Chapter 17

Thorin nodded to Oin. "Go check on Bilbo. He's been limping and won't let me near his feet."

Oin nodded and moved over to where the Dwobbit was sitting beside the fire, chatting amicably to Fíli.

"Oi, laddie! Let me see your feet!" Oin set upon Bilbo such a fierce glare that Bilbo couldn't find the courage to argue and, instead, presented his feet for Oin's inspection.

Thorin fluttered on the sidelines, waiting for the diagnosis. Oin grunted and then walked away. "Ask Beorn to give him boots. I don't care if Hobbits and Dwobbit don't wear shoes. He's going to need them while his feet heal. Got sores all over em."

Thorin nodded like the anxious father he was and quickly went to Beorn. Bilbo watched suspiciously as he saw his father speak earnestly to Beorn. Anything that would make Thorin look remotely like begging had got to be about him, simply because Thorin would only lower himself for his son.

Bilbo watched on, with growing suspicion. The bear of a man nodded and then smiled. Bilbo could hear his voice boom from where he was sitting with Fíli.

"Of course I will provide shoes for little bunny! He shouldn't be hopping everywhere barefoot!"

Bilbo was off the floor and running out the door, or at least, that was his goal. Dwalin and Gloin grabbed him and held him down while Kíli and Oin shoved the new found boots onto Bilbo's feet. Bilbo howled insults and thrashed and squirmed around but Dwalin and Gloin refused to let go.

Finally, when the ordeal was over, Bilbo was left alone, for the most part. Dwalin and Oin were hovering nearby to make sure he didn't just take the shoes off.

It was quite obvious that Bilbo was pouting.

Thorin chuckled. "Bilbo, Princes do not pout."

Fíli rolled his eyes. "I've never heard that one before." Kíli snorted. They grinned at each other, eager to finally see someone else go through the famous 'To Be a Prince' lecture.

Bilbo glared at Thorin. "I do not need shoes!"

Oin grunted. "Tell that to yer feet, laddie."

Bilbo huffed and then walked away from the snickering Dwarves as primly as he could in those stupid, clomping boots. He nearly fell on his face more than once, and that didn't do much for his already bruised ego.

~some times passes~

Bilbo looked around the garden with a smile. He had eased the boots off without Oin or Thorin noticing and was now hidden under a great oak tree. He chuckled slightly and focused on his whittling.

He smiled slightly at his progress. Bilbo blew the shavings away and stared at the looked at the small statuette with satisfaction.

"Bilbo! What are you doing with your boots off?!"

Bilbo quickly looked up and covered the figurine from sight. It was only Fíli, but the Dwarf couldn't keep a thing from Thorin. Bilbo smiled at the approaching Dwarf. "Just wanted a moment's peace. I'm not walking barefoot, as you can see. So I didn't think any harm could happen by just sitting barefoot." Bilbo shrugged.

Fíli looked at where he was hiding the little statue. "What have you got in your pocket?"

Bilbo coughed. "Just something I've been working on. It's not done yet." He smiled tensely at Fíli. The other Dwarf just laughed and nodded.

"Aye, well, make sure to show me when you're done."

Bilbo smiled back. "I will."

"I came over to tell you that Uncle is having a panic attack. You slipped Dwalin's watch. Also, lunch is ready."

Bilbo nodded again. "Okay. I'll…I'll come straight away. Just need to finish one little thing first." The Ring had been a boon. That was the only way he could slip Dwalin's hawk eyes.

Fíli grinned and nodded and walked away. Bilbo pulled the figurine and started sanding it down, smoothing the rough patches. He smiled at the little statue of his mother. It was perfect. Detailed, smooth, and masterfully done! Bilbo was proud of his work.

"It's ready." He swallowed and pulled his bothersome boots on and quickly moved to the hall.

Thorin gave a shout of relief at the sight of his son and immediately checked him over for injuries that Bilbo might have gotten in the last hour that he had been out of Thorin's sight.

Bilbo suffered through it, and the lecture, quietly and then he took Thorin's hand and put the figurine in it. "I made it. For you." With that he turned and moved to the dining room.

Thorin stared at the small statue of Belladonna holding a little baby boy. She was smiling. The baby was sleeping. Thorin felt his throat tighten in emotion. He looked up to see Bilbo laughing and fighting Kíli and Fíli off, stopping them from stealing his food.

They are like brothers. Thorin smiled at the thought. He coughed and then moved towards his son. Bilbo stood uncertainly, and Thorin swiftly closed the gap between them. "I am touched that you made this for me, Bilbo." He smiled at his son. "I am proud to call you my son. I know that I haven't said that much, if at all, but in the presence of my company, I, Thorin Oakenshield, am proud to call you, Bilbo, my son. You belong to the Durin line."

He pulled his son close to him and touched foreheads gently. "My son…my own son…" Thorin murmured quietly and kissed Bilbo's cheeks. He was overwhelmed, once again, with the feeling of absolute joy. He had a son! His son was alive! Not dead.

Bilbo was alive.

And Thorin would do anything in his power to keep him that way.

He would not lose his son again.