AN: Last chapter was nearly 8k so forgive me for the short chapter. But as you will see, there are about ten years before the start of the quest, now is the time to tell me what you want to see between Bilbo and Thorin, please?
Chapter 9 - The Meeting
Thorin hated to go, but he had little choice if he wanted to ensure amends were made with the Shire.
He hugged his siblings, he squeezed Kíli tight, and tried not to crush Fíli as he held him close. Saying goodbye had never been so hard.
Frerin would be leaving in the following week.
Giving a final wave, Thorin found he had no words for the impending separation he felt.
The pony the Rangers gave him was fleet footed, and Thorin found himself grateful for the distraction of keeping his mount steady as the set out east.
There wasn't much talking between himself and the single Ranger that remained to escort him to the Shire.
In fact, it wasn't until the following morning did he feel like speaking.
"How long have you known Fíli?" Thorin asked.
Estel directed his mount so they rode side by side, Thorin didn't appreciate the hight difference.
"Twenty years or so."
"You must have been young," Thorin remarked.
"I'll be around longer than most," Estel said.
Thorin sighed, "So what is it you're hoping I can do for your halflings?"
"Hobbits, halfling is considered to be an offensive term. They are half of nothing."
"What can one dwarf do for the hobbits' Shire?" Thorin asked again.
"Given the season, and the mild winter, not much is expected of you. But their spring fair is upcoming, where many merchants come to the Shire to sell their wares. We need help watching the men and to ensure nothing happens where money is involved."
"And I'm welcome to sell my wares?" Thorin queried.
"Of course, it would be strange if you didn't. There's also a small forge that has gone unused for some years that I have been ensured you've been welcomed to use."
Thorin nodded, "And the Rangers could not do this because?"
"Three of our women have newborns, we are short handed and elves don't like to stand still so long. Your presence will be seen as an oddity."
"I'll be targeted, you mean."
"Yes, but unlike the hobbits, you can defend yourself."
"Why wouldn't any thieves go for the easy targets?"
"You'll find most hobbits are prone to trade goods over paying with coin, and those who collect coin tend to spend it. The Shire may be a wealthy place but it's not the kind of wealth that is easily stollen. Their fauntlings are more likely to be culprits of pickpocking and it's not considered to be an overt issue. A man robbing them would have to choose their target carefully if they wanted more than pocket change."
Thorin sighed, "But I will expect to be paid in coin."
"For dwarven wares," Estel answered. "You would be correct to assume it. A custom pan or new farming tools, that would be well worth any of their savings."
Thorin grunted in response, wondering if he shouldn't have tried hocking his goods there years ago. Of course, he may not have gotten as warm a welcome without the endorsement of the Rangers.
oOo
Bilbo scooped Pippin up and then Merry in his other arm as Frodo and Sam giggled madly on the carpet.
Cursing to himself, Bilbo said, "Why did I agree to watch the lot of you?"
"Uncle Bilbo, Pippin's mother was in labour with twins," Frodo reminded.
Bilbo sighed looking at the ash spilling out from the fire. "Alright, time for a bath."
The four fauntlings cheered.
Bilbo sighed again, knowing after he was finished cleaning up the living room, he would be cleaning the washroom.
Still, seeing Frodo's beaming face as Merry and Pippin chittered about bubbles, and Sam vibrated with excitement, Bilbo couldn't bring himself to be upset.
He didn't let go of the two in his arms as he went to the washroom.
Bag End's washroom was considered to be the finest in the Shire. In other words, the tub was considered to be pool-sized and easily fit the four fauntlings.
Watching the little ones splash around in the filling tub and growing mountain of bubbles, Bilbo's heart gave a little twinge. He couldn't help thinking of all the children and grandchildren his father had been hoping for when he built Bag End.
Frodo laughed suddenly, bright and loud, as Pippin snorted in a bubble and hacked as if he had laughed while drinking milk.
Bag End would be too quiet when the other fauntlings returned to their families at the end of the week. Perhaps, he could ask Sam's parents if the young gardner could stay a few extra nights.
Bilbo wished more than anything that he could give Frodo more family.
oOo
Thorin followed the Ranger through the Shire and he couldn't shake the sense he was walking toward something inevitable.
His every step clicked with the extra supplies he brought, each and every foot falling feeling like a step he could not take back.
"Is this Mr. Baggins truly going to put me up for the season?" Thorin asked.
"I don't see why not," Estel answered lightly.
Thorin came to an abrupt stop. "He doesn't know we are coming."
Estel gave him a smile, "Hobbits don't need much encouragement to welcome guests."
"Oh?" Thorin challenged. "So I could knock on any door here and expect to be invited to dinner."
Their was a twinkle in the Ranger's eyes that reminded him uncomfortably of Frerin when he was playing some prank, as if this whole conversation were amusing Estel greatly. "Bilbo is like an uncle to me, and I have invited you. If there is a problem, we can arrange something else."
Thorin nodded once, but his apprehension was rising.
The house on the hill was rather lovely. While Hobbit holes weren't deep enough to truly speak to his stone sense, the Shire really wasn't the place for digging deep. The Shire was soft soil and rich clay. If there was anything worth mining here, it wouldn't be worth the effort to get to. No stone quarry, and as the leader of his people, not even mithril, would be reason enough for destroying the fields of food.
He agreed with the elves, this place and its caretakers were worth protecting.
oOo
Bilbo was preparing supper for Frodo and Sam as the fauntlings played 'the floor is lava' in the living room on the furniture and cushions.
The knock came at the perfect time as he moved the soup to the simmer plate.
The boys didn't even notice as Bilbo went to answer the knock as the yelled to one another to not die in the lava.
"Uncle Bilbo," Estel greeted when he opened his front door.
Bilbo immediately went for a hug, the tall boy –who wasn't as young as he used to be– knelt to engulf Bilbo in an embrace. When they broke apart, Bilbo stilled as he saw a dwarf behind Estel.
He was a beautiful.
Long dark hair and sapphire blue eyes. Bilbo, who had dined with fairie queens and had killed a gobling or two felt his pulse jump to his throat. Though he could not say why, this dwarf sent him immediately on edge while setting some baser part of him at ease.
This dwarf had the mark of fate about him, and Bilbo just knew from the crown the tips of his ears down to his hairy toes, that Middle-Earth would change based off of this person's choices and actions.
oOo
Estel knocked on the door that was soon answered.
A hobbit with golden-brown hair stood in a spill of warm light. His expression was wary until he spotted Estel.
His smile was transformative and Thorin felt his heart trip over itself.
"Estel! Come in, come in! Frodo will be so happy to see you," the hobbit said after pulling away from the hug with the Ranger who had knelt to hug him back.
The hobbit looked up and froze when he saw Thorin.
Thorin held his breath, tensing as he readied himself to be dismissed as he always was by outsiders.
"Bilbo, this is Thorin, a dwarf from the Blue Mountains to help keep an eye on the spring market. He's a smith and will be selling his goods and perhaps fix up the old forge," Estel explained. "Thorin, Mister Bilbo Baggins, Master of Bag End."
Thorin found himself oddly grateful the Ranger hadn't introduced him by title.
Bilbo smiled, "Of course, of course, a pleasure to meet you, Master Thorin. If you don't mind my nephew's excitement you're welcome to stay as long as you like."
"Are all your kind so accommodating to strangers?" Thorin asked as he followed the Ranger into the home.
Rare was it that he walked into a non-dwarven home, feeling tall and welcome.
The lanky Ranger had to stoop as he manvaued through the halls.
Which immediately cheered him.
Bilbo chuckled, "Ah, that quite depends. I trust the Rangers more than most and I'm a Took on my mother's side."
Thorin had no idea what a Took was or their importance that would be relevant to inviting him into his home, but it didn't matter when the smell of pie hit his nose.
A little hobbit was opening an oven.
Bilbo immediately rushed over to take urge the child away.
The little boy turned great big blue eyes up at Thorin and he felt himself completely at this little person's mercy.
Surely, no race had any right to look so adorable outside of toddlers.
Estel grinned, "Frodo, this is Thorin, he'll be staying with you and your uncle for the season. Thorin, may I introduce Master Frodo Baggins. As well as his friend, Samwise Gamgee."
Frodo blinked then took two steps sideways, as if not sure if whether he should hug Thorin or run away from him. The second child, blonde as shy as he was small, held onto Frodo's shoulders as if he were trying to become one with his shadow.
Estel didn't give either child a chance to get away as he snatched them up into an embrace. The childen's laughter was musical as they hugged the Ranger round the neck. Though Samwise had bright pink cheeks once he was set down, seeming quite ambushed by the attention.
Bilbo, having taken care of the pie, bustled toward them. "You three set the table for five, and no, Strider, you're not getting out of a meal. Thorin, I'll show you to the guest room and where you can get cleaned after your journey."
"Wouldn't dream of escaping, Uncle Bilbo," Estel said in the tone of a child talking to a beloved auntie.
Bilbo didn't acknowledge the comment save for a slight smile.
Thorin cleared his throat as he followed Bilbo through the well designed halls, "Thank you for your hospitality. I can repay—"
Bilbo waved a hand, "I'll not hear of it." He turned to give Thorin a scathing look. "I'm sure there are things about dwarvish culture I will get completely wrong and I expect you to correct me as I am about to correct you when concerning hobbits. It's a grave insult to offer payment for hospitality freely offered, especially for someone of my standing. My wealth is seen as a bit unseemly and it would be dishonorable of me to ever accept payment of a guest. Least of all from someone who is offering the Shire protection."
Thorin inclined his head, "I meant no offense."
Bilbo gave him a nod, "There's the privy, the washroom across from it, and the guest room here. Beside your room is mine and the next door down is Frodo's. At the end of the hall is my store room."
"Isn't that a bit far for a pantry?" Thorin asked without thinking.
Bilbo grinned, "I have two pantries and both are located right off from the kitchen. The back room used to be my mother's library but I use it to dry my herbs and my inventory."
"Inventory for what?" Thorin asked, curious now.
"Healing ointments, salves, and crushed herbs for cooking. Simple stuff. Neither chemistry nor healing are my areas of study, but I have several clients West of the Misties who insist if I follow their recipes to scale, they would be perfectly safe to use."
Thorin blinked. In his world, healers were more useful and respectable than any other person. He had seen too much suffering and war to think otherwise. "My cousin is a healer."
Bilbo flashed him a smile, "Then perhaps we can trade. You're a Smith, no? I've been meaning to get new gardening tools. But none of that now. You can drop your belongings in your room and join us when you're ready. Let me know if the bed isn't to your liking. I think you're short enough to fit into a normal sized bed, but this is one of the guest rooms we keep for the big folk."
Bilbo left, Thorin's mind spinning over the term your room being used so freely. He also smiled to himself that a 'normal sized bed' meant smaller than the average dwarven bed and an abnormally sized bed was for men and elves.
He should have realised that he would be able to escape short jokes by visiting the lands of the halflings.
He hesitated after putting his bags down. He hadn't been expecting this level of welcome and given the children…
Thorin sighed.
He took off his leathers, mail, and plate. And after visiting the lavatory and washing his face and hands, he changed into a soft cotton tunic and his lighter travelling pants. He debated with himself, but when he remembered Estel kicking his boots off at the door after setting the lad down, Thorin decided to take his own boots and socks off. He lingered in the guest room as he let his feet air out a bit.
No reason to stink out supper when he was trying to be mindful of hobbit customs.
The hobbit hole had a strange song to it.
He was certain his people would grumble about not going deep enough and about the poor protection from wargs the home offered much less against goblins, orcs, or human marauders, but the song of this home held a gentle beauty.
Thorin had become accustomed that when he left Ered Luin, he would never get a truly peaceful night's rest being so exposed and above ground. But he was beneath the earth here, despite the visibility of the night.
The hobbit hole sung with the clay that had shaped it. Shaped with gentle hands that had burrowed into the earth setting the space with wooden beams before packing it down with layers of mixed clay. The second part must have been done in the winter when the air was dry and the fireplace could be burned to a stifling degree without much humidity.
Those same gentle hands, step by step, coaxing and sculpting the home while obeying the needs of the earth that wanted to continue neutering life above while sheltering a home below. It was a soft song for a kind and beloved home.
Sighing, he pulled himself from his reverie, knowing he would have the night to fall asleep to that song.
He was gratified when he emerged into the dining room and Mister Baggins froze to stare at Thorin.
The hobbit caught himself, looking away and bustling to and fro the kitchen, the tips of his pointed ears tinting red.
Thorin sat beside Estel across from little Frodo.
Bilbo sat beside Frodo, placing a final plate on the table.
"Do hobbits always eat this much?" Thorin asked, stunned when he realised how much food was in front of him.
"If we can," Bilbo said. "Big meals are especially important for our fauntlings."
His nephew smiled up at him with a bit of green on his cheek as his uncle ruffled his dark curls.
Bilbo looked up, catching Thorin's gaze with honeyed hazel eyes, and that's when he knew.
That's when Thorin knew that this little halfling was his home.
His One.
It was a glorious thing, to find his other half. Glorious… and gutting.
For if Thorin had been a Prince of Erebor, not amounted to a prince in exile, then he could have offered Master Bilbo Baggins anything his heart desired, met his every need.
But as Thorin was now, looking at the bounty of food before him, he felt his heart plummet.
He could not offer him this as he had not this much to offer his own family.
Thorin had never felt more like a beggar at the door.
Still, when Thorin looked upon his One, he let the knowledge that he would have a season to him. He would have the opportunity to get to know Bilbo and share in his life for a time, and Thorin would be grateful for it.
He could not, would not, ask for more.
oOo
AN: Thoughts, dorcus gazelles, or feedback, pretty please?