Hey there! I hope that you enjoy this chapter, please forgive any typos. 17 days in, and I am utterly exhausted, but still doing my best.

Chapter Seventeen: Three's a Crowd

Bilbo stood at the door of Bag End, beaming as Kíli ran towards him. The little dwarfling had spent the last week ploughing down near Buckland with Esmeralda, Paladin and Saradoc, after they had been caught pilfering potatoes from young Farmer Maggot. Bilbo himself had been forced to return to Hobbiton, as he had promised to have tea with his Aunt Belba – an engagement he could certainly not get out of.

It had been a week without his little dwarven shadow, and despite the thought that he should be relishing his freedom and drinking until dawn, Bilbo had missed Kíli dreadfully. But now, Kíli was back.

Bending down, Bilbo reached out, ready to snatch Kíli from the ground and swing him through the hair.

His fingers scraped Kíli's.

And two grey, skinny arms darted out and seized the dwarfling's neck from behind.

Bilbo cried out as Kíli screamed, but even as the hobbit began to run, a cackling Gollum dragged his little one away with heart-stopping speed.

"Bagginses steals our precious," the creature crooned, fleeing much faster than Bilbo could run. "So, we will take the Bagginses precious, we will!"

"Bilbo!" Kíli's eyes were white with fear, and his hands flailed desperately. "Help me, Bilbo, Bilbo please, help!"

"Kíli!" he cried, trying with all his might to run faster. It felt as though his legs were sunk deep in in a bog, and they would not answer him. "Kíli, no! Wait!"

"Wait!" screeched Gollum, his horrid face leering over Kíli's shoulder. "Wait, precious, wait! It says what we says, it does, because it knows now. We shall take your precious away, forever!"

The creature skidded to a halt, by the edge of a sudden cliff, his arm around Kíli's neck.

"Please!" Bilbo stumbled forward, pulling a golden ring out of his pocket. "Take it, take it, just don't hurt him. Please."

"Too late," said Gollum, but it was not Gollum's voice – it was colder, harsher, and more full of malice.

Bilbo's scream could not save his Kíli from being kicked over the cliff, and he hurtled forwards, collapsing to the edge of the cliff, peering over at his baby, broken over jagged rocks.

Flying upright in bed, Bilbo drew in a strangled gasp. Dream. It was no more than a dream. They were in Rivendell, they were safe, Kíli was fine. Fíli was fine, too, and remarkably so, as was Frodo. Bilbo's family were alive, and safe, they were fine.

He took a deep breath and tried to stop himself from trembling. Really, he was being silly.

"Bilbo?" a sleepy voice murmured, and he cursed silently.

"I'm sorry," he replied, lying back down and wrapping an arm around his wife. "I didn't mean to wake you. Nothing's wrong."

"Well that's a lie if ever I've heard one," she yawned, and shifted around to face him. Her eyebrows were furrowed over her perfect blue eyes, and Bilbo could not help but marvel at how beautiful she was, even when worried at some godforsaken hour of the morning. "You're cold all over, amrâlimê."

"Ah, just another bad dream." He tried to smile. "I'll be fine."

She sighed, tracing her hand down his cheek. "Which one was it this time?"

"Kíli."

"A full circle," Dís said sadly, staring down towards Bilbo's chest. The dark smudges of exhaustion had not quite faded from beneath her eyes, and she still looked weary. Bilbo cursed inside, and wished that he had not woken her. "It always starts and ends with our Kíli, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Though a circle is the right description – it's like the boys are taking turns. First Kíli, then Fíli, then Frodo. I had a nightmare about Bróin the other night, for crying out loud! But it always comes back to Kíli."

"For me too," his wife said, and her voice seemed to shrink. Her fingers drew absently on Bilbo's chest as she spoke, and he could see the fear flickering in her eyes even as they lowered. "I am so afraid of losing… and Kíli reminds me I lost before."

As much as he wanted to reassure her, Bilbo did not know quite what to say. He could never lose sight of the hell Dís had been through during the blissful twenty years Bilbo had spent with Kíli in the Shire.

"And Fíli –" she moaned. "I do not know what I would do without him, Bilbo. And you…"

"Hush, now," he murmured, kissing her gently. "Hush. Fíli is alright. Our boys are safe."

"For now." A small smile twitched at Dís' lips. "Kíli is a magnet for trouble, after all. Fíli and Frodo are sensible lads, for the most part. They don't need worrying about as much, but Kíli would find a way to walk into mayhem were he bound at hand and foot."

"I suppose," Bilbo let out a sigh that was almost a laugh. The image of Kíli running happily towards him came to the forefront of his mind, and he closed his eyes. "They take my greatest memories from me."

"I'm sorry?" Dís sounded confused, and he felt her tuck a curl away from his face.

"So often, now, my dreams will start as memories, and more often than not they are good memories. Sometimes great ones. But they get waylaid, ambushed, by my greatest fears and then I cannot think of the best moments of my life without seeing that wretched Gollum drag Kíli away, or –" Bilbo stopped himself, squeezing his eyes tighter closed.

Dís did not push for the alternatives. Instead, she asked, "What was the memory tonight?"

"Kíli's return from Buckland," Bilbo said miserably.

"I think I remember – the longest you were ever parted, was it not?" When he nodded, she continued. "Was that among your greatest memories?"

Bilbo nodded. There were tears beneath his eyelids and it was becoming uncomfortable, so he opened his eyes. Before he could move to wipe them away, Dís had done it for him. "It was. For when he got back, he gave me the biggest hug I had ever received. Held on with his feet and arms all at once, and proclaimed how much he'd missed me. I asked if he'd had fun and he said… he said…"

"Said what?"

Bilbo took a deep breath. "He said that he had, but that it was hard without his family there. I tried to comfort him – it had been little over a year, he still got rather upset sometimes, but he laughed. He laughed, and said... 'No, Bilbo, I meant you!' He had never called me family before. For me, it was the moment of no return, I suppose. In my heart, I knew then that I'd be bound to that silly little dwarfling until the day I died."

"That," Dís whispered, "is a special memory. Whatever happens, whatever our future holds, it does not change the past. It does not change the fact that we have been so blessed."

Bilbo smiled, and rested his forehead against hers. "We are blessed. And cursed, apparently, though for that I blame your side of the family. We Bagginses are notably respectable."

"Oh, that's a little below the belt," she scolded with a smile of her own, knowing only too well that he meant no harm. "Besides, it's easy to be respectable when you live a life of milk and honey."

"How could you possibly say that when you've met the Sackville-Bagginses?" he teased, shifting to hold her a little closer.

"We cannot choose our relations," she said, kissing him softly.

"But we choose our family," he whispered, thinking of his Kíli and his Fíli and his ridiculous family of dwarves.

"No," Dís replied. "No, we do not choose our family. We make it."

Outside, a bird began to sing. Dawn was not far off then. Bilbo shook his head slowly. "That cannot be."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because I would never be capable of making anything this wonderful."

"Poppycock. You half-created Kíli, even if not by blood."

"True. He was a savage when I got him."

Dís let out a sound that was half laugh, half cry of outrage and rolled over to lie on top of him, pinning him down to the bed. Her hair fell about his face, and his heart fluttered, and his nightmare was completely forgotten. "Savage, was he? I'll show you savage-"

A rap on the door cut her off, and her arm slipped on the silken sheets. With a startled gasp, she collapsed on top of Bilbo.

"Omph!" He flailed for a moment, grinning at the sight of his wife. She had sat bolt upright, her cheeks bright red, and her hands clasped over her mouth. Even her ears were turning pink.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, though it sounded like she was on the verge of giggles.

Equal parts annoyed and amused, Bilbo massaged his chest and called out, "who is it?"

"Kíli."

Dís groaned and flopped back against the pillows. Bilbo laughed and sat up, though he was a little annoyed himself. Not at Kíli, of course, but he had not spent any quality time alone with his wife for months. In Bag End Frodo had been sleeping on the floor by their bed most nights, and recently they had been far too worried about Fíli. But it must have been the last time they were in Rivendell that his heart had raced in so wonderful a way.

"He couldn't wait an hour," muttered Dís, pushing herself into a sitting position and pulling up the covers, before calling out, "Come in?"

The door edged open and Kíli slipped around it, looking as though he had caught up on perhaps a tenth of the sleep he had missed. "Sorry to wake you, Bilbo, Ama."

"You didn't," Bilbo said gently, kicking Dís beneath the covers as her ears grew red. Kíli's eyes widened slightly, and then he straightened.

"Anyway, I'm sorry. I just wanted to let you know that Elrond has planned to hold the Council tomorrow. Now Fíli's alright. To decide what to do with… it."

Bilbo's stomach clenched. Fíli was doing marvellously – since truly waking three days ago, he had been making more progress than Bilbo would have dared to believe. But the ring…

The ring.

He hated it for what it was doing to his family, he loathed the pain it had put them through, but the thought of discussing its fate was oddly uncomfortable. He shuddered slightly, and tried to shake it off. That was what the ring wanted – for him to protect it.

He would die before he protected something that had led to the stabbing of his son.

"What else is there, Kíli?" Dís said, gently tugging Bilbo from his thoughts. He blinked, and saw that Kíli was indeed shuffling on his feet, glancing at the ground like a bearer of bad news.

"I ran into Legolas in the hall."

Bilbo's eyes widened, and he glanced at Dís. Shock had opened her mouth, but he was the first to respond. "Thranduil's son?"

"Aye," said Kíli gravely. "Things go ill in the east."

"What things?" Dís asked quickly, but Kíli shook his head.

"I do not know. That was what he said – he promised to say more at the Council, but bade me tell you that the Nazgûl have already been to Erebor. They were looking for us months ago. And that Thorin has been trying to send word to us for months."

Shivering, Bilbo pulled the covers up slightly. The thought of those horrid, terrifying creatures anywhere near his home, and near so vulnerable a town as New Dale –

"If that is the worst of his news, we should be lucky," Dís said. "We already know where those foes are."

Kíli gave a small shrug. "I don't know. But I thought you'd want to know."

"Thank you," Bilbo said. "But truly, my lad, it could have waited until dawn. Why are you awake and in the halls at all? You should be sleeping?"

Stifling a yawn so obviously it was almost funny, Kíli gave yet another shrug. "I woke early, and Luno needed to relieve himself."

Dís sighed, easing herself out of the bed. She crossed the room, ruffling Kíli's hair for a moment. "Go back to sleep, dushtêl. You have earnt it."

Then, she went disappeared into the little en suite, and closed the door behind her. Yawning, Bilbo clambered out of bed himself, and put his hand on Kíli's face.

"Your mother is right. It'll do you good, Kíli," he promised. "Go into Fíli's room if you must. But get some sleep. You look awful."

Kíli attempted to look disgruntled, but he did not do very well at it. "Mean."

"I mean it. Rest. There will be time for worrying later."

Sighing, Kíli nodded. "Very well. For you." He enveloped Bilbo in a bone crunching hug, and the hobbit felt a cool, metal ring press into his chest.

He hid his scowl in his son's hair, hating the reminder of their strife and the danger he was putting his family in.

Hating the way that his heart soared when he touched it.

Pursing his lips at his reflection, Merry straightened out the only decent jacket he had brought with him. Most of his good clothes were at his grandparents' house – there had been no point in packing them, after all, but at least a nice jacket would be of more use than Pippin's tankard.

This jacket was a deep green colour, and it had brass buttons that shone like gold. It suited his favourite yellow waistcoat well, and it was wonderful comfortable. But as he prepared for dinner, Merry felt like it made him look very small, and very unimportant. He was not sure why, but it did, and it was a most uncomfortable feeling.

"Pippin?" he said slowly. He could see Pippin on the mirror, perched on his bed, nattering away about some drinking game that he was going to play with (or lose to) Gimli when Bilbo was not watching. When Merry spoke, he looked up, apparently surprised at being interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Doesn't what bother me?" Pippin looked even more puzzled. "You'll have to be more specific."

"The fact that nobody is going to tell us what's going on."

Pippin's confused expression hardened into a frown. "What do you mean, Merry? We know what's going on – Bilbo's ring –"

"Yes, yes," Merry said darkly, turning around to face his cousin. "But there's going to be a council tomorrow, did you know that?"

"No," Pippin said, looking mildly affronted. "I wasn't invited."

"They're going to talk about what to do next, and they're going to keep us out of it. I heard Bilbo and Elrond talking about it after breakfast. 'Best the young'uns keep occupied,' Bilbo said. 'They'll want to help, or learn more than they should about things that'd get them into trouble.' And Elrond said he'd organise for one of the twins to take us out to some pool or lake or something – I kept listening, but they didn't say anything else of much importance. They mean to keep us out of it, Pip."

Now Pippin looked offended. "What do they think we're going to do? Swallow the thing and see if that gets rid of it?"

Merry laughed. "I don't think they'd put that past you, Pippin." His cousin threw a pillow at him, and he dodged. "But I don't know what they think we'll do. Probably think we're not old enough to understand, which is just ridiculous."

"Aye," Pippin said, his face darkening so suddenly that Merry was a little taken aback. "But we're not fools, Merry."

"Well, I'm not" Merry said slowly, earning him another pillow. He let that one hit him in the face – he probably deserved it. "I'm only joking."

"So, what are we going to do?" Pippin asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't know." Merry frowned. "I don't like the idea of being carted around Middle-Earth like children just because they don't think we're old enough to make up our own minds. Because that's what'll happen. They'll decide whether we're going home or back to the Shire, or staying here. And I don't want that. We deserve to make up our own minds."

"Aye," nodded Pippin eagerly, before pausing. "But Merry, what are our own minds saying?"

Merry sighed, tugging at his sleeves. "I don't know."

His treacherous cousin raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "My, you're knowing so little today you're almost me, Merry."

Merry rolled his eyes. A part of him was sure that they must be the strongest muscles in his body, with all the exercise they got. "Oh, shut up Pippin. You're not stupid, you just hold things in your brain the way watering can holds water. It's there and useless for a long time, and then when you go to use it, it all just drains away."

"That's not very nice." Pippin's frown was erring dangerously towards a pout, though Merry would probably earn a good wallop for saying that out loud.

Instead, the older hobbit snorted. "I'm joking, Pippin. You should have a quick look for your sense of humour while I finish getting ready. Perhaps it's under the bed."

But Pippin did not rise to the bait. "Merry?"

"Yes…?"

"What are we going to do?" Pippin asked, an unsettling, solemn look on his face.

"All that we can," said Merry, a slight grin twitching onto his face. "We're going to listen in on that meeting."

"Right," Pippin looked surprised for a moment, but then he nodded. "Right. I'll bring the snacks."

"Snacks?!"

"Well, Uncle Bilbo'll be there, and elves and Gandalf and they'll talk for hours, Merry. They'll hear my stomach growling from half a mile away if I don't bring snacks." Pippin reasoned.

Merry considered this. "Good idea. But quiet ones, no apples!"

"Merry, do I look like an idiot to you?"

"Well, your waistcoat is inside out."

With that, Pippin vaulted across the bed and knocked Merry to the floor with a playful howl of 'rage.' Laughing, Merry fought back, wrapping his legs around Pippin's waist and trying to flip him over to gain the high ground. But Pippin had been training in wrestling for just as long as Merry, and they were a fairly even match. The boys had grown up watching Fíli and Kíli tussle over the slightest disagreements, if the mood took them, and it was a habit they had picked up rather quickly – to Aunt Ellie's distaste.

The tumbled towards the doorway, each using every legal trick in the book. Given that they had been taught by Dwalin, it was a very big book. All of a sudden, Merry's head hit the wall and he began to see stars. His hand flew out and rapped the hard wood floor three times, and Pippin reluctantly sat up.

"Alright, Merry?"

Just as Merry sat up and opened his mouth, the door opened inwards, smacking him clean in the back of the skull. For a moment, the world was made of white light. "Kakhuf inbarathrag!"

A delighted gasp came from the one who had opened the door, and Merry let out a groan that had nothing to do with pain.

"Meriadoc!" Bróin was grinning like one of their wolves when they spotted prey. "Did you just swear? Whatever will your ama say?"

Merry rubbed at his poor old head, and sent a wounded look to his dwarven cousin. "I don't know, but I doubt she'll be heard over your mama yelling at you for braining me."

Bróin laughed and offered Merry his hand, yanking the hobbit to his feet. "Sorry about that. Thought you'd like to know that you're running late for dinner. Though speaking of mothers and what they say, Pip, do you know that your waistcoat's inside out?"

I know that little changed in this chapter, but I didn't want to miss a day again and the bit that I was considering adding will work better later anyway. I just hope it's not a let down with the lack of new material. I hope to be with you again tomorrow, have a lovely day.