in the shoulder. "And Fíli, your heir, wasn't important?"

"No, he was a test of patience from Mahâl," the king muttered as Gilraen returned with a small child who clung to her skirts. He had wild dark curls that fell into his chubby face and made his porcelain skin even whiter in comparison.

As soon as Thorin saw the child with wide gray eyes, his face softened into a look he usually only ever reserved for his nephews. Seeing that look, Bilbo knew without a doubt what the Dwarf was going to say to Gilraen's request.

"Hello, Estel," greeted the king in a soft rumble. "Welcome to Erebor."