Bilbo made his way over to Thorin's fallen body; the king under the mountain was barely breathing as blood poured out from his chest. Even an idiot could tell he wasn't going to make it. Bilbo crouched besides him, barely stopping himself from falling on the downed king in his hurry.
"No, no! Thorin!" his eyes streamed with tears as he covered the wound, trying to stem the blood flow. "No! you can't leave! You just got your mountain back! Come on, wake up!" he shouted, trying to get the king to react.
It worked, something in the fallen, bleeding out and drastically paling king heard him. "Bilbo… go home, back to where you belong… Go back to the shire and your comforts and your armchair. Leave this Dwarf to die here." He voice was barely about a whisper, but Bilbo heard it all the same.
"NO! I'm staying right here! And you're staying with me!" Bilbo exclaimed. He shut his eyes, pulling on the magic he could feel just beneath the skin. He pulled desperately, trying to get as much as he could. "Please, Yavanna, I know you can heal him. Take my life in return if you must, just please, don't let him die. Him or his line." He knew the goddess was listening, even if she never responded.
He knew she was there with him.
His hands turned green, first little lines appeared on his fingertips, but like all plants, it grew. Down the back of his hands, wrapping around his thumb them up his fingers like a fast Summer's breeze. It felt like someone had set a fire under his skin, burning him from within. It wasn't that far from the truth. He placed his glowing hands over Thorin's chest, covering as much of the wound as he could with his little Hobbit fingers.
"Y-you can't leave now, not after everything you've achieved. You still have so much more to live for. Please." He mumbled, tears streaming down his face to land on Thorin's chest in little sparkles of light.
Thorin opened his mouth to try and speak, say something to the distressed Hobbit, but the words didn't come. He wanted to comfort him, then pass away as he should. Like he let his nephews pass away. Oh god, Fili and Kili, he shouldn't have dragged them up here, they would only be in danger here, why did he do that? He brought them to their deaths. he should go on to join them.
But he wanted to live.
He shouldn't, not when he let his nephews die. He was a disgrace of an uncle. A disgrace of a King.
"F-Fi-Fili a-and K-Kili a-a-are…" Thorin stuttered out, his voice coming in harder with the lack of blood. He could feel himself fading, there was nothing the Hobbit could do. He would pass along with his Nephews. That was his resolve.
It didn't stop the Hobbit though.
Bilbo shook his head, voice filled with a worried determination, "Don't worry about them, I'll bring them back too. I've already made a connection to their soul, like I have for you. I will bring back the line of Durin, I promise."
The green light travelled up his arms, spinning over Bilbo's chest and stomach before it travelled over his back. He flinched as it met his heart, but Bilbo did not pull away. He closed his eyes, letting his magic spread through himself evenly without any hesitation. He then directed the magic swelling inside him into the dwarf before him.
Thorin's vision swan when Bilbo placed his glowing arms directly on top of his wound, it stung. But only for a second. Warmth filled him, tempting him to sleep. The calm rushed through his body, relaxing his body more than it had in the last 80 years. It was so peaceful. He could hear the rush of the water beneath them, and the cool touch of ice on his back, and the slinging whisps of winter's breath.
It was so nice. He wished he could just sleep.
But he can't.
Not when Bilbo let out such a pained whimper, clutching at Thorin's wound harder. The green light that covered the hobbit turning darker and darker until all that was left was a burnt little hobbit.
Thorin gasped suddenly, feeling whole. It burned, for a scant few seconds, but the burn left faster than lightning. He jumped up startled, a gasp being the only thing on his ears. Quickly followed by a cough.
Hands travelled to his wound, covering it, and finding unmarred skin. He poked, prodded, pulled, but it was just as healthy as it had been a day ago. He was whole. A relieved laugher filled him lungs as he spun around to face his healer, a smile on his face and ready to celebrate this amazing recovery.
Just in time to see Bilbo's body collapse, lifeless and cold.
They buried the Hobbit in proper Darrow form, underneath the earth where they were born. They didn't know the Hobbit customs, so Thorin had insisted for a Dwarven King's Funeral for the little hobbit who saved him, and his nephews. Fili and Kili stood beside him as Bilbo was lowered into the hole they had dug on top of the hill, tears streaming down their faces as they stood tall in front of the crowd.
They had to be strong.
No matter how much it hurt them inside.
Immediately behind them, stood the company, Gandalf and Thaundril.
Behind them, was the dwarven nation, or at least all those who had survived the War, the men, and the elves. For some reason, the elves refused to leave until after the Hobbit's funeral.
The crowd stood in silence as each member of the company stood and spoke a few words, Ori walking away after, sobbing. Dori and Nori wrapped him in their arms as he took the stand and spoke his own words to the crowd. Speaking of how he had given his life to bring back not only his, but the lives of his nephews.
When he stepped down, the crowd bowed in silence. Bilbo was covered in the dirt he had come from. Underhill and Overhill. That was where their path had led. And that was where he would return. Underhill.
When Bilbo was covered completely, Thorin approached, crouched down, and placed a single large white flower over the grave. If Bilbo had been an elf, it would be a leaf, for a dwarf, gems, Men would be covered in their belongings. But for Hobbits? It was flowers. So as tradition states, he laid a Crown White flower on his grave. A rare and beautiful flower. Normally the bringer for good luck, but now, a symbol to give Bilbo peace.
When he stepped back, the company stepped forward, each laying their own flowers on the grave. When they were done, one by one, each and every person present stepped forward and placed a single flower on the little Hobbit's grave.
Thorin stood in silence long after the last person had placed the last flower, staring at the spot where he had placed the Crown White.
Bilbo shouldn't have died for him.
The only person who placed something different on the grave was the Elven king. After placing a golden flower down near his own flower, the king took out a small watering can and watered the ground around the grave before standing up and heading towards him.
Thorin said nothing. He had nothing to say to the elven king. But that did not stop the elven king from speaking to him.
"Thorin Oakenshield. Take this and water the grave every day without fail for the next year." He said, handing the small watering can to him.
Thorin narrowed his eyes, "And why would I do that?" he took the watering can curiously. It was beautifully crafted, dwarven made, "This is dwarven made."
The Elven king tilted his head, "So it is." they lapsed into a silence, the Elven king stared curiously towards the grave were their precious hobbit lay, "It is just a rumour, a myth, even to the elves. About Hobbits."
The King Under the Mountain looked up at him before turning back to the Grave, "A myth?"
The elven king recited, "None shall harm a Hobbit, for a curse would befall the land, but a life freely given, may come once more to stand. As old trees wither and new growth grows, so does a Hobbit buried in the earth and watered by their True. May a Hobbit's Magic flow and May Yavanna be merciful." He turned away, "I have never known what it meant, but perhaps, you may be able to figure it out."
And with that the Elven king left, his army of soldiers following. Thorin looked upon him as he left, his forehead marred in confusion. What did that mean? He thought, rolling over the Elven kings' words in his head.
Hours later, Thorin placed the watering can besides his bedside table and fell fast asleep.
The next night, after a full day's work of reconstruction and planning, Thorin was all but ready to fall straight asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. But there was something bugging him, something pulling to him. he had to do something still, and he just knew that it couldn't wait until tomorrow.
The Dwarven King pushed himself up from the comfortable pillows and cosy blankets, dressed in only his nightgown. He lit a candle and gazed around the room, trying to spot whatever it was that caused his unrest.
Slowly, his eyes focused on the small, silver watering can the Elven King had gifted to him. what had he said? Take this and water the grave every day without fail for the next year.
Oh right, Thorin thought, grabbing the watering can and holding it tentatively in his hands. It was such a small thing. He stood up and walked out of his rooms, stopping at the kitchens to fill up the can before making his way out of the Kingdom and up the hill that Bilbo had been buried at.
He sat down in front of the grave, the flowers still covering the ground around it. the view was amazing as he stared down the valley, the night sky lighting his way.
"You would have loved this." He said, eyes turning back towards the grave, "You always liked the views."
Thorin fingered the watering can in his hands, "I'm not even sure why I'm doing this. It's just a myth an elf said…" he sighed, "you always liked myths too."
The night fell into silence when there was not reply. Thorin placed the can down next to him, staring up to the night sky. Not a cloud in sight and all the stars twinkling in the contrasting darkness surrounding them. it was beautiful.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, drawing comfort from the night sky watching over him. it made him feel as if he wasn't so lonely anymore. The sky was always there and would always be there when he was travelling. It was a constant in his life of upheaval. It was something that could be relied on, even if it was just for a beautiful sight.
But eventually, all good things must come to an end, and he did need to get some rest some time tonight. So, with a sigh, Thorin stood up, lifted the full watering can over the grave and poured it out.
He turned around and left soon after.
Mere moments after he left, a small green glow began to fill the hill, faint and almost invisible, but most assuredly there. It started in the centre of the grave, slowly growing upwards to find the desperately required sunlight and fresh air, even if that meant burrowing through the stone surrounding the body to get it. The tiny seedling seemed to grow straight out of the stone casket and through the earth before it finally reached the fresh air. It stopped growing, worn out from the exertion of energy. A single green stalk grew, hidden under the petals of a Large White Crown flower.
It took Thorin two weeks to notice the seedling. Partly because he only watered the plant at night in very bad lighting, and partly because the seedling had been hidden amongst the other growth and dead flowers around the grave. But once he had noticed it, it was very hard to forget.
Especially immediately after he watered it. A green magic-like glow surrounded the sapling. The branches would twist and move into the water, but then try and reach for something higher, almost appearing to be reaching for him. it was so cute and Thorin found himself reminded of Bilbo. During his nightly trips, he makes sure to pay extra attention to the little sapling that grew above the body of his love.
Now, Thorin knew he wasn't much of a gardener, but he was damn sure plants don't grow that fast. Especially not in winter. Thorin stared up at the little sapling, or what had been a sapling about three months ago. Spring was finally here, and the cold and hungry nights were now just a passing memory. Or at least until next winter. But that was a year away.
The tree was maybe three heads taller than himself, standing mightily proud on the top of the hill overlooking the valley without a care in the world. it almost seemed oblivious to the fact that there were no other trees around it for at least a mile. That blasted dragon did something nasty to the land, and it was rather difficult to grow crops right now.
Of course, he had gotten the farmers to try and find the best spots to plant their fields so that they would have something to eat come winter, but it appeared as if there was nowhere on the mountain that could be farmed without the certainty of some very, very bad crops. It was as if the land was cursed.
Well, except for the area around the hobbit's grave, but that didn't help anyone, it was too small. Thorin was trying to feed a steadily increasing number of people with little to no food coming in. the sooner they could figure out this bloody curse and break it, the better. Even if it means talking to the elves of all being to, God forbid, help them. Thorin would do it for his people.
Spring ended and the crops they brought in were dismal at best. He had to hope for a better summer and autumn crop if his kingdom was actually going to survive the next winter. Everyone knew the problems and weren't against an entire kingdom rationing so that their food will last. It hadn't been the first time he had to ask his people to do this. Honestly, he knew a lot more people would be against it if it wasn't for the fact that he rationed alongside them, ate with them, and made sure everyone ate before him.
This probably wouldn't be the last time his kingdom almost starved. But he would make sure they wouldn't, no matter what he had to do.
Besides the food shortage, most of the Dwarves of the mountain have been working towards refurbishing the living areas in the East wing of the mountain, the area least destroyed by the dragon. Most of the mines were at least partially destroyed, so Thorin ordered them to be ignored for now so they can prioritize cleaning out places where people can sleep without danger of getting dragon sickness.
Enough furnaces were left burning to heat the mountain through the cold nights, he didn't need to deal with sickness on top of everything else if he can help it. But most furnaces were left cold and hardened. Those were the ones they couldn't trick Smaug into setting alight and would need to be torn down to clean them and rebuilt to be useable again. it was a long process and will be held back until they have places for everyone to sleep. They already had too many Dwarves in the mountain for the number of rooms they've cleared.
Most people were sharing with twenty or sometimes thirty other people, sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags or curled up under layers of blankets. All but the strongest of wooden beds had rotted away and the linens were bug riddled and eaten. All of it had to be thrown out and burnt to avoid infections. There were many people who couldn't help with the Kingdom Clean-up who were just making beds, sheets, and mattresses.
He and the company had all been camping out in one of the larger rooms since the royal suites were in the west north wing and were a part of the worst damaged parts in the mountain. No matter how many times his advisers persisted he clean up the fancy suites for the Lords and Ladies of the kingdom, he refused so that the people will have somewhere warm to sleep at night.
He still kept up his nightly routine of going up to their Hobbit's grave and watering the tree that was now much larger them himself. He was certain it wasn't a normal tree, especially after he got that Elf Kili had been shooting discreet glances to over the last couple of months to look at it. she had claimed that Magic spread throughout the entire tree and was very strong and powerful, however it was also very fragile and that he must keep up whatever it was that he was doing less it kill the tree. Thorin didn't have a clue what the tree was or why it was there, other than the fact that Bilbo lay at rest underneath it.
He wasn't sure if all Hobbit's turned into trees after death, but Thorin was damn sure that the tree was Bilbo.
If that wasn't a good enough reason to keep watering it, he didn't know one.
He had sent a letter to the Hobbits back in the shire, but hasn't gotten word back yet.
"Hey Uncle…?" Fili started, sparing a glance towards his younger brother, "Kili wants to ask you something, and I'm here for moral support."
Thorin looked up from the documents he had been reading with a careful eye. Some of the Dwarven Lords were trying to make a claim onto the jewels of the mountain. Not that Thorin would let them, that was divided up amongst the company, as per the stipulations in their contract. But even then, no one was to enter the treasury or touch any of the gold in this mountain until someone could break the curse.
"Well? Out with it." he said with a soft voice, a small grin encouraging his nephew to speak. He had a feeling what this was about.
"Um… well, you see… ImighthavefoundmyOnebutshe'sanelfandiwantedyourpermissiontoofficallycourther!" Kili spluttered out in one mouthful.
Thorin snorted, "How about you try repeating that slowing so that it is understandable."
Kili took a calming breath, in which Fili took the chance to pat him comfortingly on the back. it helped Kili and he started to speak, "I, um, I found my One. But she's an Elf, and I know how you feel about elves, so I was wondering, well, I was wondering if you could give me, you're blessing so that I may court her?"
Thorin stood up from his seat and placed a comforting hand on top of Kili's head, "Your she-elf wouldn't happen to be the one that's been pulling her own weight in restoring this mountain in exchange to freeload?"
Kili looked mildly confused, "Umm, yes?"
Thorin pulled Kili into a hug, "I would never hold you back from your One, even if they were an elf." The king under the mountain comforted his nephew as he broke down in his arms.
"Thanks Uncle." he sniffled.
"Is that why you water Bilbo's grave?" Fili asked after a few moments silence.
Thorin released Kili, "What do you mean?"
"Bilbo was your One, wasn't he?" the heir asked.
He sighed, leave it to Fili to ask the important questions, "Yes, he was. it was why I was so against him coming on the quest, I couldn't bear to see him hurt because of me. and it was with good reason I worried, look where he is now." he said sadly, moving his head to the general direction of the entrance of the mountain and the spot where Bilbo had been buried.
Fili stepped towards him and slowing brought him into a hug. Kili joined in too and the three royals stood there for a few moments, morning the Hobbit who sacrificed his life to save them. even now, they didn't understand what it was he did, but he brought two of them back from the dead, and the last back from the brink. If it wasn't Bilbo, Thorin would've suspected foul play. But since it was Bilbo, he could only wonder if this was another one of those Hobbit things no one new about except Hobbits.
It wouldn't surprise him if it was.
"Come on, we have a Mountain to fix." Thorin said, pulling himself out of his nephew's arms and started towards the door.
The green ring around Bilbo's tree had grown. That's what they were calling the very fertile land around the grave now. it was an apt description considering there was a massive difference between the green ring and the not green ring. There was literally a large circle of green grass around the Hobbits tree. There was a very definitive line between the dead, cursed looking sad grey grass and the vibrant healthy non-cursed bright green grass in the green ring.
Thorin suspected Magic was afoot.
Good magic, Hobbit magic most likely, but magic none the less.
The only exception to this rule was the tiny patch of very much dead grass near the base of the Tree stump. Thorin was worried about it, as if the gap in the vibrant green grass was telling him that he had done something wrong. Thorin had tried watering it, and it seemed to shrink a bit, but it wouldn't disappear completely.
He had even asked Tauriel to look at it, at which she said there was a very bad evil thing cursing that specific spot of land and should most definite be destroyed, but she couldn't figure out what was causing the curse or how to stop it other than destroy what was causing it. which came back to being unable to find what was causing it. Thorin ended up deciding to keep watering that spot of dead grass in the hopes that Bilbo's Magic Tree – the dwarves of the mountain named it that, not him – would be able to fight back against the little evil circle.
The summer crops were finally in, and there were almost depressing as the Spring crops. The only difference was that a small section of the crops, also the closest to Bilbo's Magic Tree and just barely inside the growing green ring had done amazingly well. It was barely 10m by 20m of crops, and not nearly enough to feel a mountain of hungry dwarves for long, but it was still amazingly better then what he had been expecting after the Spring crops.
For the next set of crops, and the last bunch before Winter started to set in and made it too cold to farm anymore, they would be planted as close to Bilbo's Magic Tree as possible and inside the green ring or immediately after it so that the crops can use whatever magic is in the soil to give them something good to eat.
They still left a large area around the actual Tree untouched. Not wanting to upset whatever the tree was doing to make the lands lush.
Speaking of the tree, it was huge now. it stood over his head and gave quite a nice bit of canopy and shade. It was definitely way too big for a less-then-one-year-old tree to be; it normally took trees of similar size at least twenty or twenty-five years to get that big. Thorin could honestly say he didn't care.
Thorin still watered it with the little watering can. It was interesting to watch it light up with a bright green glow for hours into the night. The glow lit up the stump as if veins ran through the tree, and into the lush canopy like a million little fireflies. Thorin found it absolutely beautiful.
It also had the side effect of attracting many other dwarves out of the mountain during the night to gaze upon Bilbo's Magic Tree. if Nori had been keeping up with the rumour mill – of course he is, he's the King's Spymaster, it was his job to know all the rumours in the mountain – then a good fifth of the dwarves in the mountain have started a new religion around Bilbo's Magic Tree.
Thorin joined not long after he found out it was a thing.
A massive party was held on the last day of harvest in the late Autumn underneath Bilbo's Magic Tree. Tables were set up lined with food and drink, more drink than food. Dwarves sung and danced under the clear night sky, celebrating what could only be called one of the best harvests in dwarven history.
The men from Dale have even come, celebrating alongside them with the lush and vast amounts of food they had pulled from the earth not a week ago. The mountain was still rationing, but everyone was able to get a full belly, three times a day, every day. And Thorin knew the mountain had enough to sustain that same number of hungry dwarves for the entire winter and then some.
The only food they lacked now was meat, but that was becoming less of a problem with the skinny and ill looking mountain animals growing into large and fat – tasty fat – hunks to hunt with the greener pasture and healthier grass to eat. The hunters were bringing more and more in after a day work, catching more in their traps and finding more of their tracks. The animals that had been scared off by the dragon's presence had all returned, bolstered with the now available lush green grass to eat.
And all of it was due to the little hobbit buried under the stars.
"Bilbo's Magic Tree had gotten a lot more followers in his religion." Nori mentioned at some point.
Thorin cracked a smile, "Not unexpected, considering the tree had brough back the mountain and saved us all from starvation."
Nori grinned, "Well, about half the mountain is actively praying to it now. and the majority of the rest are leaving things in the shrines built around the mountain. Nothing too big, mostly flowers, and maybe a few interactive pieces of jewellery for good luck. Food hasn't been offered just yet, since it's still so scares, but in a few years' time, if the harvests continue to be this good, I suspect the best of the crops to go to the shrines."
Thorin scowled, "Such a waste. Bilbo would roll in his grave. He hated when we wasted food."
"Yeah, I know. I wonder if we can convince them out of it. Anyway, there's been another birth this week. That's the third in the last year, almost a record! it's amazing."
Thorin nodded along with his spymaster, he had been there to bless the child, as is usual for the king to do. Dwarven births were so rare, when they do occur, the entire kingdom stopped to celebrate. The fact that there had been three new dwarven babies brought into the world in the last year was just amazing, especially since in the last 70 years since Smaug took Erabor, there had been a total of five births, two of which were Fili and Kili.
The land was truly blessed.
"I bet Bilbo has something to do with it."
Nori snorted, "What else could it be? His tree is bringing this mountain back from the brink of extinction." He sighed, "I just wish he didn't have to die for it too."
Thorin frowned, "I agree. He shouldn't have given his life, even if it brought prosperity to the mountain. He didn't have to die for it."
The pair shared a moment of silence for their fallen hobbit.
Durin's Day, the last day of autumn, held another dwarven party. This one much more sombre then the last. This one was more in remembrance in what they got back on this day just a year ago. They got Erebor back. they got their mountain back.
They got their home back.
They couldn't have done it without their hobbit, but now Bilbo wouldn't be there to see what has come from it. none was more downcast then the Dwarven king himself.
In just a week, the anniversary of the battle of five armies, and Bilbo's death, would be held. The entire kingdom would go into mourning, but for now, they partied to quite old songs and poems dedicated to their traditions, pasts, and history. They refused to forget the sacrifices made by anyone in the action of taking back their mountain.
They would rebuild. They would grow. But they would never forget those who had fallen. Their legends would be passed on through history by word of mouth and written down in their ancient language to be read by the generations after them. the lone hobbit who travelled halfway across the world to save a mountain that wasn't his would never be forgotten. Nor would his actions after death, the sole reason the Kingdom didn't suffer another sickness and hunger riddled winter. No more winters where they have to let someone's family die because they had no food to fill the starving stomachs that screamed out.
No, Bilbo will never be forgotten. Thorin thought with a smile. I will make sure of it.
Today was the day. Today was the anniversary of Bilbo and everyone else who perished in the Battle of the five army's death. For some reason, Thorin didn't feel too sad about it. This marked one entire year since the death of his One, but he didn't feel upset. It confused him.
He spent almost all of his afternoon sitting underneath the tree which looked at least 40 or 50 years of age but was only now a year old. A loose string of dwarven made rope decorated with both dwarven and some Elvin trinkets was wrapped around its trunk. He sat with his back to the trunk in a nook that seemed to fit his shape to a T. it was nice, but he would've proffered to lay in the arms of the hobbit himself, or even better, be able to wrap his arms around the hobbit.
It would never happen, he knew, but that didn't stop him from wishing the Bilbo was still here among the living. Thorin sighed, now he was sad.
He watched as the sun set, before standing up and grabbing the full watering can from where it had been resting on a nearby flat root. He looked at it reflectively as if it held the answers to all of his questions. It didn't, he knew.
"It has been an entire year, My Hobbit." He sighed, "You would've loved what has become of my kingdom. If you were still here, I would be here asking if you would allow me to court you, but you are not, so I cannot ask that. I can only stand here and water your remains as you bless this cursed earth with your Hobbit magic."
A few other people were here now, some here to watch the pretty lights, others here for their new religion. Some, mostly the company, were here to mourn the fallen Hobbit.
Thorin watered the tree without much more ceremony. But he grew worried after a few minutes when the tree didn't burst into a million little lights. His worry grew as ten minutes passed; it had never taken this long for a reaction to occur.
Something was wrong.
"Uncle, what's wrong with Bilbo's Magic Tree?" that was Kili, his thought process on the same wavelength as his.
"I don't-" he was cut off by a loud sounding groan. Thorin's eyes were quickly drawn back to the tree in front of him.
And he quickly took a few steps back as the roots seemed to come alive under his feet. "Back! everyone back!" he shouted as everyone got out of the way of the roots.
The tree twisted and groaned in protest as it moved, the trunk contorted, shaking some of the leaves in the canopy off, showering the bewildered and maybe scared dwarves with the golden autumn coloured leaves. The trunk twisted, raising itself up, creating a hollow spot right underneath the trunk, like a little hidey-hole for a little person.
Slowly, the tree stopped moving, having raised itself a whole meter higher than it previously had been. The trunk twisted all the way up to the canopy, with the leaves following the twisted and contorted pattern. The roots settled into the earth, digging deeper into the ground further out, but almost completely raised out of the earth closer to the tree.
Then it was all over.
The dwarves of the mountain still remained far back from the tree; afraid it might do something else. There had been way too many deaths as a result of magic, they would tread carefully when it came to any magic, even if the source was a Hobbit.
That was until Thorin hear a groan come from the roots of the tree, right where Bilbo had been buried. It was a familiar groan; one most would compare to waking up in the morning when one does not wish to be woken up. But to Thorin, there was only one person in the world who made a groan like that.
Carefully, Thorin approached the tree, Kili not far behind him. He kept a watchful eye on the roots of the tree in case they decide to move once more and attack him or someone else. One must always be cautious with Magic.
And then he saw him.
Sure, he was covered in dirt and as naked as the day he was born, his clothes that he had been buried in probably decomposed, but it was his hobbit. It was Bilbo. Thorin covered the last few steps in a rush, dropping down to his knees and placing one finger on the Hobbit's exposed neck.
A strong pulse.
He was alive. "He's alive!" the Hobbit was alive! "Somebody get a doctor!" he shouted, the uproar behind him increasing as they tried to understand what the hell was happening. "Quickly!"
Thorin watched as the Hobbit's eyes fluttered open, his glazed eyes taking a few moments to focus on Thorin's shocked face. Thorin started digging Bilbo out, throwing the loose dirt off him. He tucked his arms underneath Bilbo's shoulders and pulled. He easily came loose, and was quickly out from under the roots of the tree that grew from him. "Doctor!" he shouted again as his eyes scanned the bare body of the hobbit.
He didn't appear to be injured, or hurt, but his eyes were taking too long to focus, still trying to settle on his own face, "Bilbo, focus on me. Look at me." He mumbled, getting right up in close with his One's face so Bilbo had something to focus on. "Listen to my voice, can you hear me? Come on Bilbo." He spoke clearly.
The Hobbit's eyes finally focused on him, he watched as clarity sprouted in that cute, but dirt covered face of his, "Th-Thorin?" he asked hoarsely, barely above a whisper with a voice so parched from a year without water.
Bilbo slowly reached a shaky hand up to him, Thorin took it in his own hand and squeezed it. He didn't understand what was going on, but his One was back, and he was damned if he was going to leave him. With a sudden surprising bought of strength from the Hobbit, Bilbo pulled him closer.
Their lips met, surprising Thorin with the suddenness of it all, but when Bilbo pursued to deepen it, Thorin readily allowed. Thorin melted into the soft mouth of the Hobbit, his tongue parting those soft, albeit dirty, lips of the Hobbit, freeing him to lavish the insides of his mouth. He placed a hand behind Bilbo to support him as Bilbo melted in his arms. Someone behind him cat whistled, but Thorin didn't care.
And then Bilbo passed out.
"Bilbo!" he shouted, laying the Hobbit back down on the ground as a doctor finally showed up and started scanning him. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.
Oin hummed, "From the looks of it, just exhaustion. I would like to get a second opinion and move him into the Infirmary quickly." he shouted.
Thorin looked around him, suddenly realising the crowd watching him and the naked hobbit. That reminded him, he took off his coat, wrapping it around the Hobbit before picking him up. The hobbit would be ever so embarrassed if he found out he was carried through a dwarven city starkers.
The king led the way back to the kingdom, an exhausted Hobbit who came back from the dead in his arms.
It's been two days since Bilbo had come back to life. Two days of sitting next his bed as he waited for the Hobbit to wake up. He was certainly still alive, if Thorin's periodic random checking to see if Bilbo still had a pulse was to be trusted. The mountain was getting colder, so he was covered in many layers of the blankets he could find. Even after an entire year of making them, blankets were still scares. Luckily, the dwarves were sleeping in the east wing of the mountain, which was riddled with many vents and air ducks coming up from the furnaces further below and were kept much warmer than the infirmary. If all the furnaces were working, the Infirmary would be as warm as the east wing, but those furnaces hadn't been attacked by a dragon and were going to need rebuilding.
Thorin had practically moved in.
He had set up some of his more annoying pieces of paperwork he had to do on the bedside table of the bed that Bilbo occupied, getting through his backlog of work over the last week as he sat by his One's side. He refused to leave the Hobbit's side for anything, even those annoying pointless meetings with the Lords who keep trying to claim what doesn't belong to them or open up the cursed treasury.
The company visited almost hourly, so Thorin was very rarely alone. At this moment, Balin sat in the other chair while Oin dawdled about restocking the medical supplies with one of his new apprentices. Bilbo still hadn't woken up, which wasn't unexpected, considering the doctors had said he suffered more then a mild amount of exhaustion. His body ran ragged. Bombur made sure to deliver his meals himself and make sure Thorin eats all of it before taking the bowl away with a glance to the sleeping Hobbit.
Over the last year, the Hobbit had lost a lot of his chubby waistline that hadn't been lost from their quest. He wasn't skinny, not unhealthily so anyway. He was lean and his muscles had grown slightly, not much, but still a difference from before. His hair had also grown out and was now a little longer than shoulder length, a more respectable length for a Darrow, but he wasn't sure how respectable it was for a Hobbit. The tips of his hair were also now a bright green, and let off a very soft glow in the dark. He hadn't noticed it before because they had been so covered in dirt it all looked brown, but now that he had been washed and was nice and clean, it was obvious. The green tips blended nicely into his natural sandy blonde hair that covered to top of his head. It had a certain appeal to it, and made the Hobbit even more radiant than he had been before.
If only he would wake up.
Thorin sighed, placing down the paper he was supposed to be working on for the last half hour, but hadn't gotten past the first couple of words. He moved his chair closer to the Hobbit's bed, tucking a wild curl out of Bilbo's face and behind his ear. He gently rested his hand above the Hobbit's head, while the other reached beneath the covers to find his hand. He gave it a tight squeeze and just sat there quietly. Waiting.
Eventually, Balin left to get some sleep that night, but Thorin refused to leave Bilbo's bedside, and rested his head on the bed, his hand still in Bilbo's. Bilbo was his One and he refused to let him go again. Not after everything.
Slowly, he drifted off to sleep as Oin came around and started blowing out the lamps in the room, leaving just enough to see by, but not enough to keep anyone awake.
Bilbo scrunched his face together. There was something there, on the tip of his nose. It was so very itchy. He wanted to scratch it so bad. The blankets on top of him felt heavy and it took him way to long to twitch his hands. He knew they would be unresponsive after a year under the dirt, but Yavanna, he needed to scratch his nose! It was so damn itchy!
He could feel as his arm slowly managed to make it up the bed, finally free of the thick blankets covering him. Scratching his nose was a wonderful blessing, all his worries washed away, nothing could go wrong now that his blasted itch was gone. It was glorious. He let a sigh escape his lips, and suddenly realised how dry his throat is.
Bilbo fell into a bad coughing fit, rolling onto his side and crawling into a foetal position and waited until the pain left. His throat was so Dry. It was like he swallowed a bucket of burning wood and just left it there.
Suddenly, there was a hand on his back, lifting him up into a seated position and a cup of water at him mouth. He greedily lapped it up, trying to drink as much water as his parched lips would let him. The cup was taken away too soon, and he groaned, trying to open his eyes. The cup was back quickly, and he drank some more, although this time it was at a much steadier pace than before. He was so thirsty.
He knew this was going to happen, that is, if he came back, but he hadn't expected it to hurt this much. With his attention no longer solely on his burning throat, Bilbo could spare some attention to the rest of his limbs that hurt. It was as if someone had set him on fire. His skin burned and his nose breathed thick, dry air. It was so painful, being alive. He very much disliked the transition from tree to flesh, trees had a lot less things to deal with, while these weak, fragile bodies only hurt.
His eyes flickered open, slowly focusing on the face of the dwarf who gave him water. Oh, he was talking to him. Bilbo wondered what he was saying. His eyes focused on the beard with some fancy pieces of metal in it, definitely a dwarf then. Only they had so many decorations to go in their curls. Bilbo wondered where he was. It probably wasn't Erebor since he was banished and all that. But he didn't know of any other Dwarven settlements near where he had died. Maybe he was in the middle of nowhere and this was just a random travelling dwarf.
That idea went out the window when he finally realised which dwarf was holding him steady. It was his dwarf, Thorin. Not that Thorin knew that. Thorin was his True, the only one Bilbo could love with all his heart and still be able to give more. He wondered what Thorin was doing in the middle of nowhere.
But then again, sleep was calling him, and its call was slightly stronger then whatever Thorin was blabbering on able.
So, he fell back to sleep.
Thorin had been more joyful and smiley since Bilbo woke up. The twins rarely ever saw him as anything but grouchy, sombre or majestically reflective. But now, there was barely anything that could take away their uncle's smile. Not even his pile of paperwork he was slowly making his way through.
It was good for him.
It had been two weeks since Bilbo first woke up, and he's been waking up more and more often. For some reason, he has a weird twitch in his hands, and he can barely walk, but Bilbo waved it away as being expected and normal. Fili had caught the two of them kissing more then once, or Thorin braiding courting beads into the hobbit's hair. Once braided in, the main bead laid just above Bilbo's temple. That bead was the one that told everyone that he was courting the king and was off limits. The others were just because they could.
Kili had caught Bilbo more than once touching the beads with a soft smile while Thorin slept. Thorin still hadn't left the infirmary, but the kingdom was still running just fine.
A month past since the day Bilbo was pulled from the earth before Bilbo was well enough to leave. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, but Thorin was more then happy to be an arm to lean on. Fili and Kili got front row seats of Bilbo's absolutely shocked expression when he walked into the throne room at Thorin's side and half the kingdom bowed to him. It seems someone neglected to inform him that he had been made into a religion. Bilbo told everyone to stand up because he felt weird being taller than everyone else.
That made the kingdom laugh.
As winter passed, Bilbo was accepted into the fold of the dwarven nation easily. They didn't normally accept outsiders, but in the last year that was starting to change. They had a she-elf learning their customs as she was the One to the Prince, and they had many men coming and going from the ruins of Dale as they rebuilt too. The mountain was currently storing all the food for both nations as it has a place to store the food, but they were more then happy to give the food that was partially harvested by the men to them. Bard had become Dale's ruler and was often seen shadowing Thorin and Thaundril whenever he visited to learn the art of being a ruler.
By the end of winter, Bilbo was walking normally once again and could stand on his own two feet without wobbling or falling over. Almost immediately after the ice started to melt, Bilbo was outside, digging in the dirt and assisting the dwarves and men on the farms. He was a hobbit and hobbits made things grow. In the first week of spring, Thorin and Bilbo tied the knot and got married by both Dwarven and Hobbit customs. Thorin braided a wedding bead into Bilbo's hair, and Bilbo weaved a deep forest green ribbon and three small fire-orange flowers and the dwarven wedding beads into his. Thorin wore them for the rest of the day as is the hobbit custom before the ribbon and flowers were removed. Along with Bilbo's virginity. The dwarven beads remained.
The entire kingdom rejoiced.
A month later, Thorin got a reply back from the letter he sent to the shire a little under a year ago in an unexpected way.
"Thorin! Come quick!" Kili shouted into the room the company was still using as their communal sleeping spot. The west wing of the mountain was still damaged, and they haven't even started to fix it yet. The east wing was almost an eighth cleared and some people were starting to get their old family houses back and others are buying houses ahead of time for themselves. The communal sleeping halls were still vast and shared, but people were starting to move out. The company still shared their room, but they all had their own beds and didn't need to share with family members anymore.
Thorin was out of bed in an instant. It was very early; the sun wasn't even up yet. He pulled on his warg skin coat and his kingly crown and led the way outside without so much as a word. Kili followed behind.
"What's going on?" he asked, his strides long as he main his way to the main gate.
"There are some visitor, and I thought you should see them first." Kili said.
"Who are they?"
Kili shook his head, "I think you should see for yourself."
At that moment, they opened to door to the entrance hall, where nine covered carts were standing, the horses untied and being brushed down by a Hobbit on a step ladder. Thorin did a double take, a hobbit? And it's not Bilbo? What were they doing here?
One of the hobbits stepped forward. "You must be Thorin Oakenshield. I have heard much about you." He spoke. This hobbit had a leather vest on and a bow and quiver on his back. Like all hobbits, he wasn't wearing any shoes, but his pants and clothes spoke of well-travelled and experienced.
"That is I, and whom may I be speaking to?"
"Isemgil Took, at your service." He bowed.
Thorin returned the bow and the greeting, "What brings you here, across the world?"
Isemgil smiled, "Bilbo."
"Bilbo?"
"Bilbo."
"…Why have you come this far for Bilbo?"
"Because he can use Hobbit Magic now, and it would be a waste to not teach him how."
Thorin frowned, "Hobbit Magic? If it is hobbit magic, why could Bilbo not be able to use it? he is a Hobbit." He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Isemgil shook his head, "That isn't how Hobbit Magic works. One must willing give themselves to Yavanna and be freely given back before they can use Hobbit magic." He looked up sharply, "You did bring him back, didn't you?"
"Yes, Bilbo is alive and well, if you must know." Thorin looked affronted.
"Good, otherwise this would've been a wasted trip." Isemgil nodded, "Luckily, it was not."
"May I ask why there are so many making this trip? If it is just to teach Bilbo Hobbit Magic, I do not see why it's necessary to bring so many people along."
Isemgil scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Well, it sort of got a tad out of hand."
"How so?"
"Well, at first it was just going to be Maralus Brandybuck making the trip since he can also use Hobbit Magic, but he said teaching Bilbo is a long job, so he would be bringing his family too. But Merimac, Marlus' brother and a bounder, didn't think it would be safe to travel across the entire world with a family with no defence, so volunteered himself to go. Later, his wife decided they would be moving there too since it's getting a bit crowded in their house with their in-laws and she wanted more space to have more children. But she also brought her best friend Ruby who brought her own family. Soon enough, 14 families were volunteering to journey across to the Lonely Mountain, most of which had a bounder or two in their family." He laughed a little.
"I can see how that got out of hand. Where would you be settling? We hardly have any room in the mountain for all the Darrow, I don't believe there will be enough room for more, not for another few more year or so at least." Thorin asked.
Isemgil waved him off, "We can build our own homes in the hills outside. Hobbits don't belong underground, I'm rather surprised Bilbo's been staying in there, if he has."
"Bilbo gets outside as often as he can and helps on the farms almost every day." Thorin explained.
"Good." He clapped his hands, "Anyway, were is Bilbo? I need to talk to him."
Thorin turned to Kili, "Can you find Bilbo?"
Kili nodded, "He's in his garden." He was off, running up the staircases three at a time towards the garden Thorin had personally made for him as a courting gift.
Not ten minutes later, Bilbo was down the stairs and shouted, "Isemgil! How are you? Why are you here? it's been so long!" and he pulled the hobbit into a hug.
Isemgil smiled and explained what he had told Thorin. Finally, he gestured for Bilbo to follow to a cart near the back, the most packed one. "We thought that if we were going to come here, then we might as well bring your stuff. It's all here."
"Thank you!"
"Thought, there is one thing I need to tell you."
"Yes?" Bilbo asked worriedly.
Isemgil sighed sadly, "There was a boating accident near the time we left, and Drogo… he and his wife didn't make it."
"Oh, Frodo!" Bilbo gasped, a hand coming to cover his mouth.
Isemgil nodded, "You were named in their will to look after Frodo if anything were to happen to them." He pulled the cart open. This cart, not only being used to store Bilbo's stuff, also had their stock of seeds and was where the children stayed when they were moving. Right now, Frodo and a few others were sleeping, having not gotten up for the morning just yet. Frodo had a bandage wrapped around his head, "He was there when it happened, but luckily he survived. However, he's partially blind in one eye and it's still healing. Will you take care of him?"
"Of course!" Bilbo immediately agreed, then turned to Thorin, "If you don't mind, that is." He gave a small smile.
Thorin pulled Bilbo into a hug and kissed him strongly, "Of course I don't mind. He will be a prince in name in this kingdom from here on."
Bilbo smiled and gave Thorin another kiss. Behind him he could hear Kili making gagging noises and gave him a very impolite finger as he deepened the kiss with their king. Silly Darrow.
The hobbits, as they said, built their homes into the hills around the kingdom, listening to Thorin and his key Architect when they recommended building here instead of there because they will have a clearer and more direct escape route in case of attack and there was a secret tunnel they could dig into just over here so they would have an even better escape, and don't worry, we will protect you if there is a battle.
While the adult Hobbits were building their comfortable holes into the land, the children – there were so many of them, the darrow of Erabor almost melted in awe from the sheer size of their families – were directed to follow Bilbo to the farms and they helped out there. It was a good thing too, since Hobbits ate seven meals a day. They cut down to five, but the dwarves were told bluntly that they would increase it back to seven as soon as they had enough food. If there was enough food, Thorin wasn't going to refute it, the hobbits were bringing the farms alive and making them more bountiful then they ever used to be.
In the afternoons, Bilbo were secreted away by the Hobbits, or more particularly, the one named Maralus Brandybuck to learn Hobbit Magic. Apparently, non-Hobbits weren't allowed to know it since Hobbit Magic is a Hobbit Secret. And hobbits are very good at keeping secrets.
However, there was a little bump in their road to progress. Maralus had decided to investigate Bilbo's living spaces, which he found up to par, but also something very bad. Or more correctly, very cursed. Up until that point, the Dragon's Horde – the kingdoms treasury – had been off limits to everyone citing that dragon sickness was thick in it and they didn't want to risk anyone catching it before they could break it. Maralus was almost drawn to said treasury.
The guards outside it had barred him entry, but Maralus kept demanding that there was something cursed in there that he needed to get rid of because it would spell the ruin for the kingdom. The guards could only say one thing in reply.
"We know. All Darrow know. There is something bad in there, but no one knows how to get rid of it, so until someone can, the king had banned all entry."
And Maralus had shouted in their faces, "I know how to get rid of it!"
That was how Thorin found them. Curious where this was going, Thorin let Maralus enter, but only him. Barely twenty minutes later, he exited with the Arkenstone in his hand.
"This is your problem. It's got a curse of greed stuck to it." And then he drew a dagger from somewhere, cut him hand and smooshed it into the Arkenstone. The King's Jewel hissed, and a black smoke expelled from it before all that was left of the glimmering jewel was an ordinary, granite rock.
Maralus threw it away, "There you go, problem solved." And he walked away, "Though, you might want to burn some Kingsfoil in the room, Dragons have a way of making a place stick of foul magic. It will dissipate in time, but whatever. Up to you dwarves."
"Darrow!" someone corrected. Maralus waved his hand in a 'whatever' manner and left.
Three weeks later, Maralus came into the mountain cursing up a fuss holding a gold ring. He packed a bag, stuffed a lot of extra food, cursed some more, and was reported leaving not an hour later. He wasn't seen for three months, but when he did, he didn't tell anyone where he went. The only thing anyone could get from him was that there was a 'Fucking Bloody Damned stupid ring that needed to be blasted off the face of the mother-fucking earth and I had to go to a giant stupid volcano in the middle of fucking nowhere with this blasted mind-raping god damned evil eye of idiocy to do it.'
Everyone communally decided not to ask.
By the end of summer, Thorin was able to remove the kingdom round rationing and marketplaces started opening for the farmer to sell crops and the dwarven blacksmiths could sell their wares. Now that the kingdom could touch the treasury again, the money was split as it was decreed, a 14th share of the treasure to each member of the company. Thorin blatantly ignored the Lords and Ladies who were demanding money that they had no claim to.
With his share of the money, he split it into thirds. One third would be his money and the money of his family line of Durin, one third would be the kingdom's money that would be used for trade with other Kingdoms and the cost of any repairs Erabor needed. The last third went to the people. It was evenly split so that everyone would get a part of the money. With the amount within Erabor's halls, it was enough that everyone got five gold coins, ten silver and eight copper. it had the desired effect and boosted the economy; business was booming.
When Bilbo saw what he had done with his, he split his share into tenths, one for him, two for the hobbits and any funds they may need – including the cost of food for them for the next year – four to assist rebuilding Erabor, and the rest to the nation as a whole. It only seemed to make his religion grow. Many of the company chose to do similar things with their own money. Nori even started a Spymaster's guild.
By the end of the next winter, half of the east wing of the mountain was cleared, and they started elsewhere. Repairs on the West wing began, starting with the king's room followed closely by the prince's and the lords. For the first time since the day they were married, Thorin and Bilbo were finally alone during the night and made great use of the darkness to test out their new bed. All members of the company had the right to one of these rooms, but only some took them. Gloin instead bought his childhood home in the east wing and began rebuilding it for his family. Little Gimli was ever so happy to see his father, and his wife was even prouder that he had got them a roof to live under.
With the reconstruction of the west wing starting, came the rebuilding of the furnaces. The people not working on repairing the west wing started tearing down, cleaning and rebuilding the furnaces to be in working condition. Guilds started being re-built and they started taking on apprentices. Kili finished his wedding bead – finally – and he was married to Taurial – the she-elf – two weeks later.
Fili found his One in a construction expedition. One of the Darrowdams handing out water and food to the workers had been his One and Fili had his eyes set on her immediately. For the next eight months, they courted before getting married.
It was during the next spring that Thorin learnt another Hobbit secret. Though, this one was far less secret and more of an unknown fact.
Isemgil walked into the court room with another man by his side. That is, Thorin thought it was a man. If he didn't know any better, he would be certain that it was a lady hobbit by the way his belly was stretched in a way that couldn't have been due to fat. If it wasn't for the fact that Isemgil had introduced him as his True – what the Hobbit's called a darrow's One – when they had first arrived, he would not believe it.
Hildigrim was a very lean man and had his arm entwined in Isemgil's. they stopped besides Bilbo and sat down.
"Bilbo, I was wondering if I could steal you for a week or two?" Isengil started.
"Oh, of course, is it near that time already? Dear me, time flies fast." Bilbo said.
Ori leaned over, "What's happening?"
"Oh, nothing bad. Hildigrim is pregnant and the baby is due to come out soon. I'm the only Hobbit here whose been taught to help in a male birth as they are much different to a female birth." Bilbo explained simply.
Pretty much every nearby dwarf who heard any of that did a spit take.
Ori's eyes widened, "Male Hobbits can get pregnant?!"
The three hobbits in the room blinked in confusion, "Yes? Didn't you know that?"
What continued was a long explanation about Hobbit autonomy and how it was different from pretty much every other race.
Later on, Bilbo patted Thorin on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll be teaching Isemgil how to help in a male birth, so we will be able to have children soon too." And then he kissed the king and left to pack a bag of everything he would need for the coming week, completely oblivious to the shocked expression on the king's face.
Little Rose was welcomed into the world not four days later, and the entire kingdom celebrate – like they had done with all the other births that had happened in the kingdom. No matter the race, children were sacred in the lives of all Darrow and no child would come to harm in the care of a child.
Ten months later, Bilbo and Thorin were welcoming their second child into the world, right after Frodo. Frodo would be an amazing older brother and took great care into looking after his little sister. However, even with children, Fili would still be the crown prince. Bilbo didn't want that kind of pressure on his sons, whenever he had them, nor did he want to take that away from Fili. Fili had been trained for it since birth, so he should be king next.
Years past and the kingdom of Erabor grew in power, economy, trade and might. No one, not even a dragon, would be able to take the kingdom now. Under Thorin's rule Erabor prospered. It had been completely rebuilt and the kingdoms vaults repaired so the treasury could be put away. What used to be the treasury – it had only been that through the later years of Thror's rein – became what it used to be, the main marketplace and social hub.
Bilbo and Thorin had twelve children – the number only making those who followed the religion of Bilbo's Magic Tree have more faith in the hobbit – before they decided that was enough. Bilbo had mastered Hobbit Magic enough that Maralus deemed he was good enough. One thing Thorin did learn about Hobbit Magic was that it extended his life span to match his own. If Thorin died tomorrow, so too would Bilbo, but if Thorin lived to old age – he still had another 200 years in him, at least – so too would Bilbo.
The kingdom lived on into the beginnings of an era of peace; an era that was unlikely to end any time soon.
So? How was it? I think I'm shit at writing love or fluff stories, so your opinions are welcome! As anyone who has ever read any of my other fanfictions can tell you, I am absolutely terrible at writing Authors note. I get all hesitant and then don't end up writing anything. Then when I post it and re-read what I wrote I look at it and go, what the fuck am I talking about? Huh?
So yeah, feed back is very much apricated. I won't be able to make it – or any other stories – better if I don't know what's wrong with them in the first place.
Now, this is a one shot, so don't expect any more of it. thank you.
See ya!