Thorin hated to admit it, but it had taken him almost two years to realise that he was one of the main charters in his favourite book. Two years, in which he had owned a book that described a former life he had led, a life where he was king of the Lonely Mountain.
He had read the book at thousand times, yet never had he made the connection and realised who he was, or had been. He'd deemed the dreams to be wishful thinking and for his nephews teasing and constantly references to the book, for being one of their famous 'a new way to annoy our uncle' games. Now that he remembered, he had no doubt that they had known who he had been long before he realised it himself. Suddenly all of their teasing made sense! He understood why they sometimes call him 'King' and 'your highness' in a teasing tone, and why they had looked so offended when he had said that their computer game was silly, because a small dwarf could obviously never defeat a big orc.
Thorin was angry at himself, angry that he had not remembered before now, and that his nephews had known for years but had decided not to tell him. According to them, they had known for almost five years and had used their memories and knowledge of their past to find the other members of their company, and had helped them remember. How they had found the others remained a mystery to him, and every time he asked he got a cryptic answer involving something about computers, hacking and that the government was full of incompetent fools.
It had taken some time but with all of them working together, they had managed to find every single one of their former company. Now the only one they needed to find was their dear burglar, Bilbo Baggins. His book made it easy to find where Bilbo lived and at the same time it showed that he clearly remembered all of them and their adventures together.
So here they were, standing outside a cosy looking cottage, at the end of a small sleepy town. The garden around the cottage was lush and beautiful, with multiplicity colorful flowers and buzzing bees. It looked an awful lot like a modern version of Bag End Kili mused aloud. The others laughed and voiced their agreements as Thorin knocked on the door. It was opened by at young lad, his hair was a mob of dark curls and he had big beautiful blue eyes. He simply stood in the doorway, starred at them, until Balin politely cleared his throat, making the young man jump before looking them all over again, his lips curled into a blinding smile.
"You must be the company of dwarves that Bilbo traveled with!" the lad beamed at them, before lifting his hand in a shy wave, adding: "I'm Frodo." He then promptly turned around calling into the house: "Bilbo! You got visitors!" When Frodo received no response, he simply shook his head fondly.
"They're properly out in the garden." Frodo said, not waiting for their response, before turning and disappearing into the house.
The dwarves stood in stunned silence, until Frodo reappeared, a small frown on his face. "Are you coming or not?" Thorin shook his head slightly, before he and the others followed the energetic boy into the house.
"If you wait in there, I'll go and fetch us something to drink and tell Bilbo you're here." Frodo said, pointing into a cozy living room, before he went deeper into the house.
Thorin and the others barely got to exchange a word, before a small creature tumbled into Kili's leg, making him loose his balance. He flapped wildly with his arms to regain it, but that just resulted in him slapping Fili squared in the chest, making his brother fall down upon him.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Kili mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
The others bellowed with laughter as they saw what caused Kili and Fili to fall. Atop of them both stood a little dog, a tiny pale grey creature with almost no hair, except a mob of white hair atop of its head which was extended to swallow its ears, giving them a puffy look, a waterfall of white hair as its tail and fluffy white legs. All in all, the little dog looked ridiculous, but that wasn't the worst of it. No, the worst was the tiny pink hoodie the dog wore, which across its back, in a fluent written was the words: 'My Precious'.
