Tolkien: I quote a poem but I cut some of it and put in a refrain to make it more songlike. I recommend looking it up on youtube because artists have put some of his poems to song, it is beautiful.

NOTE: These ages are not exact, but just generally to understand the passage of time, Bilbo is fae so his age doesn't match.

Fili is 52(23) Kili 57(24) Bilbo 61 (36) Frodo 31 (16)

Market day Bilbo catching pick pockets

Chapter 11 - Diplomacy of Faunts

Sara knew that Bilbo wouldn't change his mind, that didn't mean he didn't press the issue in the morning. And their fears of returning to Buckland seemed sillier in the light of day.

Esmeralda had shewed Bilbo out of his own kitchen so Sara could ask again.

Sometimes, like now, it was hard to remember that he and Bilbo were not so far apart in age. For all that Bilbo looked younger than he ought, he had always been wiser than his years. That he had been the father of Sara's best friend growing up, would always mean a part of Sara looked up to Bilbo.

That Bilbo had made himself the darling of every healer in the region in addition to his estate and properties he managed, just made him seem, larger than life, even when sharing a smial with him.

"Will Merry's Took be sharing a room with Frodo and Merry?" Bilbo asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Bilbo! You have to think about this, this is not a choice you just– It's not something you just do. Guests go bad in a week or two."

"As I told you yesterday, this isn't about guests, this is about family. And I don't imagine you'll be the only ones asking. Besides, my father built this smial for a family, and family will always be welcome, aside from Lobelia, who was quite dedicated to burning down the bridges between us a long time ago."

Saradoc grabbed Bilbo in a hug, "Thank you! Thank you, Bilbo! You truly are the greatest!"

Bilbo hugged him back then waved him off, "Yes, yes. Now, you're going to help me clean up the spare rooms. I think I'll just invite Paladin, we all know his Tookish pride will keep him from asking until things become dire. You're lucky I donated most of my clothes, I have more empty rooms now."

"We can bring all our things, we won't have to buy anything new," Saradoc said. "We can't– the hobbits of Bree already moved and we are waiting for the trouble to come to us in Buckland."

Bilbo nodded, "It would be easier for the elves to help us if we are living tighter together even if it means moving further away from them. Esmeralda might have to assist me as landlord, however, I barely have patience for the tenants I have. I don't look forward to more."

"The Thain hasn't put out any orders regarding Buckland yet, but all the willing families decided to ask their willing relatives politely before it becomes a necessity. Aside from Paladin."

Bilbo nodded, "Aye, that will make it easier for the stubborn ones. The orders would only apply to them rather than saying it was just for everyone elses' sake. Frodo is going to be pleased."

"Sam will be more pleased, especially as Pippin won't be moving into his smial."

They both laughed.

Bilbo paused as he came to one of the rooms. Fili's room and the guest room Thorin was using.

"I'll move my supplies in here," Bilbo said gesturing to the room he hadn't been in since Fili left except to dust it out. "But this one… I'd like to keep it for guests."

Saradoc grinned, elbowing his cousin, "Hoping to get your dwarf to stay?"

"He's not my dwarf," Bilbo said in a low voice, glad Thorin was at his forge.

"But you want him to be."

"Thorin isn't going to stay in the Shire, he has a family in the Blue Mountains. And while he might like faunts just fine, I doubt his family would be willing to leave their mountains."

Saradoc's smile fell, "Is he really your Heartsong though?"

Bilbo flushed, "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Sara, who had once been Fíli's partner in crime, chided, "Uncle Bilbo, we all saw your reaction when he joined his voice to the drinking songs the other night."

Bilbo blushed, "Does it matter if nothing comes of it?"

Saradoc put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder, "Yes, it matters."

Bilbo gave him a said smile, and Sara just wished Fíli was here so they could tease the silly ol' hobbit out of his melancholy.

Esmeralda popped her head around the corner, "Have you seen the way he looks at you? He looked flushed at breakfast, did you two kiss yet?"

Bilbo growled at her, stomping back into his kitchen and reclaiming the stove.

Esmeralda chortled.

oOo

Sonna was not a wealthy dwarrowdam from a good family.

In truth, her family were among the worst sort.

It was rare a mother left her child, but Sonna's had, and if her adad was to be believed, she had left because Sonna was too expensive to cloth and feed.

Sonna privately suspected it was because her father spent money faster than he made. Only, why she had been left behind was a mystery to Sonna and as her father never told her who her mother had been, she had no way to locate her.

Her father Roddu, was a swift fingered, loud-talking gambler with addiction problems and habitual habit of cheating men out of coin.

Basically, every worst stereotype men or elves had about dwarrow, was her father.

Sonna was nothing at all like him, but regrettably, she was young with no reputation of her own to fall back on.

No one was willing to take on an apprentice who wasn't willing to give her family name. It would definitely be worse if she gave her family name, because that was a great way to get a door slammed in her face.

Too young to live on her own, Sonna was getting desperate.

Packing up her things, and stealing the small bit of coin from her father from the night before, she was ready to find a mine to hideaway in, no matter how dangerous.

It would be better than walking on eggshells around her father.

So of course, this was the day her father came home early.

He saw the pack, his meaty hands fisting.

Sonna bolted.

Her father grabbed her sleeve, but she was currently wearing extra layers because they wouldn't fit in her bag.

So she slipped out of it.

It was his warmest coat but she likely wouldn't have been able to sell it because of how worn it was anyway.

Ered Luin was an old colony.

Old and tapped dry. The homes in the mountain were half collapsed and the worst and most densely populated area was at the entrance of the coal mines. Homes that had been dug from soft stone without fireplaces, were lamps always had be guarded with metal and glass.

It was a crime to neglect a flame here.

And it was cold.

Dwarves ran hot, warmer than men or elves, but Sonna felt as if she had been born cold.

Then go back to Erebor, you ungrateful wretch, dragon fire will warm you right up.

Her father's words were almost as vicious as his fists.

Sonna pushed through tight tunnels, allies forming around homes with locked doors.

It was early morning.

Too early for many to be out of bed.

Dwarrowdams were supposed to be valued.

Sonna didn't feel valued as she ran through the dark with no lamp, afraid to call out for help lest it get her caught.

She considered giving herself a black eye and maybe she could go to the authorities and they might believe her.

She couldn't, she wouldn't, strip down to her small clothes to show strange dwarrow her scars.

It was so dark as she got further and further away from her father, in the veins of rough tunnels that webbed between the slums and the New Commons of Ered Luin that she could see past her hand.

Still, she ran.

Her stone sense was not that a miner's, she could no more tell the difference between unpolished topaz and quartz than she could name the fish in the sea, but the stone did still speak to her.

She knew what was soft, meant to hold growing things, what was strong and sturdy meant to shelter, and what was brittle and waiting for transformation.

She let that sense, that music guide her, closing her eyes and trusting in Mahal's gifts to her.

Regrettably, Mahal didn't tell her when there was a person before her and she ran head long into him.

They fell with a grunt. He broke her fall.

It had to be a hey because no dwarrowdam save her was stupid enough to be out alone in the dark.

The lamp the other dwarf had been holding had fallen with a loud clang as it went out.

Sonna covered the dwarf's mouth with a hand as he took breath to ask.

He went immediately still beneath her.

Her heart was pounding as her father bellowed into the tunnels, "Don't you come back! Ye' hear, ye' ungrateful, spoiled wretched child! You don't come back or I'll teach you a lesson you'll never be able to forget!"

Sonna remained still, even as she thought bitterly about how she'd rather starve to death than go back to him.

The dwarf beneath her did not move as he waited for her to get off him.

Sonna pulled her hand back from his mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered, rolling off him.

The other dwarf moved slow as he sat up, "Are you okay?"

Sonna shivered, hugging herself, "I am now."

At least, she was better.

A match was struck and the lamp relit, revealing a dwarf with pointy auburn hair. He gave her an unimpressed look, "I'm taking you to a healer."

She sneered, "For once, I don't need a healer."

He looked her over, "You need a coat. A proper coat."

She shook her head, "I'm not taking yours."

"I didn't offer."

Her shoulders rounded and her anger left her in a rush, taking her courage and direction with it.

"Lucky for you, my brother is a tailor."

"I don't have money–"

He interrupted her, "How old are you?"

"Forty-seven," she muttered

"I just saw you be disowned unless you have an apprenticeship, you just became a ward of the royal family until your kin come to collect you."

"I don't have any kin but that bastard and I would rather die than go back to him."

"I won't force you to, but that means you'll be placed with the kin of Durin. It's a rather large extended family to choose your place among."

Sonna gaped at him.

She was an expert in her people's laws, she had never heard that because, well, dwarrow almost never willingly gave up their family and orphans were unquestionably adopted by kin, only Sonna did have any.

Her mother's line was a mystery and her father had no siblings or cousins.

"Why should I trust you?" She demanded. "Because I am Nori son of Nari, brother-in-law to Prince Thorin Oakenshield."

"Oh," she said lamely. Because really, what were the chances?

He could be lying of course, but invoking kinship directly to the Prince Regent was a crime punishable by death.

"Can we stand up now?" Nori asked.

"What? Um yes?"

Nori sighed, but stood gracefully, offering her a hand up. "Come on, my brother is a tailor."

Sonna took his hand and muttered under her breath, "Stupid rich people."

Nori snorted, "You are going to be disappointed."

"I sincerely doubt it."

Nori stepped aside for her, and though a part of her didn't want him behind.

But a bigger part of her wanted someone between her and her father.

Sonna knew where the rich people lived and didn't need Nori's directions to get there.

"Not that way," Nori said after half an hour of walking.

"Why?"

"Because we live that way."

"Toward the surface?"

"Toward the surface," he agreed.

"Why?"

"You'll see."

And she did.

The door that Nori opened was stone and deceptively simple.

But the minute she walked in, she felt warm.

It was a simple suite, nothing like her father and his friends complained about. The rooms were not gilded in gold nor filled with enough finery to impress the elves.

But the stone walls were clean, hung with colorful tapestries and there were multiple lamps.

No coal ore here.

But the reason she you realised they were close to the surface was the stove. They had their own kitchen.

An older dwarf stood to bow, his hair was silver, as did the younger one after looking up from his book. The dwarf who could be much older than her had auburn hair like Nori.

"Dori, son of Nari at your surface, and my little brother, Ori, son of Nari, Apprentice of Balin, advisor to the King."

Sonna swallowed.

She had lived her life being failed by her society, in not being able to trust anything she was meant to.

Yet here she was, rubbing shoulders with royalty.

Nori laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and she startled.

"Sonna– I'm Sonna, why do you use your mother's name."

The three brothers exchanged looks, but it was Dori who answered, "Because our mother was the one who stayed."

"Mine didn't," she said idiotly.

"Sonna is in her forties and has no kin who can take her in."

Dori set his embroidery aside, "Ori go clear out your room."

"You don't–"

"We do," Dori said shortly. "I'll prepare a bath for you and some new clothes."

"I–"

"Lass, your beard hasn't even begun to grow in yet," Dori said, voice softening. "It is our honour to shelter you."

Sonna was a bit overwhelmed.

"I'll be back in a few hours," Nori said. "Are you alright?"

Sonna nodded.

Nori inclined his head and turned back out the door, shutting it behind him.

Sonna felt like she had entered an alternate reality.

But when she got into a warm bath and was able to wash her hair out, fully clean of dirt and dust and even the oil she scavanged to keep it from damage between washes was…

She could die happy.

Sonna's favourite feature about herself was her hair. It was black. Raven's black, they called it, but –in truth– it was deepest blue with a near irredainst sheen when clean.

When she changed into new clothes her body soothed from aches never listened to, feeling safer than she had ever been, and knowing in her bones that her father could never touch her again, he fell asleep before she could pull back the covers.

She felt so warm.

oOo

Dori came to check on the lass. As gently as he could, he tucked her in. She did not stir.

He pulled her long hair above the covers so she wouldn't get damp in the night. He left a small lamp on so she wouldn't wake unable to see.

Dori set a note to his guild, informing them he would be taking a day for family matter so he could stay home to tend to the child if she needed anything.

How any parent could throw a child behind was abhorrent to him.

oOo

Dwalin answered the door and Nori smiled up at him, a viscious streak to it.

"Hey guard, fine day for an execution, isn't it?

Dwalin raised a brow but once Nori explained himself, Dwalin was ready for blood.

Dís did not take much convincing to sign the arrest warrant.

Dwarrows typically did not need to be reminded to treat their pebbles well, they were after all, the greatest treasures Arda had to offer.

But line of Durin had, historically, never had any reservations about reminding the stupid and malice of their pebbles worth and legal protections.

Dwalin, son of Fundin, was no exception.

oOo

Thorin was a bit confused about how things were changing.

He knew that something was wrong when Merry stayed and his parents returned home, only to return with a cart and pony and another family of hobbits.

Pippin's family, his parents, Paladin and Eglantine Took as well as his – three – older sisters, Pearl, Pimpernel, and Pervinca.

Paladin looked Thorin up and down after introductions, "So this is the one?"

Thorin's heart dropped.

Did hobbits have One's?

The female hobbit gave him a shrewd look, but curtsied while the older hobbit narrowed his eyes and then looked back at Bilbo, expectant.

"Don't give me that face," Bilbo warned. "I know what I'm doing."

Sara's expression was sly as he said, "I suppose dwarves do live longer than hobbits. By the way, Thorin, how old are you?"

Bilbo swatted his cousin over the head, " SARA! Out, go get Sam. Ignore his manners, Thorin."

Esmeralda snorted, "As if he ever had any."

Saradoc kissed his wife on the cheek and left the smial without another word.

Merry giggled, "Are you going to stay, Mister Thorin?"

Realising that he hadn't said anything yet, Thorin cleared his throat, "Just the season, I'm afraid."

Esmeralda's smile slipped, "Do you have a large family at home?"

"Aye," Thorin said, watching Bilbo who looked away. "We were blessed by Mahal, I have two siblings and my sisters have two sons. Several of my cousins also live with us."

"Yet you travel," Paladin asked, though it seemed more a statement.

"Cousin," Bilbo warned. "Don't be rude."

"You're the one who invited us," Paladin said. "Just because Hobbiton doesn't look fondly upon us Tooks–"

Bilbo placed down a plate rather hard, "This is Belladonna Took's smial, and I am Master of Bag End, Thorin is my guest. More than that he is doing a service to the Shire. You. Will. Not. Be. Rude."

Thorin was so lost as to what was going on at this point.

" PIPPIN! " one of the girls yelled, breaking the tension as the meal progressed.

Thorin set aside his own question about hobbits having Ones.

Even if it was true, it would change nothing, with more than Frodo and himself to take care of, Bilbo would not be able to leave home.

Thorin could barely provide for his own family, much less a hobbit family with a half dozen pebbles who could out eat a small army.

As the days before, life passed easily in the Shire. Any threat that worried the hobbits seemed to be abated by Thorin's presence in their markets.

He had missed so many years with Kíli and Fíli that he was glad to spend the season with hobbitlings chasing after him wherever he went.

He never minded the faunts climbing all over him, not even when they tugged on his hair and braids. He took to carrying a wooden pole, intended for holding pails of water, that the faunts would laugh uproarlessly hanging from as Thorin carried the pole and his pack to and fro Bag End.

It was an easy burden, one Thorin was happy to bear.

By the end of the summer, he was the faunts' favourite person and he was dubbed 'the Shire's Dwarf'.

And here Balin said he wasn't good at diplomacy.

oOo

Bilbo jumped out of his skin when he heard a scream. He barely paused to set down his tea, before sprinting to the faunt's room.

The boys and the girls were separated into two rooms, but the boys' room had an extra bed for Sam who often stayed over, his own smial fit to burst with his many siblings and their cousins having moved in from Bree.

Bilbo saw his nephew thrashing in his bed and waved the others to settle as he sat at Frodo's bedside.

"Come, my little one, time to wake," Bilbo coaxed.

Frodo sat up with a choked gasp.

He looked around, the room lit by the open door to the hallway.

His face crumpled when he realised where he was and that everyone staring at him.

"Shhh," Bilbo hushed, brushing away the stray tears, and began saying a blessing Glorfindel and his mother used to say to him in Sindarin.

Frodo clung to him.

Bilbo waved the others back to their beds as he led Frodo out.

Thorin had been hovering by the door, his pipe still in his hand, he shut the door behind Bilbo.

"Thank you," Bilbo said.

"I got him," Thorin said, draping Frodo in a throw blanket as he sat down with him on the sofa.

Bilbo left to go make hot coco.

"I lost my parents too," Thorin said softly as he returned to the pair.

Frodo sniffed, curling into the dwarf's side, "How?"

"My father wandered to far and never returned to us. And I lost my mother to dragon fire."

Bilbo shuddered at the confirmation of where Thorin was from. Though he now had an estimate to how old he was if the dwarf remembered the dragon.

"I'm sorry," Frodo mumbled.

"It was a very long time ago," Thorin said. "And I don't think she would have preferred to leave the mountain."

Bilbo settled himself on Frodo's otherside and welcomed Thorin pulling them both closer to him."

Frodo, the cheeky thing, asked in a truly pitiable voice, "Do dwarrow have many songs?"

Thorin chuckled, "Yes, we have many, many songs."

Frodo hugged the dwarf in a silent plea, and Thorin began to hum.

Bilbo felt as if his heart had been cracked open, a stone cleaved in two.

Thorin began to sing, and Bilbo knew for certain now that this dwarf was his heart song.

"The world was young, the mountains green,

No stain yet on the Moon was seen,

No words were laid on stream or stone

When Durin woke and walked alone.

He named the nameless hills and dells;

He drank from yet untasted wells;

He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,

And saw a crown of stars appear,

As gems upon a silver thread,

Above the shadow of his head.

"The world was fair, the mountains tall,

In Elder Days before the fall

Of mighty kings in Nargothrond

And Gondolin, who now beyond

The Western Seas have passed away:

The world was fair in Durin's Day.

"A king he was on carven throne

In many-pillared halls of stone

With golden roof and silver floor,

And runes of power upon the door.

The light of sun and star and moon

In shining lamps of crystal hewn

Undimmed by cloud or shade of night

There shone for ever fair and bright.

"Unwearied then were Durin's folk;

Beneath the mountains music woke:

The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,

And at the gates the trumpets rang.

"The world was fair in Durin's Day.

Yes, the world was fair in Durin's Day."

Bilbo wished very much in that moment to kiss the dwarf, but settled for soaking in his warmth as Frodo fell asleep between them.

oOo

AN: So I have written the gathering of the company, Rivendell, goblins, the Ring, Mirkwood, and Smaug. These early chapters are kicking my butt though because the characters keep going off script. Are you enjoying them, is there anything more you want to see, pigmy goats, or requests, please?