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Chapter Text

Belladonna had been the moon.

When he had been younger, much younger than he was now, his mother had been the moon. This astral presence that light’s up the night with her comforting white glow and made everything looked so different than they had been in the sun. She had been this wide presence in a much larger sky that no one could look away from because her very presence was hypnotizing making it impossible to ignore her. Where the sun was just a ball of fire in the sky, the moon was a silent guardian; her light making children fell safer, feel like they had their own personal guardian chasing the shadows of the nightmares that would creepy on them at night.

Belladonna had been the moon and Bungo the sun. 

She had been his silent guardian; the one person he always knew would protect him and that he thought he would always have in his life. He still had the moon, but Belladonna was gone. His smiling sweet mother that had often joked that as she was the moon and that his father had been her sun. Bright and happy, always illuminating the life of all the people lucky enough to know him. The two astral forces in his life had been the sun and the moon, his father and his mother… and now they were both gone. 

Looking to the sky, at the moon looming over his head, Bilbo sighed sadly. There truly was no getting use to the silence. For his whole life, as far as he could remember he had lived in a house filled with music and laughter. His father writing his books and taking care of his garden. His mother cooking in the kitchen and painting in the garden with his father. His father had loved walking in the fields of the neighbouring farmer and his mother had loved strolling in the woods at night under the light of the moon. He remember all the little details that had filled his life and that to anyone one else would sound irrelevant, but to him the fact that his mother steps were heavier then his father in the morning, that his father had a beautiful singing voice where his mother was more of an hummer, that she was a wonderful cook but that his father was the better baker, were the most precious of memories.

With each steps he took on the path toward the woods, one more little memory came back, slowing his strides, Bilbo took in all of them, reviving them and letting them wash over him in sad nostalgia. In the middle of all those memories, he looked up to see the figure of a mother cradling her little one in the window of another house and paused. The figure was swaying softly, the baby cradled safely in her arms probably to some song she was singing to her infant. The mother moved closer to the window and her face became clearer, smiling Bilbo waved to her announcing his spying.

She waved back and opened the window so they could look at each other without the glass between them. No obstruction to hide behind if there was anything to hide. They had long since decide not to hide from each other and this was only part of there usual ritual. Bilbo would walk into the woods at night, stopped at the house and if he saw her he would wait so she would know where he was.

Lobelia smiled back to him and nodded, she knew where he would be and might worry, but at least she would know where he was. She had been the only one to reach him after the death of his parents. The only one to not be afraid to yell at him, to force him to eat, to get out of bed in the morning and to force him to live. They were to oddball of the shire and had since embrace that fact.

Where Bilbo was the odd bachelor that still refuse to get married even though he had been raised with a loving family and had a home ready to welcome a family, he still choose his loneliness. He had no interest for a family, not the kind that would be accepted in the Shire at the very least. Lobelia on the other hand had chosen to have a family; only it was a family of two that had most of the population in the Shire frowning in reproach. She had had an affair, something that was already greatly frowned at and when she had become pregnant she had chosen to stay single and raised the baby alone. Many had proposed and all had been turned down. Even when the whole Shire had thought that simply because she had given her attention to Bilbo when he had been lost in darkness she had finally seen reason, Lobelia and Bilbo ignored them all and forged a friendship instead. Two oddballs standing by each other’s side giving support to one another so they could survive the rumours and brave the judging glares. So every night Bilbo took a walk through the woods, he stopped by her house and made sure she knew where he was going and that he would come back so she wouldn’t have to stand-alone.

Lobelia nodded and closed the window going back to swaging her baby. One more step, one more memory as he kept on walking, the past taking hold of him as he left the present behind him. As he reached the woods he found the way he had walked many times with his mother on those full moon nights where she would take him on his walks and show him the woods at night. The flowers that only opened for the moon, the animals that could only been seen at night and the insects that tried to copy the stars with their lights. All of which he still looked for as he turned his back on the lights still visible through the windows of the houses filling the Shire and entered the woods.

The old tree as old as middle earth loomed over the small hobbit as he walked into their shadows, his feet following the well-known path. He passed the patch of little purple flowers that only ever opened from the moon’s light that his mother had once weaved into his hair. He looked on as a mother skunk came out of her hole in the ground followed by her two babies for their night stroll. Looking up Bilbo could see the moon peeking at him between the branches of the trees and smiled at his silent guardian. It might have been because of his mother’s presence on all those nightly strolls but now walking without her he felt like the moon had replaced her and that as long as he saw the astral globe he was safe. He kept on walking letting the sound of the woods at night wash over him bringing back memory of a song hummed to him long ago.

It wasn’t until dark clouds covered the astral globe that Bilbo heard it for the first time. It was a small noise really, nothing but a little cry in the night, but it was there nonetheless. Focusing on the sound Bilbo turned his attention to it and heard much more. He could hear fighting, he could hear dark laughter and once again that soft cry that had been the first sound to get his attention. Bilbo knew he should turn back, those were not noise he was used to, not noise any well behave hobbit would have investigated. It was so sad that he wasn’t a well behave hobbit.

Looking up the only thing that made him pause was the fact that dark clouds hid the moon, his guardian was absent. Hearing the cry he looked towards the sound and realized he would have to leave the path he was used to following to its source. His mother had always told him to stay on the path, the path was safe. The cry resounded in the night once again and his feet left the path without hesitation. Walking over roots, letting the leaf caress his feet so they wouldn’t crush under his steps and alert whoever was fighting and paying attention to the wild life that was running away from the noise, Bilbo moved on. The sound became louder and louder and his stepped faltered as the sound of fighting, sword hitting sword stopped with a cry of pain. For a moment there was only silence, heavy and filled with the knowledge that a being had lost his life.

Curiosity, curiosity had Bilbo moving again hugging the shadow closer not wanting to be seen and crouching low as he moved forward. The cloud over his head continued on their path through the sky and the moon came back over his head giving him more courage. Soon he saw life, not too far from him and crouched even lower. He knew those life forms from the books in his fathers study, he had read about them and they had filled his nightmares when he had learned that the creature were real.

Orcs.

Hiding in the shadow of the nearest tree Bilbo took in the scene before his eyes. In a little clearing stood three orcs, two of their comrade laid dead on the ground one of them without his head. Close by three horses were stomping the ground one of them bleeding from the wound as they moved in panic away from the creatures trying to grab them to stop them from escaping. The horse riders were on the ground, two of which were clearly fighters; probably a knight judging from their golden armour, but what caught his attention was the head of the fallen soldier who had lost his helmet, more importantly his ears. The tip of the fallen being ears were pointy, more elegant and fragile looking than a hobbit’s pointy ears, but still very easily identifiable. The fallen knights were elves, another species from middle earth that Bilbo had only ever read about in his father’s books. They were suppose to be elegant creature, immortals that filled their life with the knowledge it would take many life times for a hobbit to collect and so graceful only the act of walking looked like dancing. To busy with the horses the orcs didn’t seemed to be able to hear the cries but Bilbo had no idea how long it would be before the creature turned their attention toward the sound and the hobbit hiding spot.

He heard the cry, the cry that had caught his attention in the first place and looked away from the blood and carnage to see the third elf lying with her back to a tree not far from Bilbo. She wasn’t only an elf, she was a lady, and her face seemed to attract the ray of the moon not allowing any shadow to obscure it. Her long blond hair, so light they almost looked white, fell over her shoulder and to the ground looking like a river of pearls. She was one of the most beautiful being Bilbo had ever seen, even with the dark stains of blood obscuring her beautifully woven dress and life slowly leaving her. Bilbo was so caught up in his observation of the lady that it took him a moment to realise that two clear blue eyes had found his hiding spot and where studying him just as he was studying their owner. Their eyes meet, her clear blues filled with silent tears as her pink lips opened on silent words that never breach the barrier of her teeth. With a defeated sigh her eyes drifted to the bumble of cloth at her side and back to him pleading.

Bilbo looked to the bumble and back at her in a silent question, but she shook her head pleading and begging for him to take it. Shooting a quick look in the orcs direction he saw that they were still busy with the horses still not paying attention to the still alive lady elf close by, but it was only a matter of time before they did pay attention and if they did they would also notice him. Looking at the tears filled blue eyes Bilbo made his decision and stepping quickly into the light of the moon, he grabbed the bumble and stepped back into the shadows clutching it to his chest his heart pounding in fear that he had been sighted. Chancing a peek at the orcs he saw them talking to each other laughing over the corpse of the fallen elf knights and sighed in relief. When he looked back at the lady, her eyes were closed and a small grateful smile was the last expression that would ever grace her face.

A tear rolled on the hobbit’s cheek at the loss of such a beautiful being and he turned away. He couldn’t save any of them; he couldn’t be their hero as there was nothing left to save, but he also couldn’t stay there and take the risk of being discover. If he was discovered the chance of placing all those hobbit families back in the Shire at the mercy of those orcs was not something he could ever live with. So he walked deeper and deeper into the woods until his feet found the familiar patht they had followed all their life back to the Shire. The bumble was clutched against his rapidly beating heart, his breath coming in short bursts as he felt fear finally settle into his heart.

He didn’t see anything around him, didn’t saw Lobelia’s house still filled with light as he rushed past it, didn’t see any of his neighbors house as he ran past them and didn’t even feel the wood of his door as he pushed it opened. Catching his breath, trying to calm his breath, Bilbo’s back hit the door as it closed behind him and he crumpled to the floor his legs barely able to hold him up. His heart was wild, feeling like it was trying to escape from his chest as he heard the small cry that had started this whole adventure coming from the bumble in his arms.

Ever so slowly Bilbo pulled the soft cloth that made the bumble aside laying it on his legs as he unwrapped it. The cry resonated in his ears once again as a small face appeared before his eyes. A small face with small pointy ear, soft so white blond hair covering the small head and huge liquid blue eyes now filled with life that were staring back at him.

Chapter Text

How could such big liquid blue eyes belong on such a small body?

As Bilbo unwrapped the baby elf from the heavy cloths he found two small fists, so tiny they could barely form around one of his fingers. The baby’s skin was a creamy white almost translucent as he could see the red and blue blood flowing all around inside the small body in his arms. The little creature only clothing was a diaper made of a soft brown leaf from a plant the hobbit knew nothing about and a small silver chain horned with a white pearl. The little elf’s toes curled as Bilbo took them in his hand unable to believe how fragile the baby looked. It was like holding a doll made of of fragile porcelain with a clear sky trapped in its eyes.

All through the examination the baby made no sound, his gaze following Bilbo’s movements, calm and focus. He could see intelligence in those huge eyes taking everything in but too young still to be able to communicate his thoughts. Caressing the soft blond white hair covering the baby’s head, Bilbo finally felt his heart calm down. He had no idea what to do now. No idea what to do with the little creature observing him like the hobbit was his whole universe. It was disconcerting to say the least. Well he did know one person with a child that could help him, she might yell at him, but who else could he turned to at such a late hour?

Carefully Bilbo wrapped the little elf back in the cloth noticing for the first time the black lettering that had been sown around and embroiled green leaf. Caressing the embroidery work that must have been made by the lady he had seen in the woods tears filled his eyes and he clutched the baby to his chest. He at least remembered his parents, but this little one would never have any memories of the person who had given life to him. How was that fair?

Whipping away his tears, Bilbo took a deep breath calming himself and opened the door stepping back into the night. As he started walking on the path his eyes drifted to the sky, the moon still there watching over him as she did every night. His silent guardian who had always been there for him, but that he felt had failed this baby in his arms this night. Or maybe she hadn’t as he shuddered at the fate the little one would have encounter if Bilbo hadn’t happen to pass by and hear the baby’s cries. What would the orcs have done with the tiny creature then? Caressing the little head tucked against his neck Bilbo chased the thought away and walked faster towards his goal. The baby was safe, the baby was alive and that was all that would count for now on.

Arriving before the door Bilbo knocked quietly knowing it would only be worse for him if the little occupant of the house also awaked. As nothing moved inside the house and no light were lighted on, the hobbit closed his eyes and knocked louder praying silently that only one of the occupant in the house would awaken. When still nothing moved he sighed and slammed his first into the wood. Bilbo jumped back with a flinch when a loud wailing sound reached his hears and knew he was in trouble. As expected he heard swearing and the fire was revived in a hurry. He heard very angry foot steps coming his way and almost ran away like a youngling playing a prank, but the soft body in his arms kept him rooted to the spot when the door flew opened and a very angry looking Lobelia appeared.

“BILBO BAGGINS! What is wrong with the tiny thing that you call a brain that would suggest a visit at the time when even… what’s that?” Bilbo had just opened his mouth ready to placate the angry mother when she stopped on her own and pointed toward his neck. Even Lotho, Lobelia son’s stopped his wailing as her mother tones calmed down and the three hobbits stared at each other. “Bilbo Baggins did you steal a baby?”

“NO!... How did you even jumped to that conclusion, no. Lobelia please may I come in?” She was still staring at the baby in his arms but moved away silently inviting him in. Bilbo walked into the parlour taking a chair before the dying fire in the chimney and unwrapped the baby from the waist up so he wouldn’t be too warm. He heard the door close and Lobelia moved behind him going somewhere else. When she came back to seat next to him, Lotho was being feed a bottle in her arms and all her attention was on Bilbo.

“Bilbo what happen?” She knew him; they knew each other well enough to know that they only ever needed each other in case of crisis or if they ever got lonely. They could go weeks without seeing each other or talking and then just visit the other because they needed company. The company was usually followed by insults and yelling but that was what worked for them. But in moments like these, like when Bilbo had been crushed by his parent’s death and had needed a shoulder to cry on he had found Lobelia to be the calm in the storm. Same when she had to announce her pregnancy and told her whole family that she wouldn’t tell them who the father was and that she wouldn’t marry. She had found shelter at Bilbo’s house when no one had wanted to speak to her, shaming her for her disgrace and choices. In the worst of times they were allies and friends and in the best of times they were enemies and family. So he told her everything, in a tired voice from his walk in the woods to the terrifying scene he had witnessed, to the placement of guardianship of the little elf. They stayed silent after that, watching the last of the flame die and Lotho’s soft snoring filled the silence since he had fallen back asleep at the tone of his uncle soft voice.

Lobelia was the first to move, approaching Bilbo she carefully reached for the baby’s head, she was used to hobbit babies, strong and sturdy, not this fragile looking elf baby. The moment her skin came in contact with the little one cheek, the baby made a sound of pure pain and his eyes turned pitch black for a split moment. She jumped back startled and Bilbo cradled the baby closer shushing him expecting him to start walling like Lotho had for being woken up. But nothing came. Only silence and when Bilbo looked at the little elf, his eyes were back to liquid blue still staring right at Bilbo like he was the only important thing in the little ones world. When he looked back toward Lobelia her mouth was pulled down in worry and she was cradling her son to her chest.

“We need help. I know what to do with a hobbit baby, but an elf… Bilbo they’re immortal or as close as one can be. How can a hobbit raise an elf?” She turned her back on him and walked out of the room shaking her head. She did have a point; no hobbit in the history of the Shire had ever raised a baby from another species and an elf of all things. Maybe he could find a way to contact the closest elf settlement from the Shire and get them to take in the little one… they would probably do a much better job at it then a hobbit could, that was for sure. Lobelia came back with a sleeping Lotho strapped to her back and her walking stick. “Well what are you waiting for? Come on.”

“Lobelia where are we going?” She looked at him like he was the stupidest hobbit she had ever meet and sighed.

“To see the only hobbit in the whole Shire who might be able to help this child of course.” As Bilbo just kept on staring at her, Lobelia fists came to rest on her hips and she glared at him. ”Wiseman Gamwich!”

Bilbo eyes went wide. Of course! The wisest and craziest hobbit in whole Shire. Rewrapping the baby he jumped to his feet and follow Lobelia back into the night. Wiseman Gamwich was one of the only hobbit to have travelled outside of the Shire, lived with men and elf alike and actually came back. He was consider crazy by many for having left the Shire in the first place, staying a bachelor for his whole life, although some rumours speculated that he had a romance with an elf maiden that had ended for some reason unknown to all. He lived in a house just a little outside of the Shire not really one to mingle, but was known to always welcome young hobbits who wanted to hear his stories. As they approached the house they saw a red glow in the night. Wiseman Gamwich was sitting on the stairs in front of his house smoking the pipe and looking at the stars. As they came closer his gaze fell on them and he took in another puff of his pipe staying silent.

“Old Gamwich.” Lobelia inclined her head in greeting showing more respect to the hobbit must consider crazy than to the rest of the Shire who had shunned her for raising her son alone.

“Two Baggins on my front step this late at night, the stars are playing a trick on my eyes or my tobacco is much stronger than I thought.” The little elf in Bilbo’s arm moved and the cloth that had been hiding his face fell revealing his ears to Wiseman. The old hobbit placed his pipe to the side and leaned forward his eyes turning hard and serious. ”Young Baggins have you robbed the elf of their treasure?”

“No! Of course not I…” The old Gamwich raised his hand and moved to his feet. With a stiff movement of his hand he invited them both to follow him inside. No one ever stepped foot in Wiseman Gamwich’s house, not a soul. As they enter they were ushered into a room that could have been a kitchen if not for all the plants growing everywhere on the walls and floor. With a huff the old hobbit pushed aside some old looking books that had been covering a bench and silently pointed them to sit on it. Lobelia and him took the seat as the old hobbit pulled ingredient from his shelves and collected some fruits from the plants on his walls.

“A hobbit cannot simply find a baby elf, tell me what happen. All the details young Baggins do not skip any of them.” For the second time in the night Bilbo told the tale, but this time taking great care not to forget any details. Wiseman Gamwich listened to it all as he kept mixing the ingredient he had collected and hummed along to certain part of Bilbo’s story nodding. “He shouldn’t be alive.”

“What?” Bilbo was cradling the baby protectively against his chest feeling the little one’s breath caress his neck as his delicate head was tucked against the hobbit’s neck. The little elf was most definitely alive. The old hobbit turned around and held up a cup to Bilbo waiting until he was holding it before crossings his arms and looking at the pair the hobbit and the elf made.

“Did anything happen when you touched him for the first time?” Bilbo shook his head and Lobelia told the old hobbit what had happen when she had touched the baby. The crease of worry that appeared on the old hobbit face were not a good sign in Bilbo’s book. “I do not know if a hobbit will even be able to sustain an elf.”

“What do you mean sustain? I can feed him, I can take care of him until I find other elves to care for…”

“No! Never let anyone else touch this child. Never!” Bilbo jumped back in surprise at the fear in the old hobbit’s eyes at the mere mention of giving the baby away.

“But he’s not mine, I can’t raise him… he’s an elf, I don’t know anything about elves!”

“Oh young Baggins so much to learn, you have so much to learn. “ Wiseman Gamwich pulled a stool and sat. He seemed to be searching his memories for a moment before he sighed and started talking. “Elf younglings are never seen until they can walk. It is the parents that are charged with the protection of their child until they can live on their own. I have only ever seen one baby elf and he was weeks older than your little one, it was an accident as I came upon the mother. But no outsiders are usually allowed to see the babies, even the elves consisting of their tribe. The little ones never leave their parents, as they are to conduct between the earth magic and their offspring’s. “

“What do you mean conduct?” Lobelia asked just as confused as Bilbo was.

“Elves only live as long as they do because the earth gives them the right to do so by sharing her magic with the elves. The parents are the conduct between the earth and the baby, so as to not overwhelm the new life. It would be too much for such a little being to be filled all at once with the very source of their old age. It would kill the child in a mere moment. One child born of two parents, one recipient for two conducts.”

“But I’m not an elf, I can’t do that!” The old hobbit smiled and nodded toward the little elf.

“But you are! For some reason you are or that child wouldn’t be breathing. His other parent might not have been present at his birth or the mother might have been on her way back to the father, but this child definitely didn’t have his second conduct or he wouldn’t have survived the death of his mother and bonded to you.” Before Bilbo could ask anything Wiseman nodded to the cup in his hand. Not really sure what else to do Bilbo took a sip and finding the liquid sweet finished it quickly finding himself famish. “As the only conduct for this baby you will have to stay strong. No one will be able to share the burden of caring for this young one with you. It is rare that an elf can be raised by only one parent, but war have happened and single parents have survived the death of their spouse to raise their little ones so why not a hobbit?”

“Because I can’t! I don’t know a single thing about raising a baby. Especially a baby I’m the only one allowed to touch. What am I to feed him? “

“Nothing, that’s the whole point young Baggins, if this child makes it to solid food then he’ll have survived long enough not to need your touch anymore.” The old hobbit pointed to Lobelia. “The Baggins lass didn’t know how to raise her child either and yet her little one seems happy enough.”

Bilbo looked to Lotho sleeping peacefully against Lobelia’s back and sigh. To his surprise she took his hand and squeezed meeting his eyes. She would be there for him, just like he had been there for her. They had said that Lobelia would always be Lotho’s mother and that Bilbo would always be Lotho’s uncle, she was now returning the favour.

“What if I was able to contact some elves? Returned the baby to his own specie when he’s old enough not to need me as his conduct?” The old hobbit nodded slowly but his expression was unsure.

“I don’t know what bond a hobbit and an elf will form, he might need you even when he’s older. Elf younglings form very strong bonds with their parents that are still a mystery to me. Maybe he’ll be able to live without you or the elves will have to take you with them if they decide to take the child. Only time will tell really.” Lobelia tensed up at the mention of Bilbo being taken away and she looked at him sharply. Caressing the back of her hand he shook his head, she was his only friend, he wouldn’t simply leave her behind.

“Thank you Old Gamwich.” The old hobbit nodded and was already standing up to walk them to the door when he stopped abruptly.

“Elves don’t have many children, one blessed enough to have a descendant consider the blessing greater than any treasure on middle earth. Never forget this young Baggins.” Bilbo nodded and as he replaced the baby in his arms to stand up, his fingers brushed the embroidery on the cloth and he stopped.

“Do you know what that means?” Wiseman Gamwich came closer to look at the embroidery, his hands behind his back careful not to touch the little elf as he mumbled words under his breath.

“Green leaves if I’m not mistaken, in elvish they pronounce it Legolas.” Liquid blue eyes turned to the old hobbit at the mention of the word. With a nod of thanks Bilbo and Lobelia walked out of the house and into the night for what he hope would be the last time. Bilbo had enough adventure for the night and felt exhausted.

He easily fell into steps with Lobelia who seemed lost in her thoughts and as they reached her house, she turned to him with a serious expression. “Don’t think it’s gonna be a walk in the woods. Its hard work, very hard work.”

“Yes Lobelia, I know.”

“No you really don’t, but you will and when you do… come and see me for help.” Laughing Bilbo gave her a one armed hug keeping the little elf well away from her body and stayed before Lobelia’s house until she had closed her door.

When he entered back into his own house Bilbo unwrapped the baby and cradling him in his arms placed him in the middle of his bed before crawling in next to the little being. Big liquid blue eyes stared at him, until his long white eyelashes seemed too heavy for him to keep them open and fell asleep for the first time in the night. Keeping a hand on the baby’s tummy Bilbo stared for a long time at the little one.

He had never thought he would ever have a family. Since his taste had never directed him toward a possible wife, he had vowed not to make some poor lass’ life miserable by marrying a hobbit who could never truly give her what she needed and had resigned himself to being a bachelor for the rest of his life. But here was a little one that needed him to be his family, his source or life, his protector and… his parent.

Pressing a kiss to the little elf head Bilbo closed his eyes. “Goodnight Legolas.”

Chapter Text

“Legolas that’s not a very hobbitty name.”

Bilbo opened his eyes and turned his head to the side looking at Lobelia who was weeding her garden. Next to her Lotho was playing in the grass flipping from his back to his stomach with happy little gurgled sounds once in a while reaching for his wooden toys to munch on them. The hobbit was laying on his back on a blanket, the little elf resting in the croak of his arm, his tiny feet resting on his palm. Legolas was looking up at the blue sky above them his little hands closing and opening like he wanted to catch the few stray clouds that floated once in a while over their heads.

“I knew you had been too quiet and of all the things to start complaining about you had to go for his name? Really now Lobelia?”

“Well he IS going to be raised by a hobbit so why not give him a hobbit name hum?” Bilbo sighed and closed his eyes, she only wanted someone to talk to and Lobelia Baggins type of talking was complaining. “And you COULD land a hand!”

Of course she knew perfectly well that he couldn’t, but well, Bilbo wasn’t one to deprive Lobelia of her few pleasure in life. The last few days had been hard. Bilbo might not be able to feel the energy and magic of the earth going through him to reach the little elf, but he sure felt the aftermath of it.

The first day had been fine, the hobbit only feeling slightly more tired than usual, but nothing to be worried about. It wasn’t until the next morning when he had tried to get out of bed that he had felt like the whole of middle earth was resting on his shoulder. His feet had felt heavy, every step was a challenge and he hadn’t made it farther than sitting next to his bed with the baby cradled in his arms. Luckily and blissfully Lobelia had appeared before the sun had been too high in the sky worried about him. With much effort, pulling and pushing they had been able to get Bilbo into his chair in his parlour. Worried Lobelia had brought him enough food to feed a hobbit family of five before he could even think of trying to walk again. This time it had been Wiseman Gamwich who had made a home visit worried about the young Baggins and his health.

As it turned out being the conduct to a baby elf meant that most of Bilbo’s own energy was also pooled into the baby leaving him completely exhausted and needing lots of food and sleep. The old hobbit had given him a list of recipe for concoction that would give Bilbo energy and the vitamins that he would need to withstand the siphoning of his energy. He had also been instructed to spend as much time as possible outside, as being closer to the earth would make to process easier.  

“This is a lovely day isn’t it?” He could hear the eye roll Lobelia gave him without needing to see it.

“Yes, yes ever so lovely. But really now, why not a hobbit name?” With a sigh Bilbo looked at the little elf catching one of the tiny hands and caressing the wiggling fingers with a smile.

“It’s the only heritage he has from his mother, I wouldn’t deprive him of it.” Lobelia gave him a look and he smiled at her. “Yes, even if it’s not very hobbitty.”

Bilbo looked at Lotho when the baby rolled around on his stomach once again grabbing a toy with a victorious gurgle. It was fascinating to see the difference between the baby elf and baby hobbit. Lotho was of course older making him look so much more massive than Legolas. But there was also the fact that where the little elf skin stayed milky white after a day in the sun, Lotho skin had turned a healthy shade of milky chocolate brown. Where most hobbit children had curly hair and earth colored eyes, the elf had straight soft white blond hair and liquid blue eyes that seemed very sharp for such a young being. But more importantly where the sounds, everyone around the baby knew when Lotho was happy, hungry, sad or angry by the sounds he made. But Legolas was a silent, very silent baby. It was impossible to know anything about his moods apart from the fact that he was curious and alive.

Stretching Bilbo sat up crossing his legs and place Legolas on his lap. Without a word Lobelia stopped her weeding and moved to fill a cup with one of Wiseman Gamwich recommended concoction and gave it to Bilbo. Drinking the liquid hungrily feeling some of his energy coming back to him, Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief. Wrapping Legolas to his chest with a blanket like Lobelia had showed him to do, Bilbo tested his strength and happily found that he could stand. Stretching his legs Bilbo looked at Lobelia with a smile.

“I’ll go take a walk, care to join me?”

“No, we can’t all laze around all day. I have to go to the market, most of what I’ll get being for YOU of course.” Laughing Bilbo leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Do you wish for me to take Lotho for the rest of the day?” It would be hard and he would have to be careful not to let the two children touch, since he never wanted to see the little elf eyes turn black ever again, but he could do it if necessary. Lobelia looked at him with a very unimpressed look on her face.

“You and what army? No thank you, my mother will take Lotho while I go to the market.” That was a surprise since Lobelia’s family hadn’t talked to her since her decision not to marry and raised her child alone.

“Oh?” Lobelia hummed nodding.

“I’ll have to accept a very long and eloquent speech about the merit of a husband, but since she does want to know her grandchild, she will then spoil him rotten the moment my back his turned.”

“Like any good grandmother.”

“Or any good witch.” The Baggins family being known for their strong argumentative women, Bilbo didn’t raised to the bait of more argument and made his way back to his house enjoying the fresh air and the sun.

“Come by the house tonight I’ll make your favourite!” Lobelia didn’t even looked back waving him off. Bilbo did see other hobbits out and about murmuring amongst themselves as they subtly pointed to him and the baby elf, but he simply kept on walking. It hadn’t taken long for most of the Shire to spread the news that Bilbo now had a child under his care, but so far he had been left alone and was only pointed at. It would probably change once Legolas grew up, but for now whisper and rumours seemed to sustain the population of the Shire. He was also pretty sure the old Gamwich had warned people away from him and when one of the oldest hobbit in the Shire said something most of the Shire had to respect theirs wishes.  

+++

When Lobelia was finally able to get away from her nagging mother, she hoisted her empty basket to her shoulder and started walking down that path. It wouldn’t take her to long to get to the market and according to her calculation she would be back before the sun would set. She smiled to herself, had the thought of her meal with Bilbo scheduled for that night and started walking a little faster not wanting to waste time.

The market was an open space shared by both hobbits from the Shire and humans from a villages close by. The villagers mostly sold fishes from the Branoywine River and wool from the sheep the human framers raised. The hobbits for their part sold fruits and vegetables grown in their fields, hale made by old master hobbits and more importantly tobacco. It was a good deal for both party and the market also added nice inns for travelers and on special occasions both humans and hobbits had grand celebration with music and games.

It was a nice day and the market was filled with all kinds as Lobelia made her way to her favourite fish vender. As she walked along the dirt road, pushing away a few long legs as they had the misfortune to block her path some of them getting pinched other getting slapped away. She had no patience for humans on most occasion, as they thought that just because they were taller they could ignore the smaller hobbits. Blissfully most humans in the market knew better and walked with their eyes to the ground making sure not to block the way or step on any hobbits.

As she had almost reach the fish stall, Lobelia spotted something that she had never seen in the market before, elves. Stopping she took her time looking at them. There were four of them that she could see, all dress in quite nice clothes that made them stand out and talking to anyone that crossed their path. They mostly seemed interested in talking to humans, ignoring the few hobbits around and seemed a tad… desperate. As more and more humans shook their head after being asked question by the elves, Lobelia resumes her walking keeping a quiet eye on the tall newcomers. As soon as she reached the fish stall, she jumped on a nearby crate especially placed there for hobbits customer and greeted the round woman selling the fishes.

“Randa, nice day to you.” The round woman finished her business with her previous customer and turned to Lobelia with a smile, having recognized her voice.

“Lobelia Baggins! Last time I saw you, you were round with child! How is the little one?”

“He was a kicking pain inside me and a crying pain outside, aside from that he’s lovely.” The fisherman’s wife laughed, herself a mother of four. As there was no other customers Lobelia pointed to the elven men with a raised eyebrow in enquiry. “Those are not your usual customers.”

“Ah! Those ones been there all day asking the same questions to everyone.” Lobelia made an interested sound making her eyes go wide like she was impress with of the woman’s knowledge, the hobbit lass simply wanted to push the woman to talk more. “All asking about a convoy of elf that was supposed to stop at an inn close by nights ago. But they never showed up and now those ones have been questioning everyone to try and locate them. If you ask me they’re not looking for just anyone, one of them mention something about a LADY.”

“Oh really! Well isn’t that something else.” They talked some more but Lobelia had all that she wanted and soon bought her fish before leaving the stall. She took her time finishing all her purchases always keeping an eye on the well dressed elf. Lobelia did saw them stop some hobbits but most of them were farmers that lived on the outskirt of the Shire and wouldn’t know anything about Bilbo or the baby. Once she was done, the hobbit lass took the path back to the Shire almost scared that it would be the elves next stop. She knew in her heart that if it came to it and the elf really were looking for the lady elf Bilbo had meet in the woods, then they would also be looking for the baby.

She knew that Bilbo would do the right thing if they ever came. He would follow them wherever they would want to take him thinking only of what would be good for the baby. He would definitely leave the Shire, he had no family to hold him back, he had nothing. But he was everything to her, her only friend, the only person willing to stand by her side even with her difficult personality. She still remembered standing by his side heavy with child as they had buried Bilbo’s parent holding his trembling hand. She had braved the heavy stares levelled at her to be by his side because when everyone else had fled her side after her decision to do it all on her own, he hadn’t. Bilbo had looked at her, looked at her belly and smiled.

“Who needs a father when Lobelia Baggins is your mother?” Those words had made her stronger and even though she had never thanked him she had proven that she could be as good a friend as he had been. But she wasn’t sure if she could still do it without Bilbo by her side. Yes, she had her son, her family was coming around to be allowed to know Lotho, but they were mostly there for the baby, not for her.

Lost in her thought she realized she was standing in front of Bilbo’s house and walked up to his door. She would do the right thing and inform the hobbit of the elves asking question in the market. Lobelia knew in her heart that he would do the right thing and returned the baby to them, having to follow them in the process but it wasn’t her decision to make. She knocked on the door in warning before entering and made her way to the kitchen to put away the food she had bought for Bilbo. As she was placing everything in the pantry still not having seen Bilbo, she sighed sadly thinking of the conversation she would need to have soon.

“Lobelia!” Dropping everything she ran at the sound of her name being shouted. She came crashing into Bilbo’s room finding him sitting on his bed and smiling like a loon. “Lobelia he’s smiling! My son his smiling!”

“And you called me like a derange…” Lobelia stopped. In all this time not once had Bilbo called the baby elf his son. But there it was in the way he seemed so happy, holding the babe in his arms like he was the most precious being ever created and Lobelia saw it. The very same look she had when she was looking at her son, the look of love of a parent. Legolas was Bilbo’s son, there was no doubt anymore about it, the hobbit had officially accepted his role as father.

“Lobelia? Is everything alright?” He was frowning at her looking worried and… she couldn’t. She couldn’t lose him, but more importantly, just like she couldn’t leave her own son, she couldn’t ask Bilbo to make that decision. Because she knew that the moment Legolas didn’t need Bilbo as his conduct, the elf would get rid of the hobbit. They would never let a hobbit raise an elven child, so they would take him away. Hadn’t Bilbo lost enough already?

“Lobelia did something happen at the market?”

“No, of course not, what would ever happen in that boring place. I’m just a little tired nothing to worry your empty head about.” Bilbo rolled his eyes and moved to his feet, his son on his hip. He kissed her check in passing.

“Go get your son and I’ll start on the meal, your favourite!” She followed him looking on impressed as he easily wrapped Legolas to his chest and started pulling ingredient to start his meal and smiled. Lobelia turned away from the domestic scene and walked out of the house to collect her own son.

She might one day regret her decision, she might not. But Bilbo had found himself a new family that brought a smile back to his face and he should be able to keep it. That night around the table eating food prepared by Bilbo and looking on as he talked to both her and his son, Lobelia still couldn’t feel regret.

Chapter Text

Bilbo woke up slowly, wiggling as he felt a jolt of pain in his neck from the awkward angle he had fallen asleep in. He winced as he heard the book he had been reading out loud to Legolas fell to the ground with a sharp sound and sighed looking out the window. His son was still soundly asleep lying on his belly, Bilbo was going to caress the pointy ears as his eyes wandered over the few trees he could see from his reclined position. All the leaves were slowly turning yellow, red, and orange as the weather had slowly started to drop with the autumn leaves.

“Well Legolas, soon you’ll be the only green leaf left in the Shire.” Of course the tiny elf didn’t answer still soundly asleep, but Bilbo smiled to himself enjoying this moment of peace. As time passed it seemed that the little pointy eared creature hadn’t even grown an inch, his hair however was growing at an alarming rate. It had come to that Bilbo now either braided the soft blond hair or, if he was lazy that day, tied it up into a bun on top of the baby’s head. Today his son had two long braids that had been tied over his head making it look like he had a crown.

Trying to pull himself upright, Bilbo sighed as all his strength left him at the first try and he had to lay back down as dark spots started to dance before his eyes. Moving even his little finger was exhausting; the hobbit spotted the clock and sighed in relief knowing Lobelia would soon be visiting to check in on him. The lady hobbit had set times, mostly in between meals where, if free she would drop by, making sure Bilbo wasn’t as he was now; stuck somewhere with the baby incapable of moving. As if his thoughts of Lobelia conjured the hobbit, he heard his door being opened and the steps cadence he now associated with Lobelia. It was a heavy set of steps, her feet hitting the floor with force like it had personally offended her and always sounded hurried like she had no time to spare for anyone and always had somewhere else to go. To Bilbo it was a very comforting and familiar sound.

“BILBO!”

“In the foyer.” She soon appeared, her arms filled with bags and Lotho strapped to her chest. Depositing all of her many bags to the floor and unstrapping Lotho, who started crawling all over the floor as soon as he touched it, Lobelia came over frowning down at him.  Taking care not to touch the tiny elf, she helped him sit up and went to get him some food and a vitamin filled drink to get Bilbo’s energy back up.

Bilbo was just finishing his drink and sandwich when Lobelia’s father came in carrying a baby bed. The big hobbit, and really there had been some rumors in the Shire that there was a drop of dwarf blood in his side of the family, something that most believed as the hobbit was larger and taller than a regular hobbit.  The big hobbit nodded to Bilbo and went on his way, easily stepping over his crawling grandson not even looking down once. Bilbo was still staring after the large hobbit when he came back, reached down to ruffle Lotho’s hair and walked right back out without a word.

“Lobelia?” The hobbit lass appeared looking at him like she had better things to do and he was bothering her. “What’s going on?”

Bilbo pointed to all the bags still on the floor. ”Oh that! I’m moving in.”

“… what?” With a long suffering sigh Lobelia pinched the bridge of her nose.

“As you MUST have notice by now, winter is well on its way.” Bilbo nodded still not following where this was going. “Preserve me from the stupidity of Baggins’ men! Bilbo you can barely move on your own, your son cannot be touched by anyone but you, what will happen if a snowstorm prevents me from reaching you in time to help you?”

“Oh!” It did make quite a bit of sense when presented like that. It would indeed be a disaster if Bilbo was to find himself stuck without any energy to move at a moment when Lobelia couldn’t reach him in time to help.

“So I’ll be moving into your old room, it’s really not that hard of a concept to grasp.”

“What about your house?” Lobelia pulled a face of disgust and Bilbo knew the answer would be related to her mother.

“She will be moving into my house for the winter and before you ask, my father will be staying in the family house alone.” At Bilbo raised eyebrows Lobelia shrugged helplessly. “She wanted to; she say’s my father’s constant chatter is driving her insane.”

Bilbo gave her a long look. He had never heard Lobelia’s father speak once in his entire life, most hobbits in the Shire thought he was a mute. Lobelia rolled her eyes, also seeing how ridiculous her mother sounded with that kind of explanation and went back to unpacking her bags into his old room. Feeling something touch his feet Bilbo looked down to see Lotho sitting between his feet looking up at Legolas curiously.  Looking at his son, the hobbit found large blue eyes looking down at the baby hobbit with curiosity.

“Hi Lotho.” The little chubby hobbit baby’s eyes crinkled in laughter and he leaned back against Bilbo’s legs munching his fist happily. It was interesting to see how small Legolas was compare to the baby hobbit. Where the little elf was all skin and bones, with ridiculously long hair, the baby hobbit was all fat and unruly brown curls.

Feeling more energized Bilbo wiggled and tested his lower limbs, careful not to topple the little one at his feet and heard childish laughter as Lotho rolled back to his hands and knees going back to his exploration of Bilbo’s home. Legolas’ gaze followed the little hobbit search curiously and a tiny frown appeared on his face.

“When you’re older you’ll be allowed to wander just like that.” His son’s eyes moved back to him at the sound of Bilbo’s voice turning adoring. Kissing the top of the golden head, he moved along looking for Lobelia. “But you can stay small as long as you need sweetie; you’re adorable like this anyway.”

“Are you talking to me?”

“No I’m talking to my so… son.” Bilbo entered his old room to find chaos, clothes everywhere, baby toys littering the floor and all the furniture pushed in different corners of the room. Lobelia turned around looking at him and then at the chaos and shrugged.

“Just give me a moment and I’ll have everything in order. Why don’t you go play with the kids while I settle in?” Nodding in silence Bilbo turned around and sat on the living room floor with Lotho.

The hobbit baby watched on curiously as Bilbo placed Legolas on his lap so he was facing the other little one. With a questioning look to him, Lotho slowly reached towards the little elf his gaze rapidly going from Bilbo to his son.

“No, no, no Lotho.” The baby hobbit froze retracting his hand and then reached out slowly again. “No, no, no Lotho.”

The curly haired baby retracted his hand and with a mischievous smile and reached forward once again. But this time before Bilbo could say anything the baby shook his head in a silent “no, no, no” and started laughing. Lotho continued on, never touching the baby elf and always laughing when Bilbo started to play along. Looking down he could see Legolas smiling at the little antics, his wide curious eyes watching everything happily. It was to this scene that Lobelia entered the room leaning against the wall as she watched with a smile.

“He likes you two, that’s rare.” Sure that Lotho wouldn’t actually touch Legolas, he looked away with a smile.

“Doesn’t he like your parents?” The smile that curled the female hobbit lips was a little cruel.

“He likes my father, he bites my mother.” Chuckling, probably at said biting incident, Lobelia came to sit beside him careful of the little elf. “But Lotho usually glares at everyone else.”

They stayed there for the rest of the evening enjoying the peace in Bilbo’s house and playing with the kids until Legolas fell asleep and Lotho curled up in his mother’s lap following the little elf’s example. Picking themselves up both parents brought their babies to their rooms. Passing in front of his room Bilbo did a double take, fiddling the room sparkling clean and baring no resemblance to his old room. Lobelia had definitely made herself at home and knowing she would be there to help did relieve a weight Bilbo hadn’t known had been resting on his shoulders. As Lobelia was placing her son in his crib he walked over and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh, but still gave him a soft smile as he walked away.

++

The first change came with the first snow.

Bilbo woke up to see the very first snowflake of the year fall behind his window and the grey sky filled with heavy clouds ready to cover the Shire in a white blanket. Not feeling the usual weight of Legolas sleeping in the crook of his arm, the hobbit rolled over to find wide blue eyes staring down at him. Down because the little elf was sitting on the bed. Something he had definitely not been able to do the night before. The baby was also a little bigger and chubbier; his face now graced with round cheeks and his arms and legs looking much pudgier then before. Sitting up slowly as to not make his son loose his balance, Bilbo reached over for the now bigger elf not really sure if he was awake or dreaming.

Legolas rolled forward giving the hobbit a heart attack thinking he was falling, but his son simply rolled to his hands and knees and crawled closer to him and unto his lap. With a sigh of relief he picked up the baby and balancing his son from one hip to the other as he slipped on his robe, Bilbo kept glancing at the little elf not sure what was happening. Still he took the time to weave the long blond hair so they wouldn’t get tangled; he weaved them into three small braids he then winded into one bigger braid. He had become quite skilled at braiding hair and had developed different technique and styles expecting to have to do so for many more years.  Satisfied with the end result, he picked Legolas back into his arms and went to find Lobelia.

He found the lady hobbit in the kitchen preparing oatmeal for Lotho with dried fruits, Bilbo walked right to her. The moment she saw the little elf, her eyes went wide and she peered at his son closely with a frown. "Did he eat the whole content of the pantry while we were sleeping?”

“DO you think it’s normal? Should we go see the old hobbit?” Before she could answer their conversation was interrupted by a loud growling noise. Looking down at the blond baby, Bilbo saw that Legolas’ gaze locked on the oatmeal and that the growling sound was coming… from his stomach. Lobelia not one to wait, dipped a spoon in the oatmeal and taking a moment to cool it down by blowing on it then held it out to the little elf. Legolas happily opened his mouth wide, huge blue eyes sparkling in anticipation and happily munched on the oatmeal once Lobelia was able to pull the spoon from the baby’s mouth.

“Well… that’s new!” For his part his son only opened his mouth wide once again looking at her with expectation. Lobelia, incapable of refusing the little elf’s pleading eyes, obediently blew on another spoonful of oatmeal and gave it to the baby. Legolas for his part hummed happily and the moment he had swallowed his mouth was wide opened once again. “I feel like this is never going to end. Your turn Baggins.”

With a huff Lobelia filled a bowl with food and placed some peach puree on top of it, pushing it in his hands with a wooden spoon. Chuckling Bilbo brought his son and breakfast to the table to see a very envious Lotho staring at the bowl of food. The little hobbit started making unhappy sounds until his mother came over presenting him with his own breakfast and a spoon. Lotho had already graduated to eat on his own and looked at the blond elf smugly as his stuffed his face with a huge smile and closed over his spoon.

Just as he had for Lobelia before, his son opened his mouth as wide as he could after each spoonful of oatmeal and cleanup three bowls before he finally stopped opening his mouth for more. Bilbo moved with Lobelia as she picked up her son and placed him on the counter to wash his face. Knowing Lotho never try to touch the little elf anymore he placed his son close to the baby hobbit and reach for his own washcloth. He heard a squeak of surprise and looked down to see Legolas with both little pudgy hand on Lotho’s face with a smile. His son’s eyes stayed blue, his face didn’t show any discomfort, just plain curiosity and joy. Lotho stayed frozen for a moment, his gaze moving all over the little elf’s face, before he seemed to come to a new conclusion about his previously unauthorized to touch friend and reached right back to squeezed the pale pudgy face right back. Both babies grinned at each other and started laughing squeezing each-others face, in Lotho’s case with oatmeal covered fingers.

“Well, isn’t that lovely… and sticky.” Taking the washcloth from Bilbo’s hand she rapidly cleaned both babies’ face and hands before placing both of the on the floor one after the other. Lotho stayed seated for the moment seeming to enjoy touching his friend’s face, now the he was allowed to do so and chuckling when Legolas made a face when one of the hobbit baby made its way into the baby elf’s nose.

Bilbo and Lobelia watched it all side-by-side drinking their morning tea, until Lotho seemed to want to go back to exploring and rolled to all fours dashing away. Legolas surprised by the sudden movement didn’t move, looking at the corner the baby hobbit had just disappeared behind. His son looked back at him and back to the wall looking confused. Lotho’s head popped back from the corner and he made an angry little noise not understanding why Legolas wasn’t following. With a smile the baby elf rolled to all fours and, moving slower than Lotho, but still reached his friend. Moving with the babies the two parents followed them for a little while trying and failing most of the time not to laugh, as every time Lotho was out of sight Legolas would sit and wait until the little hobbit would come back in sight, grumbling unhappily at him and waiting for the little elf to follow him once again. The parents left the babies to their crawling exploration to have their own breakfast and later found both of their son’s curled up against each other on the living room carpet sleeping soundly.  

“Why do I feel like we’ll never be able to separate those two?” Lobelia asked leaning against Bilbo with a smile on her face.

“It can’t be so bad to have a friend to rely on, we both know it’s actually quite nice.” She rolled her eyes at him but didn’t disagree.

Much later when the snowstorm outside calm down they bundled the two babies in as many pieces of winter clothing as they could without completely impairing their movements and went outside. The Shire was covered in white snow, a snow bank almost as tall as Bilbo covered his house and garden and the sky was clearing of its heavy grey sky. The parents placed the babies down letting them explore their first snow. Lotho was playing with the frost around him sitting in the dusty frozen whiteness. Legolas, for his part, moved around and headed straight for the snow bank and started climbing of top of it, just crawling all over the white expense without barely leaving a trace.

“I though the snow was more soft?” Bilbo looked at his son now crawling where his garden usually was and shrugged.

“Doesn’t seem so.” When Lotho crawled closer to the snow bank Lobelia decide to help her son and placed the hobbit baby on top. Bilbo was coming closer when she released her son… and Lotho went right through the snow and disappeared from sight.

Both parents froze in surprise staring at a baby hobbit shape hole as Legolas came back and looked down the hole curiously. Lobelia snapped out of it first reaching forward and fished out her son with his snow covered hair and face his eyes bulged out of his head in surprise. Bilbo was the first one to break laughing behind his hand as he turned trying not to bruise the baby’s ego with his laughter but soon couldn’t control it and folded in two with laughter. He caught a glimpse of Lobelia trembling lip, she was trying so hard not to laugh, but even she ended up cracking some giggles at the offended look on her son’s face. Legolas was still sitting next to the hole in the snow tilting his head to the side trying to understand what was happening.

“Well you were definitely right about the snow.” Tucking her son on her hip she slapped Bilbo on the shoulder and went back inside with a now angrily crying Lotho glaring at all of them. Taking a deep breath to try and calm his laughter, Bilbo turned holding out his hand to pick up his son. Legolas looked at him and smiled crawling backwards. Stopping the hobbit raised his eyebrows and took another step forward to see the little elf crawled backward once more.

“Legolas come here.” With a huge smile the little elf turned around and started crawling back toward the garden sitting when he reached his previous spot and looked at his father still smiling. “Mischievous little elf. Come here.”

When Legolas just stared at him with a smile, Bilbo sighed and started walking in the soft snow. The snow turned out to be waist high and difficult to walk through, but as soon as he came close to the little elf, Legolas held out his hands asking to be picked up. Lifting the baby, he looked down but there was still no trace in the snow made from his son crawling all over the snow.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises.” Legolas looked at him adoringly and snuggled in his arms with a very happy sigh. Bilbo was sure this was only the first of many surprises from having an elf for a son would bring to his life, but he was also looking forward to discovering every single one of them.  

Chapter Text

Both of his index fingers were held in a firm grip, as Legolas looked straight forward, his little feet rooted to the ground unmoving. With great concentration the little elf’s right foot lifted from the ground and was placed back down only inches forward. Blue eyes snapped to him and with a huge grin his son giggled, very proud of himself.

“That’s so good sweetie! How about another one?” The baby elf frowned and went back to staring straight ahead all his concentration on moving his left foot to take his second step. Bilbo was trying so hard not to laugh at the determination his son was showing, but to see the deep concentration and effort he was putting into the task was indeed hilarious. It didn’t help the hobbit’s control when Lobelia came in, took one look at the baby and ran back out, her laughter easily heard resonating back in the room. Slowly but surely Legolas succeeded in taking his second step giggling happily as he looked back up toward his father’s face with great pride in his blue eyes. “Bravo!”

“INCOMING!” Lobelia’s shout was followed by the rapid sounds of a baby hobbit feet hitting the floor at a great speed as Lotho came rushing in. The small hobbit entered the room at full speed, ran circles around Bilbo and his son and went rushing back out. So far Bilbo had not seen Lotho walk; it seemed that he went from crawling to running, the little hobbit had decided to skip the step of walking.

Legolas heaved a great sigh and looked at Bilbo with a pout. “None of that now, you won’t achieve anything by pouting, come on one more.”

It took almost one hour, according to the clock on Bilbo’s wall, but Legolas was finally able to take at least ten steps forward before he tired himself out and asked to be picked up by making grabbing hands toward his father. Placing his son on his hip, Bilbo gave the blond head a kiss and careful to avoid Lotho as he came running down the corridor and made his way to the kitchen. Lobelia looked up from the pot were she was cooking their lunch and rolled her eyes.

“How many steps?”

“Ten! He’s getting better.” Ignoring the statement she gave the little elf an oat and dried fruit cookie. Bilbo could sense how dubious she was about his statement. “He is!”

“I don’t know, aren’t elf supposed to be that super advanced and intelligent race lording over all the other races? Did you get a defective elf?” She was teasing but Bilbo gaped at her shocked.

“LOBELIA! My son is perfect in every way and will walk when he chooses to!” Legolas for his part was completely oblivious to the conversation munching on his cookie and staring at both grown-up alternatively with curious eyes.

“I’m just saying.” She shrugged and turned back to her cooking ignoring the indignant sputtering coming from Bilbo. Before he could reply however Lotho came in and mercifully stopped next to Bilbo’s leg looking up at the little elf and waited. Legolas looked down and stuffed down the rest of his cookie in his mouth before wiggling in his father’s arms to be put down. The moment the baby elf was on the ground the curly haired little hobbit was dashing away but this time with a just as fast crawling Legolas behind him.

“He’ll walk when he really well wants to.” Lobelia didn’t even turn to acknowledge him.

“I know he will Bilbo, I was only teasing you. I swear Baggins lad have a worst temper than Baggins lass.” Bilbo huffed and sat at the table, now calm enough to enjoy this quiet day. He had to because not all days were this peaceful.

Only the day before, Lotho had been crying from sunrise to sunset because of a growing tooth and Legolas, in compassion for his friend, had followed right along and cried for just as long. When it wasn’t one getting a stuffy nose and a cold, it was the other running into a wall and getting a massive bump on their forehead. On those days having another grown-up in the house was a blessing, as Bilbo had no idea what he would have done without Lobelia. When Legolas had been small and barely moving it had been easy. But with his son now very focused on his goal of following the young hobbit on his two feet instead of crawling around; Bilbo was sure his house would soon be even more chaotic.  

Speaking of chaos, he head a soft thumping sound followed by silence and both adults froze listening, ready to move if the silence was followed by crying. Lobelia was already whipping her hands ready to move when the sound of running feet resume this time paired with a loud sniffling sound. It was common occurrence now to hear Lotho falling or crashing into walls and the little hobbit was proving quite resistant as he now cried less and less when those incidents occurred. “I truly wonder if my house will still be standing when the snow melts away.”

Lobelia gave him a critical look and went back to her cooking. “If he wasn’t always looking over his shoulder to make sure Legolas his following him he wouldn’t be crashing all the time.”

Bilbo hummed softly agreeing with the statement. It was true that most of the time Lotho only ran into walls, furniture or doors because he was making sure the little elf wasn’t too far behind. But that wasn’t something they could stop or change. The stocky little hobbit was always looking for his friend or making sure Legolas was in his range of vision, it had been so since the little elf had started touching other beings.

“Isn’t it time for their nap?” Lobelia asked innocently.

“You mean now, as in the exact moment when you are cooking and unable to put them to sleep yourself?’’ Bilbo huffed looking at the back of her head glaring. Lobelia shrugged like she had no idea what he was insinuating.

“You’re better at it and you know it so why argue?”

“Because it’s your turn?”  Lobelia gave him a long look and with a sigh Bilbo moved to his feet. “Next time they’re all yours!”

The trick was to catch both babies at once. If he tried to put Legolas to sleep first the baby would try to crawl out of bed and go back to Lotho. But if he tried to put the baby hobbit to bed first all he would do was cry and fuss until he was able to bring the baby elf to bed. His son was easy to catch, but running after Lotho while carrying Legolas was a nightmare and trying to pick-up his son with a kicking Lotho in his arms was just impossible. Bilbo found both children in the living room, the curly hair hobbit running around the chairs with the blond hair elf giggling as he crawled after him.

Knowing better then to try to grab either of them Bilbo waked to his library and picked up a book taking his time and making a big show of looking over the book and placing it under his arm before walking back, very slowly towards his room. Legolas loved having his father read books to him and, as expected, curious blue eyes followed him as Bilbo walked out with a bright red leather bound book.

Once in his room Bilbo sat crossed legged on his bed and opened the book, reading just loud enough that he could be heard but not enough that he could be heard from outside the room. “A long time ago in a castle under the mountain of Erebor lived a very grouchy dwarf prince…”

He caught himself after a moment, having got engross into the story and peeked over the book to see Legolas sitting on the floor next to the bed, his thumb in his mouth and his other hand caressing his ear sleepily, his clear blue eyes fixed on his father. As expected, Lotho had followed sitting close to his friend his eyes half closed his heavy head nodding to the side as he fought not to fall asleep. Gently as if he was trying not to spook away small animals, Bilbo slide off the bed and one by one picked up the babies and placed them on the bed next to each other. Lotho grumbled unhappily for a moment but calmed down once he was placed next to the small elf using Legolas as his security blanket and wrapping himself around him. His son squirmed making himself comfortable and pulling the blanket over them both, Bilbo took the book back in his hands and resume his reading until both babies were sound asleep.  

Bilbo did consider for a moment just crawling in bed next to the toddlers and taking a nap of his own, but in the end he decided against that and walked out of the room silently. In the kitchen Lobelia was waiting for him with fresh tea and biscuits. “Both asleep?”

He nodded taking the offered cup of tea with a happy sigh and filled the cup saucer with as many biscuits as it could hold before sitting down at the other side of the table. They took a moment to enjoy the pure silence and peace knowing it wouldn’t last.

“Spring is coming.” Bilbo nodded. Spring was indeed at their door, he could feel it in the air, the days were getting warmer and the white blanket of snow that had covered the Shire was slowly melting away. It also meant that soon Lobelia and Lotho would be moving back into their own home… unless.

“You could always….” Lobelia cut him off with a look and shook her head.

“No Bilbo, I did and most definitely still will enjoy all the help you’ve given me with Lotho, but this arrangement was mostly for your sake. I’ll still be there to help and support you, just in my own home.” The gaze she leveled at him didn’t allowed for any other alternative and Bilbo nodded. She was an independent lass who had decided to raise her son alone and she wouldn’t change her mind no matter how much she respected Bilbo and loved Legolas. Bilbo was Legolas’ father and Lotho’s uncle, this was what they had both agreed to and it wasn’t up for discussion. Not that he would have ever asked for Lobelia’s hand in marriage, he liked her just fine, but the hobbit simply wasn’t suicidal.

“As long as you know you’re always welcome here Lobelia that is all I care about.” For a rare and short moment, Lobelia’s gaze turned soft and he saw just how much his words were appreciated. When she reached out he took her hand in his and squeezed it softly smiling back at his son’s aunt. “I love you, Lobelia Baggins.”

“I love you too, Bilbo Baggins.” And they did. For all their bickering, insults and sarcasm, they might make an odd pair but they did love each other.

The tea and biscuits were almost all gone when they heard a soft whine coming from Bilbo’s room. The hobbit gave Lobelia a pointed look and with a light chuckle she stood-up. “My turn.”

Bilbo watches his friend walk away and smiled. When the flowers would brave the snow to see the sun once again, he would lose her presence in his house, but she would always be in his heart.

Chapter Text

“DAYTIME!... and… NIGHTTIME!” Pulling the blanket down on his son as Legolas giggled happily, Bilbo waited for a moment and pulled the blanket away revealing a smiling face and intelligent blue eyes. “DAYTIME!”

They were both sat in the hobbit’s garden enjoying the nice spring weather and the warm sun. The evening had started with a light picnic and after a light nap in the sun; the little elf had started playing with the blanket they had use for the picnic prompting the game they were now playing. “NIGHTTIME!”

“Bilbo!” Leaving his son to untangled himself from the blanket, the little elf still hiccupping from laughter, he looked over to see Lobelia waving at him, Lotho on her hip. “I’m going to the old oak river for a swim, are you coming?”

The old oak river was a shallow river that was mostly used for the benefit of small hobbit children, as an adult could only soak their feet the water not even reaching their knee. Next to the river stood an old oak tree that was probably as old as the Shire, protecting the little ones with its shade.

With a nod in her direction he picked up Legolas and went back inside picking up some supplies he might need and some snacks and walked back to Lobelia. As soon as the babies were close to each other they started squirming to get down from their parents’ arms. With an amused eye roll Bilbo placed his son on the ground and watched as Lotho took the little blond’s hand in his and started walking in the right direction. Even though they weren’t living in the same house anymore, both little ones still loved each other madly and Lotho couldn’t help keeping Legolas close to him every time they were together. When he offered Lobelia took his arm and they walked slowly letting Lotho lead the way.

Legolas still shorter than the hobbit, was almost running to keep up with his friend’s longer strides but was smiling nonetheless his gaze inspecting everything they passed, since he didn’t have to look forward as he was dragged by the little hobbit.

“He finally stopped running everywhere.”

“As soon as he didn’t have Legolas crawling after him, he stopped. Yours finally learned to walk.”

“And speak!” Lobelia gave him a long look. “A little… mostly half words, but still understandable. Yours?” She shook her head with a defeated sigh.

“He’s following his grandfather’s lead and keeping quiet.” Looking closely at Lotho, Bilbo could see that the curly haired hobbit was also looking more and more like his grandfather. The only visible difference being his now mostly hazel eyes, an eye color that definitely did not came from his Baggins side, so he didn’t comment on them. “My father didn’t talk before he was at least ten summers old and that according to my mother was to tell someone they were dumb.”

“That’s… very much like your father. In other word he’ll talk when he feels like it.” Lobelia hummed nodding clearly unconcerned about her son’s choice not to talk even though he was older then Legolas and should have had a good vocabulary to use by now.

As the old oak came into view, Lobelia made an angry little sound, prompting Bilbo to follow her gaze and spotted what she had just seen. Under the tree were some hobbit lasses and their children, the fathers were standing farther away smocking their pipes and talking loudly between themselves. It was no secret that because of her life choices Lobelia wasn’t the most popular lass in the Shire and the subject of quite a few gossips, but Bilbo didn’t fare much better in the Shire’s eyes. As a young confirmed bachelor, who was raising a child from another race, he was regarded as much as a freak as Lobelia was. Still it was a beautiful warm day and he had no patience for idle gossip… plus Lotho hadn’t stopped all of his focus in the small river so onward they went.  

Of course Bilbo had no intention of starting any kind of conversation with the mothers or fathers, so he pulled Lobelia a little farther away, but still in the shade where they installed themselves on the blanket he had used earlier. Lotho and Legolas waited patiently until they were changed into their swimwear. An all-black short sleeve swimsuit for Lotho and a green and white stripped short sleeve one for the baby elf, graciously made by Lobelia’s mother for the little one’s first spring.  His son sat in front of Bilbo to allow his father to tie his hair properly on top of his head as the stocky little hobbit paced clearly wanting to run to the water but not so much that he wouldn’t wait for his friend.

“You should cut them short.” Lobelia chipped in looking on as Bilbo, now a braiding expert, put the finishing touches to his son’s braided crown.

“Do you know how long it takes for elf hair to grow? Because I don’t, Wiseman didn’t and I haven’t found one picture or reference to an elf with short hair.” He also loved his son’s long, shiny blond hair and Legolas clearly loved having the hobbit twinning his hair as he never squirmed or tried to leave while Bilbo was doing his hair.

“Hobbit lads have short hair.” She piped in, but Bilbo gave her a long look clearly showing how unimpressed he was with her opinion on short hair.

“And my son is an elf. What’s your point?” Lobelia held out both of her hands in surrender with a smile. From the corner of his eyes Bilbo could see that some of the mothers were trying to spy on them in a very unsubtle way, but both hobbits ignored them. “Go ahead love, go with Lotho.”

“Th’k fat!” As the children ran to the water Bilbo silently counted down the seconds before… Lobelia explosive laughter that filled his hears.

“FAT!” He peeked at the mothers that were now frowning at them at the outburst and sighed, turning to Lobelia as the children tipped their toes in the cold water.

“He still has issues with some words, some words are harder to pronounce so he goes with what is easiest.” Lobelia was wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes and looking him up and down.

“Well he’s not completely wrong, fatherhood has given you some love handles Baggins.” Bilbo’s glare only made her laugh harder, so he moved to his feet and closer to the children to keep an eye on them. If he had stayed there he would have pointed out that she hadn’t lost any of her baby weight… and from past experience that conversation came with pain and death threats.

The other younglings were playing a little farther away splashing each other and scaring away the small colorful fish that moved in packs. Every time the little cluster of fish caught the light it looked like an underwater rainbow moving around as fast as they could. As the little fish moved closer to Lotho and Legolas, the little hobbit made a run for the fish. The pack split in the middle completely avoiding him and moved directly towards the little blond. His son ever so curious stopped moving and stood still as the fish reached him and started swimming around his ankles.

Bilbo looked on in fascination as the little elf reached down and placed his hand underwater attracting some of the little water creatures to nibble at his fingers making his son giggle in delight. Lotho came running with a smile on his face but the moment he came too close the fish moved away. With small fist on his hips Legolas glared at his friend shaking his head in disapproval.

“No, no, no Lo!” His son took his friend’s hand and pulled him closer, giving Lotho one long look until the brunette stopped moving. The little hobbit sighed in defeat and froze, waiting. Sure enough like moths to a flame the fish came back towards Legolas and this time swam lazily around both of the children’s ankles making them smile.

Bilbo watched them for a while, looking on with a smile as the fish moved with the children as they moved hand in hand around the small expend of water. It was beautiful to see the smile on Lotho’s face and to hear his son giggle as light hit the fish at different angles changing their colors seemingly with every step the little one took. Lobelia came to sit next to him giving Bilbo a sandwich and some tea as she smiled at the sight of their children playing in the water. “Done pouting?”

“Done being obnoxious?” They smiled widely at each other and drank their tea in companionable silence.

The other youngling had stopped playing at some point all of their gazes turning to the little elf and hobbit in envy as their children moved closer to them the cluster of fish in tow. One youngling in particular, with heavy red curls and a face full of freckles moved forward to better see the rainbow of fish, but as soon as he approached they all scattered away. Legolas seemed about to repeat the same verbal and none verbal instruction he had given to Lotho, when the little red haired hobbit pushed the blond in frustration.

Bilbo saw water splashing and the next moment Legolas was sitting in the water with wide surprised eyes soaked from head to toe. He heard some of the mothers gasped in shock, but he wasn’t really paying attention to what seemed to have surprised or scared them as his son started rubbing his eyes to get the water that had landed in them out.

Now Bilbo was usually quite over-protective of his son, but since there was no crying or whining he waited a moment, clearly seeing that the little blond was alright if not completely soaked… which had been the point in coming to the small river. But when he heard the gasp of shock behind him once again he took his eyes away from his son and… oh!

Lotho was towering over the red haired youngling with a very look in his eyes. For such a young hobbit Lobelias’s son was quite tall and burly, Bilbo also knew he was quite strong. One of the lasses, one with long red hair that was clearly the mother, started to run towards the water in panic, while Lobelia stayed exactly where she was sipping her tea. “Hum, Lobelia?”

“Just watch.” And Bilbo did, as Lotho fist lifted in the air; his little chubby face contorted in anger and… extended his index finger to hit the other youngling’s nose softly once before shaking it in disapproval and resting his other fist on his hip. The little red haired hobbit started crying at the silent scolding, Lotho rolled his eyes in exasperation and spotting the now confused mother took the youngling’s hand in his and dragged the crying child to his mother placing the small hand in hers with a sigh. The brunette then returned to his friend and helped him to his feet examining Legolas from head to toe before giving a nod of approval. “He’s a protector not a fighter.”

Bilbo could only nod as, just like the red haired hobbit, his son was brought to him by Lotho as the little blond’s hair had come untied and was now completely tangled. “Thank you Lotho.”

Lotho gave him a nod and looked at his mother with raised eyebrows. “Lunch?”

Her son nodded once again and they all move back to their picnic area. Bilbo wrapped Legolas in a fluffy towel as Lobelia gave the children their meals. His son was sitting on his lap happily munching on his food and mumbling in between each bite about the fish as Bilbo hummed in agreement only understanding half of it, busy with untangling the soft blond hair. He was so concentrated in his task, that he didn’t notice right away that they now had a small audience and looked up in surprise. All the mothers had come closer looking unsure if they were welcome.

“Good afternoon ladies.” They looked at each other still looking a little unsure. Lobelia for her part was mostly ignoring them sipping her tea, but the moment Bilbo started to braid his son’s hair, they all started to speak at once.

“Oh Mister Baggins your so talented!” One piped in.

“You absolutely have to teach me how to braid my daughter’s hair!” Another cooed happily.

“Lobelia your son is so well behave!” That one Lobelia ignored spectacularly, still sipping her tea and not looking at them.

“Oh MY my! Isn’t he just darling with his blond hair and blue eyes?” The red haired one said sitting next to Bilbo.

“Ah Lotho is such a darling!” The subject of praise gave a scoff and returned his attention to his elf friend clearly unimpressed by the sudden appearance of all those lasses and their loud voices.

In all the onslaught of chatter and compliment they found themselves surrounded as the mothers sat with them, chatting happily between themselves. Bilbo was confused looking around and caught Lobelia’s eyes as she kept being, what he consider quite polite. This basically meant she kept on sipping her tea and didn’t open her mouth to speak. Anything she would have said would probably have been full of sarcasm and bitter, as none of these lasses had ever given her a second look after her decision to raise her son alone and even Bilbo was confused as to why they were now talking to them.

“So!” Bilbo turned to be faced with searching green eyes belonging to the mother of the little red haired hobbit who had pushed Legolas. “When will the weeding be announced?”

He could see from the corner of his eyes Lobelia roll her eyes and Bilbo looked at the mother with a frown not understanding the question. “What wedding?”

“You and Lobelia of course! Wasn’t this whole winter house sharing your courtship?” Bilbo was just staring at her, blinking slowly his hands frozen in the middle of a braid. ”A summer wedding would be just perfect!”

“… why would we get married?” She was still nattering on about flowers and bridesmaid so he repeated louder making his son look up at him with a worried look. “Why.would.we.get.married?”

“Well…” The red haired hobbit pointed to Legolas as all the other mothers turned their attention on him, even Lobelia stopped sipping her tea and paid attention to him, now interested in the conversation. “A young lad such as your son needs a female presence in his life to grow-up right. Isn’t that why you courted a single mother?”

Said single mother snorted earning the glares of the other lasses, but Bilbo was still staring at the red haired mother feeling anger rising in his stomach. Stopping himself at the last moment, he ignored her for a moment and turned his attention to Lotho with a warm smile. “Lotho sweetie, would you take Legolas with you and go swim?”

The brunette gave his uncle a long look before he nodded and took the little elf’s hand just as Bilbo was tying his son’s hair back into place. Legolas gave his father a worried look but he smiled and gave his son a quick kiss on the cheek as the two younglings went back to the water. Bilbo waited until the little ones attention were caught by the fish who had come back towards them as fast as they could and noting that the little red haired hobbit was now having fun pushing the younglings around him in the water turned back to his mother, his smile slipping from his face and replaced by a scowl.

“Clearly having a female presence hasn’t taught good manners to your son.” The silence that followed was music to Bilbo’s heart and he could see Lobelia hiding her smile behind her tea cup. He wasn’t sarcastic or mean as his friend could be, but any insults in regards to his parenting or Lobelia’s were not tolerated. “And I for one would never insult Lobelia by presuming that she is not able to raise her child without a husband as Lotho is already a much finer young hobbit then most adults I have encounter in the Shire, you lass included.”

He gave all of the mothers a flat look, challenging any of them to add anything and was pleased when in a huff the red haired mother jumped to her feet and stormed away followed by her flock. He turned back to see one of the mothers had stayed seated next to Lobelia laughing openly. He would not have described her as plain, but she wasn’t remarkable or even memorable looking in anyway and he even noted with shame that he hadn’t even noticed her before this instant. Even Lobelia seemed surprised of her presence. She had straw colored blond hair, mud brown eye and a round face. She looked up at them and smiled, turning her whole face into something warm and motherly.

“Asphodel Brandybuck, nice to meet you.” Lobelia nod in greeting and Bilbo returned her smile. Asphodel pointed to the water where a tiny little girl with a mess of blond curls was playing with Legolas and Lotho. “That’s my daughter Berylla.”

“Won’t your friends miss you?” Lobelia inquired lightly nodding towards the flock of mothers who were glaring at them from afar. “Don’t become a pariah on our behalf.”

“When the pariahs are nicer than your friends, a change of circles might be in order don’t you think?”  She smiled sweetly at Lobelia, and Bilbo saw the moment his friend decided she liked Asphodel. Bilbo offered her tea and a sandwich and they fell into easy discussion keeping an eye on the younglings.

As the sun started to go down Lotho and Legolas came back with Berylla in toe. As they picked up their bags and now sleepy children, Bilbo noticed that none of the men were coming over to help Asphodel and looked up in surprise as their new friend pick up her daughter. She smiled at him understanding his silent question.

“A dead husband is more acceptable then no husband at all.” Bilbo shook his head at the prejudice the hobbits from the Shire had. Lobelia for her part snorted in derision, but placed a comforting hand on Asphodel shoulder smiling at her.

“Men are useless.”

“Lobelia!” Both lasses turned to him and Lobelia shrugged.

“With a few exceptions of course... but very few.” Asphodel added making Lobelia laugh.

They walked back together, Legolas running ahead with Lotho holding his hand as Berylla slept in his mother’s arms. Lobelia was the first one to go and as they neared Bilbo’s house he turned to Asphodel. “We should do this again soon.”

Her smile was soft and grateful as she answered. “I would love to.”

Chapter Text

While Bilbo was very happy his son had a new friend and absolutely adored Asphodel, having the three of them in his house running around and causing havoc everywhere, they were driving him crazy.

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE OUT!” All three youngling froze turning towards him to see Bilbo with one fist on his hip and the other pointing at the door. Now seven summers old Legolas was in that awkward stage of his growth that made him look like his arms were too long, his legs too short and his face still holding his baby fat but already showing he would have sharp cheekbones later on. His son was also growing taller than his friends. Lotho was thick and full of muscle but he would probably not grow as tall as his grandfather and Berylla was still this tiny little hobbit with messy blond hair, but a smidge taller than when they had first met her. “Out! Go see if Wiseman needs any help with his garden.”

“Yes father!”

“Yes uncle!”

“… yes mister Baggins.” They all ran out laughing and Bilbo sighed finally getting some peace and quiet. He was already dreading what their teen years would look like. Lobelia and Asphodel had gone to the market so he decided to enjoy this moment alone to work on his own much neglected garden.

Putting on his hat, Bilbo stepped outside stopping a moment to let the sun caress his face and sigh happily as he could only hear the birds singing and the bugs happily chirping in the grass. He truly loved his son and was very happy that Legolas had such loyal friends but moments of peace were rare now a day and this moment was a rare gift and he had every intention of enjoying it.

Bilbo had his hands deep in the dirt cleaning up his garden from weeds and making sure his vegetable were healthy when a tall shadow fell over him. The sky had been clear moments ago and looking up he saw that the shadow had a curved wizard hat and a walking stick. Turning around the hobbit looked up the expense of grey fabric to find laughing blue eyes looking down at him filled with kindness.

“GANDALF!” Jumping to his feet Bilbo took a moment to clap his hands together trying to get rid of as much dirt as he could and hugged his friend. The old man laughs happily patting the hobbit head.

“Young Baggins it is a pleasure to see you in such high spirits.” Thinking back to the last time they had seen each other, at his parents’ funeral, Bilbo smiled falter for a moment. Gandalf seemed to be sharing his sorrow for a moment, but his easy smile soon returned. “How have you been?”

“Well I…” An angry shout cut him off and they both turned in surprised to see a very angry looking Lobelia walking, almost running towards them, her eyes glaring daggers at the old man. She came barreling to them leaving hers bags close to the door before marching towards them like she was on a war path and placing herself between Bilbo and Gandalf. She was about to talk, but stopped turned to Bilbo and her face soften for a moment.

“Where are the children?”

“Helping Wiseman with his gardening.” Bilbo answered fast, not use to see his friend this angry. She nodded and turned back to the wizard. Her face was so filled with anger Gandalf took a step back. The great man who was said to have faced the most dangerous and hideous creatures of Middle earth, was scared of a small angry hobbit.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was clipped with fury and Bilbo wondered what had brought on so much hatred.

“Well... good day to you too Miss Baggins. Politeness is still not…” Lobelia cut him off right away.

“You of all people have no right to judge me, OH great Gandalf.” The sarcasm was dripping from her voice and Bilbo flinched when Gandalf looked like he had just been slapped.

“Can I inquire about your opinion of me, Miss Baggins?’ Gandalf was truly confused and so was Bilbo.

“Are you here to stay?” And just like that Bilbo knew why Lobelia was so angry. He had never held a grudge against the old man on this matter but he was not so surprised to know his friend had.

“I do not understand how…” Gandalf tried but Lobelia was having none of it.

“Are. You. Here. To. Stay?” Gandalf took another step back as Lobelia crossed her arms.

“No I’m only passing through.” She nodded.

“Then pass through and let it be the last we see of you.”

“Lobelia.” Bilbo tried to calm her down, but she only spared him a look.

“I do not understand the nature of the grudge you seem to be holding against me Lobelia.” Calling her by her first name was a mistake and Gandalf realized it the moment she stepped forward, murder in her eyes.

“It’s Miss Baggins to YOU!” Bilbo flinched, not sure if trying to diffuse the situation would make it better or worst. “My grudge as you so elegantly put it; is your cowardice!”

“I am no coward!” The grey man was visibly offended by the accusation, but Lobelia just went on, ignoring Gandalf’s protest. Bilbo for his part couldn’t help but feel, if only a little tiny bit, glad that he had someone in his life so protective of him.

“A COWARD! A coward who praised loudly to have been a close friend of Belladonna and Bungo, a good friend there for their funeral who saw how broken their son was and still left!” Bilbo saw the moment the old man realized what Lobelia was accusing him of and stopped trying to protest. “The great wandering wizard couldn’t be bothered to stay, offer comfort or help his friend’s son in his moment of need. So please do as you always do and be on your way, making friends on your travels that you cannot be bothered to actually care about.”

“Lobelia… it’s alright.” He placed a soft hand on her shoulder and felt her tense muscles relax under his touch. She placed her hand over his squeezing it lightly and turned away from the grey man with a final glare.

“No its not, but then again you are much more forgiving than I’ll ever be.” Lobelia never looked back at Gandalf as she walked back to the house and picked up her bags. “I’ll put these away and make tea, once I’m done he better be gone.”

With that she disappeared into the house and slammed the large door shut. Gandalf still seemed to be too stunned to talk, he looked at the sky his gazed not really seeing anything. Gently Bilbo took the old man’s hand and squeezed it lightly bringing him back to the present.

“I fear Lo… Miss Baggins is quite right in her accession of my character.” Bilbo looked at the grey man in surprise, seeing the regret in Gandalf eyes. “I could and should have been with you when you needed my support… I am ashamed to only now think I could have been of more help.”

“I never held a grudge against your choice not to stay Gandalf. My parents loved you dearly and considered you a good friend, but I never expected… anything of you after they were gone.” Gandalf actually seemed sadden by those words but nodded.

“I could have brought you with me, on an adventure.” The hobbit smiled but shook his head.

“Hobbits don’t go on adventures.”

“… maybe they should.” Gandalf said pensive but Bilbo only laughed shaking his head. “One day you will go on an adventure young Baggins.”

“Maybe one day…” Bilbo said in a whisper barely loud enough for the old man to hear. But what the hobbit was thinking, was that one day his son might want to visit other elves, might want to know more about his origins and on that day Bilbo would either have to let his son go or go with him. Gandalf smiled, but didn’t comment further.

“I’ll go as to not encounter, once again, the wrath of Miss Baggins, but I’ll see you again soon young Baggins.” Bilbo hugged the tall man goodbye.

“I truly hope so… old friend.” He saw Gandalf wipe away the corner of his eyes and with a final look the grey man walked away going back to his eternal wandering.

Bilbo stayed unmoving until he could not see the tall grey figure anymore, watching on as the sky turned grey and the sun stopped, shining on the hills of the Shire. He felt something next to him, a familiar warm silent presence and only had to open his arms for his son to fall into them in a crushing hug.

“Are you alright?” Legolas asked his voice muffled as he snuggled into his father’s arms. Bilbo wasn’t sure if it was because they had shared a bond when his son was younger, but Legolas always seemed to know what the hobbit was feeling and often reacted to Bilbo’s sadness with physical contact… more than usual.

“Yes. Yes I am just reminiscing.” Lobelia opened the door and, seeing father and son in each other arms, rolled her eyes.

“Tea’s getting cold! Where’s Lotho?”

“Still helping with the garden… I felt I had to come back.” Lobelia nodded giving Bilbo a sharp worried look and went back inside. With a sigh the hobbit took his son’s hand wanting to keep the physical contact a little longer and pulled him along as he walked towards the house. “Come on, we don’t want to make your aunt angry because of cold tea.”

Legolas still looked a little worried, but followed his father, squeezing his hand lightly.

oO0()0Oo

If days later a certain grey wizard happened to come upon a former dwarf prince sitting in a tavern and decide to stay and help him instead of walking away.

It might have been because a small hobbit’s voice reminding him of his past mistake.

It might.

But stay he did and the idea of a hobbit on an adventure started growing in his mind.

Chapter Text

Legolas’ growth spurred over the last years had been a true nightmare on Bilbo and his house. Going from an awkwardly form young elf with too long arms, to short legs and the remains of some very persistent baby fat, his son had finally settled into his body or, as he’d been told by Wiseman, his teenager body.

With the growth of the young elf, some changes had been dearly needed in the house to be able to fit around his son’s new height. With the first growth spur, Legolas’ bed had become too small to fit his now long legs and his childhood bed had been replaced by a human sized bed that Bilbo had, Lobelia and Lotho’s grandfather swearing for hours while they had work to assemble it. With the long legs had come a change in height that had pointed out to the hobbit how low his ceiling actually was. So with great reticence, but wanting his son to be comfortable in his own home and knowing the elf would grow some more, the floor had been lowered, new wooden floor had been installed and some steps fitted in front of the main door so Bilbo wouldn’t have to jump down or climb up every time he needed to go out or in his house. The lowering of the floor had taken some getting used to, but overall gave his little house some panache and made it look much bigger. It also allowed the hobbit to expend his book collection now that he had enough space to have more shelves and a ladder had been fitted to the wall to allow him access to the highest books. Another ladder had been fitted into his now much larger pantry, since as it happen an elf who had gotten used to an hobbit diet could eat any respectable hobbit under the table, so with the floors the pantry had also been enlarged.

But what annoyed Bilbo the most and always had to be replaced each weeks, were Legolas’ clothes. His son was growing out of his clothes at an excessively fast rate. So much so that even Lobelia’s mother had thrown in the towel and now refused to make clothes for the young elf until he was done growing.

So early that morning, Bilbo had helped Legolas find some clothes that still fit him and they had made their way to the market to find some new ones. His son was also wearing a heavy cape with a large hood to hide his pointy hears and long golden hair. The Shire had learned to accept that an elf was being raised amongst them, especially with Lobelia’s mother and father deciding to adopt Legolas as their nonofficial grandson, but outside of the Shire the young elf’s presence was unknown. Something Bilbo had been very careful of over the years. Since he didn’t know how most people would react to such a young elf, but more importantly what would happen to his son if he was seen by other elf or worst if rumors of his existence reach unfriendly ears. Legolas of course was aware of all this and was very careful to keep his face hidden every time they travelled outside of their territory.

“Can we stop at the bookstore after we pick-up some clothes?” Legolas inquired softly, his hand fisted tightly in his father own cape scared to lose the small hobbit in the crowd.  

“Yes of course.” In the darkness of the hood Bilbo saw clear blue eyes look down at him in adoration and a soft happy smile.

They walked from stall to stall buying too big shirt that would probably become too small way too fast and pants that would soon have difficulty containing too long legs. With a sigh Bilbo paid for two used pairs of boots knowing it was futile to buy anything new when he would probably be reselling them by the end of the month. Legolas carried all the bags, not letting his father carry any of them and pouting every time the hobbit insisted he could carry at least one of the bags.

As promised they stopped at the bookstore and Bilbo relocated himself next to the door with the bags at his feet while his son ran into the small store. Once in a while he peeked inside the small building seeing his son move from shelf to shelf trying to find a book they didn’t already own. Bilbo kept an eye on the small, but fast growing pile of books the young elf was carrying around.

“Maximum five!”

“But!”

“Five Legolas.” He watched as the blond shuffled from on feet to the other, his pile containing seven books.

“… they have the new volume from your favorite author.” Who was also Legolas’ favorite author and his son was clearly trying to manipulate him, but nonetheless Bilbo sighed and nodded.

“Six then.” A small blue book was placed reverently back in its right place and his son came over to collect the money. The merchant, a small greying man laughed silently as Bilbo rolled his eyes looking on as the young elf carefully packed the books away like they were more precious than gold. Once again Legolas took all the bags not letting his father carry any of them and they started to walk back towards the Shire.

“Thank you.” At the soft voice Bilbo looked up and smiled.

“You’re welcome.” Since his son’s arms were full of their purchase and he could see the young blond’s eyes darting around in worry, Bilbo took hold of his son’s cape to reassure him. Legolas’ shoulders relaxed and he smiled at his father. “You do realize I’ve been to the market many times before you were even born. You don’t have to worry about me getting lost; I would find my way back.”

“But I don’t want to lose you! Not even for a moment.” Legolas looked slightly panicked for a moment at the mere thought of losing the small hobbit. Tugging his son to the side of the road where it was less busy, he pulled until Legolas was kneeling before him and took his face in his hands.

“And you won’t, not ever. Believed me I’m as scared of losing you as you are me.” The blond look surprised at the statement.

“Where could I possibly go?” Bilbo smiled shaking his head. Maybe for now his son was content to live in the Shire surrounded by hobbits, but he wasn’t so foolish as to think his son would never want to go out into the world and explore his origins. Legolas had never seen another elf, he read about all of their kingdoms in books, but knew nothing else about his race then what he could find in books. One day, hopefully not soon, his son would hear the siren’s song of adventures and Bilbo wasn’t foolish enough not to think the young elf would answer to it.

“Indeed, where could you possibly go?” With a kiss to his son’s forehead Bilbo turned around and resumed his walking soon feeling a familiar presence close behind him. Without looking Bilbo reached back to hold onto the young elf’s cape once again and they keep on walking in silence.

Soon enough they veered off the main road and found themselves all alone walking on the path back towards the Shire. They could see its green hills in the distance as the sounds of the forest surrounded them. Bilbo was lost in his thoughts thinking of what he would cook once they reached home and if he should invite Lobelia over for tea knowing Legolas would probably run off to spend some time with Lotho and Berylla as soon as he could.

“Father?” Bilbo hummed in answered still thinking, but was pulled from his thoughts as Legolas called to him once more this time sounding worry.

“What is it?”

“I think we are being followed.” Not one for subtlety Bilbo turned around to see what his son was speaking off. If it had been another hobbit he would have thought nothing of it, as very few humans or taller being ever used that road. But not far behind them a tall figure in a heavy looking black cape covering the figure form head to toe was definitely following them.  As father and son stopped moving the figure also stopped.

Bilbo looked around, but they were still far from the Shire and no one was around to help them if the figure was to attack them. He moved in front of his son and crossed his arms trying to look intimidating. “Can we help you? Are you lost?”

The figure didn’t moved for a long moment letting the silence stretch, as Legolas who had dropped his bags was trying to pull his father behind him, being his usual overprotective self. Finally the figure pulled his hood away… revealing hair so black they almost appeared blue and pointy ears.

“Where are your masters?” Slapping his son’s hands away as they kept trying to pull him behind the blond elf, Bilbo stared at the elf in surprise. Legolas finally seemed to notice that the stranger was an elf just like him and froze, his eyes going wide in shock.

“What masters?” The hobbit asked not really understanding what was happening.

“Your elf masters Halfling.” At the term used to refer to the hobbit his son eyes turned thunderous and Bilbo simply knew that given the chance the blond would attack the stranger. “The young one parents I assume.”

Oh well that explained the confusion, but still… ”He’s my father!”

Bilbo looked up to see Legolas’ arms crossed glaring challengingly at the other elf daring him to call the hobbit any other derogative names. The stranger looked from the furious young elf to the hobbit and Bilbo nodded confirming the statement.

“Stop jesting young one! A Halfling servant couldn’t raise a… ” A knife flew towards the other elf, only missing him by a breath and Bilbo turned in shock towards his son.

“LEGOLAS!” The young elf looked down at his father sheepishly. “WHERE DID YOU GET A KNIFE?”

“… well… Lotho said… it’s safer… to protect ourselves from robbers.” Legolas wasn’t even looking at him wriggling his hands together, his eyes staring at the ground.

“WHAT?!?” Bilbo was going to have a long talk with Lobelia about her son and his love for blades when they got back. But first he would deal with his own son. “We do not throw knives at people… where did Lotho even find a knife?”

“… aunty Lobelia’s silverware.” Bilbo looked back to see the elf holding up a silver butter knife his green eyes looking from the knife to him in confusion. Ignoring that for a moment, Bilbo crossed his arms and started tapping his left foot to the ground in irritation.

“And what exactly where you expecting to do with a butter knife? Make your assailant laugh to death? Really Legolas you know better than this, I’m disappointed in you.”

“I’m sorry father.”

“… master hobbit?” Bilbo glared at the stranger over his shoulder almost smiling when he saw the much taller elf take a step back.

“I’ll be with you in a moment wait your turn.” Without waiting for an answer Bilbo turned back to his son. “As for you, growing up with me and your aunt Lobelia you should know how to respond to insults with words and not violence. Now you should apologize for your action young man.”

“I said I was sorry father.”

“Not to me! To…” Bilbo snapped his fingers at the elf surprising both elves. “Your name sir if you would be so kind, my son needs to apologize for the throwing of the butter knife.”

“… Caranthir from the kingdom of Menegroth in the…” The hobbit cut the elf off.

“Apologize to sir Caranthir.” Legolas gave a great sigh and his gaze turned hateful as he looked at the stranger.

“I apologize sir Caranthir for attacking you with a butter knife, after YOU had insulted my dear father with undeserved demeaning words.” Bilbo had to hide his smile behind his hand at the pure sarcasm in his son’s voice when he ended the sentence with the fakest smile the hobbit had ever seen on the young elf’s face. The stranger seemed quite shocked clearly unsure how to proceed, but Bilbo wasn’t done teaching manners to an elf.

“As for you Sir Caranthir, do YOU have anything to apologize for?” The dark haired elf seemed very offended at the very idea, but his lips curled into a tiny smile and he bowed to the hobbit with a flourish.

“My deepest apologies to you Master Hobbit, it was rude of me to assume of your rank and not give you the respect you deserved.” Legolas was still glaring at the other elf, but Bilbo nodded accepting the apology.

“Very well then, now that everything is settled… good day to you sir!” The hobbit turned around quickly followed by his son, when he notices that the dark haired elf was still following them. Stopping, Bilbo turned back with a frown tired of the shadow they seemed to have acquired. “Was there anything else?”

“If it wouldn’t be any trouble I would like a word with you master hobbit.”

“About?” The dark haired elf looked quickly towards Legolas. “As my son attacked you with a butter knife, I feel it is only polite to invite you over for tea. Is that acceptable?”

“I gladly accept the offer master hobbit and thank you for your kindness.” Bilbo had to smile at how polite the elf was now acting towards him and peeked at his son to see Legolas still glaring at the taller elf.  

They walked back to the Shire in silence, Legolas placing himself between the hobbit and the strange elf. As they passed in front of Lobelia’s house, where she was sweeping her entry, she looked up and at the sight of the second elf snorted. “Are you adopting a new one? Really Bilbo you should stop picking up elves in the woods.”

Instead of answering he held out the butter knife he had taken from the dark haired elf earlier and gave it to her. “And I would ask your son where your silverware as gone.”

“That little… LOTHO!” They all saw her son jumped down from his bedroom window and run away as Lobelia started to chase her son waving her broom around. With a chuckle Bilbo kept on walking.

Once home, he invited the stranger inside and noticed the elf surprised expression at being able to stand without having to crouch once he was inside. Legolas was still standing between the elf and his father so Bilbo pushed him out of the way. “Go put your clothes in your room and wash off the dirt from face.”

“But…” His son glared at the elf clearly not wanting to leave Bilbo alone with the dark haired stranger.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” The young blond reluctantly walked away with a final glare of pure hatred. Turning back to their guest he smiled politely and pointed towards the living room. “Please make yourself comfortable I’ll be right back.”

Not waiting to see if Caranthir would comply, Bilbo moved to the kitchen preparing tea and a small platter of food, as the good host any hobbit had been thought to be. He had no idea how long he took but when he returned to the living room with the tea and food, Legolas was sitting on the floor with his back to his father’s chair and the dark haired elf was talking to him in a strange dialect. It was almost like Caranthir was singing, his voice soft and melodic. Bilbo could easily guess it was elvish. His son was mostly still glaring at the other elf, not impress one bit with the taller being and wearing his hatred proudly.

“He doesn’t speak elvish. I have raised him since he was a babe and never had anyone around to teach Legolas his race’s language.” The stranger stopped and reverted to the common tongue.

“My apologies, even if you informed me that you had raised him, I still have difficulty believing a hobbit could care for an elf child.” Handing out tea and food Bilbo shrugged taking his place in his favorite chair and choose not to comment when Legolas rested his head on his knee and curled up closer. The dark haired elf hummed at the display smiling. “I should have believed you the moment I saw how protective he was of you master hobbit, only a parent with a strong bond with his child inspires such devotion.”

“The bond goes both ways.” The dark haired elf smiled nodding and seemed to relax into the warmth of the small hobbit’s home.

“Would it be possible, if I’m not asking for too much, to know how you became this young elf father?” Bilbo started playing with a lock of his son blond hair as he sipped his tea. He had never kept it a secret from his son on the incident that had resulted in Bilbo adopting him. It had actually been something the hobbit had considered very important for his son to know, not wanting to hide his origins from the young elf. So what had started as a bedtime story, without the blood and the gore had evolved over the year into the real story and Bilbo easily found the words to the story coming back to him as he started to relate the events to their guest. While he spoke Legolas eyes closed leaning his head more heavily on the hobbit’s knee and Bilbo tenderly caressed his son’s cheek.

Once Bilbo was done, silence reign in the room, only filled with the sound of the wood burning in the fireplace where Legolas had started a small fire when the sun had started to go down.  The dark haired elf gaze was lost in the flames as Bilbo left him to his thoughts, nudging his son aside as the blond yawned clearly exhausted. The hobbit half pushed half dragged his son to his room and tucked the young one in his bed, kissing his forehead and turning away to leave.

“I don’t like him.” Legolas whispered softly. Bilbo came back and tuck a loose strand of hair behind pale pointy hear and smiled calmly.

“He’ll be gone soon, back on the road. Just sleep I’ll come to see you once he leaves.” His son snuggled his face in the hobbit hand nodding and closed his eyes. Leaving the door open behind him, Bilbo walked out to show their guest out, only to find the elf waiting for him with a serious expression on his face.

“I would like to request asylum of you master hobbit.” Bilbo blinked slowly. Well it was dark outside now and probably not safe to travel.

“For the night? Yes of course, I’ll…”

“For the winter.” The dark haired elf kneeled so he was at eye level with the hobbit his face serious. “I have travelled from the thousand Caves of Menegroth with its rock carved forest to this small Shire and I am finding myself curious of you master Hobbit.”

“I don’t think…”

“Your price will be mine. I feel myself at ease in this home you’ve made for your son and yourself. It is not a feeling I have found anywhere else, not even my own kingdom. It would be my honor to share a roof with you for a season.” Bilbo was about to decline but he thought back to earlier when Caranthir had been speaking in elvish and stopped himself. “I swear to make myself useful and not to be an interference in your life.”

“Would you teach elvish to Legolas?” Thinking more about it, it seemed like the best use the hobbit could do of another elf in his house. ”And myself. Why not? Of course any help you can provide will also be greatly appreciated.”

“It would be an honor master hobbit.” The elf clasped Bilbo’s hands in his sealing their accord and jumped to his feet. “I’ll go back to the inn where I was renting a room and come back tomorrow at sunrise.”

“Hum we only have two bedrooms… but I suppose I could sleep in my son's room.” The elf nodded.

“We can go over the fine details tomorrow master hobbit, but your wishes will be my commands.” The tall being seemed much more alive now, happiness shinning all over his face… and he looked gorgeous. Bilbo forced a smile as the thought enter his head and walked back to the door with the elf trying to smother his previous thought.

“Please call me Bilbo.” Caranthir smiled softly and bowed once again before departing into the night.

As Bilbo had promised he went back to his son’s room, but instead of waking the young elf up, he slip under the covers and smiled when Legolas snuggled against him, his nose buried into the hobbit curls.

oO0()0Oo

When days later Lobelia and Asphodel came over to see Bilbo and saw the dark haired elf sitting by the garden teaching a still reluctant but slowly getting interested Legolas, his friends looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“You know I was joking about picking up another elf right?” Lobelia pointed out.

“Well isn’t that a handsome one.” Asphodel added with a mischevious smile making Bilbo groaned in defeat when they followed him inside.

He was already regretting all of his life choices as they kept on pilling comments after comments.

Chapter Text

“I see tall, dark and handsome is still in residence.” Asphodel delivered her statement as if she was talking about how cloudy the day was, in a soft almost whispered voice uncaring if said tall dark elf that was in residence in Bilbo’s living room heard her or not.  Bilbo who had been preparing hot milk with honey almost dropped the mug he had been filling, while Lobelia looked very impressed and snickered when she looked at the startled hobbit.

Bilbo ran to the kitchen door to see if Caranthir had heard his friend or worst if Legolas had heard her, but everything was quiet. Turning back he glared at Asphodel who was sipping her milk like she hadn’t just almost given the hobbit a heart attack.

“Asphodel please cease, elves have excellent hearing.” Bilbo whispered angrily. Lobelia was clearly having the time of her life now that there was someone else to help her torture Bilbo.

“I know.” The lass said with her still infuriating calm voice and giving Bilbo a look like he was slow or stupid. He had a moment to truly consider the necessity of having Asphodel and Lobelia in his life and sigh knowing he would never be able to get rid of them. “I’ve also seen the way you look at each other, Bilbo this tip-toeing is getting ridiculous. Why not speed-it along?”

“Because…” Bilbo opened his mouth to answer but couldn’t really put his finger on the reason he had kept his distance with the elf. There was something there, but…

“Because no one will ever be good enough for Legolas’ precious father.” Lobelia answered easily. And yes she was right on that point, his son had been openly glaring at the dark haired elf every time Caranthir ever so much as looked at Bilbo. Asphodel hummed approvingly and sipped at her milk, happy with the explanation.

“Understandable, Berylla doesn’t approve of any lads attention coming my way either. What about Lotho?”

“Lotho is smart enough to know no hobbit would be crazy enough to court Lobelia Baggins.” Bilbo said with a look at his friend defying her to deny the statement. For her part the lass refrained from saying anything glaring at Bilbo nonetheless.

“Father?” Bilbo spun around at the sound of his son’s voice, to be face with the dark elf and the two hobbit youngling that belong to his demons of a friends. “Is the milk ready?”

Bilbo gave both lass’ a look of warning to change the subject and nodded to his son inviting everyone to sit at the table. Caranthir smiled softly at Bilbo when their fingers brushed together as the hobbit handed the elf his mug. Legolas, true to form, glared at the older elf and sat plastering himself to his father’s side. Asphodel and Lobelia snickered behind their mugs, but didn’t comment to Bilbo’s great relief. Lotho and Berylla sat next to each other looking at the grown-ups with raised eyebrows but knowing better then to ask what was so funny to their mothers.

“How are the lesson’s going?” Asphodel asked the dark haired elf.

“Legolas’ progress are truly impressive since he was never introduce to elvish as a youngling and I must say lady your daughter is a natural, I truly wish I could teach her more if it would please you.” Asphodel nodded her agreement her cheek flushed pink at the compliment to her daughter. Lobelia didn’t ask after Lotho knowing full well her son was not paying attention to the lessons and was only present to keep an eye on his friends. The silent youngling spent the lesson either reading or sharpening his knife having no interest in learning a new language when he barely spoke on a good day.

Bilbo, for his part, had assisted to some of the lesson and could now follow a conversation, but as to the task of speaking and articulating elvish he had abandoned the idea, incapable of wrapping his tongue around the almost singing language.  Berylla with her soft melodic voice had no such problem and actually enjoyed practicing with Legolas and learning with Caranthir.

Lobelia was looking at the elf and tilted her head to the side and Bilbo knew she was about to ask an intrusive question to the elf and prayed it wouldn’t be embarrassing to him. “So master elf, Bilbo did tell us that you were travelling the land, but not the reason behind your travel.”

Caranthir looked around the table, as all eyes turned to him, also curious as to the answer. Bilbo hadn’t asked mostly because he hadn’t thought it was appropriate for him to ask, but Lobelia had no such reservation and for once he was glad for her bluntness.

“I am travelling in search of my heart-song.” The elf started to explain, but right away all face turned blank, not knowing what Caranthir was talking about. “Do hobbits not have heart-song?”

“No. What are those?” Berylla said in her soft voice. Caranthir looked around the table as all hobbits shook their head and Legolas looked at him with interest.

“The best way to explain the phenomenon is to describe the heart-song as the music that fills us when we meet our soulmate.” All the lass’, including Lobelia, smiled softly now completely interested in the conversation.

“What kind of music?” Asphodel asked curious.

“It is said that to each elves the song is different. Some hear flute, some harp and one rare occasion it feel like an orchestra filled your head until nothing else can be heard but the song of your heart telling you’ve found the one person that will complete your soul.” Legolas’ hand was over his heart looking down at it with a frown. Bilbo, for his part, was blushing as Caranthir smiled at him looking straight in his eyes. Asphodel noticed and cleared her throat.

“Have you heard yours?” Bilbo felt the very strong urge to strangle his friend as Caranthir smiled turned slightly sad, his eyes never leaving Bilbo’s.

“Sadly no.  I have not had the joy of hearing the song of my beloved.” There was a brief stab of disappointment as Bilbo had almost wished the answer to be different, but it was fast gone as Legolas looked up at him with worry.

“Can an elf heart-song not be from the same species?” Bilbo asked softly. He could feel it in his bones, the same dread that had filled him from the moment he had adopted Legolas as his son. One day the blond elf would leave him, would probably do as Caranthir had done and travel the world. If elves had those soulmates, a person to complete them, a small part of Bilbo wished his son would find his, if only so he would not be alone when his father would pass.  

Bilbo had no illusion about the fact that his son would live much longer than he ever could. Hobbits might live longer than humans, but they still weren’t even close to the lifespan of elves. He simply wish for his son to never have to feel what Bilbo had felt at the death of his own parents, not feel so lonely, so abandoned. He pulled his son into a hug, pushing those thoughts away for the moment as Legolas snuggled against his father resting his head on top of the hobbit’s.

“It is very rare, but not unheard off, the elves most famous and loved stories are about those unlikely pairing that have change kingdoms and lives.” At the mention of stories even Lotho started to pay attention and the dark haired elf smiled clearing his throat. “Perhaps you would like to hear one of them?”

“Yes!... please.” Berylla asked as everyone else nodded in encouragement. Caranthir took a moment to gather his thoughts, choosing the best story he could think of, and his face turned serious and his face pensive as he started to recount the tell of his land.

“In the time of old, in a kingdom now known as Mirkwood, but long ago known under another name lived a young prince. He was a young elf, filled with the innocence of youth and the impatience of life only found in younglings who haven’t experience the harshness of life. Outside of his kingdoms were farm lands, where humans families from many generations lived. The young elf prince had been told many times that as humans they were of little importance, and had short life that to an elf was a blink of an eye, he shouldn’t bothered himself with them.

But the young prince did pay attention to the farmers, looking on as time passed, seeing them multiply. Seeing their children grow much faster than elves, seeing as family were formed and destroyed by war or famine. As time went by the farmlands went from the size of a small village to only two. He watched on as one of the owners married a young woman, watch on as she had children and grew older, until she was to only one left in the land. Nothing was left but her small house, her small garden and up in the hills, her husband grave. Curious the young prince finally decided to meet the human, since after her death they would be no humans left in the outskirt of his kingdom.

The old woman, with her hair completely white as snow, her eyes filled with knowledge and kindness from the life she had lived and her skin crinkled with the proof of the passage of time met his gaze, he heard the softest song filled with melancholy he had ever heard and started crying curling at the woman’s feet pleading with the gods to give him back the lost time.

The old woman allowed the young prince the time to grieve his loss, caressing his hair and listening to his laments until no more tears would come forth and silence enveloped them. She had seen her children grow, her husband die, she had seen a war, had witness the first steps of all of her grandchildren, her life had been hard but good where his was only starting.

They stayed together for five summers, the young prince learning from the older woman to appreciate the little moments in life, teaching him patience and sharing her life with him. She never allowed him to cry over lost years after their meeting, asking him to enjoy the time they had together instead of regretting the time they had lost. The time they shared together was to be enjoyed, their silence treasure and their looks preserved into his memories. The young prince accepted all those treasure as they were given to him.

When her time came to join her husband, he vowed never to love again, but she refused his promise wanting him to find the same happiness she had found in her life. She asked him to remember her, to cherish her, but to never deny himself life’s little pleasures by mourning her all his life. He promised as her last breath left her.

His heart-song died and silence filled his head. She was laid to rest on the hill next to her husband and he stayed by her grave for five days and nights before returning to his kingdom, the farmlands now empty of all life.

The young prince became a king and as time passed he married a young elven maiden and had children of his own, but he never forgot the old woman and enjoyed all the little moments in his life and taught his children the same lessons. When he was killed in a war taken down by enemies arrows, his wife and children honored his last wish and buried him next to his heart-song’s grave up the hill. He was finally reunited with her and now he could spent all of his afterlife with her.”

Silence reign in the kitchen as Caranthir’s tale came to an end. Lobelia quickly rubbed the corner of her eyes sniffing quietly as Asphodel’s hand rested over her heart. Bilbo was holding his son’s hand as Berylla and Lotho leaned against each other. The dark haired elf sighed softly.

“Not all elves ever find their heart-song, but my parents were fortunate enough to find each other and I wish to have that chance also. If my heart-song is somewhere out there I cannot wait for them to come to me, especially if we are not of the same species as I wish to spend as much time as I can with them.” Asphodel took the elf’s hand squeezing it lightly in comfort.

“I truly wish for you to find them.”

“Thank you greatly, it warms my heart to be surrounded by such warmth and acceptance.”

“You elves are always so dramatic.” Lobelia had to ruin the moment, trying to hide her feelings behind sarcasms. Bilbo gave her a long look but everyone else smiled knowing full well she didn’t mean it.

“It is the way we are raised to be.” Caranthir simply rolled with it and winked at Lobelia when she smiled at him. Clapping his hands together the older elf broke the spell that had settled on the group after his tale and motioned towards the living room. “I believed we have time for one more lesson before the sun goes down.”

The younglings grumbled their weak protests but still followed him out. Bilbo was starting to clean the table as his friends began chatting between themselves. He was just putting away the dishes when he caught a glimpse of Caranthir going down the corridor and using the backdoor to go into the garden. A peek over his shoulder confirmed that Lobelia and Asphodel were absorbed into their conversation so he exited the kitchen without a sound. Curious Bilbo peeked into the living room to see the youngling reading some elvish text the older elf had given them and follow the taller being outside.

Caranthir’s back was facing the hobbit as the elf watch the sun go down. Without a sound Bilbo placed himself at the elf’s side waiting until his presence was notice. “I wish I had heard your song…I am so tired…. so tired.”

Bilbo jumped, startled at the elf’s statement and looked up but Caranthir was looking at the setting sun, his face serious his gaze not really seeing anything. They stayed side by side in the silence until the sun was but a wink over the land and the sky was no longer filled with all the shades of pinks and purples it had to offer.

Bilbo had no idea how long the elf had been searching for the other half of his soul but from the look on the dark haired being’s face it had been far too long and a far too lonely search. He wasn’t sure what exactly in the hobbit had called to the elf, but Bilbo was glad it had allowed this being to take a rest from his quest. He was happy to see the elf’s smile and relaxed around his little family and friends, if only for a moment he wanted to be what Caranthir had been looking for… even if it was a lie.

When Caranthir kneeled before Bilbo searching the hobbit’s eyes, he didn’t protest when he was pulled closer and soft lips touched his. Bilbo hands moved to rest gently on the taller being’s shoulder not pulling or pushing and allowed himself this simple moment.

The kiss was soft, giving comfort; not asking for more than companionship and it was enough. To a hobbit that hadn’t felt such tenderness in all his life and an elf that had been wandering for so long looking for a dream that might not even exist; this kiss was a small kindness and a great treasure. When they parted neither said a word, just looking into each other’s eyes. A small tear rolled down the elf’s cheek that Bilbo kissed away allowing the silence to surround them.

“I am not your one, your heart-song.” Caranthir didn’t answer; it hadn’t been a question simply a statement. The elf gathered Bilbo close in his arms hiding his face in the croak of the hobbit neck .asking for comfort that he offered willingly.

They stayed like this as night fell and even when they heard voices from inside the house asking for them they didn’t move. Caranthir was the one to move first, pulling away from the hobbit and looking at him with grateful eyes. Bilbo kissed the elf on each eye, the tip of his nose and one final kiss to his lips. The dark haired elf kissed him back taking just as much comfort as Bilbo was from the kisses.

“I truly wish my quest could have ended with you master Baggins.”

“Thank you.” They moved away from each other slowly until they weren’t touching at all anymore and Bilbo walked back into the house to a panic Legolas who jumped on his father the moment he saw him. Asphodel and Lobelia didn’t comment when Caranthir walked back in a pleasant expression on his face.

This would be a long winter.

Chapter Text

Bilbo stared at the puddle at his feet.

 It was a small puddle, nothing special. It had been snow in the morning; slowly becoming water, as the midday sun grew warmer and it would be ice as the sun settled down for the night replaced by the cold moon. A simple puddle that was right under his feet. But he had seen more and more of them as time slowly passed. Each one a clear warning that spring was closing in trying to give back to the Shire her green hills and her fields of flowers.

 It was to be a happy warning; something to rejoiced the heart of all hobbits in the Shire. Telling all of them that those long cold nights by the fire would soon be replace by songs and flower crowns. But as Bilbo saw more and more of those puddles, he was only reminded that just as spring was approaching and winter leaving, soon someone else would leave the Shire. As for his feelings about that thought…he still wasn’t sure if they lay with sorrow or fondness.

 “Your head is in the clouds again Bilbo…or puddles in this case.” The hobbit looked up and smiles as Asphodel gave him a mug of tea and sat beside him. Opening an arm for her to snuggle under the warm blanket protecting him from the cold wind, his friend snuggled against his side with a grateful smile. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

 “Just thinking of the seasons and how spring is at our doors.” Asphodel rolled her eyes taking a sip of her drink and nodded toward the field facing them, where the dark elf and the little one were.

 “I see Legolas is still not warming to Caranthir.” Bilbo smiled despises himself. It would be so much easier to live with the two elves if they could get along better, but in many ways it reassured the hobbit to have his son so set in his dislike of the older elf.

 “Well at least I don’t have to worry about my son getting ideas of roaming the middle earth once spring comes.” His friend who had been about to take a sip of her tea chocked on the beverage and looked at Bilbo in horror and surprise.

 “WITHOUT YOU?” The two elves turned at the same time at her shouting, but she waved them off. Caranthir still seemed worried but smiled sweetly at the hobbit, while Legolas glared at the taller elf.

 The dark haired elf had been nice enough to show the little ones how to build bows and arrows and was in the process of teaching them the art of archery. Well mostly Legolas and Berylla who were showing off their new found skills on the shire youngling snowhobbit. Lotho for his part was once again a silent observer, nonetheless praising his friends when they achieved perfect aimed at smaller targets.

“Bilbo you’re an idiot.” Focusing back on his friend who was now able to breathe normally, Bilbo hummed softly in question. “Your son wouldn’t even step a foot out of the Shire without you, let alone follow any strange elf, that he despise, on an adventure.”

“He might wish one day to know his peoples.” It had always been in the back of the hobbit mind from the moment he had adopted the young elf. Legolas was different in every way, didn’t really fit in the Shire or wouldn’t have if not for his father fierce desire to give his child a happy childhood and his two crazy adoptive aunts. “Wouldn’t you be curious about hobbits if you had been raised by elves? Wouldn’t you want to travel and discover your roots?”

“I would! But I’m not Legolas Baggins.” Bilbo inclined his head not understanding her argument. “That child isn’t going anywhere without you Bilbo. Why do you think he has so few regards for Caranthir, when all he has done is show great patience to your temperamental son?”

“No one will ever be good enough for Legolas precious father?” Bilbo repeated sarcasticly remembering having had a similar conversation with Asphodel. His friend nodded slowly.

“And you’re not his one. Caranthir told us he was looking for his one, if he was to settle here and live with you, would you feel your heart was safe?” Bilbo allowed a moment of silence and shook his head, no he wouldn’t. His parents, from his souvenirs, had only ever had eyes for each other and he wouldn’t settle for a relationship where very new comer in the Shire could be someone to steal the man he loved. “See! Legolas came to same conclusion, if Caranthir stays, he’ll probably break your heart, and maybe not…you could die before he finds his true love.”

“Thanks for that wonderful thought.” The hobbit grumbled taking a sip of his cooling tea.

“And if Legolas was to leave the Shire without you…well he never would. He’d be too worried about leaving you alone.” Asphodel gave Bilbo a long look. “And you would die from anxiety knowing your precious son was all alone out there.”

Bilbo couldn’t even refute her argument, so he ignored her. Of course she was right. The hobbit would never be able to let his son go anywhere without him. He had witness firsthand the very night he had found his son the cruelty of the world outside the Shire, even thinking about the possibility that Legolas could encounter the same fate as his mother was enough to turn his blood cold.

“Like father, like son.” Asphodel singsong happily and he rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go see the children.” He jumped down from the bench he had been sitting on, ignoring the little yelp of surprise from his friend when the blanket was taken away from her and marched on. Asphodel quickly ran after him and punched him lightly.

“Avoiding the subject?” She asked sweetly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His friend giggled, but keep her mouth shut and she was thus allowed to come back under the blanket and walk side by side with Bilbo. They approached the little group under Lotho’s watchful gaze. The youngling had grown a lot during the winter and looked more like his grand-father every day.

“Legolas you need to concentrate. What do your elf eyes see?” Bilbo was startled at hearing Caranthir commanding tone. The dark haired elf was visibly frustrated which only seemed to in turn make Legolas just as frustrated. “Let your eyes focus, you need to allowed your body to accept the bow and arrow as an extension of you and it will go exactly where you want it to go. If you allowed it to be part of you in time you’ll be able to find your target without seeing it.”

“I can’t!” The young blond snapped turning away from the targets. Legolas saw his father and smiled happily coming to him and rubbed his nose against his father’s in greeting. “Good morning father.”

“Good morning, are you being difficult?” Legolas cheeks turned pink at his father tone and stuck his lip out pouting,

“No, I….”

“Yes he is.” Caranthir cut in. Before the young elf could defend himself the older one went on. “Legolas clearly as a stronger affinity with the bow and arrow, just like most of the elf of his physic do, but he is not allowing his instinct to guide his arrow.”

“I’m already better then Berylla, what more do you want?” The young lass gave her friend a dirty look for the remark and shot one of the snowhobbit in the heart with a huff, daring Legolas to say anything else.

“Berylla is doing very good, considering hobbits are not creatures used to handling weaponry and if you keep denying your elfin heritage she will surpass you in no time.” Asphodel grinned at Bilbo with pride at the praise to her daughter. The older elf was right of course, hobbits had never been a warring sorts and it was unusual, almost unheard off to see one of their kinds armed with something else then their wits. But Berylla had grown quite fond of her bow and was very dedicated to her lesson with the dark haired elf. “You’re an elf; there no use denying that you are different and you need to embrace that difference or you’ll always be missing a part of your natural heritage. I can feel the arrow ready to obey you; it will go to your target no matter how far or how small if you let it feel your intent. All of the greatest elfin archer’s were known to be able to shot an arrow at an enemy charging them from behind without ever having to lay eyes on them.”

All the hobbits, including Lotho, were looking at the dark haired elf with wide eyes. Legolas was looking at his bow with a frown clearly not sure if he should believe Caranthir. Bilbo was about to intervene when with a frustrated sigh the older elf pointed to the smallest of snowhobbit, it looked even smaller as it was much farther away than the others they had been using as targets.

“I want you to shot the red second button on that target.” Legolas eyes focused on the small defenceless snowhobbit and Bilbo saw his son eyes change ever so slightly focusing to make far away object look closer, at least that’s how the young blond had explained the phenomenon to his father when Bilbo had worried about his son eyes changing when he focused on far away object.

“Too far, my arrow won’t-“

“Do it or I’ll steal a kiss from your father.” Bilbo eyes turned to the older elf as he heard Asphodel half gasp, half giggle in shock. Berylla and Lotho were looking at their friend in worries, probably wondering is Legolas wasn’t simply going to turn and shot their teacher for even suggesting such a thing. Caranthir smiled serenely and took one step closer to Bilbo, who was to surprise to move. “I’m waiting.”

Legolas look toward his father for a brief moment and then took out an arrow placing it in position. The young elf eyes focused on the target, his position changing as his body seemed to make one with the weapon. Bilbo could see what Caranthir had been talking about in his son’s stance. There was something different in the way Legolas was handling the bow now that he was basically trying for an impossible shot. Well impossible for a hobbit. Every eyes were on the young elf, waiting to see what would happen.

Bilbo actually felt the change; it was nothing much just a small spark inside of him where he sometime felt his son and the bond he shared with him since his adoption. To this day the hobbit didn’t know if it was elfin magic or just whatever energy he had shared with his son when he was too weak to live without Bilbo’s essence, but it still flared to life once in a while. The moment Legolas seemed to accept the bow as a part of him, Bilbo felt it once again, and knew the moment the arrow was release without having to look.

Berylla gasped as the arrow flew to its target at a high speed and found its target without fail. Legolas lowered his bow with eyes wide, clearly surprised by what he had just felt and just achieved. Bilbo was about to praise his son, but warm fingers curled under his chin and his head was tilted up so that his lips could receive a warm soft kiss.

Caranthir eyes opened slowly as he leaned back from the kiss full of humour at Legolas very vocal indignation and Asphodel laughter.

“I HIT THE TARGET! LEAVE MY FATHER ALONE!” With one last kiss, Caranthir stood back up and hummed softly.

“Your aim was a little off, too much to the right. But please feel free to fail again, I do enjoy kissing your father.” Without taking his eyes away from the older elf, Legolas shot another arrow with a challenging look in his eyes that had the darker elf smiling in victory. “Much better, but…”

“Stay.” Another arrow was shot slipping the second arrow in half as it reach the target and Legolas started moving toward the older elf shooting an arrow to slip in half the previous with each words. “Away.From.My.Father.”

Humming softly Caranthir stole one last kiss and laughed at Legolas growl of frustration. “You’ve made one mistake.”

“WHAT? NO I DIDN’T!”

“You have no arrow’s left to defend your father’s honor.” Taking Bilbo’s hand the older elf kissed the back of it and moved back to the blond side. “Always know how many arrows you have left, your life or your father’s life could depend on it one day.”

As Caranthir walked away humming happily, Lotho and Berylla moved to their friend side and each took one of his hands in theirs. Legolas looked about ready to explode in rage and his fists held in his friend’s hands were shaking in rage. With a sigh at the sight of his son childishness Bilbo moved closer and since he couldn’t reach the tall elf face gently tapped on his son leg. Right away blue eyes focused on him and the young blond folded his tall frame to be at eye level with the hobbit. Lotho and Berylla stepped back, but not away just in case their friend needed them again.

“I hate him.” The young elf mumbled under his breath as Bilbo placed a gentle hand on his son cheek.

 “That may be so but he did teach an important lesson and…” Bilbo looked away for a moment at the retreating figure of the dark haired elf. “Caranthir is being very patient with you, at my request I might had, to have you learn about your culture.”

“Hobbit culture…”Bilbo’s glare cut off the young elf and Legolas lokked down unhappy.

“Is also important and very dear to me, but not the only one you should follow. What kind of father would I be if I wasn’t making sure you know your heritage? I would never forgive myself if you didn’t learn your mother heritage.” Legolas cheek turned pink in shame and he nodded.

“I’ll listen and learned…sorry.” With a little huff Bilbo leaned forward rubbing the tip of his nose to his son’s and smiled when the corner of the blond elf mouth curved up at the affectionate contact.

“That stubbornness of yours is all hobbit.” Lotho, Berylla and Asphodel all nodded at that making the elf laugh. “Why don’t you all go and enjoy the rest of the day? I’m sure those snowhobbit will still be there tomorrow to be torture by you three.”

Legolas hugged his father mumbling his apologies against the hobbit’s neck. Ruffling his son hair’s Bilbo accepted the blond elf bow and watch as all three youngling walked away to go enjoy themselves. Asphodel was at his side leaning against him with a little smile on her face.

“His stubbornness is all you by the way.” Pushing his friend gently Bilbo rolled his eyes and started to make his way to his house followed closely by Asphodel. “You’re a good father Bilbo Baggins.”

“I sure hope so.” His friend slapped him on the arm with a huff.

“You are! Your son is lucky that you’re making sure he knows where he came from and about his culture. Many hobbits would have simply been happy to let him be an overgrown hobbit.”

“Most hobbit would not have adopted an elf.” A deep voice cut-in and both hobbits turned to see Caranthir now walking beside them. The dark elf took the bow from Bilbo’s hands and slowed down his steps to make sure the hobbits wouldn’t have to run to keep up with him. “To be completely truthful I’ve never heard of an elf ever raising a child of another race, which makes you even more admirable to me Master Baggins.”

Bilbo was blushing furiously as the tall being gaze landed squarely on the blond hobbit with a glint of something resembling lust in them. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to notice as Asphodel chuckled tapping Bilbo on the shoulder to get his attention.

“You know, I do believe I’ve left the tea kettle over the fire, I really must go and….” Not even finishing her very transparent excuse Asphodel ran off leaving Bilbo to glare at the retreating back as he could clearly see her shoulder jumping in silent laughter.

“Traitor.” He mumbled under his breath with no illusion that with his bat like earing the elf heard him quite clearly.

They walk the rest of the way home in silence, Bilbo trying very hard not to stare at the elf and Caranthir seeming lost in thought. As they reached the door the tall elf moved to have one knee on the ground and placed a hand on the door stopping the hobbit from opening it. Turning around Bilbo found himself trapped between the tall elf hard chest and his door. Caranthir gently took Bilbo’s hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb still looking a little unsure as he finally met the hobbit gaze.

“This might be forward of me, but I have to ask this once, if your answer is not favorable I’ll not push it further.” The elf waited until Bilbo gave a nod. “I cannot be unfair and ask that you share your heart as I can’t promise mine in exchange, but I would be so bold as to request your affection for as long as you’ll wish.”

“…affection as in?” The hobbit asked quietly. He was rewarded with the returned of soft lips on his and the hand that had been holding his snaked around his waist pulling him closer. “Oh!”

Bilbo stood there with both hands against the hard chest of a truly beautiful elf and…actually took a moment to think. He did like Caranthir, not love, but liked the tall elf for his personality and the help he was providing in Legolas education. Falling in love with this particular elf would be a disaster, but enjoying his company wouldn’t.

“You know hobbits are creature of pleasure.” The dark haired elf tilted his head to the side but otherwise stayed quiet. “We like our food, our drinks and…good company.”

“Am I good company Master Baggins?” Since they were still outside Bilbo did take a moment to look around for prying eyes before placing his hands on the older being shoulder pulling him down.

“As long as I wish?” Caranthir smiled nodding. This time Bilbo was the one to initiate the kiss, enjoying the feeling of being held and feeling cherish in a different way that he was not used too. He could do this, this little concession that he would allowed himself while it lasted, because this he knew could not last. Accepting the elf in his life in that new capacity was easy, guarding his heart so it wouldn’t break would be harder, but for this small moment Bilbo thought it would be worth it. “I’ll take the good company.”

They stood apart only to rush inside and lock the door.

It would be fine if only for a little while. The rest Bilbo would deal with as it would come to pass.

Chapter Text

Until the very last of the snow had melted to give life to the spring flowers, Bilbo house was a peaceful one. Legolas and Caranthir entered a truce that seem to be designed to appease the hobbit and got along well enough. Bilbo wasn’t clueless to the effort his son was making to not be outright aggressive toward the older elf, but the glares didn’t lessen even if the words did. It was a dance of quiet communication between the blond and the dark haired elves, that was only broken for polite conversation and studies.

As the first red flower in the hobbit garden began to bloom announcing the returned of all of her multicolored sisters, the sun announce its longer return and animals that had slept all winter showed their little nose into the Shire. Everything was in bloom, including his still growing son that had taken the winter time to turn into a man, replacing the gangling youngling that had still been present when the first snow had appeared. Legolas was now fluent in elvish, conversing with his friends and father in the foreign language when they didn’t wish to be understood by the other habitants of the Shire. Lotho, Berylla and Legolas had started to hunt in the forest to practice their skills on moving target and Bilbo’s meat reserves had quadrupled in the last month of winter.

Caranthir waited until the last flower had bloomed before his eyes started to look beyond the Shire. Bilbo knew the end was coming and even if his heart was filled with sorrow he was welcoming the change. His time with the elf had been a pleasant one where he had found a companion to share his sorrow’s and doubts. But he had always known it would be a temporary companion, never expecting promises or words of love.

When the dark haired elf stood before him with his bags and a sad smile, Bilbo smiled back refusing to show any sadness. Legolas was standing behind them leaning against the house, a silent vigil.

“I could...” Caranthir started, but Bilbo shocked his head slowly.

“No, you couldn’t.” Bilbo heard his son huffing in annoyance behind them and appreciated that there was no comment to go with the show of disapproval. “The Shire was only a respite to your travel.”

There was a moment, however brief where Bilbo thought the elf would stay, let his bag fall to the ground and decide to make his life in the Shire, but one step after the other Caranthir made his way down the little path leading to the fence surrounding the hobbit’s home. Before the last step was taken those eyes that had been filled with love and laughter when directed at him during those long night where they had shared a bed turned to him one last time.

“I hope this isn’t goodbye Master Baggins.” Bilbo smiled gently.

“I hope not.” The taller being whispered something under his breath that the hobbit recognised as an elvish term of endearment and walked away, not turning back once.

Bilbo waited until he could no longer see the dark haired elf and walked inside follow closely by the tall shadow of his son. They stayed quiet as the hobbit made his way to the living room and sat in his favorite chair. Legolas move to the kitchen leaving his father alone with his thought.

He was sad; it was there in his heart the treacherous feeling just crawling in his heart. But there was no tear to be found for the departed elf. He had loved the company, the long night by the fire, the presence in his bed, the feeling of being wanted…but not the being. Caranthir he had liked, respected and appreciated, but it was a far cry to the romance depicted in those stories he used to read to the youngling. Far from what the dark haired elf had described as a fated soulmate. It had not been meant to be, Bilbo had known this from the start, but he did wonder if the elf hadn’t been expecting more.

Bilbo was pulled from his mind as the smell of his favorite tea filled the room and he looked up to find Legolas standing over him, presenting a warm cup of tea and some biscuit. With a smile he accepted the silent offering. Legolas moved to sit by his father chair leaning his head against the hobbit knee. They stayed silent enjoying each other presence as they had before. The moment Bilbo was done with the biscuit he used his free hand to play with the young elf hair, gently pulling at the long strands of golden sun kissed hair.

“Lotho and Berylla are talking about a summer wedding.” Stopping his movement, Bilbo looked down at his son, but couldn’t see his face.

“About time, Berylla has grown into a beautiful and strong young lass. No other hobbit then Lotho would survive her.” Legolas chuckled softly nodding and finally turned to face him, his chin on his father knee and his arms circling the hobbit leg in a loose hug.

“I’m happy for them, Lotho ask me to be his best man…but Berylla also wants me to be her bridesmaid.”

“You would look quite fetching in a dress.” The elf pinched his father leg lightly laughing.

“That’s what Lobelia said too. But I’ll stick to pants and just be there for the both of them.” Bilbo hummed nodding, still smiling at his son pink cheeks. He knew there was something else Legolas wanted to talk about, but he gave the young being the time he needed to find his words.

“Do…do you think I’ll ever find my one here?” Legolas asked shyly turning his face away from his father gaze once again.

Bilbo was actually surprised this subject was only brooch now, but it had allowed him to think about it and now knew what to answer.

“You’ve been thinking about the elves soul song a lot haven’t you?” He got a small nod and resume caressing his son hair to calm whatever was making Legolas nervous. “I want your happiness more than anything; you know that, nothing would make me happier then you finding that special person who makes your day so much brighter with only a smile. Should that person be hobbit or not, you can only hope to find them wherever they might be. If you need to leave the Shire to…”

Legolas pulled away fast, his face filled with panic as he looked at his father. “WITHOUT YOU!”

“No, no, no, sweetheart come here.” All Bilbo saw was a flourish of long limbs as his son moved back toward him almost sitting on his lap, trying as hard as he could not to crush his father, but clearly needing the reassurance of the hobbit presence. “Legolas, please breath for me, calm down.”

“I can’t…can’t leave you. You’re my only family; I don’t care about a soulmate if I have to leave you behind…alone.” There were tears in the elf eyes as he looked down at his father. The bond they shared was a strong one and the very idea of being separated from his father, the center of the connection that had kept him alive as a babe was too much for the youngling.

Bilbo had often wondered how strong the bond was to his son. In the hobbit case he always had a feedback of his son’s stronger emotion. It was always there in the back of his mind, like an afterthought. Bilbo also always knew where his son was, that he be in his room or hunting in the forest, he always could pinpoint exactly where his son was. It had been a little awkward when Legolas had been younger and had been sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. But he had never commented on it and always allowed the young elf his freedom. After all, Bilbo had also caused some mischief as a youngling, especially with Lobelia as a cousin. So he had allowed his son his childhood mistake.

But he had often thought that if it was a subdue feeling for the hobbit; it must have been much stronger for the elf. Elf in general seemed much more connected to the magic of Middle Earth and their sense. For the gods sake’s, music played in their head once they met their soulmate.

Patting the young elf head, Bilbo hummed softly under his breath as his son slowly calmed down curling his impossibly tall frame around the much smaller hobbit, while still surprisingly succeeding in not crushing Bilbo. Legolas head was resting on top of his and the hobbit could feel distress pouring out of his son, as the elf breathing calm down.

“I’m not leaving you or asking you to leave me.” The distress receded a little and Bilbo nuzzled against his son chest giving comfort. “But…if one day, you need to leave the Shire or feel the desire to look for someone to share your life. I’ll go with you.”

“You would leave the Shire? For me?” Well that was a stupid question. Bilbo rolled his eyes, knowing full well his son would feel his annoyance.

“Yes, of course. Legolas, sweetheart, there’s not much I wouldn’t do to make sure you’re happy. Leaving the Shire to ensure you find someone to spend the rest of your life with if not that big of a sacrifice. Plus I would very much like to meet them and make sure they take good care of you.” Because I won’t always be there to do so, was left unsaid. Hobbit didn’t live as long as elf, everyone in middle earth who knew what hobbit were that is, knew that fact. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice for Bilbo to leave the Shire if it meant his son had a connection to someone else that would keep him happy and alive.

“I love you.” Legolas mumbled softly under his breath.

“I love you too.” Bilbo answered easily. He could feel the love flowing freely from his son and really what kind of parent would he be if he didn’t make sure his child was happy.

They stayed seating together until the sun went to sleep and the moon was shining in the sky. It was a full moon illuminating the Shire in her white gentle glow. Not feeling the need to sleep, the elf and the hobbit walked around the Shire, silent in the night, talking softly and looking at the moon.

In a quiet moment, Bilbo silently thanked the moon who had, so long ago, illuminated his life with the elf walking next to him.

Chapter Text

Regrets was not something Bilbo knew well. He had some small ones like everyone and some fleeting ones he could no longer remember, but for the first time in his life he had too many to count.

He regretted greeting Gandalf, he regretted talking to the tall treacherous wizard, he regretted opening his door to an army of very ill-educated dwarves…he regret all of his life choices since waking up that morning, if even the tiniest of choices had led to this level of chaos.

His home was filled with muddy booth print; he had even found one on the ceiling. The dwarves were in the middle of raiding his pantry, taking all the meat from Legolas hunting and all the fruits and vegetables he had grown in his little garden. All of his hard work was eaten away by hungry mouths. He wouldn’t have been as mad as he was about some stranger eating his food, hobbits were after all big eater that didn’t mind a good party and sharing their food, but for the fact that a lot of the food was ending up on the floor or in the dwarves beard. That was such a waste.

He had been told he was to be their burglar, ignoring his protest and questions, had been given a contract asking to sign away his life. But the worst of all was the quiet and happy looking wizard who had orchestrated the whole thing sipping tea at HIS table, like it was the most normal thing to do.

Bilbo was fuming with rage and petrified by shock, it was the weirdest combination of feeling he had ever felt and couldn’t concentrate on anything that was being said around him. Until that was, blissful silence fell on the room.

Bilbo looked up from the contract saying he would probably be burned alive to see that all the dwarves had their hands on their weapons and Gandalf looked, finally, perturbed. Looking up and behind him, Bilbo saw the reason. Standing tall and emitting a wall of pure cold rage, was a cloaked figure, holding a bow and arrow pointing directly had the chief of the dwarves…Thorin, if the hobbit remembered all of the dwarf’s names correctly.

“No weapon in the house.” Everyone in the room jumped at the quiet voice. The two younger dwarfs’ eyes never left the cloaked threat but they did move closer to Thorin. The tall figured growled unhappily in response. “No.weapon.in.the.house.”

The cloak flapped angrily as the figure whirled around and away. Feeling more centered now that his son was back, Bilbo folded the contract, placed it on the table next to Gandalf and poured himself a cup of tea. The dwarves gazes were moving from the door to the hobbit, waiting to see if the little being would explain. It was Gandalf who dared speak.

“Bilbo, dear friend, who was that?” The hobbit scoffed in his cup.

“Dear friend .” Sweeping his hand across the room to enclose all of the destruction, Bilbo looked at the wizard dead in the eyes and glared. ”A dear friend, would not have invited chaos into my house.”

“Well I…” The wizard words died on his tongue as Legolas walked into the room, without his cloak and looking quite angry. The tall elf took an apple that had escaped the food carnage and walk to his father side bumping his nose against Bilbo’s in greeting. Returning the greeting Bilbo smiled happily at the tall bond before returning his cold glare to the wizard.

“A dear friend, wouldn’t have made my father feel so much distress I had to come back home at once.” Legolas growled under his breath.

For the first, since he had met the wizard, Bilbo saw shock and uncertainty in Gandalf’s face.

It.was.bliss.

The dwarves on the other hand looked in shock. None of them were moving their eyes fixed on the elf ears and blond hair. Thorin in particular looked seconds away from exploding, his entire face was white, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open like he wanted to speak but couldn’t remember how to use his tongue. After the songs and chaos it was a nice sight. Ignoring them all, as one should when face with rude company, Bilbo turned back to his son with a smile.

“How was the hunt?” Legolas folded himself to reduce his height and smiled at his father telling him all about it.

“Lotho got two rabbits, Berylla four and I got a deer.” Bilbo had to smile at the pride in his son’s voice. Someone cleared their throat and both son and father turned around.

“Bilbo….your son is an elf.” Gandalf sounded a little unsure. Bilbo and Legolas exchanged a look.

“Is he? I thought he was an overgrown hobbit!” The elf giggled as the hobbit placed a hand over his heart and gasp. He was over trying to be polite and courteous. “Really Gandalf, you would know this, if the last time you visited you had actually taken the time to ask.”

“MIRKWOOD! ELF!” Bilbo jumped back as Thorin finally seemed to have found his voice and was pointing at the elf his eyes filled with fury. Bilbo was about to answer, but the next word stopped him. “ELVEN SCUM!”

Now hobbits are not violent creature, usually capable of arming their adversary with words instead of weapons. But since words failed him, Bilbo threw his fuming cup of tea at the dwarf with all his strength and watch calmly, has the little cup found its mark and shattered on the dwarf forehead drenching him with hot tea.

Everyone jumped on their feet, Gandalf and Legolas included, as Bilbo stayed seated looking on as Thorin’s forehead started to bleed and the room exploded with shouts.

“YOU LITTLE…” Thorin voice was a booming canon of anger.

“Careful what you say, I still have a teapot.” Bilbo said softly. But he was still heard perfectly fine as everyone took a step back except for the elf that moved closer. The hobbit saw the glint of a blade to his right and sigh. “No weapon in the house.”

“Father!” The hobbit clicked his tongue and held out his hand. Legolas hesitated only a moment and placed the butter knife in his father hand. Thorin watched the exchange in silence, confusion on his face.

“He’s a Mirkwood elf.”It was more of a mumbled growl, but Bilbo got the meaning and hatred behind the words just fine.

“He’s my son and a Shire elf.” The dwarf was opening his mouth, but the moment Bilbo’s hand touched the teapot he stopped, clearly about to say something that would have sent the flowery porcelain teapot flying. “I will not tolerate your hatred toward my family, when I have opened, unwillingly, my house to your company and my pantry, unwillingly, to your hungry stomachs. Just as I believe you wouldn’t take kindly to anyone bad mouthing the two younglings currently hiding behind you.”

Said youngling, looked at him from behind Thorin massive frame looking impress. If Bilbo was analyzing their look of awe, Thorin was not a dwarf often confronted or questioned.

“Mirkwood elves are…”

“Teapot.” Bilbo said with a smile.

“…not viewed in the best regards by my people.” Thorin finished quickly.

“How nice then, that as I’ve said before, Legolas is a Shire elf. “ Thorin seemed in the mood to argue, but his gaze kept going to the teapot lying before the hobbit. It was Gandalf that decided to break the tension, seeming to have found some of his composure and now looking intrigued.

“Why don’t we discuss this like civilized and polite being in the living room Master Baggins?” Bilbo nodded making a point of taking the teapot and extra cups as he moved to the living room. He was followed closely by the wizard and the dwarf. Legolas seemed a little unsure at letting his father leave with the tempered dwarf.

“Legolas, would you be so kind as to show our guest where they can wash and settle for the night? I’m sure they would appreciate a dry place to sleep and some clean water to wash.” From the furious nodding of heads coming from the company, Bilbo had been right and they all followed the tall blond without a complaint.

Once in the living room, Bilbo indicated for them all to sit and left for a moment coming back with hot water and a clean cloth. He moved to Thorin side and when the dwarf showed no indication of cleaning the blood on his forehead, the hobbit rolled his eyes and cleaned it himself.

“What!?....” Thorin startled and tried shooing the hobbit hands away. Slapping the dwarf hand, Bilbo clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Oh hush! You might be thickheaded, but I can’t be a graceful host if I let you bleed on my carpet.”

“You threw the cup!” The dwarf half shouted, like he had any right to be angry when he had deserved his injuries and Bilbo was the one who had lost a perfectly good tea cup that belonged in his cutest tea set.

“You insulted my son.” Bilbo didn’t miss a beat and resume cleaning the wound.

“I…” Thorin started but Gandalf stopped him with a sharp look. “Was taken by surprise.”

“Speaking of your son Bilbo, how did you end up the father of an elf?” Gandalf asked softly.

“Well…” As he told the tale, Bilbo finished taking care of Thorin, served them some tea and started a fire to keep them warm as the night had grown chillier. Once he was done the house was quiet except for the sound of dwarves snoring.

As silence fell, Legolas came in bumping his nose with his father looking a little tired.

“They scattered around the house, but Fili, Kili and Ori are in my room.” Thorin perked up at that suddenly alert.

“Why?” The suspicion was heavy in the dwarf voice, but before Bilbo could even think of having more porcelain flying, icy blue eyes turned to Thorin and Legolas crossed his arms using his height to tower over the smaller being. Something he never did having been raise by beings smaller then him and usually knowing to respect them, instead of trying to intimidate them with his height.

“Because…” Leaning forward his son smiled sweetly.”Kili and I have bonded over archery, Fili is simply adorable, Ori wants to question me about the Shire lifestyle and we’ve all four decided to share tales of our culture instead of bickering over our race.”

Bilbo had to kill his giggle under his hand and Gandalf brought down his hat to hide his face. Thorin for his part didn’t seem to know what to say and watched as Legolas walked out of the room bidding them goodnight.

“Your elf…”

“Son.” Bilbo corrected quickly.

“Your son isn’t like the elves I’m used to interacting with.” There was no judgment there, so the hobbit allowed the comment to go without a reply. “Elves back home…are…rotten.”

There was so much anger and resentment in the last word that Bilbo took a moment to really look at his guest. He would never let anyone speak ill of his son, but this hatred that the dwarf was displaying toward elf seemed much more than simple prejudice that some race bared toward the elf in general. It had never escaped the hobbit that most of the race in Middle earth had animosity toward the long living elf and their gifts. Every time Bilbo brought his son to the village and it was shown that Legolas was indeed of the fair race, there had been glares and hushed insults. He had protected Legolas as much as he could, but was secured in the fact that his son had the temperament of a hobbit, which meant he would always have the right word ready to defend his honor and stand proud when confronted with harsh words.

“Speaking of your home.” Better to change the subject for now. “You’ve given me that contract expecting me to sign off my life to your cause, but as you can see I have a son and a life here. I can’t just hop and go on an adventure, hobbit do not go on adventure in general.”

“Yes, it would seem the information given to me by Gandalf, might not have been based on facts but hopes.” The two smaller beings looked to the grey man and Gandalf had the decency to look a little flustered.

“I might have been missing some facts.” Gandalf amended. “But with the new one presented to us, it would seem Master Baggins that your presence and that of your son would be beneficial to all and an excellent opportunity for your son.”

“How so?” Bilbo asked soflty.

“We will be making our way to Rivendell once we leave to Shire to meet with Lord Elrond, it would be safer for you and your son to travel with a larger group and you might decide once there to stay with us for the rest of our quest, instead of coming back to the Shire.”

Bilbo took a moment, looking at the flames and mulling it over. It would be a good opportunity to take Legolas to an elven community and it would be long before they would have a chance to travel with a group, as very few travelers made their way’s to Rivendell. He was fairly certain Gandalf was hiding something from him. The grey wizard had fallen very contemplative after Bilbo had explained how he had acquired an elf as a son and it was not the most comforting of knowledge.

“Tell me about your quest.” Bilbo prompted gently.

Thorin deep soothing voice washed over the hobbit as he explained what had happened to his people and most importantly about the dragon. It was distressing to say the least, but at the same time the hobbit compassion stopped him from refusing then and there to help the group of dwarves who had lost everything. Gandalf stayed quiet lost in his thought and when at the end of the tale, Bilbo let out a sigh and looked pensively at the dwarf, the wizard was half asleep already.

“Let’s talk in the morning, it’s late and I do believe you two need some rest. If what you’ve told me is all true and I do believe it is. Rest here for as much as you need. I’ll give you my answer tomorrow.” Thorin nodded and Gandalf stretched his old body with a yawn.

On his way to his room Bilbo stopped to peek inside Legolas bedroom and wasn’t surprised to find three young dwarves sleeping in his son’s bed, but no trace of the elf. He spared a look for the trio all snuggled up together in the big bed and felt a little sadness at having such young being already on the path of war. Middle Earth was peaceful at time, but Bilbo had no illusion that out of all of Middle Earth the Shire was probably the only part of it that had never seen war. Hobbits simply were not the warring type and their main weapons had always been their tongue.

Walking in his room, Bilbo crawled into bed settling his head on his son stomach not fooled by the blond closed eyes and peaceful face. That only meant he had been concentrating all of his attention on spying on his conversation with the dwarf and the wizard.

“How much did you hear?” Bilbo asked softly.

“Enough. Are you thinking about it? Going on an adventure.”

“They lost their home, their family and everything they knew and held dear was taken away, leaving them with no hopes. Thorin is trying to give his peoples their hopes and homes back, even when it seems like a lost cause. I can respect that.”

“And Rivendell?” Bilbo looked at the young elf, but Legolas still had his eyes closed.

“It would be a good opportunity for us to meet elves without having to travel alone. We could decide if we continue with the group or go back to the Shire once there.” Legolas hummed softly. “I’m leaving the final decision to you.”

The silence stretched, Bilbo head feeling heavy as sleepiness slowly gain over his desire to stay awake. Legolas moved only once to pull the covers over his father, but otherwise didn’t move allowing the hobbit to use him as a pillow.

Too soon the first ray of the sun started showing, Bilbo felt his son moving and opened his eyes to see Legolas moving to his desk to take out some paper.

“Whatchadoin?” He mumbled grumpy with lack of sleep.

“Writing a letter to aunt Lobelia…I just hope she won’t receive it before were done crossing the forest or she might come to hunt us down for leaving without telling her.”

Well they were going on an adventure then.

Chapter Text

Legolas had left early in the morning, when the sun was barely peeking over the hills of the Shire, to accompany Gandalf on his quest to find enough poneys to accommodate the travel of the whole company through the forest. The dwarves had followed soon after breakfast or what Bilbo was silently referring to as the final blow to his once perfectly labeled, organized and plentiful pantry. His futur companions had made sure no food would be left to root in his absence, not even leaving crumbs for the mice to pick at.

Still as a good Hobbit, he took a moment to pass the broom in every room, dusting off the shelves and making sure his home still looked proper. Even if the adventure he was about to embark in was anything but the actions of a good hobbits.

His son had already packed his bags before leaving. An easy light thing that would make his journey less heavy. But compare to the elf, that seemed to repulse dirt and dust everywhere he went, Bilbo felt he needed a bigger much more practical bag. He needed cooking supply, journals and pens to document his journey, enough clothes to cover the journey ahead (even though he had no idea of the time it would take). His bag once done was not small or light, but he would sooner die prepare for any hurdle than without his kettle for his afternoon tea.

Placing his bag next to the door, Bilbo took a moment to walk one last time into each room, imprinting into his brain the house where he had raised his son. A part of his heart seemed to know something he didn’t want to voice aloud and pushed him to make sure he remembered the Shire like it was the last time he would see it. Silly really, but as all the souvenirs of his past self floated before his eyes in each room, he had to admit it was a possibility. He might not see his house again and this might be his last moment in the Shire that had seen him and his son grow.

With a sigh and a smile, Bilbo moves back to the front door and secured his bag over his shoulder. The definitive sound of the key locking the door seemed to resonate into the quiet morning.

« Bilbo Baggins! » At the shout the Hobbit jumped and turned around so fast the kettle and pans banged and clanged against each other in a loud cacophony. His subtle exit plan was completely ruined as the sound echoed all over the empty and still very sleepy Shire. His eyes landed on the cause of this early alarm and Bilbo took a step back flinching at the glare leveled at him.

« Good morning Asphodel. » The little lass standing before him was the perfect image of furry. Fist on her hips, glare in her eyes and her feet planted into the ground like she was expecting a fight. If she had been armed Bilbo would have been worried for his life. « Lovely morning isn’t it? »

« Drop the pleasantries Baggins! I saw Legolas walk out of the Shire with the Grey Wizard early in the morning. I didn’t think much of it, but saw YOUR son place and letter in my mailbox and….I knew!” Asphodel took in a deep breath and Bilbo was fully expecting a fight now, but to his surprise the lass seemed to loose her will to yell at him and ended her breath in a sigh. “I knew you would go with him, but I wasn’t prepared for it. My heart wasn’t prepared for what my head knew.”

“Oh my sweet.” Bilbo dropped his bag, to hell with the peace of the Shire, he would alarm all of them with the banging and clanging of his bag if it meant he could hug his dear friend…for maybe the last time. “ I can’t let him go alone and…”

“He won’t leave without you. I know you’re doing it for him, all you do is for him. I have a child too Baggins I know why you’re doing this, I understand why you’re doing this and I support your decision. I’ll just miss you both so much.”

The hobbit couldn’t speak, couldn’t utter a sound other than a choked agreement that sounded more like a whimper. They hugged each other for what felt forever, but would never be long enough at the same time. The lass was the first to gently push Bilbo away, she placed her hand on his cheek scanning his face trying to make sure she would remember all his wrinkles and sun kissed features. The hobbit did the same and kissed her hand as she took it away.

“Go, he waits for you.” He nodded, she knew he couldn’t be the one to break this moment and was giving him her permission to leave the Shire. Bilbo hadn’t known he needed that permission, it was like a weight had been lifted of his heart and he could breath easier. “I’ll hold off Lobelia as long as I can, but once she founds out you left, you better pray you are far far away or she might just drag you back by the ears and never let you go again.”

A scoff escaped Bilbo lips, but he knew his friend was only half jesting. His cousin would indeed not be pleased at his decision to adventure and would fight an horde of orcs with her rolling pin if it meant she could lecture Bilbo. With one last nod and hug Bilbo picked up his bag and walk the path to his front gate not trusting his eyes not to tear up if he was to look back at his friend one last time.

“You better write once you find safe haven Baggins! At least let us know you’re….both alive.”

As expected the moment Bilbo looked back to nod and show his friend that would keep that promise with a smile, his eyes allowed his tears to fall freely. Asphodel wasn’t much better,  tears streaking down her rosy cheeks.

Turning back quickly, Bilbo picked up the pace, his feet going faster and faster as the Shire flew passed his blurry sight, a mix of greens and browns that just melted away as he finally reached the entrance to the forest. Taking in a deep breath Bilbo took a moment to regain control over his emotions. He needed this moment of quiet, letting the morning sun kiss his tears away and allowing the fresh air of the Shire to fill his lungs easing his sadness and bringing back some peace to his mind. He had never thought of leaving the Shire before Legolas had entered his life.

He never regretted his decision to keep the young elf, but the moment those clear blue eyes had look into his he knew his life would never be the same and a part of him had always knew he would one day leave the Shire for his son. The fact that he would also be helping the dwarves was a nice extra push to move his feet forward, they wouldn’t be alone, they had a goal and it was enough.

Has he approached the group of dwarves, with the two taller figures taking care of the horses and poneys, he could see his son’s face turned toward him and could physically feel the frown that was most definitely on the elf face. Most likely a result of all the emotions Bilbo was feeling, his son whole body was turned toward the hobbit, probably fighting not to run to his father and make sure he was alright. It made Bilbo smile, it would be alright, they would be together and it was enough.

As he approached the group, dreading his first ride on one of those beast, Bilbo noted a mathematical error. There was as many poneys as there was dwarves, but none for one Bilbo Baggins. He looked around but where most of the dwarves were avoiding his gaze, Fili and Kiki seemed quite excited and grinning like loons. The duo was sitting on their respective poneys looking from the elf to the hobbit like kids waiting for a puppet show in front of a bright tent.

His son was standing next to a beautiful cream and soft grey colored horse shuffling from one feet to the other. Bilbo stopped in front of him and looked up tilting his head to the side on a silent question.

“Legolas Baggins, what did you do?” The grey wizard let out a scoff but looked away quickly when his son shoot him a pointed glare. Seeming to make a decision, his tall son folded himself so he was eye level with his father and quickly rubbed his nose to the hobbits taking comfort into the small contact.

“The man who sold us the horse said….he told us…hummm.” There was distress in the elf eyes, so Bilbo looked toward the older man with raised eyebrows. What exactly had happened for his son to be in this state.

“The man told us to be careful with the poneys since an inexperience rider might easily fall and hurt themselves.” Gandalf recited still not looking at them.

“…he said break their necks.” Legolas commented under his breath taking Bilbo attention back to clear blue eyes full of conflict. It suddenly made sense to Bilbo, but it also brought so many more questions.

“So…will I be walking to our destination?” The elf eyes darted to his horse and back to his father quickly but not quickly enough for Bilbo to miss it.”Ah! I see. Wouldn’t falling from higher up be more dangerous?”

A brief look of utter disbelief flashed across his son face at the question. 

“I would never let you fall father!” Legolas now looked indignant at the very thought of it, so Bilbo placed a hand on his son cheek with a soft smile.”I would never let you get hurt.”

The elf was now pouting, which was adorable, so Bilbo nodded knowing very well that his son would sooner break all the bones in his body than let the small hobbit get so much as a paper cut. Looking up at the calm horse, at least the elf affinity to animal was helpful in this case, since the hobbit felt no nervousness from the giant beast who was quietly waiting for its riders. The poneys were moving around impatient to be on their way, in comparaison Bilbo wasn’t too mad at not having to mount one of the more tricky animals by himself. Not that he would have refused to mount the wild little beast, but given the option, the calm giant standing still next to them seemed like a much better choice.

With a silent agreement the hobbit gave his bag to the elf and watch has it was secure to their horse. Once done Legolas nervousness came back strongly enough that he could feel it. He could also feel all the dwarves eyes on him and understood why the two younger dwarves had been so interest in the father son duo. They were all wondering how the hobbit would embark on the much too tall beast. Bilbo of course already knew the answer and wasn’t so much looking forward to it, but he could imagine that the scene of an hobbit trying to climb such a horse would awaken some glee and curiosity in the dwarves.

Legolas had grown much taller than all hobbits living in the Shire at a very young age and as Bilbo had discovered quite quickly elf may look frail but they were in fact much stronger than they looked. It was easy for the blond elf to pick up hobbits like it was nothing and it had caused some accidents when his son was younger. Nothing alarming but it had been a necessity to make sure that unless it was an emergency or with explicit consent (like if the little ones wanted to be carried by the taller elf or thrown to the sky during a game it was all fine and well). When it came to his father specifically, Legolas was particularly careful, preferring to fold himself to be eye level with his father than to even think of lifting the hobbit of the ground. Bilbo knew it was out of respect to him and had always found it quite endearing how his lovely son would drop to the ground at any moment if it meant he could be closer to the hobbit who had raised him.

“Are we all ready to go! We must depart while we have sunlight and good weather!” Thorin loud voice broke the silence and Bilbo look toward his son with a smile to reassure him.

Without fuss and as quickly as he could the elf lifted the hobbit and placed him on top of the horse. Bilbo barely had time to find his balance that the elegant blond elf jumped easily behind him stabilizing the smaller being with his legs and an hand secure around his father waist.

“Are you alright father?” Bilbo looked up and behind him into worried blue eyes. The dwarves, Fili and Kiki in particular, who had probably expected more of a fuss from the hobbit turned their poneys to follow Thorin’s who had started to make his way on the path. They had only seen the fiery side of the small hobbit and had clearly expected much more of a fuss over the horse, but really, Bilbo trusted his son’s decision and knew it had come from a desire to keep the small being safe and comfortable.

“I am, thank you.” Legolas bumped his forehead to the top of the hobbit head and motion his horse to close rank on the convoy. The grey wizard passed them, exchanging a look with Bilbo before making his way to join Thorin at the front. The grey horse stride was a nice rythme that didn’t require much balance from the hobbit and Legolas was making sure that his father was secure and not shaken by the ride. 

Kili and Fili moved to be on each side of the elf chattering away. Legolas answered some of their questions getting sucked into their arguments.

Letting the sound of the young ones wash over him and feeling safe enough to lean against the chest behind him knowing that he was secure, Bilbo decided to enjoy this moment of peace.

Chapter Text

To Bilbo surprise and delight the day they spent ridding into the woods were for the most part peaceful. On days when they had a good night of sleep the dwarves would happily discuss between themselves and fill the silence of the forest with their stories. But on days after a rougher night, after rain or a particularly cold night, his companions would be almost half asleep on their pony’s fighting with themselves to stay seated on their ride and not just fall asleep right then and there.

Every night before setting up camps Legolas would melt into the woods to perform a routine check and make sure they weren’t any other creatures close by that cold attack them during the night. So far they had encounter one very grumpy bear, that had forced the company to move farther away, but nothing to worrying. Every time his son disappears into the woods, the hobbit would found himself with a new shadow. Bilbo wasn’t sure when that agreement had been made, but it happened without failed. The moment Legolas moved a certain distance away from his father, Bilbo would have a dwarf by his side. Fili and Kili came as a pair that dragged the hobbit with them to do their chores. Ori, when he was in a talking mood would happily take over and ask the hobbit about the Shire legends and stories. When spending time talking with Ori, Bilbo had noticed that the whole camp became quieter and seemed to get lost in the stories he shared with the young dwarf. The most surprising one was Dwalin, it didn’t happen often, but the first time it happened Bilbo had almost yelled in surprise has the tall dwarf had slipped behind him without a sound and then proceeded to quietly follow the small being all over camp without a word.  

On even rarer occasions like this night, Thorin was standing next to Bilbo helping him take care of the pony’s and making sure they were alright. The road they had taken that morning had been particularly rocky and slippery, so when they had encountered a small plateau with a clearing and fresh grass the vote to spend the night here had been unanimous. Legolas has usual has gone into the woods beyond the clearing to scout the area and Bilbo had found himself lulled into the quiet task of brushing their four legged companion with the comforting shadow of Thorin at his side.

The sun had long gone down when he realized how much time had passed. Bilbo looked around expecting that his son had come back from the exploration and was now in a heated discussion with one of the brothers. But he couldn’t see the tall blond anywhere. Gandalf had left earlier in the day on one of his mysterious errand leaving the camp perplexed, but no one had been particularly surprised by the wizard wandering ways.  The fact that Legolas wasn’t back yet, however made the hobbit pause.

Something wasn’t right.

Looking toward the forest, the hobbit moved to the edge of the grass, not quite reaching the deep and dark shadows of the trees, but close enough to be able to peer into its darkness. His son, as an elf, had a way of melting in shadows, like they ate him whole completely absorbing the pale blond elf until he was part of the shadows himself. Bilbo wanted more than anything to see those very shadows that now looked so menacing to him to melt away and reveal his son. But the more he peered into the growing darkness the more his feeling of dreed rose inside his heart. Instinctively he reached to his side and was surprised when a strong grip met his hand. Looking to his side from the corner of his eye, he didn’t want to fully turn his back to the forest, it seemed to wait for him to look away, it seemed alive with hunger.

“What is it hobbit?” Thorin voice sounded too loud to the smaller being even thought it had only been a whisper. The camp behind them had also fallen quiet. The king of the dwarves’ other hand was now resting on this sword feeling the tension in the hobbit by the tight grip Bilbo had on his hand.

“Listen.” Bilbo’s voice was quiet, the word escaping his lips in a short breath. He felt more than saw the dwarf next to him tense.

“I hear nothing.”

“Exactly.” Tearing his eyes away from the shadows with great pain, the hobbit met Thorin eyes and he saw the understanding and panic creep in them. They couldn’t hear a sound, the forest was quiet, not a bird, not a bug, nothing was moving, nothing…it was like the silence before battle when the air stood still and all you could hear was the blood rushing into your veins. All the dwarves were staying still knowing the feeling and not sure where the danger would come from.

Just as Bilbo heart felt like it would burst out of his chest from the tension, a movement caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head sharply. Thorin sword was unsheathed in the blink of an eye as he followed the hobbit gaze. Out of the shadows, melting away from the tall figure, the moon shone between the clouds and revealed blond hair and pale skin.

Pale blue eyes meet theirs and the elf finger touched his lips, has his other hand came up to stop the hobbit from running to him. Moving fast, Legolas came to their side and lower himself to be at eye level with the dwarf still holding Bilbo’s hand.

“Trolls, three of them, they’ve caught our sent and will move soon...we need to go now.” Bilbo felt his blood freeze in his body has Thorin immediately released his hand and moved back to the camp to give his orders. Legolas pulled his father into a quick hug, before pushing him forward. “I’ve tied my cape up wind farther away to distract them, they may be stupid but I don’t know how long that’ll distract them before they move back in our direction.”

For the first time, the hobbit noticed the missing cape, Legolas keep on pushing the smaller being forward until they had reached their horse and didn’t waste any time placing his father on top of the horse. From up his perch, he could see the camp moving in panic but still staying as quiet as possible. The elf moved to Thorin side whispering something to him, probably about the use of his cape and Bilbo saw a flash of respect in the dwarf eye that had never before been directed toward his son by the elves hating king. The young ones were sent ahead of the group with most of the supplies as the older member tried to erase any sign of their passage. Everyone was moving as fast as they could climbing up the side of the mountain on a small ridge barely large enough for the pony’s, let alone Legolas horse, trying to get away from the clearing and downwind so their smell wouldn’t pin point their location to the trolls.

They finally reached an open area where they could still see the clearing they had just left, but with the wind blowing in a different direction and a rock formation that would hide their camp. Everyone moved in silence to make sure the pony’s were safe and out of the way. Legolas moved among them making sure they stayed quiet and in their designated spot. Bilbo had been taken down from the horse and was about to go help to set up the camp when he heard it for the first time.

A great lament from the forest below, something too big for the trees to accommodate was moving, pushing its way through the tightly wound foliage and making the top of the trees shudder upon their passage. He could see the path they were taking toward the clearing they had only just vacated. A strong hand came upon his shoulder and the smaller being was pushed down into the shadows to the rocks surrounding them. Dwalin, the big dwarf gaze never left the forest, a frown marring his thick brows has he observed the trees with great focus. Other dwarves moved to their side, armed and ready, waiting to see if they would need to fight, if they were safe or if they would need to be ready to run. Legolas had moved to the side of the cliff climbing where only an elf could find balance, hiding in the rocks, bow and arrow at the ready.

Time stood still as the forest keep on shuddering below them. Finally, one of the trolls breached the forest and Bilbo’s hand moved over his mouth to cover his gasp. He had read about trolls, had heard stories, but nothing had prepared him for the sheer size of them. The great beast stood tall weapon in hand as his gaze travelled across the clearing and his companions joined him. The company could hear the grumbling of the troll’s voices as they argued with each other moving swiftly around and sniffing the air. One of them looked their way and all freeze not daring to make any movement that would attract the monster’s attention to them.

After what seemed like an eternity, the trolls moved back into the forest, their loud voices complaining about a missed hunt. Still nobody moved until the forest stopped shuddering and they all saw the telltale sign of a fire being lit. They knew where the trolls were, to close for Bilbo’s comfort, but at least far enough that they wouldn’t be caught by surprise if the trolls decided to move again.

They all stayed frozen for a moment more, just to be sure it was safe to move and no trolls had stayed behind waiting for any sign of life. Not that the creatures had look that smart to begin with, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Legolas came back down from his perch and was greeted by a surprisingly firm grip on his arm by Thorin.  

“Thank you…just…” The dwarf took a moment and taking a deep breath really looked into the elf blue eyes showing he was actually grateful for his presence. “Thank you Legolas.”

The rest of the company was quick to congratulate the young elf and even made sure to give him an extra serving once it was time to eat. Bilbo for his part calmed his still fast beating heart and was more than happy to let his son get as much praised as possible for his bravery.

Sitting next to the elf, Bilbo was lost in the fire dancing before his eyes when he noticed how quiet his son was. Leaning on the tall blond, he caught his eyes and saw that something was bothering the young being.

“What’s wrong?” Legolas was quiet for a moment and his father allowed the silence, just waiting for the words to come and not forcing it.

“They had caught someone…they were already…if I hadn’t…” A sigh escaped the pale lips and he slumped down on the hobbit craving contact and comfort. Bilbo couldn’t even begin to imagine what his son had seen, but he could see how it would have driven down the reality of their situation into the young elf mind. They had left the Shire, they had known there could be danger, but now face with the reality of it, it was hitting Legolas more than he thought it would.

“But you did and were all safe because of it.” His son groaned in affirmation leaning heavier against the hobbit. He had been worried so worried, when he had seen the trolls camp, even the possibility that his father could have been one of those corpse had sent pure panic through the young elf and even thought the danger had passed, Legolas still needed to feel the warm of the small being seep into his own body. Bilbo understood and even when he felt his arm and legs go numb from the weight of his son he didn’t move. When Fili, kili and Ori also moved to his side and pulled the elf away to sleep all together, the hobbit went with them and made sure they were all tucked in. They all looked so young curled up against each other seeking comfort in their warmth. He gave each one a kiss on the forehead and bid them goodnight.

Thorin was on watch duty when the smaller being came to sit by his side. They sat next to each other in silence looking at the white smoke still coming out of the woods and grateful the wind wasn’t blowing any of the smell that came with the smoke their way.

“You have a great kid, he did an amazing thing today and didn’t ask for anything in return.”

“Why would he? You’re his companions keeping you safe is normal…no?”

“He’s still an elf.” The sentence was sais with so much venom that it took Bilbo by surprised. He looked, really looked at his companion and sighed.

“Tell me.”

“….what?”

“Just tell me, I’ve been telling you the tales of the Shire all this time, but I don’t know your story, not really. So tell me.” Thorin looked taken aback, he had never been one to talk much during all those nights they had spent travelling and yet it felt like the dwarf and the hobbit had gotten closer in the silent understanding they had between them. “Let me understand you better Thorin. That’s all I ask.”

That seemed to do the tricked and talk he did. He told Bilbo the whole story, about the dragon, about Azog and about the elves that hadn’t keep their words to his people. The dwarf king spoke all night, as others came to take their watch shift they all walked away once they heard Thorin talking to Bilbo respecting the moment they were having. Even once the words had stopped the two of them stayed sitting next to each other, Thorin still stuck in his past nightmares and Bilbo stayed next to him making sure the great dwarf didn’t feel alone. Once the first rays of the sun started to peek over the horizon Thorin seemed to awake from a dream and his eyes found the small hobbit next to him.

“Thank you for listening.” Bilbo bumped his shoulder against Thorin side with a nod, no works were needed, the moment was perfect.

Perfect until they both jumped at a loud noise and screams from down below. Everyone was awake in a moment jumping out of their blankets and looking for their weapons still half asleep. It was chaos around the camp until a very familiar grey figure pooped seemingly out of nowhere with a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Well! Good morning all! I seem to have prettified some trolls thinking they might have bothered you, but it seems you were safe without my help.” Every eyes were on the wizard as he came trotting in like it was a perfectly fine way to start the day after such a stressful night for all the company. “Tea anyone?”

*****************

Much later, they went back down to see the Trolls, now petrified and only marginally less terrifying and found a cave filled with all the weapons said trolls had taken from their victims.

Everyone found something useful, Thorin a sword, Bilbo a dagger (really a sword for hobbit), Dwalin an axe…all in all once they left the cave now better equipped, they were all ready to leave the whole experience behind. Legolas did found a new bow, but as Bilbo had expected his son still keep the bow he had made himself and divided the arrows he found with the brothers.

As they set out on the road once again, Bilbo truly hoped their next stop would be less eventful.

Chapter Text

Bilbo had long been used to the eccentricity of the grey wizard, not much surprised him anymore really in regards to what Gandalf would say and do. The tall old man had been in the hobbit’s life for too long now for him to be shocked by his ways…but here was Radagast and honestly, Bilbo was starting to think that maybe the grey wizard was the most normal of the bunch.

The brown wizard had popped out of the woods they had been resting in, leaving the horses and ponies a little farther away so they wouldn’t get hurt on the slippery rocks covered in moss. Gandalf had been in the middle of leading them…somewhere, even the old being either didn’t know where he was going or was keeping it secret for some reason. And now they were all waiting around as the two wizards talked between themselves in hush voices. Legolas and the other younglings had been quite interested in the twelve Rhosgobel rabbits and were crouched next to them. The elf of course seemed to become an instant favorite and the rabbits allowed themselves to be petted, one had even curled up next to his son to take a nap. Radagast had seemed interested in the young elf for a moment, before all his attention had been redirected to his grey counterpart. The rest of the dwarves were all lazing around, enjoying the quiet moment in the wood, Thorin was not too far behind clearly eavesdropping on the wizard’s conversation and not even really trying to hide the fact he was openly spying on them.

Bilbo felt a tug of panic before he saw his son jump to his feet reaching for his bow and arrow pointing over the small mount over them. Kili who had been close by did the same following the elf lead, trusting his friend instinct has the clearing became quiet. Before anyone could ask what Legolas had heard a roar broke the silence and a giant demented wolf looking creature jumped out of the trees and right at their group. Legolas arrow hit first, shortly followed by Kili’s and Thorin came running back to them as Gloin sword killed the beast. They could hear in the distance more growling coming closer and closer to them.

“WARGS!” Gandalf and Radagast came back to the group shouting and yelling at each other as Bilbo and the rest started collecting their belonging only to find that the Warg had frighten the horse’s and ponies leaving them without a mean to make a quick escape.

“Who did you tell about your quest?!” Gandalf could be heard, for once panicking as he argued with Thorin.

“No one!”

“Do not lie to me!”

“No one! I swear!” Thorin’s voice was filled with panicked, but Bilbo could also see how much he resented Gandalf questioning his word in this moment of crisis.

They needed to start running now and didn’t have time for this. Luckily, Radagast stepped forward to create a diversion with this rabbits and instructed them to start running has he would divert the Orcs and Wargs away from them as best he could. Gandalf took the lead running ahead as everyone follow as fast as they could while trying to not lose all their belonging. Legolas stayed close to the hobbit, follow closely by Fili and Kili. As they reached the limit of the forest they were faced with an open plain filled with rocks of all size they used as shelter. Just as they had hidden behind one of the rocks, Bilbo looked back to see Radagast zooming out of the forest pull by his rabbits and closely followed by Orcs on Wargs looking particularly murderous.  

They kept moving as fast as they could, trying not to cross path with their pursuer, running from rock to rocks, following the grey wizard and hoping he knew where they were heading…hopefully not to their death. Just as they were about to move again a sound from above made them all freeze and Bilbo looked up to see that one of the orcs had slipped from the pack and was now on top of them, so close to pinpointing their location. Thorin at this side pushed the hobbit closer to the rock and looked at Kili, who was ready with his bow and arrow. Legolas close by pulled his own arrow and exchanged a look with the young dwarf, the elf pointed to his chest and up and then pointed to Kili and up. That seemed to be enough as they moved as one, the elf releasing his arrow at the orc head and Kili aimed at the warg in perfect unison but most importantly as quietly as they could. The orc however had enough breath left to yell just before Thorin could cut his throat and Bilbo peeked over their hiding spot to see the pack looking their way.

“RUN!” The hobbit was pushed forward as they all took off following the tall grey man, trying to keep up as much as they could earring just behind their shoulder the sound of the orcs closing in on them.

Bilbo looked away for a moment and Gandalf was gone, leaving all of them stranded in front of a rock formation with no escape.

“Where’s Gandalf?” He didn’t know who had asked, but at the moment all the hobbit wanted to know was where was his son. Looking back, Bilbo could see the tall blond and the dark haired young dwarf side by side holding back the orcs advance with their arrows.

“In here you fools!” The small being was pulled back as he saw Gandalf motioning them to jump into an entrance in the rocks, but Bilbo pushed back refusing to jump in when his son was still too far away and in danger. He would not abandon his child without a fight.

“LEGOLAS!”

“KILI!” Thorin was at his side the only one left standing sword in his hand, Bilbo follow his example, he didn’t know how to use his dagger, but he would use it with all his might if it meant keeping his son alive.

“LEGOLAS! RUN! KILI!” Finally, the elf looked back and started running toward them easily picking up and throwing over his shoulder a slower Kili. Legolas took a running start and has be approached the entrance to the cave picked up his father with his other hand pushing all three of them down the entrance as Thorin jumped behind them sword at the ready in case they were followed. Their fall was stopped with Dwalin and Bofur that had stood by at the ready.

Gandalf wasn’t moving seemingly waiting for something when they heard the first sound of fighting and to everyone surprise an orc corpse fell before the group. Thorin moved closer ready to give the finishing blow if need be and pulled an arrow from the corpse studying it before he turned accusing eyes toward the wizard.

“Elves.” Thorin voice was soft as he said it and Bilbo could hear the drip of disgust coming from the dwarf as he avoided looking toward Legolas.

The battle sound slowly subsided and the group moved deeper into the cave since they couldn’t get back up. Bilbo stayed toward the back followed by Gandalf and Legolas, the king of the dwarves was ahead lost in his thought.

“Gandalf? Where are we?” The hobbit asked feeling something in the air that felt familiar. Legolas must have also felt it as he was looking all over with wide eyes full of curiosity.

“What does it feel like?” The grey wizard voice was soft but also curious.

“…it feels like…magic?” If he really though about it, it reminded the small being of the magic he had felt years ago when he had found his son.

Gandalf hummed with one of this enigmatic smile and left it at that. They keep on moving forward until finally the rock corridor opened and Bilbo was struck with the most beautiful view he had ever seen in his life.

“Is that…”

“Rivendell, you brought us to the elves of Rivendell! They will stop our quest; they won’t help us….” Thorin’s voice was drowned out as he kept arguing with the grey wizard and the hobbit looked up to see that his son had moved closer to him looking on Rivendell with as much wonder as his father.

“It’s majestic.” Legolas voice was so soft, like he was afraid this moment wasn’t real and he would wake up in the Shire if he dared speak to loud. Taking the young elf hand in his, Bilbo squeezed in softly providing comfort and for the first time in a long felt magic flow between him and his son. It wasn’t the usual Shire magic that they had grown accustomed too, it was a new kind feeling much older but also…welcoming.

Bilbo was the vessel that the flow used to reach Legolas, it felt like the Rivendell magic wanted to imprint on the young elf, mark him in some way. It only lasted for the blink of an eye, but it left both of them feeling refreshed and renewed. As the magic pulled back returning to the earth, Legolas leaned down pressing his forehead to his father’s breathing in the fresh air and recentered himself. They allowed the moment to wash over them, Bilbo knowing how overwhelming it must have been for his son to feel true elven magic for the first time.

When the young elf leaned back allowing his father to see his face, he looked different…Bilbo couldn’t really put his finger on the change, it was like a soft glow. The elf eyes seemed clearer, his hair already so blond looked a shade paler and even his skin now had a soft glow to it. With a gentle hand the smaller being caressed the youngling cheek ever so softly and smiled as a giggle escape the elf lips.

“It’s….” Legolas tried but words were escaping him, he was overwhelmed.

“Coming back home.” The elf hummed in agreement and took a deep breath before straightening up and shaking his head once as if to clear his brain of fog.

“In a sense yes, but not completely…it’s…there’s something missing. It’s welcoming me, embracing my presence, but it’s not where I belong.” Bilbo remembered that Thorin had said on their first meeting that Legolas looked like a Mirkwood elf, he hadn’t really understood what that meant than, but maybe it was the reason Rivendell didn’t feel quite right.

“Bilbo! Legolas! Are you coming?” Ori’s voice pulled them out of their bubble and they both turned to see that the company had started their approach to Rivendell. Thorin and Gandalf must have come to an understanding as they were leading the group. The young dwarf had stayed behind waiting for them, but now seemed worried as the group had gotten much farther ahead.

With one last look at the majestic view of Rivendell, father and son exchanged a look and nodded to the young dwarf. “Coming!”

The little trio made their way down, ahead of them Bilbo could see Gandalf discussing with a brown haired elf while the dwarves stood behind on their guards. They were still far enough away that the group of elves that had been battling the orcs passed below them on their horses startling the dwarves who moved into formation spurring the trio to move faster to rejoined the group in case of trouble.

Bilbo and Ori took off running for the last stretch, as Legolas trotted behind them bow and arrow at the ready just in case. When they arrive Thorin and some other elf were arguing, the king of the dwarf did like arguing more than talking it seemed, but the elf fell silent as his gaze fixed itself on Legolas.

“Who…is this?” The other elves were also stuck in place everyone gaze fixed on the blond elf. Legolas looked to his father not knowing exactly what do either. Gandalk stepped forward right away feeling the tension in the air.

“Lord Elrond, these are our companions, Bilbo Baggins and Legolas…Baggins.” The brown haired elf finally looked away from the young elf to look at the wizard.

“What is the meaning of this grey one?” The change to elvish caught Bilbo off guard, but he decided to not show he could understand just to see what was happening, Legolas for his part had gone completely expressionless.

“The young one was raised by the hobbit standing next to him they are father and son.”

“How is that possible? His blood is pure I can feel it, Rivendell accepted him into his heart, what are you saying?” Elrond face didn’t show any emotion as he spoke not did his tone of voice let anyone know how agitated he was, but the elves around them were not so subtle. Their gaze kept on jumping from the hobbit to the young elf as they listen to the conversation.

“The young one was found as a newborn by the hobbit and he raised him and keep him alive. I cannot explain to you this miracle other than it stands before you now.”

“What of his parents, what of his blood? How can this be?” Elrond clearly wanted to ask more, bur he caught himself as he realized that all the elves around him were openly staring in avid curiosity at the duo making the father and son quite uncomfortable. “This discussion isn’t over grey one. Allowed me to offer shelter and food to you travelers. It will be our honor to host you.”

“Food? Food would be good.” All the dwarves light up at the mention of food. The lord of Rivendell opened his arms showing them the way with a kind if fake smile on his lips.

Bilbo knew all this well those fixed expression hiding true emotions. As a whole Legolas had always openly showed his expression, growing up around hobbits that wore their emotions all over their face had had it’s impact on the way he emoted. But, and to this day Bilbo always wondered if it was pure elf behavior that just came with the race genetics, Legolas did have that same fake smile that looked reassuring and all-knowing but wrung oh so fake to the hobbit. He had seen that smile when his son wanted to hide his emotions or was angry, the same way all the elves here were showing that same smile now. Nobody else seemed to notice, but to Bilbo it was extremely uncomfortable. His son must have had the same though as he reached over taking his father’s hand.

“How can such a low life form raise a being of a superior race? Surely it’s a lie.” It was but a whisper but the hobbit heard it so clearly. He fought not to show any sign that he had heard, but his son hand squeezed down on his in anger. If could hear some of the whispers, Legolas could hear all of them.

“Such pure blood wasted by a lowly creature.”

Bilbo wasn’t the kind of hobbit who would have let these comments slide, in the Shire he and Lobelia would probably have long started a fight with anyone talking this way about the young elf or himself. The hobbit chanced a look at the leader of the elves, Elrond was speaking with Gandalf not even glancing their way, but Bilbo knew he was also hearing the whispers running around their group. The fact that this so call superior race, that was acting all high and mighty hadn’t even verified if the hobbit and his son actually spoke their language before showing their disgust so openly was a real disappointment to Bilbo. Legolas for his part had kept his mask of stone just following along not letting any emotion slip, but the smaller being could feel the cold fury that was raging in the young elf.

“The food will be served on the terrace, you can follow my aides, they will show you to your rooms and then to the feast.” Two elves moved forward motioning for the dwarves to follow them. “Grey one, Master Hobbit, if you could spare me a moment?”

“I cannot.” Bilbo’s tone was polite and oh so sweet as he turned his full hobbit charm to the lord of Rivendell. Thorin who had been the recipient of that smile before actually tensed and moved a step away from the hobbit, almost instinctively covering his face in case Bilbo decided to throw something his way. “We have been traveling a long way and were just attacked by orcs, fearing for our life. You wouldn’t hold it against us if we excused ourselves to rest, as I’m sure a gracious and generous host would.”

“I would simply enjoy to have a light-heart conversation with you Master hobbit.” Bilbo almost rolled his eyes, but instead acted faint, causing his son to rush forward to support him.

“Oh my deepest apologies but I do not seem to be feeling well enough for even a light-heart conversation Lord Elrond, can you not find it in your heart to let me rest? Gandalf would be much more apt to answer any questions you might have.” The gaze Bilbo leveled at the old man was enough to push Gandalf to step forward.

“Master Baggins his right Lord Elrond, let them rest and I’ll answer any questions you might have, if I’m not enough I’m sure Master Baggins will be more than happy to answer any questions you might still have during the feast.”

“Very well, but…”

“Much oblige, we’ll see you later.” The hobbit cut in not letting the lord finish his sentence and turned on his feet dragging Legolas by the hand behind him.

They hurried down the corridor, easily catching up to the group and were shown to their room. The moment the door was closed, Legolas hand slipped from his and pure white anger filled the young elf face.

“Legolas…” Bilbo could feel the young one’s emotions practically pouring out of him, he had never seen his son this angry and this distressed. They had only just meet elves for the very first time in that number and the hobbit couldn’t say he was much impressed, but it must have been so much more heartbreaking for the young one. “Legolas, come here.”

Moving to the bed, Bilbo waited for his son to stop pacing back and forth. Legolas was trying to handle all his emotions and the hobbit had an inkling that even with the door close the elf was still earing all the gossip that must be running rampant outside their door since they had stepped foot in to the city. “Come here my heart.”

At the soft tone and pet name, the elf stopped pacing and practically threw himself at the hobbit, still mindful to not crush him with his weight, Legolas moved until he was curled around his father breathing in loudly the hobbit scent to calm himself.

“Can you still hear them?” Legolas hummed in affirmation. “All of them or are you focusing on some specifically?”

“…It might be all of them, they’re just so loud, since we’ve retired to our rooms they are no longer whispering their disgust and comments about you and me. I wasn’t expecting much really, but this…” With a sigh Legolas buried his face into his father stomach clearly trying to drowned out the sound from outside.

Bilbo was reminded once again just how young his son was, he might look like an adult, but he was just…oh so young still. Gently the hobbit covered the blond elf ears.

“Just focus on me, listen to my heartbeat, bring your focus back to me completely.” He felt the body around him relax and muscle let go of the tension that had been building up all this time. “That’s is breath, I’m here, I’ll always be here.”

“It wasn’t what I was expecting. I wasn’t looking for open arms and welcoming embrace, but this…they cannot even accept that another race could have taken in one of their own, it almost sounds as if leaving me in the woods would have been better to them than you raising me.”

Bilbo hadn’t heard this, but he had heard enough to know it indeed seemed to be the general consensus the elves who hadn’t even taken the time to talk to them or know them had come too. It was disappointing and Bilbo did feel quiet, if not still burning, anger at the reception they had had. But right now the hobbit was focused on his son, his precious marvelous son.

Chapter Text

Bilbo was humming softly carding his fingers through the blond hair of his son. Legolas was napping curled completely around the smaller being letting the sound of the music and his heartbeat center him and calm him. The hobbit could feel the Rivendell magic use the existing bond between the father and the son to help calm the young elf. It was interesting to note that even though the magic could flow in the elf directly it seemed more natural to still use the bond between the two of them, like it was easier. Legolas had mentioned that instead of an heavy flood trying to push itself inside his veins, when the magic took their bonds route, it was more calm, more soothing like a quiet river. It had been years since magic had flown between them it that way, but it was familiar to the hobbit, almost nostalgic, so he too was calmed by the familiar feeling, if a little different since it wasn’t the usual Shire energy he was used too. Bilbo was letting his mind wander over all those sensations and their current situation when a soft knock was heard and he froze hoping it wasn’t another elf.

“Fili.” The elf murmured under his breath, barely a whisper since his face was hidden in his father’s neck. Another soft, almost timid knock at the door.

“Come in!” The blond dwarf head peaked inside the room not noticing them right away. Once he made eye contact with the hobbit, Fili smiled happily and skipped over to them after closing the door softly behind him.

“Uncle Bilbo!” Bilbo’s old heart melted on the spot as he tried, unsuccessfully, to detangled himself from a very clingy elf and sat up on the bed. The little dwarf didn’t seem to notice he had called the hobbit uncle for the very first time as he came to lean on the bed. The hobbit couldn’t help patting the young one on the head in greeting, they were all so adorable. “Uncle Thorin asked me to come see if you were alright, but he also asked if you could be…hum how did he put it again?”

Fili’s face became serious as he imitated his uncle tone and face.” Please be patient, you can deal with the elves as you see fit, once they help us with the map, but in the meantime, please Master Hobbit I beg of your patience and generosity.”

Legolas scuffed under his breath and finally detangled himself from the hobbit looking at this friend with a smile. “Tell your uncle we’ll be on our best Shire behavior, I wouldn’t want to insult the Baggins name and bring shame to my family…especially not aunt Lobelia.”

The blond dwarf nodded, the poor dear clearly not understanding the veil treat behind the statement. Blbo on the other hand shot his son a warning look, but couldn’t really refute the statement since he did agree with it on some level. Both Father and Son would be on their best Shire behavior, the dwarves just didn’t need to know that Shire behavior once a Hobbit was insulted or slighted was probably the pettiest behavior any race in Middle-earth could exhibit and more. Bilbo was only slightly worried because Lobelia Baggins was the queen when it came to exhibiting pettiness and she had had a heavy hand in raising Legolas and forming his personality.

“Just make sure you make your aunt proud once the great Lord Elrond has given his help with the map.”

“What about you?” Legolas knew his father to well. While Lobelia and Legolas were very good at long games of pettiness and silent treatment, Bilbo had a short fuse and easy anger. Now Bilbo could also understand why Thorin’s message had two pleases in it, like he was begging the smaller being to not start a war during their short stay in Rivendell.

“Worry about yourself, I’ll make sure to not make any difficulties for Thorin, I did promise my help and signed a contract after all.” The tall blond chuckled softly and nodded knowing better then to push his father on this subject. “Was there anything else Fili?”

“No, but Bombur wanted to speak to you.” Jumping down from the bed Bilbo stopped and made a questioning sound, pressing the little dwarf to go on. “He wanted to go see the kitchen to maybe help cooking for the feast Lord Elrond promised but he was turned down by the chef. It’s fine, but he said he only saw vegetables begin prepared and nothing smelled like it was being cook. Uncle Thorin said you would handle it?...please.”

Straightening his clothes, Bilbo looked over at his son and then at the dwarf with a frown. He had difficulty believing that after promising a feast to the small company that had been travelling for days, the great ruler of Rivendell would serve his guest cold vegetables. But then again, from the comments and whispers he had heard so far, the level of respect the elves of Rivendell had for their guests didn’t seemed that high and they would probably stoop that low to make the dwarves look ungrateful during the feast.

“Where’s Bombur?”

“He stayed close to the kitchen, he’s waiting for you.” With a nod the hobbit made his way to the door followed closely by the two younglings. “It’s just down the corridor and to the left, Bombur said…oh!”

Right outside the door stood three young looking elves, tall light brown hair, the same features, they all looked alike and if he was honest with himself it unsettled the hobbit a little to have those three identical unfeeling brown eyes looking at him. The one in the front didn’t even have his hand raised and they didn’t look surprises that the door had just opened.

“Did you need anything? Or does Lord Elrond usually send people to spy on his guest right outside their doors?” His tongue was faster than his brain and Bilbo took a moment to make sure he was smiling and that his tone wasn’t too harsh, but still it didn’t look good for Lord Elrond if he was indeed trying to spy on them. He saw the little twitch of surprise at the corner of the eye of the elf in the front and Bilbo suppressed a smile, he was quite adept at reading micro expression from elves. The delegation didn’t know how to answer the direct question and the leader was quite irritated to have been called out so fast. “Well? If you have nothing to say we’ll have to keep going, but I can leave the door open for you if you want to go through our bags.”

“Sir Hobbit!” Oh the leader had found his voice. From the corner of his eye, Bilbo could see Fili fighting not to laugh, Legolas for his part was showing nothing, but the hobbit could feel glee radiating through their connection. “Please stop your jest, we were sent here by Lord Elrond to invite the young elf on a tour of Rivendell.”

“Oh! I’ll close my door than!” Bilbo closed the door and turned to the elves with a smile. They had all turned their attention to Legolas who for his part was ignoring them royally, his son was looking everywhere but at the small delegation. “That’s very thoughtful of Lord Elrond indeed. Could you also bring along Fili, Kili and Ori?”

“Lord Elrond only invited the elf.” Bilbo had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes and smiled more sweetly trying to make himself look as innocent and stupid as he could.

“Well in that case, please go to Lord Elrond and inform him that his kind offer must be declined. We only just arrived in Rivendell and asking for my son to follow some strangers alone without even being allowed to bring his friends with him, I don’t want to say it’s inconsiderate, but I personally do not like this situation. Truly I wish your Lord was a little more considerate of a father’s heart, but oh well…please pass along my thanks to your Lord.”

Without waiting the hobbit moved along, he knew the two younglings would follow after him and didn’t even look back.

“What can we do? Our Lord really insisted on this.”

“Will you tell him yourself the message from the hobbit? He will not the pleased.”

“Lord Elrond said it was important we cannot…” The leader scoffed and Bilbo heard hurried footsteps behind them, they were not even trying to be quiet. “Sir Hobbit, we will take the young dwarves with us on the tour, please it was a request made by Lord Elrond for the benefit of…your son.”

The last two words were choked out, barely audible, but the hobbit allowed it, turning around with a smile on his face faking relief with a hand over his heart. Legolas didn’t seem to please about it, but didn’t say a word, his son seemed to be on the silent treatment path of war for the whole of Rivendell.

“Oh that’s so sweet, thanks it truly eased my worries. I’m sure it will be greatly educational for all the young ones.” Fili was smiling nodding along, Bilbo was pretty sure the dwarf was just enjoying the show and would enjoy it even more once the three elves would try to speak to Legolas and be meet with a Lobelia worthy wall of silence. “Go, go along I’ll find my way!”

Legolas leaned down brushing his nose with the hobbit in a show of affection, that Bilbo could see scandalized the delegation and follow along a babbling Fili on their way to pick up the rest of the young dwarves.

The smaller being waited a moment, looking at the strange group walking away and smile. He had an idea of what Lord Elrond had intended by inventing only the blond elf and surrounding him with Rivendell elves. He would need to have a talk with Lord Elrond at some point if his suspicion were correct, but for now he had signed a contract and was trying to be on his best behavior…somewhat best behavior.

Walking down the corridor, he found the kitchen quite easily, with Bombur fidgeting in front of the door it was hard to miss. But the hobbit also noted the lack of smell too. No one was cooking anything in that kitchen that was for sure, there was no smell of fire or spices, nothing that would indicate the preparation of a feast. Moving more silently, Bilbo made his way to the dwarf side but placed a finger on his lips to keep him quiet wanting to see if he could hear anything from inside. There was muffled sound but nothing to clear. The door wasn’t completely closed and Bilbo took a peek inside.

Green a lot of green vegetables were on the tables, the ovens weren’t fired and the elves in the kitchen didn’t seem to be in a great hurry to cook anything. In the corner of the room he could see what looked like pantry doors. Everyone seemed busy and the tables were all taller than Bilbo. Thinking about it for a moment, he had been asked to come with the company to sneak into a dragons den after all, this didn’t seem like much of a challenge compare to the dwarves’ request. He held out his hand to Bombur to wait for a moment and snuck in. As silently as he could, the hobbit stayed low, not that he had to crouch much since the kitchen tables and counter were so high, were all elves this tall?

The kitchen staff and chefs were minding their own business, not in any hurry and not paying much attention to their surroundings. Bilbo easily snuck all the way to the pantry and walked in. He sighed in relief when he saw that it was indeed the pantry and started walking around the shelves of food. There was bread, dried fish and meat, conserved fruits and so much more. Of course, he knew that elves had different nutrition need than most other race, but seeing the beauty of Rivendell, he had known there must have been more types of food in the great Lord Elrond kitchen, since he must host feast and events for other races. But here he was surrounded by all this food ready to be used and the kitchen was preparing salads.

They had been travelling for days, had been chased by orcs and Trolls, he had young ones who needed good food to grow strong and stay alert on their journey….and they were going to give them a feast of greens. Bilbo had to take a moment to calm himself. In the Shire no one would dare invite anyone over and feed them rabbit food, it was a great insult to a hobbit to not serve adequate food to guest. With all the meals they would have in a day back home, Bilbo had already been worried that the dwarves didn’t eat enough, since they already ate less than a hobbit would on a regular normal day. And here they were in the great city of Rivendell, invited to a feast that none of his companions would enjoy and they would go hungry after travelling for so long and eating rations and sometime cold and hard bread when they couldn’t make a fire. This wouldn’t do.

Sneaking back out, Bilbo really had to concentrate on not making any sound, even though he felt like stomping his feet the whole way back. He made it back to Bombur side and left the door ajar behind him. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile on his face.

“Bombur! Here you are!” The kitchen went silent; Bilbo was learning that elves were curious creatures who liked to eavesdrop quite a bit. “Fili told me you had come to help the elven chef prepare the food for the feast…but why are you outside?”

“Hummm….” Bilbo waved his hands encouraging the dwarf to speak louder and follow his lead. “I did! But the chef said he didn’t need my help. I’m worried they do not know how to fed dwarves….and hobbits?”

“Oh!” Giving the ginger dwarf a thumbs up, Bilbo continued.” No surely they must! How could the great elves of Rivendell not know how to prepare a feast for the King of the dwarves, the Great Thorin OakenShield? Lord Elrond wouldn’t want to look less than the king of the dwarves after offering shelter and promising a feast. Just think how much of an embarrassment it would be for Lord Elrond if his people didn’t even know how to cook for his esteemed guests. Surely you jest!”

“You are correct Master Hobbit, I’m sure my doubts were unfounded and that the elves mending the Rivendell kitchen would not bring shame to their Lord, my worries have been eased, I should never have doubted Lord Elrond great generosity and hospitality.” Bombur was red in the face trying so hard not to laugh and Bilbo wasn’t far behind, but he went for an extra push.

“Yes, we should definitely make sure to thank Lord Elrond tonight at the feast once everyone has had their fill of food. Our travel has been so hard and perilous, to have such a generous Lord making sure we are well fed and feel his hospitality through this feast will be a bone on our hearts.”

“I do so miss the taste of good homemade food…and mead?” Barely containing his laughter, the hobbit made a sound of agreement that was half a giggle at the pure hope in the dwarf voice when he mentioned mead. Bombur and Bilbo had to hurry away from the door walking as fast as they could to not explode from laughter. Once they were far enough, the ginger dwarf was the first to crack and leaned on the wall giggling. The smaller being was not far behind holding his side that hurt from repressed laughter.

“Oh Master Hobbit! Master indeed! Thorin was right to refer me to you for help, crafty hobbit you are.” Bilbo gave a little bow in thanks.

“Let’s wait a moment and we’ll pass by the kitchen and see the effect of our little performance. If they have any pride they should be emptying their pantry like you’ve emptied mine on that first night.” Bombur eyes shone at the memory.

“Oh lad! Your pantry was the best stocked little thing I’ve ever seen! I still dream of the food we had that night.” Taking a deep breath, the dwarf turned a little more serious if not still slightly flushed from his laughter. “But truly…Bilbo you have my thanks, if not for you our king and this company would have had to contain with rabbit food tonight and I…truly didn’t know what to do.”

“You’re more than welcome Bombur, I wouldn’t have rested well either if the young ones couldn’t have eaten their fill when we are surrounded with such richness.” They both look around, everything was clean, pristine, showing off how beautiful and plentiful Rivendell was. A stark contract the days they had spent sleeping in the dirt. “Let’s go see if the kitchen has come alive shall we?”

“We shall!”

They walked side by side and to no one’s surprise, once they passed the kitchen doors again they smelled fire, fish and spices. They exchanged a knowing look and parted way at the end of the corridor. Bombur went to announced their victory to the rest of the company, while Bilbo made his way into another corridor.

He walked aimlessly following no path until he saw a room filled with books from floor to ceiling and decided to enter. The library truly was a piece of art. The tall glass stained windows filtering the setting sun and lighting up rows upon rows of books. The hobbit fingers hitched to pick one and peruse all this untouched history. He could truly spend years in this room, maybe even end his life here and he knew he would still not be able to read all of these books in this one lifetime. Still he moved and weaved between the shelves and once he had a grasp of the organization, he found what he had been hoping to find and smiled. Taking the precious book with him, he made his way to a little nook. Right next to a window with a breathtaking view of Rivendell, Bilbo plunged his nose in his findings and studied ad much of his contempt as he could before Bofur came to disturbed his peace.

“There you are lad! Are you coming to eat? The smell in the corridor as my mouth already salivating.”

Bilbo hummed finishing his chapter and hoped down from his perch. He placed the book back into its open space and followed the babbling dwarf out of the library.

“What were you reading there lad?”

“Humm? Oh I was reading the family history of Lord Elrond.” Bofur seemed confused, but Bilbo smiled sweetly.

Chapter Text

As they arrived to the terrace where the banquet was held, Bofur took off to join his friends. Bilbo for his part took a moment to survey the scene before him. It looked idyllic as a whole, with the sunset over the waterfall, the mist of the water creating little rainbows, making the whole terrace look drenched in amicability and joy. The old stone looked warm and inviting, the plants spreading around the open space made it look so inviting. It was a stark contrast to all the previous night they had spent in the woods, eating by the fire, with only the stars and the sounds of the forest as companions.

If this was a painting the hobbit thought, it would make for a fantastic work showing the benevolence of the Rivendell elves to the travelling dwarves. But as the small being really looked around he finally found what had felt wrong and had been nagging at the back of his mind since the moment he had laid eyes on the whole scene. As a whole, a passerby would see a charming moment of peace, but if you truly took the time to stop and look at each part of the scene, uneasiness started to creep up one spine.

It was subtle really, but he had grown up surrounded by subtleties, hobbits were expert at it really, if only for pettiness sake. But this was different, a much larger scale of subtleties and wrongness that made it almost look normal. At the center of the terrace, where the main table had been place, was the place of honor for the dwarves and his son. The table was filled with food and drinks, they were happy, smiling and enjoying a quiet meal with no threat to their lives. Only this sight would have made the hobbit at ease, it was all that surrounded the happy scene that made it so eerie.

Other tables had been placed around the main guest table, all tables giving a perfect open view of the guest table, but if one took a moment to look, they were all devoid of food or drinks. Just decoration and flowers. Bilbo was sure that most if not all of the Rivendell elves were present for this banquet and all had the same stilted polite smile on their face. The eyes were completely empty of emotions has they moved around as if staying in one spot for too long would betray the fact that all they were doing was looking on as the dwarves and his son ate and talked. The elves were really just there to observed the strangers that had entered their land. Like they were observing a new fascinating creature they had never seen in their long lives.

Focusing his attention to different part of the terrace gave the same result. All those empty smiles, it was like the artist of the painting had forgotten to give any soul to his characters once he had completed the center of his masterpiece, just placing some random living statues all around the main party to fill in the blank spaces. Bilbo wasn’t sure if he would not have preferred to be back in the woods with strange creatures around than here in the sunset ray’s surrounded by empty eyes and creepy smiles.

Worried blue eyes caught his and the eerie feeling slowly dissipated from the hobbit as he made his way to his son. Knowing he was being overly observed, Bilbo made no effort to avoid any of the wandering elves milling around, instead forcing them to move away from this path. It was quite satisfying to see those tall graceful being look ever so slightly displeased has they moved away quickly upon realizing that Bilbo wouldn’t. All that grace suddenly leaving them as they flailed around for only a second before regaining their perfect composure. Legolas reached out to him the moment the smaller being was within arm reach, squeezing his hand softly and pulled Bilbo closer hiding his face in his neck. The hobbit gently circled his son head with his other arm and waited a moment before speaking softly. There was no point really in whispering where they were surrounded by curious elves that could hear a pin drop from the other side of Rivendell.

“Feeling tired?” Bilbo asked brushing soft blond hair between his fingers.

“Hummm.” Legolas lifter his head just enough to be able to see the hobbit eyes and sighed. “It was a long day and you weren’t there.”

With a scoff Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I’ve spoiled you too much, but I’ve miss you too.”

“It’s too late to stop now.” His father hummed in agreement, it really was. The blond elf pointed to the table brimming with food. “Hungry? I’ll make you a plate just sit.”

The hobbit nodded and was about to take a spot next to his son when he caught some erratic movement from the corner of his eye. Looking in the direction that had caught his attention, he was graced with a very determine looking Thorin that was frantically pointing for the hobbit to come sit next to him at the main table, next to him and…Elrond. Legolas follow his gaze and barely repressed a frown and grimace before is face turned blank.

“You seem to be needed elsewhere…again.” Bilbo himself barely repressed a sigh but nodded.

“Seem so, do you mind? The great king really does look in need of rescuing.” The hobbit didn’t even need to look away to know the giggles coming from his right belonged to said king’s nephew. The younger dwarves were completely ignoring their uncle, preferring to use their time to gorge on food and mead. They had listened to the whole conversation with curious ears but still didn’t feel the need to look away from their food, Bilbo respected their commitment to their stomachs.

“No, go. I’ll bring you your plate in a moment.” Detangling himself from the hobbit, Legolas rose to his feet in the most elegant display an elf could muster and planted a soft kiss on top of the hobbit head before moving along, studying the food attentively, most likely making sure his father would only get the best pieces of each plates.

Bilbo made a small movement to signal he was coming over to the still desperate looking Thorin and made his way to the table. He wasn’t sure what the King of the dwarves was expecting of him, knowing the chairs to the main tables were so big and high, but the hobbit was pleasantly surprised to see a cushion had been placed on his chair so he would at least be at the correct height. A helping hand from the dwarf was still needed but once seated, Bilbo was comfortable enough to relax.

The dwarf settled next to him now that he had a buffer between himself and Elrond. The smaller being took that has a sign the two kings talked had not been the most fruitful to their quest. Elrond was staring at the hobbit with the slightest frown on his face and Bilbo was sure they had just broken some etiquette rule by having a hobbit sit between two kings, but he cared more about Thorin’s need for him to be there than about etiquette at the moment.

Ignoring the brown haired elf for now, the smaller being turn to his companion. “Did you get the information you needed?”

Thorin tensed up, but didn’t look away from the hobbit. They could both feel the hard stare of Elrond on them. “No, we will talk more tonight, something about the moon and such…would you mind being present for it?”

“If you would like, yes of course.”

“I would, thank you.” The thanks was almost a whispered, but Bilbo noticed the tension leaving his friend the moment he agreed to be there. Clearly spending time to the elves had been taxing on the dwarf and if the hobbit presence could serve to aid his companion, he would happily land a hand where he could.

Bilbo turned his attention to the ruler of Rivendell and smiled. He would not start a conversation with Elrond, but the hobbit could feel that the older being was burning to touch on a particular blond subject. The elf opened his mouth and inclined his head only to be blocked by a familiar barrage.

“I got your favorites and some elvish wine you’ll probably enjoy more than the hale.” A curtain of blond hair hid the ruler of Rivendell as Legolas leaned forward placing a plate of food in front of the hobbit and handed him a well filled cup of wine. The plate was very well garnish and the hobbit couldn’t help a sigh of pure pleasure at the sight. He hadn’t been following his usual diet and this was a true blessing for the hobbit stomach.

“You spoil me too!”

“Always father.” Legolas gently touched his forehead to the hobbit’s and went back to his seat with the younger dwarves, completely ignoring Elrond. Not one to ignore good food, Bilbo did the same and started on his plate deciding he should at least honor the culinary part of the elvish culture.

“Sir hobbit, if I could have a moment.” The brown haired elf voice was calm but clearly demanded the hobbit’s attention. The smaller being turn and nodded signifying he was listening. “As you know some younglings took great care today in showing Legolas around Rivendell.”

Bilbo wouldn’t agree with the “great care” part of the statement but he nodded nonetheless. The food could have used a bit more seasoning.

“It would probably be beneficial to the young one in you company to bask a little longer in the culture of his people and I had a suggestion in this regard that you, hopefully, would agree with.”

The potatoes were definitely a little bland, but then again Bilbo didn’t remember seeing much spices in the elves kitchen.

“If Legolas wishes for it and with your blessing I would gladly open the doors of Rivendell to him and help with his education.”

The acorn cake on the other hand was a true delight, the hobbit wondered if he could borrow the recipe or maybe send it to the Shire with a messenger, Lobelia would be delighted.

“I’m sure with you support, Legolas would make the best decision for his future.” Elrond stopped talking, waiting for the hobbit to weight in and clearly expecting to have the smaller being agree with him.

“Would you be so kind as to specify what part of my son’s education is lacking in your eyes?” Bilbo asked reaching for his wine…oh it was delightful; his son really knew his taste well.

Elrond dropped the polite smile seeing he was not swaying the hobbit as he thought he would. Bilbo on the other hand was surprised this conversation had taken so long to be brought forward. He had known from the moment Elrond had set eyes on the young blond elf that this very conversation would happen and had time to prepare mentally.

“It would be beneficial for Legolas to immerse himself in elvish culture, he has already passed some time among your culture and….”

“How long did you immerse yourself in both of your cultures?” Elrond stopped talking his face hardening. “I’m simply curious to know how long you spent with humans in regards to the time you’ve spent with elves. My son isn’t mixed blooded, as far as I know at least, but he still belongs to two cultures, as a half blood on both side yourselves I’m curious about your own education.”

The terrace had gone silent. The music had stopped and even the dwarves had gone quiet since all eyes had turned to the main table. Bilbo could see Thorin’s hands moving around the table, grabbing and moving away anything the hobbit could possibility throw, the king of the dwarf definitely knew where this could go knowing the hobbit.

“I hadn’t realized hobbit’s knew our history, especially not my own.” There was a warning in Elrond’s voice, but the hobbit chose to ignore it and push on.

“Oh I do have books of legends and elvish history, that I thought to my son since he was young to make sure he knew where he came from. But no we didn’t bother to learn yours in particular, it didn’t seem relevant.”

Elrond sat back in his chair, his full attention on the hobbit who was still sipping his wine like he had no cares in the world.

“If it wasn’t relevant to you, how would you know of my family history?” The very tip of the elven king ears was slightly red, Bilbo had definitely struck a chord with his relevance comment.

“While your spies…I’m sorry young ones took the time to show my son around Rivendell, thank you for that by the way, I’m sure it was a wonderful experience for all. I took the time to explore on my own and came upon your library. I must say it is truly impressive and if we had a better understanding of each other I would definitely love to spend more time in your library, it is a treasure trove of information and absolutely fascinating. All this to say, I came upon a book relating your family history and though it only polite to learn more about our host.” The hobbit concluded by turning a blinding smile to the older being, placing down his cup that was now sadly empty.

“I see…” Bilbo gave him a moment; the older elf was smart he should soon realize a key information that would be needed for the smaller being to have acquired this information. “But that book is…”

“In elvish, yes.” Legolas appeared at his side filling his cup again.

“I must say I was surprised no one assume a hobbit would make the effort to teach himself and the elf he is raising his own race language. I did want to make sure you would have as much knowledge as possible to connect with your race.”

“Truly! I was waiting for someone to at least ask if I understood their insults and hushed comments before throwing them in my face during the whole tour of Rivendell.” Legolas chimed in, leaning against his father chair like they were just having a casual conversation. The rest of the elves present had turned into statues. No more polite fixed smiles, no more emotions, just pure stillness.

“Oh! That would have been the polite thing to do. They must have assumed a lowly hobbit couldn’t educate a mighty elf properly and needed their help to make sure your education was up to their standard.”

“From what I’ve seen since our arrival, they might actually need to learn from you. My guides today seemed to be lacking in knowledge of their own ancestor history and didn’t know much about the world outside of Rivendell.”

“Truly shocking!” Father and son turned their attention to Elrond as one. “Lord Elrond, once again I ask what is lacking in my son’s education? I did try to cover as many subject as I could even if my library was more limited than yours.”

The lord of Rivendell eyes turned to the young elves who had been Legolas guide all day and Bilbo saw them slink away from the terrace hugging the walls in their hurry to leave and be away from the older elf hard gaze. Thorin next them, and after making sure Bilbo wouldn’t be throwing anything, had settled down greatly enjoying the show.

“I seem to have misspoken and insulted you and...your son Master Baggins.” The older elf voice was clipped, he did not seem to enjoy the little game Bilbo and Legolas had just played on him. But it was also the first time he acknowledges the hobbit as the young elf father. “Legolas might be correct in assuming we are in need of a better education if all my people took the liberties to insult you and your own without any regards to the sacrifices and dedication you made for your son.”

“You were not much better.” Legolas commented, but relented with a look from his father. Not that Bilbo disagreed with the comment, but since Elrond was acknowledging his mistakes, the smaller being was ready to acknowledge the effort.

“I was not, indeed.” To everyone surprise, Elrond bowed his head to the hobbit in apology. “I give you my sincerest apologies for my short sightedness and prejudices. It does seem we have much more to learn from hobbits than I though and will not make this mistake again.”

Bilbo could see why Elrond had been chosen as the ruler of Rivendell. He had been caught in his own prejudices and instead of showing anger or shame (although there was still a touch of it the hobbit could see on the older elf face), the elder being had chosen to apologize and correct his attitude. A true ruler indeed, that would see his fault and try to improve instead of getting stuck on the humiliation.

“And this hobbit would welcome the opportunity to teach again.” For the first time since their arrival, Elrond showed a real smile to the duo. Slowly the tension left the air and Bilbo let out a small sight. They would be leaving soon, but at the very least the hobbit had the feeling that if he had the chance he would gladly come back to Rivendell.  

“We would welcome your knowledge and teachings Master Baggins.” The great king gazes travelled across the terrace, his eyes landing harshly on every single one of this subjects in a silent warning to not overstep their bounds any more than they already had. “It is clear to me that my people…and myself could use a new perspective as to not get stuck in our old ways and prejudices.”

The smaller being hummed softly in agreement. Thorin for his part seemed to stay on edge for the rest of the meal as the hobbit spoke more calmly with Elrond. Clearly there was something more the great elf wanted to talk about with Bilbo, but he kept their exchange rooted in safer subject not wanting to trigger another argument. The hobbit suspected that he mostly didn’t want to start on another touchy subject surrounded by so many witness.

Bilbo fully expected that the night would be long and that he would not get much sleep once he followed Thorin and Elrond to the secluded cave.

Chapter Text

Bilbo allowed himself a small moment or peace as the moon finally peeked over the grey night clouds and illuminated the scene before him. Most the elves had long since left the banquet, not really needing to be there anymore and with their curiosity satisfied. Only the dwarves, the wizard, Elrond and a handful of guards remained as the night breeze gently caressed the remains of what had been all in all a great night. One look toward Thorin and the hobbit knew he would soon be invited to follow the two leaders to a more private venue. The hobbit eyes drifted back to the younglings all chattering happily, until Ori, eyes barely staying open, let out a small but loud yawn, that was mirrored by all the young ones around him like a wave of sleepiness taking them all down one by one. A soft smile graced the hobbit face as they all fought not to show how much the fatigue of the previous days of travel was catching up to their young years. With one click of the tongue the smaller being had all eyes on him, even Thorin and Elrond stopped their conversation, their attention on the hobbit.

“Time for bed!” A few mumbled protest rose, but they died quickly with one stern look from the hobbit. Jumping down from his seat, Bilbo waved his hand toward the young ones and turned to the two kings. “I’ll put them to sleep and come right back.”

“You can pile them in my room, the bed his quite big, second door in the left corridor.” Thorin said softly looking at his nephews sleepily pushing each other without any real reason. The hobbit nodded before following the shuffling progression of heavy feet and hushed sleepy yawns.

His son waited for him to catch up, silently holding out his hand. The smaller being recognizing the request of comfort took the larger hand in his with a gentle squeeze. As the parade of yawns moved down the long softly lit corridors, the hobbit noticed that the elf eyebrows were slightly furrowed and pinched. Knowing the look quite well, Bilbo suppressed a sigh wishing his son had told him before it reached that point.

“The noise?” He felt the small startle from the young elf next to him and knew he was right. Legolas gave him a sheepish smile and nodded. “Since when?”

“...since we’ve arrived.” This time the sigh did escaped the hobbit mouth and his son flinched visibly like it had been the loudest sound he had ever heard. He gave the taller being a long disapproving look and nodded. They had just reached the room and would deal with it inside.

Pushing all the them in, Bilbo sent the three young dwarves to the bathroom while pushing his son toward the bed. Legolas was now actively pinching the bridge of his nose and let out a little groan at the sound of the young dwarves busy in the bathroom. From the moment Legolas had physically reached what most would see as puberty, what Bilbo would call elf side effects, had started happening at random times. For all the graces and many blessings older elf had, it was to be noted that, in Bilbo’s experience at least, that young one’s didn’t get their blessing without their fair share of growing pains. For his amazing eyesight, his son had months of blurry vision and near blindness has his eyes had to adjust to his ability to focus on faraway objects and really zero in on targets. But before all that, the poor hobbit had had to live with the clumsiest half blind young elf for months as his son eyes refused to simply do what the elf wanted and started focusing on the smallest details without the elf consent. It truly was a small blessing that his eyesight problems had started not long after Caranthir had entered their life and that the older elf had been able to help Legolas through that rough period. As a hobbit, even he had to admit defeat in regards to some of his son many quirks and since not much was written of known about the puberty and growth period of elf, Bilbo had tried to get as much information as he could from his former lover before his departure. It had been a learning curve, one of many. But the one that was still to this day an issue was his hearing.

Just like his eyes had the ability to focus and zone in on certain targets, so did the elf ears. It had not been much of a problem so far, but just like a random migraine, sometimes in new environment, Legolas lost the ability to control the volume of his hearing. Usually his son would take the time to find a quiet corner and take the time to find his balance, but as the situation had not permitted much peace, Bilbo could understand why he had not seen the signs before it had gotten to be painful to the young elf.

“What’s happening with Legolas?” Kili groggy voice came from the other side of the bed while Legolas melted into the mattress with a deep sigh of relief. Another small flinch cursed though the elf and the dwarf froze having noticed it too. Kili’s little face scrunched up in worry, his body frozen for fear of having hurt his friend.

“Too much noises to focus on.” Bilbo whispered softly. Kili nodded slowly, like he thought even the sound of his hair and braids moving would hurt his friend, which he wasn’t completely wrong about. The other two young dwarves having heard the hushed conversation shuffled closer as quietly as they could. They all stood still lined up on the other side of the bed, not really knowing what to do and if they could come forward or even touch anything without hurting their friend further. Bilbo smiled and motioned for them to give him a moment has he climbed unto the bed and cupped his son ears as gently as he could. “Hey sweetheart, can you focus on me for a moment, just my breathing for now, please.”

Legolas release his breath into a deep sight, his eyebrows furrowing further as he tried to find his father breath, having to focus harder since his ears were cupped blocking some of the noises. The hobbit relaxed his breathing counting it in and out in his head making sure to keep the rhythm even and slow. He noticed the dwarves copying his breathing pattern and smiled in thanks. The room filled with only the sound of deep breathing, slowly, gently the elf face relaxed.

“Good…good boy, now my heartbeat, find it and focus on it, please.” Legolas muscles slowly released all the tension that had been building up all day, his breathing grew heavier, more even and finally has Bilbo raised his hands away from his son head, the elf fell asleep. All the beings in the room froze listening for calm breathing and looking for any signs of discomfort. Three pairs of worried, sleepy eyes met Bilbo’s and he gave them a reassuring smile. Caressing his young son face, making sure to gently brush the skin that had been scrunched up just moment earlier, the hobbit looked away from the peaceful face and motion for the dwarves to come forward. As gently as they could all three younglings piled up on the bed moving slowly as to not disturbed the sleeping elf. The smaller being stayed close just in case, but no movement came from his sleeping son, he gently kissed the white relaxed forehead and made sure the blond elf was all tucked in and comfortable.

Jumping down from the bed as gently as he could, he moved to the other side to tucked the little ones under the blankets. All three were given a small comforting pat on the head and tucked them all up to their chin under the blankets. Bilbo blew all the candles on his way out and turned to look at the bed once last time before blowing the last one. With a smile he noticed that Fili and Ori had tucked against each other tightly, while Kili had wrapped himself around Legolas in search of warmth. The sound of soft snoring was already filling the dark room as the hobbit closed the door quietly.

Bilbo took his time returning to the main hall, humming softly under his breath, enjoying the quiet night air. He knew full well or maybe felt it deep in his ever worrying heart that this might be the last quiet and safe night they would have for quite a while. The small being heard the annoyed cadence of the leader of the dwarves’ voice before he could see him and almost turned around right then and there. He had a feeling that left alone the two leaders would not necessarily get along, but he had hoped they would keep the animosity to a minimum. If not for the fact that Thorin had asked him for his presence at this meeting, the hobbit would have been more than happy to skip the whole thing and go to bed. Taking a deep breath in…still thinking of soft pillows and warm bath, the small being plastered a polite smile to his face and move forward…he just knew his night would not probably not have a peaceful ending, but a hobbit could always dream.

+++

Bilbo was completely entranced as they exited the long tunnels of stairs to find himself on a high platform at the end of which stood a translucent white pedestal that the rays of the moon rendered with an ethereal glow. The waterfalls running all around them with their mist made the whole space feel out of reality and dreamy. He was following Balin and staying close to the older dwarf who had taken his time climbing the stairs. Gandalf, Elrond and Thorin had congregated around the platform and talked in hushed voices watching as the map revealed it’s secret.

The hobbit understood the gist of the meaning, they would have to leave soon, time was short and from the tone of voice the elf king was using he wasn’t approving of their quest in the least now that he knew the full purpose. Thorin glare said all it needed to say, he grabbed his map, holding it close to his heart and was the first one gone followed closely by Balin and the grey wizard.

Left alone with the great elf, the smaller being forced a smile. Elrond stared at the hobbit with a long searching gaze and Bilbo knew he should have followed the dwarves quick exit, now he was trapped to have the conversation the brown hair elf had wanted the two of them to have since he had seen Legolas.

“If I may Master Baggins, could I have a moment of your time?” The hobbit gave a small nod and turned to face the elf to give him his full attention. With the sound of the waterfalls around them and as high as they were, no one would spy on their conversation and he was sure this was the elf purpose. “Your son, and I only wish to consul you with your permission on this…”

“I’ve heard that it’s not wise to seek the consul of elves for they will answer with both yes and no.” Bilbo chimed in, but he was quite serious, having a feeling where the conversation was heading. “You wish to consul because you know something I do not, and wish to use me and mine to your advantage or you truly wish to consul me out of the goodness of your heart?”

Elrond face darken for a moment before a small smile curved his lips. He inclined his head conceding. “I head hobbits were resilient and wise creatures…I did not know of their sharp tongues however. You see thought me clearly, it is not that I wish to use you or your son, but there would be advantages to keeping you here, knowing what I know, yes.”

“About Legolas birth parents?” The small being caught the rapid blinks the older being tried to hide in his surprise. “You know who they are or think you do at least, would that be an incorrect assumption?”

“…it would not, no. The young elf does bare a striking resemblance to his father after all.” As much as the words came to a surprised to the hobbit, he stood unblinking and without showing any emotions. It was a surprise yes, but not a shock, Bilbo had had a feeling from the moment Elrond had showed interest in Legolas that the older being knew something about his son birth parents. But this did confirm that there was more to it than it appeared. Especially with Elrond conceding that an advantage to Rivendell could be obtained from keeping the young elf where he was.  

“Would you care to share your assumption as to Legolas birth father?”

“I could…but to be sure, would you join my consul and I, with your son tomorrow morning?” The hobbit had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, but nodded in silent agreement. He did not appreciate being toyed with and the whole mystery surrounding the older being words. “You are still and will always be very welcome to stay here with your son if you so wish.”

Elrond moved passed the hobbit ending the conversation and disappeared down the stairs, leaving Bilbo to look up at the sliver of moon that was high in the sky.

“What now?” The question as left unanswered by his astral guardian. With a deep sigh, the hobbit turned around going down the stairs as slowly as he could, taking the time to put his though in order.

He had always hoped that by coming to Rivendell his son might get some answers about his birth parents. That maybe someone would recognize signs of his lineages in his features. But now he almost feared what the answer could be. The hobbit had noticed that none of the elves in Rivendell even looked like Legolas, none with the same striking blond white hair or even his pale blue eyes. If Elrond had recognized those traits and linked them to some other elf, another elf that if the hobbit was not mistaken, Elrond either respected or feared, was it a good idea to push for an answer at this point.

Bilbo was still going over it, trying to decide what he say to Elrond the next time he saw him and if he should even entertain the elf, when he saw Gandalf and said elf waking over a bridge. Their conversation echoed to him and he could hear them talk about the dragon guarding the dwarves’ kingdom and the elf worries that they would wake him up. A worry the hobbit also shared.

“What about the young Oakenshield’s? Madness runs in his veins; can he be trusted with the task he wishes to accomplish?” The elf voice echoed into the quiet night as Gandalf jumped in to defend the dwarf sanity.

A noise behind him had the hobbit turn around to be faced with a displeased looking Thorin. They both turned back to spy on the conversation below.

“At the consul tomorrow, let’s discussed all together if this quest is truly wise and needed in these uncertain times. You know we cannot allow this to continue if…” The rest of the conversation was lost as the two being turned a corner their voice no longer reaching the two spies.

The hobbit looked back behind him at a truly angry looking Thorin. A storm was raging behind the dwarf eyes and when his focus found Bilbo’s eyes, he knew their leader had made a decision.

“I’m sure Gandalf will….” The smaller being tried, but it was cut short by Thorin’s deep voice.

“We leave at first light, I do not have time for pondering and sitting in a circle with individuals who do not share the faith of my brethren’s. We’ve already have lost enough time here; I will not waste more time in futile conversations!” The dwarf voice was resolute and the hobbit didn’t dare argue.

If Bilbo was completely honest with himself, not having to think any more about Elrond and his mysteries was a weight off the hobbit shoulders. He had agreed to help the dwarves and had grown attached to their company.

“Will you come with us?” Startled by the quiet question, Bilbo looked at Thorin, but the great king refused to meet his gaze. He wasn’t sure why, but the dwarf looked small for a moment, like he needed the reassurance that even after hearing Elrond’s words about the dwarf family madness, the hobbit would still be on his side.

“Of course we will.” Storm filled eyes finally meet his and they moved together as one to plan the next steps.

+++

Thorin was dragging his feet, sulking if you asked Bilbo, following the smaller being while muttering curses under his breath. For his part, the hobbit decided to let it slide and not comment on any of the anti-elves comments he did hear, knowing full well that the dwarves king was tired and had probably reached his limit of patience for the day. Showing grace and understanding, he took the long way around, giving the dwarf as much time as possible to let out all his steam by stomping around the empty corridors. Once they reached his room, Bilbo turned around and finally caught the taller being attention.

“Oh! Goodnight Baggins…I’ll...humm.” The dwarf voice trailed off as realization lit up his eyes. “I don’t have a room.”

“No, you do not.” Pulling on Thorin’s sleeve to make him come forward, he gently pushed him inside his own room and moved around the space lighting just enough candles to have a nice relaxing glow. The new light bathed a frankly exhausted looking dwarf and Bilbo took pity on him. Thorin truly had held out much longer than the hobbit thought he would, but now that they were in a quiet and safe space, the stress of the whole quest was crashing down on their leader in the worst of way’s. Weighing his options and the dwarf reaction, the smaller being slowly approached him and started pulling at his clothes. When no protest came, he took it as silent agreement and peel off the heavy layers of clothing that covered their leader. When the taller being only had a cotton shirt and underpants on, the dwarf finally seemed to snapped out of his quiet daze and look into Bilbo’s eyes, lost and looking so young all of a sudden. “Go take a bath, I’ll advice the other of the plan to leave before the first light and I’ll be right back.”

Thorin stood still for what felt like an eternity and with a firm but gently push from Bilbo, took one step and an another until he disappeared from view and into the bathroom. Still the hobbit stayed unmoving, listening intently, until the first sound of water being disturbed. With a deep sigh, he quickly shocked the dust out of the other’s clothes and folded them neatly on a chair. He took a moment to listen again, but the dwarf was quiet. Not wanting to leave Thorin alone for too long, he quickly got out of the room as quietly as he could.

Bilbo made quick work of his announcement, most of the dwarves were sharing a room and he made sure at least one of them was paying enough attention to his message to be sure they would all be ready when the time to leave would come. He placed the burden of taking care of the little ones on Dwalin, knowing the soldier like dwarf would probably be the one rallying them all at the expected time.

On his way back he decided to take the time to practice his quiet burglar walk, it was not something he had had time to practice a lot since the beginning of their travels and the reminded of the dragon was weighting heavy on his though. Paying attention to the echo of his feet in the empty corridor, the hobbit started focusing on the sounds, on wanting to be as quiet as possible. One step, echo, two step, echo, three…silence. Each steps after didn’t disturbed the night calm, it was like gliding above the ground, but he did feel the cold floor below his feet, it was an interesting feeling. He knew this wasn’t the first time he had walked quietly, but it had always been on instinct, doing it on purpose was a strange feeling, like he was tricking his mind into thinking he was in danger. He was still focused on being quiet as he silently and slowly opened the door to his room and walked directly into the bathroom to look in on Thorin.

The bathroom was quite big, with a large window showing the stars and a truly breathtaking view of Rivendell. The large circular bathtub made of stone had a direct connection to what the hobbit assume was a natural warm water source, since he could still see steam rising from the water. The dwarf, leaning on one side of the tub, submerged in the water to his chin, was lost in his though, gaze fixing an invisible target and his brows furrowed. The smaller being approached to talk to him and must have stop concentrating, because his foot hit something that had been lying on the floor, a small empty glass bottle and before he knew what was happening he was drenched. Thorin had jumped, startled by the noise and had reached for his sword, which thankfully wasn’t in the bath with him and the movement had sent water all over the place and most specifically on a now gasping and drenched hobbit.

“BY VALA AULE HOBBIT!” The dwarf was glaring at the hobbit, who was still staring at him in disbelief. “Make a noise or something next time, I could have killed you!”

“You certainly tried to drown me.” Bilbo mumbled pulling at his wet clothes. “You hired me to sneak into a dragon lair and now you complain I can actually sneak around a room quietly. Here’s your proof of my usefulness I guess!”

The dwarf sputtered under his breath, but the moment he truly looked at the smaller drenched being discarding his clothes grumpily, a small laugh escaped him.

“Don’t you dare!” Bilbo glared mockingly as the other had to sat back down in the water still laughing.

“You look ridiculous…like a drown kitten.” The dwarf huffed.

“And whose fault is that!” Bilbo threw his last piece of clothing to the floor and mourned them for a moment knowing he would not be able to have them dried before they were expected to leave, at least his bag might get a little lighter. “Move!”

“What…what are you doing hobbit?” Climbing into the bath, it was such a big bath clearly made for an elf to be comfortable and with more than enough space to host a dwarf and a hobbit. The water was wonderfully warm, just like he had guessed and smelled of herbs. One look around the tub confirm the presence of beautiful little bottles of oils and soaps that the dwarf had most likely poured into the water earlier.

“Relaxing and taking advantage of the only bath I might be able to enjoy on this journey.” Bilbo allowed himself to sink into the warm water with a blissful noise and saw the dwarf looking around with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Come now, don’t try and tell me you’ve never washed with your fellow travelers, no reason to be shy.”

“I’m not!....I’m not saying…I did….ugh.” Thorin finally met his gaze and after a moment seemed to relaxed again with a deep sigh. “Not in such an intimate setting, no, but I see your point.”

“Such a romantic.” The smaller being giggled when a splash of water to the face was his only answer. “Can you pass me something to wash my hair?”

Once again a small blush rose to the dwarf cheek and to the tip of his ears, but no comments was made as Thorin moved aside and selected some bottles over some others. The dwarf king hair was already wet so Bilbo assume he had already washed them and knew what to use. He extended his hand to take the bottle, but Thorin didn’t hand them over.

“Turn around I’ll wash your hair.” Now it was the smaller being turn to be surprised.

“Hummm…really?” The dwarf smiled clearly happy to have caught the other by surprised this time around and any hint to shyness was now gone.

“Yes, turn around hobbit.” Bilbo gave him a playful glare, but complied, turning around he tilted his head back for better access.

The hobbit waited patiently, looking at the small ripples of water hitting his elbows as the dwarf moved around in the water behind him. He would hear the glass bottles clinking against each other while Thorin made his choices. Sleepiness was coming back to claim the smaller being when he felt large, but careful hands on his head. The dwarf was strangely gentle and very thorough, not that the hobbit would ever complain about this turn of event. Strong and callus fingers moved around his scalp with firm but strangely tender movements. The hobbit hair was pulled away from his face and he could feel blunt nail scratching his tender skin in all the right spots. It had been a while since he had been pampered by someone else than his son and this felt very…trusting. He wasn’t very well versed in dwarves’ custom, but he did have an inkling that hair and braiding did play an important part in their relationship. The fact that the great dwarf king had volunteered to do this for the smaller being seemed meaningful to Thorin and helped the other focus on something other than the heavy responsibility of a leader.

His hair was washed and cleaned once and the dwarf continued with single focus on his task. Bilbo could hear the sounds of bottles being moved and he could smell different herbal smells as his hair was pulled and each curls was tenderly spun around the dwarf fingers one by one. The silence was soon filled with soft humming. Thorin’s voice was deep and relaxing, filling the air and space, creating a bubble of calm and peace they had both needed. When he was done, the taller being gave the hobbit neck a gentle squeeze and they settled in the warm soapy water next to each other, relaxing as both their eyes grew heavy with sleep. The hobbit was leaning the strong shoulder next to him, trusting that if he feel asleep in the water Thorin would not let him drown. The dwarf for his part was leaning back, his head resting on the side of the tub, still humming softly under his breath, the moment was frozen in time, fragile and magical.

Not wanting to break the peace that had settled between them, both the hobbit and dwarf got out of the water at their own pace. Bilbo was yawning, barely able to keep his eyes open. He felt strong hands help to dry his body and hair as he was pushed into the bedroom gently but firmly once he had felt dry enough to not soak the bed with scented water. Only with years of reflex was he able to pull his nightshirt over his head without strangling himself and crawled into bed, letting his heavy head hit the pillow with a soft groaned of pleasure.

The blanket was pulled over him and Bilbo opened one eye to see Thorin climbing in next to him after he had blown out all the candles. The dwarf caught his gaze and the hobbit was hit once again by how young the dwarf looked with this face relaxed and at peace for once. Still feeling grateful for Thorin’s previous actions, the smaller being rolled over and pressed himself to the dwarf side nuzzling in at his side with a happy sigh. The bigger being froze for a moment, but soon melted into the other warmth and reached over to curled around the hobbit accepting the quiet comfort. No words were exchanged as both being fell into a deep sleep sharing their warmth and taking comfort in each other.

Once the time to leave came, they both allowed themselves one last moment of comfort with a loose hug letting time pass until it was time to separate. They both slide of their side of the bed, packing and moving in sync, still enjoying the quiet comfort the other offered by simply sharing each other space.

Once everything was packed and they were ready to joined the others, Bilbo reached out to open the door and was stopped by a strong hand over his. Looking over with a questioning gaze the smaller being was greeted by a soft gaze and Thorin leaned forward resting his forehead to his. They both took in a deep breath before separating.

“Thank you.” The words were more of a rumble and once the door was open, the hard gaze and resolution of the dwarf king was back on his face, erasing all softness and youth in a moment. The spell was broken by the first rays of the sun that touched their face and with new purposes they moved as one down the quiet corridors to rejoined their group and quest.

Chapter Text

The hobbit and his son walked at the end of the convoy letting the morning sun warm their backs as they discussed the conversation he had with Lord Elrond. Bilbo would not hide anything from his child in regards to his origins and would not have begrudge the young elf if he had wished to turn back and have his own conversation with the older elf. But just like he had already guessed, if the hobbit wasn’t going back to Rivendell than neither was the blond elf. Where one went to other followed. The smaller being commitment to the dwarf was now quite important to him now that they felt like family and Legolas seemed to be on the same opinion, seeing the bond he had created with the three younglings. 

“Even if he knew who my birth father is, you are still my one and only father.” Legolas grumbled under his breath. “If I do resemble the elf who participate in my birth enough that Lord Elrond knew, he must not be the only one with this knowledge…I actually wouldn’t be surprised if Gandalf knew and kept quiet for one of his many mysterious reasons.” 

“Fair point!” The hobbit agreed. He hadn’t really through much about the possibility of the grey wizard keeping such a secret, but knowing the old being it was indeed a possibility. The fact that he too would keep it a mystery was weighing slightly on the hobbit’s mind; how bad could Legolas father be if everyone who might know decided to keep quiet? The next time they would have the chance to meet some elves, the hobbit would try harder to uncover the truth, his curiosity had grown enough to now demand more research. If only to finally have an answer for his son in regards to his origins. Good or bad it was better to know than to stay in the dark even longer.

They did not turn back once, their focus forward, even though they had abandoned the grey wizard behind, they all knew Gandalf would catch up to them at some point. For being the oldest in this little convoy, when he needed too the old wizard could move quite quickly.

Their progress was faster than usual, everyone in the company had benefited from the abundance of food and the softness of their beds to accumulate energy for the next stretch of the quest and it truly showed. The road was quiet and for once no hint of danger or threat to their life appeared. The sun stayed high in the sky and they had all hoped they would be able to have another good night of sleep, but unfortunately for them all, the sky suddenly grew grey and black during their ascension of the mountain. When the first fat drop of water hit them, they all knew that trouble was coming. The fact that the rain started well into their mountain ascension, also ruled out the possibility of turning back and waiting it out at the base of the rocky road. The was no tree or vegetation anymore, no shelter, only the rocks and the void below.

The ledge they found themselves on seemed to shorten and become more and more unstable as the heavy rain turned angrier. All of them had to move slower and slower, their visibility getting worst with each onslaught of heavy rain that half blinded them. Their footing getting more and more unsure as the rocks grew more and more slippery. It was a treacherous climb, that brought tears of frustration to the hobbit’s eyes, luckily hidden by the rain that plastered his hair to his scalp. Many times, more than he cared to count at this point, Legolas had to grab as fast as he could when any of the dwarf around him lost their footing almost plunging into the dark abyss below.  Even the hobbit, who should have had the best grip with this bare feet, was struggling and slipped many times, always rescued by a strong hand the moment panic shoot through his bond with his son. When even Dwalin slipped and almost feel to his dead below, only rescued by a fast acting Thorin and Bofur, they all had enough and couldn’t go on. Once the soldier dwarf was safely pulled back up to the ledge, the whole company hugged the rocky wall, their tired and cold fingers gripping the rocks for any chance of stability. Fili and Kili had, thankfully, stayed closed to the elf, Legolas making sure they always stayed at arm reach and together. But if they continued like this, they all knew someone would fall and disappear into the darkness below sooner rather than later. The hobbit fought with the rain hammering his face to catch their leader gaze and they both nodded to each other in silent agreement that this folly needed to stop.

Motioning for the rest of the company to stay put with long gestures, since they could not hear each other voices and could barely see, Thorin moved ahead with Dwalin to find refuge. With a sigh the smaller being placed his face against the rocks to take a break from the cold water and felt a strong hand on his back keeping him grounded. One peek to the side confirm to the hobbit, that his son was still standing strong, no signs of tiredness on his face, he even looked less drenched than all of them combined. It was slightly frustrating if not fascinating to see the element bent to the will of the young elf.

Fili and Kili were both wrapped around one of the elf leg trusting the taller being to stay put more than the rocks behind them. Just beyond them, he could see Ori held firmly by the lapel of his shirt by Bombur who had a dead grip on the younger dwarf. The hobbit felt a squeeze on his arm and turned his head forward. Up ahead he could see a figure he knew to be Thorin motioning them forward, hopefully they had found shelter ahead and not too far from their position. As one, one small step at the time they moved forward, always careful as rocks rolled down under their foot.

After one last sharp turn, they saw the cave entrance where Dwalin stood guard. The big dwarf pulled them in with secure hands, gently pushing them forward into the depth of the cave and away from the rain. Moving forward slowly, they entered a large warm open space that would be the perfect refuge for their shivering bodies. Bofur made quick work of a fire having been smart enough to carry dry wood in his bag that he had collected along the way.

The cave was soon filled with a warm glow as they all changed their clothes and shared dried food. Every member was finding a spot to rest, hang their wet clothes and relax. The hobbit could still hear the echoes for the angry rain coming down from the tunnel of the cave and silently hoped that it would not be a lasting rain.

“Father I…” Bilbo had just turned around to face his son when the ground below them opened and a swarm of clawed hands grabbed at them pulling them into the depth of the cave. He heard shouts of surprise and shock, his vision going in all directions as he was pulled and tugged this way and that way. The hobbit’s everything was pulled in every direction, his hair, his clothes, his skin…his whole body felt like it was pulled in every which way, rocks catching his skin when clammy hands didn’t.

He hit his head particularly hard and felt strong hands, this time gentler pull him up, he caught sight of a bald head and tattoos he associated with Dwalin. The small being was carried, his small body bouncing in strong arms, when once again clammy rough hands pulled him back. This time he had a glimpse of panic filled blue eyes and then nothing.

Just darkness.

+++

(For Bilbo POV read The Hobbit Chapter V – Riddles in the Dark)

+++

The dwarf king was pulled in all directions, not able to know for sure which was up and which was down. Blood was rushing rapidly to his head and into his hears muffling the sounds and screams around him into an incoherent whisper that filled his head making it impossible to think. He couldn’t identify a sound, all was chaos, yelling, he could hear the echo of his companions confused and scared voices trying to find each other, fighting for their lives. When the sea of darkness and hands gave way and his feet hit the ground, Thorin was in a vast cave, filled on all side with goblins, snickering vile little creatures pushing him around and forward, toward a precarious looking wooden bridge. He didn’t even have time to react when his sword was pulled from his side, but his body pushed in another direction. He could catch glimpses of his other companions, looking everywhere for his nephews and the hobbit.

The whole cave was illuminated with torches, casting long shadows all over the rocks as the goblins, jumped, climbed and ran around the walls surrounding the bridge. It was a nightmarish scene to be trusted into when just a moment ago the whole descent had felt like being dragged to his death by all his madness ridden ancestor.

Angry looking mouths filled with sharp teeth appeared and disappeared before his eyes, growling and spitting in his face every time he tried to get closer this one of his companions, the gobbling working to keep them together, but separated and easier to keep in check. They were pushed, dragged and pulled through many caves, until the opening suddenly became much larger and an entire goblin city came into view. Much brighter than the rest of the cave, Thorin could see as they advance on the precarious wooden bridge, that seemed to shake under their feet with each steps, what looked like a throne much farther ahead. Focusing on the throne since it was the only thing he could see clearly without having a snarling face in his, the dwarf king saw the biggest most hideous goblin he had ever seen dancing on his throne to the sounds of drums.

As they reached the throne, the goblins in front of Thorin ran forward pilling their smaller body in front of the throne to allowed the enormous being to use his brethren’s body as a step. The dwarf winced hearing their little bodies bones snap and their last moans of suffering as the ones at the bottom of the pile became corpses under the weight.

The other dwarves were pushed behind Thorin in a half circle, now weaponless and surrounded by a swarm of goblins and faced with their king. He chanced a glance behind him, catching sight of his two nephew with a sigh of relief that was short lived. In between his two nephews, Legolas was slumped forward his hair covering his face, looking unconscious and he noticed some red on what he could see of the elf forehead. The fact that Bilbo was nowhere to be seen, because he knew the hobbit would have been right next to his son goblins or no goblins with the young one in such a state, made his blood run cold. Had they kill the hobbit, had his body been left behind, discarded like the ones piled up in front of the goblin king throne. Every gruesome scenario that flash into his head, was interrupted by the heavy clang of their weapons being thrown at the feet of the glossy eye goblin king.

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” The enormous creature voice was guttural, full of rumbles and of high-pitched spikes, reverbing on the walls of the cave. “Spy, thieves! ASSASSINS!” The last word was shricked and send pain through Thorin’s ears.

“Dwarves your malevolence!” The goblin next to him chimed in proud to be able to answer the King’s question where none of the dwarves particularly wished too. “We found them on the front porch!”

“Well don’t just stand there! SEARCH THEM! Every cracks, every CREVASSE!” The goblin king yelled, madness shining in his bulging eyes.

Goblins started pulling at them once more as if they could find more than what they had already ripped away from the dwarves’ bodies. Pushed back, Thorin used this as an excuse to get closer to his nephew’s and the unmoving elf. Once he was closer to Fili, he leaned down as if he had stumbled.

“Where's Bilbo?” Fili shook his head, his eyes filled with tears, the young one looked panicked still. “What happened to Legolas?”

“They hit him…”Fili took a deep breath recognizing this wasn’t the time to panic and that they might not be able to speak like this again without the goblin’s king attention on them. “They hit him on the skull when he tried to move to the back of the group, I don’t know where Bilbo went or if he was taken somewhere else…but Legolas panicked and they hit him until he stopped moving to be able to drag him here.”

“Is he….” Thorin could barely say the words, he would not, could never face the hobbit again if the elf was…

“He’s breathing! He’s alive!” Kili jumped in from the other side. “When he fell we made sure to keep him between us to stop the beating.”

“Good lads.” Thorin whispered back giving them a proud smile.

“THEY ARE IN LEAGUES WITH ELVES!” At the shrill voice, the dwarf king turned around. The creature was holding a candlestick, probably from Rivendell, with disgust. He did wonder if the goblins in their frenzy had not noticed Legolas ears yet. With his dishevels appearance at the moment and his ears hidden by his hair, the young elf could pass for human. Moving to block the goblin king view of the blond just in case, Thorin turned back to face the creature.

“What are you doing in these parts?” The crowned goblin asked leaning toward the dwarves. “No tricks I want the truth! Warts and all!”

All dwarves stayed quiet looking at each other, Thorin was about to step forward when Bofur voice rose from the mass. “Just for information’s, I’m the one you should speak too! Well…we were on the roads, well not so much a road as a path you know…actually it’s not even that come to think of it. It’s more like a track, anyway the point was…what was the point? Ah yes, the point was, we was on a road or a track and then we weren’t, which is a problem! Because you know, we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday…and you know…humm”

“Yes! Visiting relations, family!” Pipped in one of the dwarves behind Bofur.

“Some brethren on my mother side or maybe dad side, and….:” Bofur started again.

“SHUTTT UPPPP!” The gobbling king yelled in anger, interrupting Bofur’s tattling. The hat dwarf opened his mouth once again, but one glossy murderous looked had him shut it with a contrite look. “If they will not talk we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the man-glerrrr! Bring out the bone breakerrrrr!”

The creature hovered over them, pointing at Ori with a sinister smile, his voice going almost softer, filled with the promise of violence. “Start with the youngest.”

“WAIT!” Thorin’s voiced echoed through the cave, he moved forward pulling Dwalin in his place to keep close to the young ones and making sure Ori was moved to his nephew’s side.

“Well, well, well look who it is! Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, KING! Under the mountain.” The goblin giant gave a mocking bow, his crowned head dipping low, but it was short lived, his grinning face popping back up, full of sneer. “OH! But I’m forgetting, you don’t have a mountain and…you’re not a king. Not anymore, not of anything! Which makes YOU…nobody really.”

Nothing could be said, nothing could be argued, the vile creature was simply stating facts, facts that hunted Thorin’s every waking hours and weight upon him at all time. He knew he carried the title of king, the title passed on to him by his proud father and grandfather, knew his people still gave him the grace of the title, but what was he king off…if not his own delusions of his family past glory.  

“I know someone…who would pay a pretty price for your head.” A soft chuckle escaped the creature, his voice almost turning dreamy. “Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A pale orc, astride a white warg.”

“…Azog the Defiler.” The dwarf answer under his breath but loud enough to be heard. “Was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago!”

“So you think his defiling days are done?” The sinister laugh that came out of the creature sent shivers down his spine. The goblin king turned to a small creature on a swing with its arms full of tablets on which he wrote. “Send word to the pale orc. Tell him I’ve found his prize!”

The small creature on the swing laughed its eyes locking in with Thorin’s for a brief moment before it was sliding away, it’s little cries of excitement making the blood in the dwarf body run cold. He knew, he had seen the pale orc fall into battle, losing an arm and so much blood. It was impossible…no was it really impossible? They had known they were followed, known that orcs were on their trail, he had simply never even imagined that one of them might be his old foe. Never had even wanted to entertain the idea that this single minded, battle and blood born pale monster would still come after him after all this time.

Thorin was pulled out if his dark, horror filled memories, be the clacking and banging of heavy torture device being pulled and dragged toward them, the bridge under their feet shaking more and more angrily as it approached them. He didn’t have time for this, he couldn’t fall back into his despair and nightmares. Not here, not like this, he might be the king of nothing and nobody to all of Middle Earth, but the dwarves around him had placed their trust in him. That trust alone was keeping him going, keeping him standing, he could not falter here.

“I know that sword! It is the goblin cleaver!” The dwarf attention was snapped back to the present, one of the goblin had pull his sword out of his sheath and thrown it with a startle at the giant creature feet. The goblin king climbed on top of his throne with a shriek, sending all around them into a frenzy. Thorin and all the other moved to defend themselves as the goblins reached for their weapons when he heard the smallest of voice behind him.

“…uncle.” He whirled around ready to strike whoever or whatever had made his nephew’s voice so filled with worry. But all he saw was Legolas now kneeling on his own between the two young dwarves and muttering first softly, but then louder and louder, in a mix of elvish and common tongue, the elf eyes still closed, rocking back and forth, looking possess.

“…where….where…WHERE, what….what is….where? WHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!” One bold goblin with a lance was able to reach passed the two young dwarves, probably to jab the young elf in the middle of his frenzy. Thorin shouted, rushing forward trying to stop it, but froze…

Faster than anyone could see or follow, Legolas jumped up to his feet, the lance was pulled out of the attacking goblin hands and turned against him piercing his body from one side to the other like it was made of soft butter. Thorin could see the bloodied end of the lance that had went through the small body and up to half the lance had already passed into the goblin’s body. The silence that feel over the cave was eerie, all stopped moving as Legolas lifted the lance still holding the goblin’s body up with one arm like it weighted absolutely nothing to him and pointed it at the goblin’s king. His other hand came up pushing his hair away from this face and revealing his ears.

What completely terrified Thorin was the elf eyes. He had spent enough time with the young elf, to know his eye color and even the different shades of them depending on the surrounding lighting or even the young one’s emotions. This…this pure dark blue, almost dark, soulless pit of madness wasn’t normal. Legolas entire focus was on the giant creature still pointing at him with the lance adorn with a twitching corpse.

“Where.is.my.father?” The elf tone was clipped, monotone, devoid of any emotions. Thorin had meet enough elves in his life to know they could completely turn off their emotions if they so wish too. It was a survival instinct after so many years of living, the only way to keep going without going insane really. But this was to a level he had never seen and it was genuinely the most scared he had ever been of an elf.

“…what?” The creature voice broke for a moment, the silence stretching in the open cave, all of the being’s hair standing up like they were faced with a predator. The giant shocked himself, trying to regain his standing, while still firmly staying on top of his throne, working hard not to show fear to his mass of frozen soldiers. “If he isn’t here elf scum, then death is your best bet! And you’ll soon…”

“Is that your choice?” Legolas gave the lance a hard swing, sending the corpse to bounce back on the wall across from them and right behind the creature’s throne. The wet gurgling sound of the corpse hitting the wall echoed in the cave. “I just want an answer, not your rhymes and pandering, just an answer. Where is my father? It’s such a simple one, can’t you just answer it?”

“DO YOU SEE ANOTHER ELF HERE! WHAT DO I KNOW OF A DEAD ELF IN MY CAVES!” The goblin king bellowed in anger.

Still the elf voice stayed so calm and even. “He’s not an elf, so where? I feel him, I know he’s alive, don’t lie to me.”

“WHAT!?!?!?” Clearly fed up with the crazed elf, the king jumped forward. “KILL HIM! KILL THEM ALL! GIVE ME THEIR HEADS, THEIR HEARTS! NOW!”

The swarm of goblins moved as one pilling on the dwarves trying to tear them apart, separate them and pin them to the ground. Thorin tried to resist, the keep close to his companions, but even he was pulled down, a goblin straddling him as the goblin king yelled over all the chaos to behead all of them. He could see from the corner of his eye a flurry of quick movements as Legolas still stood with his blood covered lance in one hand, his other hand now armed with a spiked looking weapon, standing strong above the two young dwarves that had taken refuge next to him. Nothing could reach the trio, the elf was a tornado of death, his eyes dark and his face completely blank. Thorin watch the blade above his head, trapped under his attacker pinned down, helpless and accepted his fate knowing that at least his nephews might make it out alive by the grace of the elf frenzied blood lust. 

The blade started its arch toward his neck, he only wished for a quick death, he didn’t want to see more of his brethren’s fall, didn’t want to see dwarves blood spilled as he lay there powerless hearing them fight as best they could to not lose their life. Just let it end and give him peace...

A white blinding light engulfed them all followed by a strong wind that pushed away all but himself and his companions, his attackers now clinging to him to not be blown away by the sudden attack. It lasted but a moment, but when it stopped and the cave now barely light up and quiet stopped being blinded by light, he saw their savior standing at the end of the wooden bridge staff and sword in hand.

“Take up arms, fight! FIGHT!” Gandalf voice boomed heard by all the dwarves, who jumped and move as fast as they could to reach their discarded swords and weapons.

In a flurry of movements and blood, all his companions found themselves armed and fighting, sending corpse flying down the bridge and impaling goblins left and right to create a path. Thorin armed with the goblin cleaver turned on the king first, slaying all on his path with single focus. The enormous and strong being waved his staff toward the dwarf who moved with great speed, pushing back, slashing forward, never giving the vile monster any chance to defend himself. He hit with furry, letting his war build muscles take over watching with satisfaction the look of pure horror fill the hideous goblin face as he slashed open his belly and pushed him into the abyss, watching the huge body hit rocks after rocks on his way down. Around him his companions did the same, fighting and taking back their belonging as they went.

Turning around to locate his nephew’s, he saw them standing close to the elf who had not moved from his spot, even when they had all been blasted by the light and wind, still the elf stood his ground. Now armed with his bow, arrows and two swords, that Thorin had to assume his nephew’s had given him, the sight was welcomed but still disturbing. At the very least the blond elf focus was on killing as many goblins as he could, but the dwarf could see Legolas was also protecting his companions. One goblin moved into Fili’s blind spot armed with a knife and was promptly decapitate, his body kicked into the void below without the elf even looking in his direction.  

Thorin was trying to find an exit a direction to run to, when his gaze fell back to the elf. Something was wrong he didn’t know what exactly, but one moment Legolas was cutting three goblins with one swipe of his sword and shooting another one in the head with an arrow, his movements were so fast it was easier to count the bodies around him and then to try to follow his fighting, the next his blue eyes turned black. Absolute darkness, pure black and his already pale skin looked even more white almost translucent, the dwarf could swear he could see the blood running into the elf veins.

The young elf, who now looked ethereal with his white glowing skin and his pitch black eyes, stood still untouched by the chaos around him, protected in this moment by the young dwarves next to him. Legolas gaze moved around the cave slowly, Thorin could almost fell magic reaching into every croaks and crannies of the rocks around them probing, searching. Even Gandalf now stood unmoving like he was afraid of whatever was coming out of the blond elf. Some of the goblins started backing away once they felt the strange energy, looking very uncertain.

“Tell me where.” Legolas voice was monotone, deep, not his own anymore.

The elf head snapped toward the east, his gaze focus and bolted in the direction. Any goblins that even tried or thought of trying to stop him was obliterated by the being swords, blood seemed to fly and levitate around the young elf like it was attracted into his orbit before falling away caught again by reality.

“FOLLOW THE ELF!” Thorin shouted at the top of his lung. Every head turned his way as he pointed to the blond figure. “FOLLOW HIM! NOW! NOW! NOW!”

They all moved, fighting, keeping the goblins away. As the company was able to reach the running elf, less and less goblins appeared. Only a few corpse here and there as they ran up the long corridors, blindly following the crazed elf.

Thorin and Gandalf at the back exchanged a look of worry, but they couldn’t stop, they could only pray that wherever the elf was running would be salvation. When he glimpsed some light ahead, the dwarf could have cried as deep relief crashed into him. They pushed ahead running faster and faster until they were out in the open and under the sun. All the dwarves were on the ground painting and huffing, trying to catch their breath, letting the warmth of the sun and the fresh air confirm they were alive.

“…hum uncle?” Kili’s voice had Thorin’s attention snapping to his precious nephews. Were they bleeding, injured, missing a limb…please no, not them, please.

But Kili and Fili were fine, standing to the side looking at the elf. Legolas was frozen stiff, black eyes unfocused and still with that strange magic pulsing around him. Scared to even touch him, he approached slowly, all the dwarves moved also exchanging worried glances between them.

“Legolas, are you…” Thorin started, reaching out to touch the elf, but he was cut short when the elf entire body shuddered and his attention snapped behind them, his eyes going back to clear blue, his skin returning to a healthy glow.

“…there.” The word was not much more than a whisper mix in with a sigh of relief.

They all turned as one, almost expecting more goblins to find a tired looking but very alive hobbit who seemed to have appeared out of thin air, walking toward them with a smile of relief on his face. The small being raised his arm in salutation and was about to speak, when he was tackled to the ground by a flurry of long limbs and blond hair. Thorin hadn’t even seen the elf move, didn’t even know how he had passed through the circle of dwarves surrounding him, but Legolas was now wrapped tightly around the hobbit refusing to move or let him get off the ground.

“Legolas! Sweetheart…oh my heart, my sweet sweet boy.” Approaching the two, the dwarf could barely see the hobbit trapped under the elf. Bilbo looked unscathed and in one piece from what he could see. “Well…hello there. What happened?”

“What happened to you? How did you escape?” The hobbit moved around a little, but kept a strong grip on the elf in his arms, caressing his hair. Legolas barely moved, just moving his head enough to nuzzle and hide into the hobbit’s neck.

“I fell, well…I think I fell, I hit my head and woke up….I’m not sure where I was, but it was dark and damp and…ugh I met a thing, nasty little fellow that wouldn’t stop talking. When I managed to escaped, I saw you all running in front of an entrance I was about to pass….” A small grimace contorted the hobbit face like he was reviving the moment, but he didn’t go into the details. “and I followed you out.”

Thorin did notice the hobbit sword at his side, meaning it had been in his hand and probably used and choose not to push further. Crouching down next to the smaller being, he tentatively reached out to the elf face and pushed the blond hair away to see that Legolas eyes were closed and his breathing slow.

“WHAT!?!? Thorin Oakenshield why is my son bleeding?” Bilbo was staring at the wound on his son head and to the blood covering the elf body with mounting horror as his gaze traveled to all of them. “What happened to him? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“Honestly hobbit…I’m not even sure any of the blood aside from the one on his forehead is his.” The hobbit was gaping at him with raised eyebrows. The other dwarves nervously giggling, not one of them courageous enough to explain to the hobbit what had happened, not that Thorin could even begin to explain it himself. “We…”

A deep howling that chilled the dwarf blood and brought back memories of war pierce the quiet forest air. He jumped back up, looking at the cliff above them and his eyes settled on the one orc he had prayed to never see again. Dwalin pushed him away, bringing back his focus to the present, the bigger dwarf effortlessly secured the elf to his back, Bilbo moving quickly now that he was free to tie the elf hands and feet’s so Dwalin could use his hands without worry if he needed to fight and making sure the elf was secure enough that he would not be lost once they needed to star running.  

The hobbit and dwarf exchanged a long look once Dwalin moved to help the others.

Thorin was truly grateful for the presence of the hobbit on this journey as the smaller being made sure he was focus on the present and ready to move, small hands running quickly over his body looking for injuries, before releasing a sigh of relief when he found none. Bilbo was always the first one to reach for him, to make sure he was alright, to make the extra effort to understand the dwarf king state of mind and it made him want to rely on his presence more and more. The hobbit gave him a gentle squeeze when he confirmed that their leader was stable and ready for what was coming, the smaller being moving to Dwalin side and the others as they started to run once again.

“Out of the frying-pan.”

“Into the fire.” Gandalf finished for him. They exchanged one final look, making sure the whole company was moving at good speed and started running, following their companions closely as the howls and growls grew nearer behind them.  

Chapter Text

Bilbo was running as fast as he could, keeping pace with the tattooed dwarf carrying his son. He had wanted to ask so many questions, to know why his son was now passed out with no signs of waking up, what had happened while he had been busy keeping up with that strange little creature in the cave and why had Thorin looked so horrified when he had seen that white orc, when previously any orc sighting had only brought annoyance.

But of course as was now part of the course on this quest, they didn’t have time to talk or catch their breath, they needed to run, always run. If he ever got back to the Shite one day, he would be the hobbit with the best legs and the most stamina. He had been told all his life that hobbit’s were creatures of comfort, not build for adventures or quest, but keeping up with his companions and quite well at that if you asked him, he was starting to believe one lazy hobbit had started that tale to not have to participate in any adventure and it had simply become the accepted hobbit’s lore.

Gandalf started yelling louder behind them, urgency lacing his voice. “Run! RUNNN!”

He didn’t dare look back anymore, howling filled his ears promising only blood and death if he dared slowed down for a look at their fast approaching pursuer. The path grew more and more steep, making it harder and harder to stay up as they were descending faster and more chaotically. Big rocks and trees were in their way forcing them to jump and weave between them while trying as best they could to stay together and not get separated. Bilbo was pushed firmly but gently to the side by Dwalin just as he was about to run into a tree. Trying to get his footing back, the hobbit avoided another big rock and was shocked when his eyes caught a glimpse of dirty grey fur above his head.

Looking up and trying to backtrack as much as he could, the small being was faced with sharp snarling yellow teeth as the warg turned on him ready to devour the hobbit. The beast abandoned his pursuit of the dwarves turning his full attention to the hobbit, droll falling to the ground as Bilbo saw his legs bend ready to jump and attack him. In panic, he pulled his trusted sword pointing it toward the vile beast when it charges toward him with full force. Bilbo barely had time to place the sword before him, that he felt the forehead of the beast against the tip of his weapon and tried pushing against it. He watched on in despair, fear overwhelming him as the tip of the sword stayed firmly outside of its target. He wasn’t strong enough to break through the thick warg skull and tried to push back, but his feet couldn’t get any traction. His back hit against the trunk of a solid tree the instant the warg gave a strong push forward. Willing his arms to stay still and firm, absorbing the shock of the charge attack, he watched as his sword slid to the hilt into the beast skull. There was a moment of stillness, fear that the warg would look up and bite his neck off. But the creature finally went lifeless, limp as it fell to the side, the hobbit sword still firmly lodged right between its dead empty eyes.

The scream of another dwarf being chased by one of the other warg, startled Bilbo out of his morbid fixation on the corpse in front of him. He moved pulling his sword out, he had to fight and tug a couple of time for it to come out with a sickening crunching sound. Around him he could see Thorin and others fighting, while more ran forward still. Once all the wargs had been killed they moved, their leader pulling him forward and into the open. The wide open nothingness of a cliff. They were all stopped, looking around in a panic, but there was no way out, no way to escape. Behind them the hobbit could see a wave of wargs coming down the hill at a fast pace, almost upon them, when the grey wizard strong voice washed over them.

“Up into the trees! Come on all of you! CLIMB!”

The dwarves didn’t waste any time, pushing boosting and helping each other to reach the lowest branches. Bilbo was grabbed by the waist by Thorin and thrown up into the air before he could even think of how he would reach any of the branches. In his surprise he almost fell back down, but another hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him up. Looking up he saw Fili and Kili above him, it was Kili who had caught him and helped the hobbit to climb up. They climbed and climbed as high as they could. Sitting on the biggest looking branches on either side of the tree, the hobbit looked around trying to find Dwalin and his son. His panic gaze jumping from one dwarf decorated tree to another, he did briefly spotted Gandalf…was the grey wizard playing with a butterfly at a time like this!

Ignoring it for now, he looked away and finally found blond hair flying in the wind. Dwalin was farther away with Bofur and Bombur. The soldier dwarf gave the small being a nod showing that the elf was still secured to his back. With a hand over his heart Bilbo nodded in thanks.

“Where’s uncle?” Fili’s little voice, had Bilbo scanning the trees furiously once more, trying to locate their leader. He spotted Thorin in the farthest tree closest to the cliff and was about to point him out to his nephew when he heard the hushed voices coming from below.

Looking down, he could see between the branches, the orcs on top of the wargs speaking, but he couldn’t quite catch what was being said. Which turned out not to be an issue, when the pale orc pointed toward the trees and wargs started rushing them. The beast jumped so high nipping and biting at the branches just below them while their large body hit the trunks of their tree shaking their safe heaven almost out of its roots. Bilbo had his sword in hand ready to jab at any warg that came too close to him or his young companions. Dwalin was taking care of his son and he would protect Thorin’s nephews.

The hobbit could see the frustration of the beast bellow as they started to hit their bodies against the tree trunks harder and harder. Dread filled his body when he heard more than saw, the roots of the trees around start to let go and stop fighting to stay in the ground. The first tree that went down with dwarves was pushed forward and he motioned for the young ones to climb higher in urgency.

“Up! Go UP! Quickly!” Another hit, another shake and their own tree started falling forward, he made sure before jumping into the next tree that the young ones had been caught by the other dwarves and hadn’t fallen. Bofur strong hand caught him and plastered him to the trunk of the tree when his footing was unsure. It only lasted a moment, until tree after tree were pushed down forcing the company to move and jump from their fallen sanctuary. When all of them found themselves in the last tree standing, the one that had been at the edge of the cliff, the hobbit looked around making sure all the young ones were in one piece and that his son was still with Dwalin.

The wargs approached with the laughter of the orcs resonating right behind them. He looked up to see Gandalf light up with magic a dry pinecone and threw it to the ground now littered with dry branches and leafs from the fallen trees. The fire, probably aided by the grey wizard magic started to quickly spread forward and around them, forcing the four legged beast to back away from the still standing tree.

“CATCH THEM!” Lighting up more and more pinecones, as many as he could reach, Gandalf started throwing them down at the dwarves. Putting his sword away, Bilbo started picking the bouquet of pinecones around him to pass them around and help light new ones, making sure they wouldn’t run out. The dwarves kept throwing the flaming pinecones, building a wall of fire before them and Kili was even able to throw some directly at the closest wargs lighting them on fire. The yelp of pain from the beast with their fur now on fire, was a welcome change from the growling. The warg’s started retreating, running away from the pelting of the dwarves fiery rain.

Cries of victory turned into cries of surprise and then horror, when their tree lurched backward and into the void. One strong shake caught them all by surprise as the tree strongest roots keep them from falling. Bilbo had already grabbed for the two young ones next to him and astride the trunk pulled with all his might trying to keep them both up and secured. Thorin was right there in the next moment, helping the hobbit pull the young ones to safety. He heard another small scared voice and saw Ori, his feet dangling in the air, grabbing at Nori to not fall. But Nori wasn’t much better, barely holding on to a branch, the dwarf called up to the wizard closest to them and slipped. Gandalf moved, as fast as he could, offering his staff that the dwarf caught mid fall. Now with the grey wizard barely holding on and two dwarves holding on for dear life to his staff, the air was filled with despair. Some dwarves tried inching forward to help the grey wizard, when Bilbo felt the trunk next to him move. Not the regular shaking or the shaking of warg throwing their body against the bark, but soft even little shakes of someone walking on the trunk of the tree.

Turning back to see over his shoulder, half expecting to see an orc walking toward them, the hobbit’s view was obstructed by their leader. Thorin stood tall, sword in hand, the wind and flames dancing around him. Fire sparks filled the air around the king, casting him in red light, smoke cleared his path, like an invitation to come forward. The dwarf king started his resolute walk down the tree trunk his gaze never looking back, his whole attention on the pale orc. Bilbo watch half fascinated, half horrified, when their great leader started running, his heavy stride making their perch shake lightly, the dwarf figure running away from them and toward their enemy frame in the flames. Thorin had picked up a strong looking branch as a shield wielding it like a great weapon when the warg ridden by the pale orc jumped at him, forcing Thorin to the ground.

“Nooooo!” The dwarves all started yelling, begging the great king to come back to them, pleading and praying as they all watched their great leader fall under the hits of the pale orc and the attack of its beast.

Thorin was in no shape to fight this fight, he was already exhausted and out of breath, this was clearly an attempt to distract the orcs in the hope of saving his brethren. Bilbo’s gaze found the king’s nephews and he froze. Fili’s eyes were filled with silent tears, casting rivers of silent despair upon the young one cheeks, his eyes never looking away from the fighting dwarf. Kili was white, his eyes vacant reflecting the violence from glassy empty eyes, looking shocked and lost. They were so young, too young to have already witness this much violence and blood. He couldn’t let them watch their father figure die like this before their eyes, he simply would not allow it.

He heard the cry of pain that escaped Thorin and turned to see the warg trying to bite down on the dwarf only stopped by the branch the dwarf had taken as a shield. The great beast picked up the dwarf king biting down once more and was rewarded with Thorin’s sword slicing down its nose. In pain the warg threw the dwarf body against a rock.

Bilbo saw the pale orc give an order to the grey orc next to him and started running. He might be small, he might not be as strong as the other dwarf, but he would be damn if he would allow anyone to die today. Picking up the speed, he could see the grey orc lifting his sword and yelled in rage as he jumped on the attacker knocking him to the ground. Now he was really truly angry.

He had just spent this whole day, running away, bargaining for his life, fighting and now he would not accept an unnecessary death. That damn sacrifice prone king would not be killed here and he would not be in charge of two grieving young ones on top of it all. With a grunt of pain, the hobbit rolled away from the orc growling on top of him and this time knowing better, stayed on the ground, stabilized his body and stabbed upward with all his strength aiming for his target neck and chest. He stabbed as many times as he could and kicked upward to not let the body fall on him. A quick look to his left, confirm that the dwarf was still in one piece, but had passed out from the last hit he had received, his body giving up the fight. Pushing the orc body on top of him aside, Bilbo jumped to his feet and went to stand between Thorin and the orcs.

“You better not die you self-scarifying stubborn dwarf.” He got no answer, but didn’t take the time to look behind him, with the grinning pale orc now focus on him. The hobbit stood still sword at the ready daring the pale orc to come.

His daring look only got snickering from his enemies, until they heard the war cries of the dwarves. From the heavy grey smoke emerged his companion, weapons at the ready. They jumped over the flames attacking and slicing spurred on by the hobbit’s attack. The fight raged one around him, but the hobbit stood firmly in his spot, staying close to the fallen king. The pale orc turned to them while his soldiers were barely keeping up with the dwarves’ onslaught of hits and fury. The pale orc made to move closer to Thorin and the small being moved with him glaring at him. Bilbo’s body was shaking, his arms could barely hold his sword up, but he would fight this orc to the death if he needed too. It looked like the warg was ready to jump, when the sky above them opened revealing giant eagles.

The eagles swopped in grabbing at the wargs and orcs, snaring them in their talons only to let them drop to their death over the cliff. Bilbo watched in fascination while the eagles swooped in and out of view, killing their enemies and carrying away the dwarves. Next to him, one of the eagles gently grabbed Thorin carrying the still pass out king away. He turned expecting to face the orc once again, only to be met with sharp talons and his small body was soon airborne. Bilbo could only yell in shock when he was then dropped. Did they think he was an enemy? His body floated, air rushing past his ears whistling, until his body hit soft feathers and he was on the back of another eagle being flown away. The hobbit looked over his shoulder as more eagles appeared, swooping in and saving them all.

They flew into the night sky, over the mountains and away from the blood and flames, until the sun started to poke its head over the horizon. The eagles followed the river he could see running below them and the view was absolutely breath taking, but the hobbit’s attention was mostly on the passed out king still unconscious in the eagle talons. He could hear the young one’s shout for their uncles every so often, still hoping for a response.

“FATHER!?!” Oh he knew that specific shout quite well. Leaning over the other side, the hobbit could see his son on the eagle below him looking around with a bewildered look on his face.  Well it would be quite a shock to anyone to suddenly come too on a giant bird’s back, strapped to a tattooed grumpy dwarf, when he had passed out in front of the entrance of a cave. “FATHER!”

Blue eyes found his and Bilbo smiled at his son with a little wave. Dwalin was busy untying the elf, rolling his eyes at the young one wiggling. Once untied, the elf made himself more comfortable, his gaze traveling to all his companions and finishing on their fallen leader. A quick look at the hobbit was all he could do for now, but even the hobbit didn’t have an answer to the silent question in his son eye.

The eagles dipped down, making their way to a rock platform up ahead. He saw Thorin being carefully dropped to the ground and Gandalf rushed to him placing his hands over the dwarf face. All the dwarves rushed to their king as they were dropped one after the other. Only the elf moved away from the group to help his father down, hugging him for a moment before the hobbit’s feet could reach the ground. Returning the hug, he smiled in relief at seeing Thorin up and standing…until said dwarf hard gaze fell upon him.

“You! What were you doing! You nearly got yourself killed.” Thorin moved forward his voice out of breath still looking on the brink of death.

“ME! YOU! YOUUU!” Now Bilbo was pointing angrily at the dwarf. “You jumped into a fight outnumbered, outweighed and outmatched and just EXPECTED ME TO WHAT? Watch you die?”

Thorin stumbled back a little, but the stubborn being was still holding his ground. “You didn’t need to…”

“Didn’t need to what? HUM? What? Save your life? Make sure I didn’t have to adopt two young dwarf because their uncle couldn’t stay alive long enough to see his damn quest through?”

“Well-ll...” Thorin stuttered and Bilbo could see the anger and fight leave the king.  

“Oh shut up and come here.” Bilbo moved forward quickly and grabbed the dwarf king coat pulling him forward and into his arms. The last remnant of fight finally melted off the taller being and his arms came around the small hobbit crushing him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“...thank you, once again hobbit, thank you.” Thorin whispered into the hobbit’s ear giving him one last squeeze before they separated, but the dwarf kept his hands on the smaller being arm keeping him close.

“I am not a warrior or a soldier, maybe not even a burglar…so please, please Thorin do not force me into this role again.” The dwarf chuckled softly with a nod.

Thorin’s gaze moved over the hobbit’s head and his gaze softened.

“The lonely mountains.” Bilbo turned to see on the horizon the shape of the mountains bathed in the pink hue of the rising sun. “Our home.”

Chapter Text

Thankfully, with the eagles carrying them for a part of the way and saving them from the orcs, the company had made good progress. But still, Bilbo could feel the weight of the passing time weighting heavily on their leader. For each leaf that fell from the trees on their path, a new frown line seemed to appear on the dwarf king face. They did their best, barely taking the time to rest, sleeping in shift at night for protection, they didn’t have time to really talk or take the time to have a real rest. It was a grueling time for all, but no one could really voice their opinion since all of them could feel the call of the lonely mountain they had seen in the horizon.

The hobbit knew the feeling well, seeing the Shire again would have brought him comfort after all their past adventure and he could barely imagine what seeing their fallen home must have stirred in the heart of his dwarves’ companions after all this time and all those struggles.

As if to add to their feeling of urgency, it wasn’t long before one night, as the fire was illuminating the dark forest around them, the first howl was heard. Bilbo who had been on guard duty, had with all the other dwarves still awake, startled and turned to the darkness. His gaze now used to the dark nights had explored the shadows of the trail they had walked just earlier, who had almost looked friendly under the light of the sun, now turned treacherous with possible enemies in its shadow’s. The silence had stretched, not one of them daring to move, holding their breaths, their body tenses, hands hovering over their weapons. The wind rustling the leaves of the trees the only sound in the night, until once again a howl. The sound they had all been dreaded, the sound that they had all subconsciously been hoping never to hear again pierced the night. The ones that had been lucky enough to sleep awakened with the second howl sitting on the forest floor, quiet, their gaze meeting the darkness. That first night no one slept again.

It happened again and again, for the next two nights, the howls startling the guards and awakening the sleeping.  Each night the sound seemed closer, almost at their heels. A waking nightmare slowly creeping toward reality as soon as the sun touched down on the horizon.

“They’ll be here soon.” Thorin was standing in front of the forest path they had decided to camp on for the night, his forehead scrunched up in worry. Bilbo was by his side, his gaze moving around the shadows casted by the moon. He couldn’t focus on one particular shadow for too long or his mind would start seeing orcs and wargs in their movement and his heart would beat in a scared frenzy at every rustles of leaves.

“I can hear them better now.” Legolas murmured behind them. The hobbit chanced a glance behind him to see his son standing close hand on his sword. “They are closer, but not close enough to attack us tonight.”

“…tomorrow?” The dwarf asked in a hushed tone like he didn’t really want the answer but needed to know nonetheless. Just to hear out loud what they all knew was coming for them.

“Yes, tomorrow.”

The three of them stayed quiet for a moment. The grey wizard had mentioned a safe place, somewhere they needed to reach before they could make it to Mirkwood that might offer them some peace, if only for a brief moment. But they had not seen any signs of the possible peace in the last days and, for no reasons the hobbit could understand, the grey man seemed…nervous.

They had face goblins, orcs, wargs and they were walking toward a possible dragon, but now for this, supposedly peaceful place they were heading too, Gandalf was showing nerves he hadn’t shown so far in their travels. The hobbit had tried to get more details, but only mumbles had been his answers. Wherever they were heading was truly making the wizard a mess of nerves and even the dwarves were starting to doubt if the asylum they had been promised was even real.

When the first rays of the sun started to poke their nose through the thick canopy of greenery above their head, chasing the orc shaped shadows away, they started their silent tense walk once again. The dense forest and her narrow path started to get lighter, the path growing a little larger with each steps, making them all hope they would soon reach their destination or at least get out of the forest soon. Bilbo looked over his shoulder to see that his son was still following and had not wandered into the woods out of boredom. His blond elf had been quiet for a long part of their travels after the eagle’s encounter, he still seemed a little loopy from what seemed to have transpired in the caves when he had been separated from the hobbit. They hadn’t had time to really sit down and talk without any prying eyes around them and Legolas didn’t seem to want to talk with an audience. For now, though, Bilbo stopped on his track suddenly alert. The elf had stopped moving, his gaze fixed, not behind them as he would have expected, but to their right. Reaching over to the grey wizard at his side, the hobbit pulled once sharply on the grey robe knowing that his son focus gaze wasn’t necessarily a good sign.

“Gandalf!”

“What? What is it Bilbo?” The hobbit pointed to the elf in silence. Gandalf looked over and his gaze also moved in the direction the elf was staring. Feeling the air change the whole company stopped, letting silence fall over them.

“There’s…a black bear?” Legolas voice sounded unsure. But it seemed to snapped some urgency into the old man as he turned on his heels and started running.

“RUN! RUN RUN!” Gandalf screams shocked them all out of their stupor. Passing the whole group quickly, they didn’t quite know what to do until an impressive growl, much louder and closer than expected shook the whole forest.

Bilbo barely had time to think or move that he was picked up and swung around on his son back. All the dwarves following the taller being leads and starting to run as well. The forest was passing quickly around Bilbo, he was holding for dear life, trying to be mindful not to strangle the young elf, but also trying to keep a firm grip on his son shoulder. Looking down, he could see the head of the dwarves bouncing up and down as they ran through the woods, jumping over rocks and roots. Since he was the only one able to do so without any danger of tripping, Bilbo took the chance to look over this shoulder to see if he could spot the black bear his son had mentioned. Focusing on their surroundings, the hobbit looked in all directions, but couldn’t find any trace of the bear…why were they running. He was about to inquire, when the forest suddenly disappear and their group find themselves running in an open field. In the distance, the hobbit could see what looked like a charming little house, surrounded by a tall rock wall on which vines grew. Bilbo only had a moment to admired the house, before he spotted Bombur on their left running at full speed passing by all of them his little legs pushing him forward until he was keeping up with Gandalf at the front. Then came the sound of wood breaking. Almost slipping from his perch, his son strong hands keep him firmly in place, the hobbit looked behind them, what he saw had his face drained of blood in shock.

That was not a bear, that was a patchy furred raging beast, four times the size of a horse that was destroying a path through the forest to come at them. He watched half mesmerized, half horrified as the gigantic beast jumped out of the forest and into the field, landing surely on its paws, never once breaking its stride, charging toward them, its white teeth gleaming in the sun. Watching the four legged beast gain on them, Bilbo turned back around to see that some dwarves had reached the house and were, with Gandalf fighting to get the door open. Thorin, probably the calmest of them all at this point, lifted the heavy piece of wood that had been obstructing the door. Finally, the door swung open and Legolas not once breaking his speed, jumped over the amassed dwarves and into the house not wanting to pause for even a second with his precious charge on his back. Bilbo barely had time to slide down his son back that the elf was already running back to the door and slamming his whole weight upon it when the bear reached the door trying to push it open. With the weight of the elf and all the dwarves pushing against the door, the door was blissfully pushed close and in a hurry, Thorin and Dwalin slammed the heavy piece of wood back into place locking them inside.

“What was that thing?!?!” Bellowed the king of the dwarf to the wizard who was holding his side and puffing, trying to catch his breath, on the other side of the house.

“That was Beorn, he’s a skin-changer, sometimes he’s a huge black bear, sometimes he’s a great strong man, not a thing, and he’ll be our host for the night.”

“Does the bear know that?” Asked Bofur in a sarcastic tone.

“Well the bear is unpredictable, we cannot ask or reason with it…. but the man can be reasoned with, however…he is not overfond of dwarves…or elf.” Finding his breath again, the old wizard looked around. Growling could be heard from the outside but it was hushed and moving away from them. “You should find a place to sleep and rest, we will be safe here tonight…I hope.”

With his usual eeriness, the wizard didn’t feel the need to had more and moved to a quiet corner of the house pulling his pipe and tobacco herbs. Leaving the door now that it was not longer shaking under the weight of the bear, the dwarves also dispersed moving in groups to find fresh hay to make their beds. It wasn’t even that late in the day yet, but with all the time they had spent barely sleeping, Bilbo knew it wouldn’t be long before they all would be asleep. He did make sure the little ones were comfortable before he went to find his son.

The elf had found a corner on the very far side of the house and had built a makeshift bed where he had gathered their bags and necessities. The choice of a private corner, away from everyone, even from the young dwarves the elf usually slept close too, was all the hobbit needed to understand they would have a talk once everyone was asleep. They stayed quiet for most of the night, making polite conversation, eating and drinking with the others and waited lying next to each other until the house was filled with quiet snores. Making sure even the grey wizard was firmly sleeping in the big plushie chair he had found, the two of them slipped outside and into the garden at the back of the house. Bilbo did pause at the door threshold.

“I can hear the bear, he’s in the forest, far away enough not to disturbed us and if he does come back I’ll hear it.” Legolas said in a soothing voice, knowing his father’s worried without the need for the hobbit to voice them. “He’s keeping the orcs away.”

“That’s one good news at least.” They walked through the garden, until they found a large wooden carved bench and sat upon it. The night washed over them, crickets and frogs signing close by, the moon illuminating the garden and its colorful flowers. If he closed his eyes, Bilbo could have almost believed he was back in the Shire.

“In the caves…” The elf voice broke the silence and Bilbo turned his full attention on his son. “Fili told me my eyes turned pitch black.”

The hobbit’s eyes widened and he reached out to the bond he had with his son out of instinct. It was still there in the back of his mind, tethering him to the most precious being in his life, intact and strong. Legolas sent a rush of calm through the bond sensing his father panic.

“…they turned black once, the night I found you, a very very long time ago.” The hobbit had all but forgotten about it, but the mention brought back the memory of a small elf babe with pitch black eyes and pain stricken features. “When we had only just bonded, Lobelia…Lobelia tried to hold you and when she touched your skin your eyes changed and you yelled in pain.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You were so young and just a babe, freshly born to the world and it never happened again. Why would….” A pulse, a dark whisper from the recess of the hobbit’s mind had his hand cover the pocket of his vest. It wasn’t even an intentional gesture.

Mine…protect…mine….my precioussssss

His son eyes snapped to the hand on his chest with a look of pure disgust. Feeling nauseous, the hobbit pulled his hand away quickly rising it away from his body. No…NO!...NO! He had flashes before his eyes of the vile little creature in the caves saying similar words and felt himself reject the connection the ring was pushing in his mind. It was a tangible thing that he could feel trying to crawl its way into a space that was reverse for his son only.

“THAT! That feeling, that presence, that’s what I felt take over my mind, it crawled and weaved itself through our bond and took over me.” Legolas exclaimed pointing at the vest pocket.

Slowly, his hand clammy with cold sweats, the hobbit took out the ring and placed it at the far end of the bench, it really felt like a third presence there with them. They both stared at it and with a heavy sigh, the hobbit told his one and only precious son, what had happened in the cave without skipping any details. They could both feel the ring presence, the…heaviness of it, pulsing next to them. Like it was angry at the hobbit for sharing the secret of its existence with another being.

“It felt almost like tentacles, a dark tendril coiling around my mind and I didn’t stop it from taking over, I just wanted to know where you were and it whispered promises of reunion and…power. It only released my mind when you removed it.” Legolas was leaning on his small father seeking comfort as he tried to explain what he had felt the very first time the hobbit had put on the ring. To Bilbo it was horrifying thinking he had opened the door for such a thing to enter his son’s mind. Guilt fell heavy on his heart, he was supposed to protect his son, keep him from arm, not invite it in.

“I’ll burry it somewhere tomorrow, we can’t keep it.” His voice sounded unsure, but he wasn’t even certain how much of his will the ring was trying to take away so it could stay with him. If it hadn’t been for his bond and the magic that was shared from the blond elf, Bilbo wasn’t sure he would have even noticed the influence the ring was trying to gain on his mind. It was making the smaller being sick, just thinking that the magical item might have been trying to take control of his mind all this time. He could feel it now, block it in some ways.

“…no, not here, not now.” His son voice was soft but resolute.

“Legolas, what if I put it on again? I cannot accept this, cannot let it get to you because of me.”

“I can keep it away.” The elf blue eyes were glaring at the ring in challenge. “Put it on.”

“Legolas!” The hobbit was on his feet in a flash, keeping himself away from the ring to avoid the temptation the words had pushed into him to do just that. 

“Just for a moment, I need to know what to look for, what to fight against. It’s a weapon and you’ll face a dragon soon, being invisible might be only thing that will keep you alive. Please father, we’ll be careful and if the power becomes too much…I swear on the honor of our house to tell you the moment I can no longer keep it at bay”

“…I….sigh…I would much prefer not.” But he had thought of the same if he was honest, being invisible had allowed him to save himself and escape from the caves in one piece. That ring might also be the answer to surviving the dragon, but maybe also another attack. “We need….I’ll be careful not to use it to often, there’s a feeling, an euphoria that comes when it’s on, that takes over me and…it’s like a drug, I can feel a need to wear it washing over me like an addiction.”

Legolas nodded like he understood and if what he said was true he actually might. It was still horrifying to the hobbit to think this small ring could take over his mind but also his son’s. Taking a deep breath, the smaller being took the ring, feeling its greddy pulse against it’s skin, it was like it was trying to..seduce him. Now knowing what it was doing only made the hobbit want to throw it away as far as he could never to be seen again. His stomach was flipping over making him feel nauseous, swallowing back the bile at the back of his throat, Bilbo took one last deep breath and slipped the ring on his finger.

Ignoring the grey shades the garden took around him, the hobbit focused all his attention on his son. Bilbo saw the dark start to invade the corner of the elf blue eyes, but just as he was about to remove the ring, Legolas held out his hand asking him to wait and give him a moment. The blond being took a deep breath, letting the air escape his lips slowly, grounding his feet into the ground. Bilbo could feel it now that he was paying attention to what the ring was doing to him. It was reaching for the power cursing through their bond, trying to coil around it, to take its connection to the magic pulsing around them and take it for itself. It felt like a greedy being reaching for it, wanting it for itself and invading every corner of the hobbit mind trying to make a space for itself, trying to create what felt like…obsession.

Once again, the hobbit had to place a hand over his mouth, taking deep breath through his nose not to be sick. Slowly the darkness invasion slowed, it was pulled back, each tendrils pried free, his mind feeling lighter as the obsession was pushed back into a corner. If he closed his eyes, Bilbo could almost see a white glowing golden cage with bars made of sharp silver leaves into which the dark tentacles were locked away, trapped at the back of his mind.

“Removed it…please father.” Quickly the ring was pulled off and he let it drop into the grass at this feet rushing forward to embrace his son.

“Are you alright? Are you….is your mind alright? What of our bond?” Legolas eyes were closed, like he was still lost in thought while panic was rising in the hobbit.” Sweetheart talk to me please.”

The young elf broke his stillness and moved forward kneeling into the grass and taking his father’s small body into a tight embrace. “I’m here, I can push it away, lock it away. Not for long…but I can keep it away from my mind and yours for a moment.”

“I still think I should bury it in a hole somewhere.” Bilbo said glaring at the ring resting in the grass next to them.

“And if we weren’t travelling with dwarves asking you to face a dragon for them, I would go find a shovel at this very moment. But I much prefer having to fight off…. that thing, then having you completely defenseless.”

“...fine.” Bilbo sighed conceding. “But I still think I should avoid wearing it as much as possible, it felt…angry when you trapped it.”

Legolas nodded looking at the ring and keeping a firm grasp on the hobbit. “It’s weak at the moment, I could feel it’s hunger for power, it want’s power and the more you wear it the more it’ll gain what it wants. If a stronger being was to wear this ring, it would probably gain strength much faster.”

“Hummm…. better to keep it away from Gandalf than.” It was half a joke, but at the same time, the hobbit didn’t fully trust the grey wizard with an unknown object of power. Legolas seemed to agree, since he didn’t argue. “We’ll figure out what to do with it later, when our lives are not at risk at every moment of the day.”

“Agreed.” Legolas whispered into his neck, sounding much more tired now. Pulling a handkerchief from one of his pocket, the hobbit picked up the ring, no longer wanting to touch it and shoved it down his vest pocket. The elf blue eyes suddenly focused on the wall behind them. “The bear is coming back.”

“Let’s leave its garden for now and get some sleep.” Bilbo took his son hand’s in his and they made their way back into the house.

The house was still quiet, the snores echoing into the high ceiling. Bilbo removed his vest, rolled it and placed it away from their bed. Snuggling against each other, the father and son fell quickly asleep both exhausted.

+++

Bilbo woke up the next morning, after finally being able to sleep for the whole night without any interruption or guard shift, completely smothered under his son. The elf face was buried in his morning curls, his limbs all wrapped around the smaller being body, pulling the hobbit as closed as possible to his chest. Feeling for the bond, wanting to make sure that it was still safe and sound, Bilbo could only feel calm love singing through their connection.  He allowed himself a brief moment to bask in the love and happiness he could fell from his precious son and couldn’t help a little glare at his wrapped up vest. That damn ring, he was making sure to project all his hatred for it toward the ring trapped in his vest, as it seemed to help keep it away from his mind.

Legolas awoke when ruckus came from the front door and the dwarves hushed excited voice reached them. Stretching and yawning, father and son, moved slowly to see what was captivating their companions on this fine morning.

“Well, I say we should leg it. Slip out the back.” Nori’ s voice said over the hushed whispers of the group gathered in front of the window. Bilbo could hear loud thumping noises coming from outside.

“I’m not running from anyone, best or not.” Grumbled Dwalin, pushing Nori away from the door.

“There’s no point in arguing!” Gandalf voice rose above the dwarves whispered voice. “We cannot pass through the Wilderland without Beorn’s help! We’ll be hunted down before we ever get to the forest.”

The hobbit peeked his head forward, now curious to see what the black bear looked like in his human form. “AH! Bilbo. There you are. This will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully. The last person who startled him was torn to shreds.”

Silence fell on the group, all eyes on the grey wizard who had made his way to the door, ready to go meet their host.

“I will go first and uh..Bilbo? You come with me.” The hobbit didn’t move at all and actually scoffed leaning back on his son.

“How is this a good idea?”

“He’s never seen a hobbit; he might just be distracted enough by the novelty to forgive the rest of us for this house invasion.” Bilbo rolled his eyes, but notice once again that the grey wizard was…fidgeting. With a sight and a gentle path to the elf leg, he moved forward.

“Alright! Let’s go meet the host.”

“Now the rest of you, you just wait here and don’t come out until I give you the signal.” The grey wizard pointed at all of them, especially the elf. “And no sudden moves or loud noises, and don’t overcrowd him. And only come out in pairs…no…no…actually Bombur…um…you count as two so you should come out alone.”

The round dwarf nodded in agreement chomping down on a carrot loudly. The hobbit couldn’t figure out where the dwarf had even found a carrot.

“Remember! Wait for the signal.” Gandalf reiterated with a warning finger.

The hobbit stepped out of the house behind the tall wizard and peeked around the grey robe to see their host. He could see a very tall figure, taller than any being he had ever seen, shirtless with long straight dark hair cutting wood with an axe twice the size of the hobbit. The tall being wasn’t even looking in their direction, completely focus on his task. Next to him, he could hear the grey wizard clear his throat, fidgeting with his staff and combing his hair back with nervous shaky hands.

“You’re nervous, I’ve never seen you nervous before.” Bilbo chimed enjoying this new side of the old man.

“Nervous? What nonsense.” Huffed Gandalf, but the hobbit only smiled mischievously back at him. Ignoring the hobbit, the grey man turned away from him, plastering a friendly smile on his face. “Good morning!”

The tall skin-changer didn’t acknowledge them, even swinging his axe back and almost hitting the wizard. Bilbo stepped back and hid behind the wizard robes as Gandalf tried greeting their host once again, louder. This time the axe was dropped down and the man looked over his shoulder at them.

“Who are you?” The man voice was deep and rumbly, pleasantly so.

“I’m Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey.” The wizard introduced himself with a bow. The skin-changer turned on them, placing his axe before him at the ready and looked the wizard up and down with disdain.

“Never heard of him.” Gandalf was taken aback and babbled some pleasantries, but it didn’t seem to impress the tall being much, until the grey man moved to the side exposing Bilbo. Beorn’s amber eyes zoned in on the hobbit, his face calmer, more curious. “Who is this little fellow?”

Not feeling any hostility coming from the much taller being, Bilbo moved forward with a little wave. “Bilbo Baggins, please to meet you! And thank you again for your hospitality, it was greatly appreciated.”

The skin-changer loomed over the hobbit, but once again, strangely, Bilbo didn’t feel threaten. His large amber eyes, framed with thick salt and pepper eyebrows that pointed to the sky, scanned the little hobbit from curls to toes. There was no sense of danger coming from the close examination and no threat to him that he could feel. The sharp gaze Beorn turned to the wizard, was much more threatening. “He’s not a dwarf is he?”

Huffing a little laugh that had the skin-changer attention back on him in a moment, the smaller being shocked his head. “No, not a dwarf I’m a hobbit from the Shire.”

Beorn nodded leaning back. “A halfling and a wizard. How come you here?”

“Oh well the fact is that we’ve had a bad time of it, from goblins in the mountains…”

“What did you go near goblins for? “Beorn asked his voice reprimanding.

“Yes, Gandalf why did we go near goblins?” The hobbit added. He so enjoyed the way Gandalf was dancing from one foot to the other with nerves and was stuttering his words. Beorn pointed to the hobbit with a nod and Bilbo was almost, almost, tempted to move to the skin-changer side and gang up on the wizard.

“Stupid thing to do.” The tall being added and Bilbo nodded once again in agreement.

“You are not helping.” Gandalf said in a hushed voice to the hobbit, but he only shrugged.

“I came to be polite and greet our host, never said I’d help.” That did bring forth a little smile to the skin-changer lips, but his face went back to its natural scold when the wizard turned back to him.

“You are absolutely right, that was a terrible idea from us.” The wizard was interrupted by the sounds of steps behind them. Bilbo turned to see Dwalin and Balin coming out of house waving and introducing themselves. Beorn axe went back up his stance changing to a fighting one. “I must confess several of our group are, in fact, dwarves.”

“Do you call two, severalllll?” The last word came out more as a growl.

“well, uh, now you put it that way….” A flourish of stuttering escaped the wizard as he search for his words. “Yes…there could be more…than two.”

More dwarves came out behind the wizard and Bilbo saw the quiet despair on the old man face at the sound. “And here are some more of our, uh, happy troop.”

“And do you call six a ‘troop’?” Beorn voice was getting more and more agitated. Two more dwarves came strolling out of the house.

“Dori and Nori at your service.” The two dwarves bowed respectfully.

“I don’t want your service!” The skin-changer voice was getting tense. When he saw Fili and Kili step forward and the axe go up, Bilbo stepped forward closer to the tall being. As expected, the skin-changer immediately lowered his axe placing it away from the hobbit and took a step back.

“All the rest please come out slowly and introduce yourself to our generous host!” Bilbo called with a firm but gentle voice. In a row the other dwarves came out one by one, bowed and introduced themselves. Legolas came out and forward.

“Legolas Baggins, a pleasure to meet you and thank you again for the hospitality you’ve showed to my father and I.”

“Father? There’s another elf?” Beorn seemed to be getting nervous again, but Bilbo caught his attention by raising his hand.

“No, that would be me, he’s my son.” The hobbit smiled up at the frowning face.

“The elf is the halfling son?” Bilbo nodded. “Why?”

“Well, I found him and raised him as my own, so he is my son.” Somehow that seemed to be the correct answer, since Beorn smiled.

“Good.” The skin-changer looked at the dwarves and sneered at Gandalf. “Is that it? Are there any more?”

Thorin finally stepped out of the house and gave a small bow. Bilbo smiled and nodded. “Yes that’s it, no more surprises.”

There as beat of silence, the skin-changer studying them all and once satisfied he place down the axe to the side. “Very well, come little bunny tell me of the Shire you come from.”

The comment was directed toward Bilbo who looked around surprised at the nickname. But he didn’t really mind and follow the skin-changer back into the house happy to talk of his home. Legolas stepped in behind them calmly as to not startle the big man, chiming in when needed also happy to talk about the Shire and answer the questions. Beorn listened, asking questions with a soft voice, he wasn’t much of a talker, but seemed quite happy to let the hobbit rattle on.

They all gathered around the table for breakfast, the tall being only stopping the hobbit stream of one sided conversation once to shoo away two dwarves who had taken the seats next to Beorn’s chair. “Sit here little bunny, your kit can sit here too.”

“Thank you!”

Gandalf was looking at the exchange completely flabbergasted, but they all ignored him as the skin-changer served his guests, letting the dwarves serve themselves. Always polite, the hobbit and elf wanted until their host had sat back down and was ready to eat before digging into their own plate. The smaller being didn’t miss the please smile on the tall man face at the small consideration. When the questions seemed to run out and while Bilbo was busy eating, the skin-changer attention moved to the dwarf king.

“So you are the one they call Oakenshield.” Thorin leaned forward giving their host his attention. “Tell me, why is Azog the defiler hunting you?”

“You know of Azog? How?”

“My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the orcs came down from the North. The defiler killed most of my family. But some he enslaved.” Bilbo’s eyes landed on the iron cuff on the skin-changer wrist, one he now recognized as part of some kind of restrain. He moved without thinking, placing a hand over Beorn’s much larger one in silent comfort. The tall being looked at the small hobbit hand and smiled sadly with a nod. “Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him.”

“Are there others like you? Any family left?” Bilbo asked concerned.

“Once there were many. Now little bunny there’s only one.” Beorn’s other hand came to pat the hobbit’s comforting hand in silent thanks as they exchanged a look full of sorrow. It truly broke the hobbit’s heart to think of this man alone, the last of his kind, probably only surviving to spite the orcs that had killed his family and take as many of them down as he could before skin-changers became nothing but a myth.

The tall man stood up moving toward Thorin, his face serious. “You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn.”

Thorin nodded. “Before Durin’s day falls, yes.”

“You are running out of time. You will need to go through Mirkwood, but a darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. I would not venture there except in great need.”

“We will take the elven road. The path is still safe.” Gandalf said his assured voice having come back to him.

“Safe?” Beorn voice sounded surprise. “The wood elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They’re less wise and more dangerous.”

Beorn gaze flickered to the blond elf for a moment, but Legolas didn’t seem bothered. “Shire elf are much wiser.”

“But it matters not.” The skin-changer continued turning back to Thorin.

“What do you mean?” The dwarf king asked.

“These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive.” A long look was exchange between the skin-changer and the dwarf king. “I don’t like dwarves. They’re greedy and blind. Blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own. But orcs I hate MOOOORE... What do you need?”

“Horse and food if you can spare some.”

“Hummmm very well. Little bunny, kit, come help me and keep me company while a prepare the ponies for your travels.” Without waiting for them, Beorn walked way. Exchanging a quick glance with Thorin, the hobbit shrugged and follow, the blond elf not far behind.

They follow the tall being to the back of the house and to an enclosed field near the forest where the ponies were gathered galloping in circle and enjoying the sun. The skin-changer leaned down picking up the hobbit and sat him on the fence, high enough to not be trampled over by the running ponies.

“Stay here little bunny it's safer. You! Kit, come and help me prepare the ponies. They don’t seem scared of you.”

“Yes, sir!” Legolas happily jumped over the fence and ran into the field. Just as Bilbo had expected, the ponies all started to gather around the elf, nuzzling at the blond being with curiosity.

“You raised him well if my ponies are not scared of him.” The hobbit nodded with a proud smile. “He isn’t full of malice or contempt for lesser than him, a good elf.”

“Yes, he is, he truly is.” Beorn gave a grunt of approval.

“I might like Shire halfling and elf, are they all like you little bunny?”

“What am I like?” Bilbo ask frankly curious as to why he was the only one with a nickname and the only one to have gain some sort of respect from the skin-changer so quickly.

“Peaceful, calm…small, fragile.” There was a sadness to the statement.

“Maybe or maybe you should come and see for yourself.”

The skin-changer hummed softly under his breath and moved away from the hobbit to help with the ponies, leaving him all alone on his high perch. Bilbo looked on, letting the sun caress his skin, soaking in the calm. He could hear in the distance his son voice just talking about the Shire and his hobbit relative. He heard Beorn laugh softly as Legolas told him about his scary aunt Lobelia and her son. Maybe once they would be on their way back to the Shire, they could bring the tall man back with them and make him a part of the Baggins family, he might even just fit right in with the rest of his mismatch family.

Once the ponies were all ready to go, the skin-changer helped the hobbit down from the fence and placed him on top of one of the brown patch ponies and in front of the elf already perch on its back. Beorn made sure they were secured on top of his animal and gave a gentle pat on the hobbit leg as a soft goodbye. “This one is my favorite, much more calm than the others, he’ll be good to you little bunny.”

“Take care of yourself Beorn, I hope to meet you again, under better condition.” The tall man smiled in agreement and gave a nod to the elf. They watch as the skin-changer moved to the wizard side, his face adorned with a frown like talking to the grey man was the most dreadful of experience.

“I think aunt Lobelia would like him, he’s strong and quiet, just like her father.”

“She would hate to have bear fur on her furniture.” Bilbo pointed out.

“But she would love to have something new to complain about.” Legolas said with a mischievous smile on his face.

Once the conversation with the wizard was finished, Gandalf joined them all. Now, with all the dwarves on ponies and ready to go, they left their peaceful haven. The hobbit gave one last wave to the skin-changer silently hoping he would see him again one day.

The travelled through the fields at great speed, letting the fresh air clear their mind and only stopping once they had reached the entrance to the forest. The great forest looming before them felt dark compare to the open green fields surrounded by the mountains. Legolas was quiet looking into the forest, but staying away from its entrance.

“Free the ponies, let them go back to their master!” Gandalf shouted entering the forest first. No one followed but Nori and Dori activated themselves to untie the ponies and let them run free.

Bilbo stood still next to his son, his gaze moving from tree to tree, in his pocket he could feel the ring pulsing. It almost felt happy to be here and it made the hobbit want to turn around and not set one foot into this cursed ground.

“This forest feels sick. As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?”

“Not unless we go 200 miles north or twice that distance..south.” Gandalf answered going deeper into the entrance to the forest.

The hobbit stayed still, getting closer to his son and whispered. “The ring, its reacting, it wants to go inside this forest.”

“Yes and you were right there’s a curse, a dark force inside those woods. I can feel my skin itching to leave this place.” They exchanged a worried look. The grey wizard came running out of the woods, stopping Dori from freeing his horse.

“Not my horse! I need it!”

“You’re not leaving us?” Bilbo’s voice was dripping with disdain; he couldn’t believe the wizard was really thinking of leaving them now of all time.  

“I would not do this unless I had to.” The grey man tried to defend himself, but was met with a glare.

“Yes…you would.” Legolas hissed under his breath, crossing his arms. Bilbo was also of the same mind and gave the tall wizard his own disapproving glare.

“I’m truly sorry Bilbo.” Moving to his horse, avoiding everyone’s gaze, the wizard moved on. “I’ll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me. There’s a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water! Cross only by the stone bridge! The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It’ll seek to enter your mind and lead you astray.”

“Lead us astray? What does that even mean?” Bilbo questioned out loud, they were not prepared for this and their only wizard was leaving them to face it without his knowledge to help them advance safely.

“You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do, you’ll never find it again.” Turning his horse around and away from them Gandalf started to depart still shouting warnings. “No matter what may come, stay on the path!”

The hobbit watched as the grey wizard horse rode away from them getting smaller and smaller. With this dark omen upon them, they all entered the forest. Its branches capturing them in their shadows as soon as their feet touched the rocks of the path.

Chapter Text

The air around them felt thick, almost like it was a syrup, he could feel with every breath the heavy syrupy air enter into his throat and felt it slide down to rest heavily into his lungs. It was a heavy weight that had him dragging his feet, just moving forward started to be a struggle, his limbs growing heavier and heavier with sleep every time his foot left the ground pushing him forward. When Bilbo had said the forest felt sick, he had not thought that the sickness would be shared to him and his companions quite so fast. It felt like being inside a corpse at death’s door.

Their progress was slow, just shuffling forward as much as they could, the path underneath their feet coming in and out of their field of vision from below grey brittle fallen leaves. Dwalin and Thorin at the front had their weapons out, tapping the ground at each intersection to be absolutely sure that there was still rocks from the path bellow their feet. The leaves obscuring the way and the intersections and turns multiplied, playing tricks on their sluggish minds and Bilbo felt like the forest was trying to trick them into getting of the path and lost into its dark branches. He could swear the branches were beckoning him, trying to call him into their shadows, like an open mouth full of teeth ready to swallow him whole. The hobbit had to keep on slapping his face each time he felt his feet change direction without his knowledge. Even his son hand, who had a tight grip on the hobbit, holding the back of his coat with white knuckles hands, was shaking with the force the elf was using to keep his fist closed on the fabric. Legolas absolutely refused to let go, trapped in the same fog and paranoia that was taking over all of their minds slowly. 

The path started to twist and turn, making them go up and down, under the trees and over the fallen branches. It was almost impossible to know if they were still on the right path. But Dwalin in front of the line was still resolute, his eyes on the ground, tapping loudly with his axe, the soldier dwarf voice was the only sound that seem to still pierced through the fog encouraging them all forward. “This way!”

“Air! I need AIR!” Bofur said loudly echoing all of their thoughts.

“My head, it’s swimming!” Oin added and it was truly like drowning in their own minds, the air feeling thicker if that was even possible.

They could see spores flying over their head, never touching them or landing down on the path, it truly looked like the path was the only part of the forest partly untouched by whatever curse they were walking into. Fili’s hopeful voice reached them from the front of the line. “We found the bridge!”

They all moved forward, the fog lifting from their mind for a blissful moment, hopeful that maybe they would soon find peace if they had finally found the bridge Gandalf had mentioned. But the hope crumbled to dust quite quickly once they saw that the broken rock bridge, green from unused and with both ends barely still holding on. Bilbo moved forward, only stopped at the edge of the destroyed bridge by his son strong grip that pulled him a couple of steps back. A sickening white smoke was covering the top of the still deadly looking black water before them.

“We could try and swim it.” Bofur said his voice unsure.

“Didn’t you hear what Gandalf said?” Thorin, the voice of reason rose from behind the hobbit. “A dark magic lies upon this forest. The water of this stream are enchanted.”

“Doesn’t look very enchanting to me.” Bofur muttered next to Bilbo. Legolas hummed under his breath in agreement, still pulling the swaying hobbit back. Bilbo was having trouble focusing, his head spinning and his eyes heavy.

“We must find another way across.” Thorin’s voice echoed into the forest.

“These vines look strong enough!” Kili called pointing to the side where floating vines seemed to reached from one side of the water to the other, there shapes varying from thick to small, all intertwined almost like a spider web. The young one moved forward but was stopped by his uncle calling him back.

“Kili!” The brown hair dwarf stopped like a child chastised and came down. “We send the lightest first.”

At these words, Bilbo’s attention snapped away from the enchanting water and turned to find all eyes on him. He opened his mouth to protest but could see the reasoning. With an eye roll and a sigh, he approached the vines, only stopping once he reached them, because of the elf shape extra weight he was pulling along.

“You have to let go sweetheart.” Bilbo tried to nudge the white fist away, but the elf glared.

“No.”

“Legolas, we can both…” But no sooner had he tried to once again liberate his coat from his son grip, that the hand released him, only to grab him by the waist. Once again, for the second time since the beginning of their quest, Bilbo found himself swung around and on his son back. With a yelp of surprise, he reached forward to grab the elf shoulder and was about to push himself back to the ground, when the blond elf jumped forward and into the mess of vines. “LEGOLAS!”

“I’m the lightest anyway.” The elf muttered angrily.

And really, the hobbit couldn’t argue with the elf logic. When it came to balance and agility no one could beat an elf. Which was proven once again, as the young elf moved forward not even holding anything but the hobbit’s leg. The vines swung softly under Legolas feet, but they barely dipped or creaked as the duo moved forward. Jumping effortlessly from one vine to the other, the elf moved quickly, his blue eyes always looking forward and away from the reflective inviting water below.  Bilbo did chance a look down once, when Legolas had to crouch down to pass under the nest of vines in their way. He saw his own reflection, his pulse jumping in his throat as he felt a force calling him down, begging to be touched, inviting him in. His hand almost letting go of the shoulders he was holding on, only just catching himself when Legolas jostled him slightly and jumped forward. Once they had reached the other side, the smaller being was put down and his son hand found his coat once again taking a fistful of the fabric back into a death grip.

“Something is not right.” Bilbo had to close his eyes still feeling the pull of the water before them and shook his head violently. “This is not right at all. Stay where you are!...oh.”

All the dwarves were already entangled in the vines, halfway there, grunting and huffing their way forward.  Bilbo shook himself and slapped his face trying to stay focus on the moment. Behind him, Legolas was looking into the forest his gaze lost. Thorin was the first one to reach the other side and he jumped next to the hobbit placing a hand on his shoulder to stabilize himself. The sound of the broken branch snapped their attention in the same direction the elf had been staring to see a majestic white stag emerge from the shadows and into a ray of light. The creature, stared at them calmly and with clear eyes. Enchanted by the sight, the hobbit noticed to late that the dwarven king had pulled out his bow and arrow aiming at the stag.

“What are you doing?” The hobbit asked his voice hushed and before he could move to stop the dwarf the arrow was shoot. Even Legolas flinched at the sound of the arrow leaving the bow, his angry blue eyes snapping to Thorin.

Thankfully, the arrow missed and the stag huffed running back into the forest and, Bilbo felt, leaving them to their cursed fate. They hadn’t seen any sign of life the whole way to Mirkwood and now his one sign of hope had just run away from them, leaving the hobbit with a deep sense of dread.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It’s bad luck.”

“I don’t believe in luck.” Thorin muttered, but his voice sounded rough and out of breath. “We make our own luck.”

As if to defy Thorin’s words, they both turned at the sound of a body hitting the water. Bombur had fallen asleep and into the enchanted water below him.

“Where’s your luck now?” Legolas chimed from behind them with a sneer.

They had to watch from the side, while the other dwarves still struggling in the vines pulled and tugged the fallen dwarf to the shore. The strongest of them built a make shift bed with blankets and sticks to transport the bigger dwarf who simply couldn’t be awaken. Even a strong slap to the face from Dwalin did nothing to awaken their sleeping companion, even though his face was now half red and angry from the hit. Loading their charge on their shoulder, they kept on moving forward, Thorin taking the lead this time. The forest now seemed angrier, heavier and the air ensnared them tightly.

“We need to take a rest.” Nori huffed, hitting the ground around him trying to keep to the path, while his six companions carrying Bombur behind him huffed and groaned tired from the extra load that they had to carry into this twisted path. 

Bilbo slowly started to fall behind, his son being the only reason he could still walk straight and stay on the path. He could feel the ring in his vest pocket starting to hum softly. He stopped when it pulsed against his chest and he could hear…whispers, voices coming from far away.

“What is that? Those voices. Can you hear them?” The hobbit asked softly looking over his shoulder at his son. But Legolas shook his head with a worried look.

“I hear nothing…no wind, no birds, no life at all.” The elf answered.

“What hour is it?” Thorin asked from the front of the line.

“I do not know…I don’t even know what day it is.” Dwalin answered from the side.

“This is taking too long…is there no end to this accursed forest?!?” The dwarven king bellowed into the silence and darkness surrounding them.

“None that I can see...only trees and more trees!” Gloin added, his voice filled with despair.

Bilbo was in a daze, his gaze falling on a white substance covering mushrooms next to him. He rubbed his cold hands together his face getting closer to the substance, curious, but he also had trouble focusing his eyes to get a better look. Slowly his hand moved and touched it, it felt like…spider web? But could spider web really be that big and as he looked over his head, he saw more of it all around them. The hobbit wanted to ask for the dwarves’ opinion and also to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But he heard Thorin shouting behind him and turned to see their leader walk away from the path.

“There! This way!”

Bilbo watched with a frown while Thorin charged into the forest and away from the path, pushing his way pass the other dwarves to reach something only he seemed to see.

“Gandalf said….” Bilbo tried, but was cut-off right away by Thorin’s commanding voice.

“Do as I say! Follow me!”

“No...no…NO! Wait! STOP! We can’t leave the path! We must stay on the path.” The smaller being tried to reasoned with the dwarves, but they all follow their leader obediently, like they could no longer hear the hobbit’s voice of reason.

The hobbit huffed in exasperation and made to follow them but was pulled back with force the moment one of his foot raised to leave the path. Legolas shook his head keeping him close.

“No, don’t, I…” The elf took a deep breath in and released it slowly. “It’s…wrong, I cannot explain it, but we cannot follow them or death will come.”

“But, they…we can’t just let them get lost in the forest.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them, but we stay on the path, if we reach Mirkwood before them, we’ll asked the elves to help them, but we stay on the path.” Legolas was firm and wasn’t letting the hobbit move away at all.

“I…” Bilbo looked at the dwarves, they already looked lost, yelling at each other and wandering in different directions. Following them would not help anyone. “Very well.”

Releasing the hobbit coat, only to take his hand, Legolas moved forward, one arrow in his other hand to tap the rocks of the path. They moved, staying close to one another, moving slowly. His hand was held firmly by his son, Legolas would tug him back to his side every time to the hobbit gaze focused for too long on one of the dwarves that would pop in and out of their field of visions yelling at each other that one or the other had found the path again. It was scary to see the madness of the forest taking over their companions, having them walk in circle and…backward. Bilbo could hear their voices like an echo every so often.

“I don’t remember this bit! None of it’s familiar!”

“It’s got to be here! It can’t have just DISAPPEARED!?!”

“Unless someone’s moved it.”

“it’s not over there neither!”

“There’s dwarves in these woods!”

“They are being driven to madness by the sickness of the forest.” Legolas said stopping for a moment. They could see from the path, the dwarves hunched in a circle over a pouch dropped by one of them like they had never seen the object before.

“It’s yours! You are going around in circles the path is here! Come here!” Bilbo shouted trying to get their attention, waving his free hand at the hunched group. But they never looked up, it was as if they couldn’t even hear the smaller being voice.

“The forest won’t let them find the path again, it’s not letting your voice reach them. It’s a predator playing with its prey.” The elf muttered looking around. “The path is keeping us from the curse, but barely, it’s too old and weak, its magic is barely fighting to keep us safe.”

“How much longer can it keep us from this fate?” Bilbo asked worried now.

“If we could get some fresh air, just get away from its heaviness and clear our head for a moment we might be able to make it to the end. But if we stay here to long…I’m already feeling the pull of the curse to walk toward the shadows.”

“We are lost!” The dwarves below yelled.

“We are not lost! We are heading east.” Thorin snapped appearing from behind rocks and mushrooms. Bilbo could see his glazed over eyes, unfocused and lost in the fog.

“But which way is east? We’ve lost the sun.” Oin voice rung out from somewhere else.

Bilbo looked up, having a rare moment of clarity. The sun, he could see the sun still shining far far above their head though the thick red leaves. “The sun…we have to find the sun! Up there!”

Legolas follow his father gaze, his own eyes clearing for a brief moment. They rushed forward and once they had found a tree with a solid and climbable trunk, that was next to the path, they started their ascension. Bilbo could hear now the voice of the dwarves loudly arguing below them, shouting in panic, but they couldn’t stay and watch over them anymore. They needed to get out of the forest air and into the sun as fast as possible, their limbs growing heavier and heavier as they climbed up, like they were being pulled back down, the forest not wanting them to get free. The forest around them was a blur, their sole focus on the few stray rays of light they could see peeking through the branches. Legolas, much faster, reached the top before the hobbit and reached down, grabbing his hand and pulling him up and over the red and grey leaves covering the top of the forest.

Wind blissful, pure, light wind caressed the hobbit face and a deep sigh escaped his lips. The cursed air that had been trapped in his lungs, pushing deep sleep upon him and fogging up his mind cleared away little by little with each breath. Bilbo opened his eyes slowly taking in the scenery around them. All around the duo, butterflies the color of his son eyes flew up into the sky surrounding them in pure blue softness and filling their ears with the sound of their fluttering wings. After the weird whispers and the eerie silence of the forest, the butterflies’ wings were a welcome new calming sound to snap them both back into reality. Once the butterflies had left, Bilbo looked around trying to find any point of reference to navigate better once they would need to get back down.

“I can see a lake and a river.” Legolas pushed down a branch that was blocking the hobbit’s view. “And the Lonely mountain. We’re almost there!”

“Father hush.” The elf froze.

“Wha…” Legolas hand was covering his mouth and his other was pointing forward.

Following the direction his son was pointing toward, the hobbit could see the trees before them shaking violently and could hear below them branches snapping under a heavy weight. The leaves on the horizon started to shake more and more as whatever was approaching them was moving faster and faster toward…where they had left the dwarves. Meeting his son’s gaze, he nodded and the hand covering his mouth was removed. As one, they moved down, now with their head clear they could see all around them huge spider web’s littering the top of the trees, wrapped around all the branches. The sticky white webs were all around them, Bilbo’s foot was caught in one of them and he almost fell forward, only held back by the elf strong arm around his waist. Legolas placed his mouth close to this ear and whispered.

“Look in front of us, down, just there.”

Bilbo focus trying to see what his son was seeing and froze his blood running cold in his veins. Just below them, surrounded by a large cocoon of webs, was an enormous spider. The biggest one he had ever seen in his life, just waiting there completely still as if waiting for a prey.

“They are capturing the dwarves.” Legolas said in a hushed tone.

“We need to go help them.”

“There’s to many and we’re only two, we won’t be able to get close enough to help them without being captured ourselves.” The elf pointed out.

“Well….” The hobbit could feel the ring’s excitement pulsing from his pocket. It knew what the hobbit was thinking and was pushing to be used, singing it’s seducing song to try and sway the smaller being faster. “I could…”

“No.” The elf huffed feeling the pulse of the ring himself though their bond.

“It’s the best option, if we don’t do something can you guarantee they’ll still be alive even if we come back with Mirkwood elves in tow?”

“…no, but still, I’ll have to stay still or let it take over, neither option appeals to me.”

“To me either, but just because they were too cursed to follow simple instructions doesn’t mean they deserve to die.”

“…well.” Bilbo shot a glare at this son over his shoulder. Legolas rolled his eyes, pulling them both back toward the open space at the top of the tree where the webs didn’t reach. “Very well, just give me a moment. It’s hard to focus and I’ll need all my strength to keep it’ influence at bay.”

Bilbo sat next to this son, waiting patiently with a nod. Closing his eyes, Legolas took some deep breath and leaned back making himself comfortable on one of the branches. “I’ll stay here, the moment that thing is of, stay still and I’ll come find you.”

“Thank you sweetheart and…I’m sorry.” Bilbo gave his son a quick kiss on the cheek and moved back down slipping the ring on his finger.

The world around him turned grey and sharp. Interestingly enough, as the hobbit moved back toward the ground, the curses in the air didn’t seem to affect him anymore. The ring pulsing and keeping it away, wanting to monopolize the smaller being mind for itself and not letting anything else in. Bilbo kept a close eye on the spider still below him, trying to see where the others had taken the dwarves. He took a moment to focus and was surprised that he could now hear those hushed whispers more clearly.

“Kill them! Kill them.” He could understand the spiders, their voices coming out in angry hisses from all around him. “Eat them! While their blood is running. Their hide is tough, but there’s good juice inside.”

Moving toward the noise, now not so careful as to not disturbed the webs, Bilbo was cutting the webs on his path inciting panic into the big arachnids who could not see what was disturbing and destroying their webs. He moved quickly running along the thicker branches, the sticky web under his feet actually helping him stay stable as he moved along. He came upon the main nest, filled with the dwarves wrapped in thigh cocoons and approached slowly. There were many spiders here and he didn’t particularly want to accidentally touch any of them.  Pulling out his sword, he moved to the closest cocoons and was startled when at the same time two spiders moved crowding over it when the trapped prey inside quick up at the closest spider.

“The meat’s alive and kicking! Kill him! Kill him now!”

“Let us Feasssst! Feast! Feast!” More and more spiders started to come forward excited by the wiggling’s of the dwarves. Quickly, Bilbo ripped a part of the trunk he was standing on and threw it as far as he could into another web further away. The frenzy paused for a moment, all spiders turning toward the disturbance.

“What is it? What is it? What is it? Eat them alive!” As one, the spiders moved leaving their secured meal to see what had moved their webs. Unfortunately, one of the spiders, the biggest one in Bilbo’s opinion had stayed behind and was now looming over one of the dwarves.

“Fat and juicy! Just a little…taste.” Without hesitation, the hobbit raised his sword and swung at the spider back, slicing its back open. The spider turned hissing in anger and looking for a target, but unable to locate the small being. Swinging again and again as he moved forward, Bilbo cut down the arachnid two front legs. “Curse it! Where is it?! Where is it!?!”

Bilbo feeling the push of the ring into his mind strongly, smiled darkly and removed the ring for a moment, shoving it back deep into his vest pocket and became visible once again sword raised. “Here!”

He plunged his sword just under the spider dark glossy eyes to the hilt. “Ah! It stings! It stings!”

The spider cried in pain, death turning its body rigid as it fell to the ground taking with it many of the webs. Bilbo looked down until he was sure the spider was no longer moving and looked at his sword with a dark little smile. “Sting, Ah! That’s a good name.”

He shivered feeling the ring influence and pushed it back. Now that he had removed the ring, he didn’t feel like putting it on again, not liking the darkness that had slowly been cursing into him no longer restrained by the elf. It had been too long; he should have removed it earlier. Looking for the bond he shared with his son, he felt a wave of comfort coming from it and sighed in relief. His son would join him soon.

Moving forward, hi sword in hand he moved quickly cutting down the cocoons one by one and watching them fall to the ground below. He could ear grunts and moans as they hit the ground, but he didn’t have time to check on them, he needed to free them all before the other spiders came back. Counting under his breath, to make sure he didn’t forget anyone, Bilbo reached the last one and with one last strong swing sent the last cocoon tumbling to the ground. Looking to the ground, he counted again and sighed in relief when he saw the dwarves freeing themselves. He started coming down, hearing the dwarves talk among themselves, their voice growing closer as he jumped down to another branch.

“You alright there, Bofur?”

“I’m all right!”

“Get off me!”

“Where’s Bilbo?”

“I’m up here!” The hobbit shouted on his way down, when just as he was about to reach the ground, a smaller spider jumped toward him legs stretched out reaching for the smaller being. Startled, the hobbit jumped back, his back hitting the trunk of the tree he was still standing on and just like with the orcs, he held out his sword in front of him, letting his attacker impaled itself upon his sword as they fell to the ground bouncing on stray branches and knocking the wind out of his small body.

Trying to catch his breath after hitting the hard ground, Bilbo stayed lying on the ground gasping. He could hear the dwarves fighting not too far away, yelling orders and warnings at each other. Taking a deep breath, he was able to sit up and moved his body making sure nothing was broken. He felt the ring pulse angrily in his pocket and gave it a slap. He was feeling nauseous, the dark tendrils still tugging at his mind and had to place a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up. “Stop it or I swear I’m leaving you here with the spiders.”

The ring stopped pulsing, it almost felt like it was pouting, but finally the hobbit stomach settled and he didn’t feel the presence trying to twist his mind anymore. Taking a deep breath, sword still at the ready, he would not be caught by surprise again, the hobbit moved toward the fighting noises, trying to reach the dwarves. He could hear them, their voices getting farther away, as they ran away from the spiders.

“Come one keep up!”

“We’re clear!” He heard Thorin’s voice the loudest and ran toward the sound.

He heard more fighting and…it almost sounded like there was more fighters now? Climbing over a fallen tree, Bilbo looked on at the curious scene before him. The spiders had been slain and all around the dwarves stood elves, their bows at the ready.

A young elf with brown air was standing before Thorin, arrow pointed at the king’s forehead with a sneer on his face. “Do not think won’t kill you dwarf; it would be my pleasure.”

More and more elves came out of the woods bows and swords at the ready, hoarding the dwarves to the center of the clearing. Bilbo wasn’t sure what to do at this point. It didn’t look like the elves were happy to see the dwarves in their territories and they were searching them for weapons, confiscating all that they could. Adding to the fact that his son had still not joined him and that Legolas had asked Bilbo to stay in one spot so he could find him, the hobbit lowered himself back down, hiding behind the fallen tree.

He could hear the commotions and discussions behind him. The dwarves were upset grumbling, while the elves talked between themselves. He heard a crunch of leaves just behind his hiding spot and froze.

“Are the spiders dead?” Bilbo ears prickle, why did that voice sound familiar?

“Yes Captain, but more will come. There’re growing bolder.” The lass voice he didn’t recognize, but still the other one...why?

“Pack their belonging and bring the prisoners back to Mirkwood. Our Lord will want to speak to them. I’ll stay behind to make sure the spiders do not follow and will send the prisoners belonging back. Leave some soldiers and go.”

“Yes Captain!”

Hearing footsteps walking away, Bilbo waited for another breath, just to be sure he would not be spotted and chanced a peak over his hiding spot. The smaller being froze when he realized one of the elf was still standing over his hiding spot and he must have made a noise, because the elf captain turned around hand on his sword and…froze.

OH!....oh. Sheepishly the hobbit waved up at the elf with hair so black they almost appeared blue and watched has well-known green eyes widen in surprise. Well…that is not how the hobbit had though he would ever meet his ex-lover again.

Chapter Text

Caranthir stood still looking at the hobbit with confusion, his gaze moved to the dwarves being hoarded away and a sigh escaped his lips in exasperation. Moving his lips into one silent word, not wanting to alert the other elves, the dark haired elf made sure to have to hobbit full attention.

STAY

Bilbo immediately nodded in agreement and slid softly and quietly back into his hiding spot. That had been quite the surprise and the smaller being wasn’t sure what Caranthir had in mind by not revealing his existence right away, but he decided to wait and trust his ex-lover decision. Closing his eyes, the hobbit allowed the sound around him to fade away and he concentrated on the bond he shared with his son. He still hadn’t seen any sign of Legolas and now that he had a moment to slow down his heartbeat and breath calmly, he was getting worried. Feeling around for the bond, he had to really concentrate and pulled on it gently, like a quiet question, a need for reassurance. It wasn’t long before warmth filled his entire body, calming and loving. His son was close and would be there soon. With a sigh of relief, the hobbit reopened his eyes and paid more attention to the commotion of elves behind him.

“Captain, everything was gathered and the prisoner are being brought to the dungeons.”

“Good, go ahead I’ll follow shortly.” Caranthir commanding voice resonated into the now quiet forest.

“But…” Bilbo could picture the hard stare the speaking soldier must have received. He had seen it often enough when the dark haired elf had been teaching his son. “Yes, captain!”

He heard footsteps moving away, accompanied by the cling of the weapons they had taken from the dwarves. It wasn’t long before only silence could be heard, but knowing the fine earing of the elven folks, Bilbo choose to wait frozen in his hiding spot. He couldn’t hear the dark haired elf moving and jumped his heart in his throat, when the well-known deep voice resonated above his head.

“Bil-Bo Bag-Gins.” The hobbit looked up to see Catanthir standing over the fallen tree, looming over him with a disappointed look in his green eyes. “What kind of company are you keeping these days to find yourself in my woods?”

“I was invited on a quest?” He said with a shrug, not sure how much he should say.

“Sigh…and here I though hobbits didn’t go on adventure.” The elf eyes soften and he jumped down to face the hobbit properly.

“You would know better than most that I don’t really fit into the usual hobbit mold.” Bilbo said getting to his feet. Caranthir huffed in agreement reaching out a hand to help the hobbit to get up.

“I would, wouldn’t I?”

Bilbo could only smile and happily hugged the elf when the taller being lean down toward him arms open. It felt wonderful to feel those familiar arms around him, grounding the smaller being into this moment in time, but also bringing back nostalgia of quieter days.

“It’s good to see you again old friend.” Caranthir said with joy in his voice. They parted and a frowned appear on his face. “Wait…if you’re here?”

“I’m here too.” A whisper came from over their head and the elf hand was back on his sword when he spun around startled. The dark haired elf gaze moved around the branches above their head and landed on the young blond elf hiding in the shadows just above them with a mischievous smile on his face. “Good day teacher!”

Legolas jumped down landing so close to them, that the dark haired elf had to move back and away from the hobbit to avoid being hit by the blond elf bow. The exasperated sigh that escaped Caranthir lips was a well-practiced one, one solely reserved for his former student.

“Of course you followed, little shadow.” Caranthir said with an eye roll.

Bilbo smiled at the playful tone, he allowed his son to look him over, but stopped him when he noticed the red on the young elf arm. “What’s this??!”

“Oh…I lost my concentration for a moment because I was attacked by a spider. It had time to injured me before I realized it was upon me.” The hobbit remembered feeling the darkness take over his mind for a moment, when he had been enjoying slicing into the arachnid. This must have been when Legolas had not been able to keep the ring influence at bay. “I might have left a small spider cemetery behind when I came back to my sense and made my way to you.”

“Show me your arm!” Bilbo grabbed his son arm, not liking the angry red line that was still bleeding marring his precious son skin.

“That’s not good, those spiders have poison in their fangs to immobilize their prey’s.” The dark haired elf said looking at the wound over the hobbit head.

“Poison!!”

“I feel fine, it’s but a graze.” Legolas said with confidence. The hobbit only had to apply a little pressure to the young elf arm to see him wince and glared at him.

“It would be better to treat it as soon as possible. The poison is slow acting in small quantities, but still very potent.” Bilbo looked at his ex-lover with worried eyes. “Follow me, I’ll make you enter Mirkwood through one of its hidden passages. I have antidotes in my home.”

“Thank you Caranthir, I owe you once again.”

“You’ll owe me some explanations about this whole dwarven business once Legolas is cured.”

Bilbo could only nod in agreement. He truly didn’t know how much he could say to the dark haired elf, but he would at least try to explain the situation as best he could. Since Elrond had been against their quest, for fear of waking the dragon, he had an inkling that the Mirkwood lord would probably be even less incline to allow them to go poke around the Lonely Mountains. Which meant that once again, the hobbit would have to find a way to save the dwarves and get them out of the dungeons. With Caranthir being the captain of the guards, he could guess that a dwarfs’ escape plan would not be approved by the elf.

They walk deeper into the forest, the two elves helping the smaller being to move through the fallen branches and over the bigger rocks. Once they had reached the woodland kingdom, the dark haired elf stirred them away from the main bridge and to the right side of the wooden fortress. Sliding down some green moss covered rocks, Caranthir waited for them to join him, arm open and ready to catch the hobbit. Since one of Legolas arm was injured, the smaller being had to go down by himself and slipped much faster than anticipated, only caught by strong arms at the last minute. The dark haired elf took the hobbit in his arms with a smile.

“Hold tight.” With one long jumped over the rushing water, the elf landed easily on a rock barely big enough for one of his foot and used the momentum to jump once again forward and to the other side. Looking back, worried for the younger elf, Bilbo saw his son easily following, making the jump with much more grace than the other elf, like it was nothing to him. “Show off.”

“You’re just jealous.” Legolas sneered, but he had a smile on his face.

Caranthir hummed softly and moved to the side and into a small opening that they couldn’t have seen from the other side of the river. The opening led them to a large corridor carved into the green rocks surrounded by the roots of the trees that hosted Mirkwood in to their branches. Bilbo was placed back to the ground carefully and they moved silently up and up into a twisted corridor that never seem to end.

“Follow me closely, there’s traps and false exit that will lead you to your death if you lose your way.”

The hobbit nodded hurrying his steps to stay close to their guide. Once again, Legolas hand grabbed the fabric of the smaller being coat, making sure he would not get lost. Just like Caranthir had warned them, during their ascension, they passed many corridors that looked much more inviting than the path they were following, almost beckoning them to leave their path. Bilbo tried to remember the path, he really tried but with every turn and corner, the corridors all looked the same to him and he soon came to the realization that without Caranthir he would get lost in seconds. He could not count on this exit to get the dwarves out and would have to find another way to escape Mirkwood with his companions. Finally, the corridor even out and they reached the end of the corridor. Caranthir stopped them with a raised hand and he moved forward, moving a heavy fabric out of the way. The dark haired elf disappeared for a moment, leaving them in the dark, but he came back quickly, holding a cape in his hand.

“Get on Legolas shoulder and cover yourself with this, we need to move quickly.”

With the dark elf help, the hobbit was placed on the younger elf shoulder and the cape was draped over them both. The older elf nodded in approval and held out the drapery to let them out.

“Stay close to me, do not make eye with anyone and do not stop for any reason.”

Lowering his eyes, the hobbit nodded and Legolas started to follow Caranthir as closely as he could his vision impaired by the fabric of the cape. All the smaller being could see was the reflection of candle light on the wooden floor of Mirkwood. He wanted so badly to look up and around, to be able to see the elven kingdom, but he knew they had to be careful. He was conscious of a few eyes on him, could feel their gaze on them, but they moved on, walking behind the dark haired elf with even pace, trying not to attract to much attention.

“Come in, quick.”

They passed a door and the cape was taken off swiftly. Curious now that he was free from the heavy fabric, Bilbo looked around. They were in a small foyer, all made of dark woods, with vines coming down from the ceiling and soft candle light bathed the entrance into a calm glow. There was a corridor to the left and to the right. To his left, he could see a half closed door, the opening letting out soft sunlight.

“Come with me, I’ll treat your arm before the poison spread.” Caranthir voice sounded nervous and he pulled the young elf with him and into the corridor on the right. Bilbo was about to follow when he heard soft humming coming from the left. He stopped on his track, paying attention to the familiar song. He knew that song, that was music from the Shire.

Curiosity taking over, the hobbit moved to the half closed door and he peeked inside. On the other side, he could see a large bedroom with six very large curved windows surrounded on all side by a myriad of colorful flowers, that went from the floor to the ceiling. The arched wooden ceiling was carved into intricate patterns, filled with vines and more colorful flowers that intertwined themselves all over the ceiling and walls. The room was bathed into the soft glow of the setting sun, the soft light stretching over the warm brown polished wood covering the floor and the soft looking carpet that covered a vast majority of the floor. A massive bed rested on the far side of the room, with deep green sheets and a truly impressive collection of colorful pillows and cushions.

Walking into the room without even realizing it, it just looked so inviting, the hobbit followed the sound of the humming to find himself standing in front of the window that had most of the falling light of the setting sun shining through it and in front of which stood a throne looking weaved chair where a beautiful creature was knitting humming softly under her breath, lost in her little world.

The elven lass was truly a sight; she had curled amber honeyed hair that turned the most striking shade of orange into the falling sun light, falling all over her shoulders.  All over her hair like they had bloomed there only to enhance her enchanting appearance, bloomed purple and white flowers. Her round face was the very definition of peerless beauty, all softness and flawless like most elves. But where almost all the elves the smaller being had seen looked sharp, like they had been cut with a knife to perfection, she was all curves and softness. Her soft looking body was covered in a flowy pale green robe that fell around her like the petals of an open flower. Her long eyelashes fluttered and she looked up and at him with ocean blue eyes that pierced his heart with their intelligence and curiosity. Her pink heart shape mouth curved into a little half smile and her sharp eyebrows raised up in surprised.

“Well…Good evening and who might you be little intruder?” Even her voice was honeyed and sweet. She tilted her head when he didn’t answer right away and it finally seemed to break the spell the hobbit was under.

“I’m so sorry for intruding my lady, Bilbo Baggins at your service.” He bowed, what else could he do in front of such a sight.

“oh? OH!” A huge smile appeared on her face and she looked like she was positively glowing with excitement. She reached her hand forward and Bilbo moved immediately to take it, noticing she wasn’t even touching the ground while sitting in her large chair…had he ever seen such a small elf?

“You’re Bilbo! My husband told me all about you and the Shite! I’m so happy to finally meet you Master Baggins!” She pulled him forward, studying his face with those curious ocean blue eyes. “I always wanted to visit the Shire! This is such a nice surprise!”

“Oh well it’s my pleasure…why the Shire?” Bilbo was truly curious; he hadn’t meet any elf that excited about his home before.

“My great-great-great-great grandmother was a hobbit!” She moved to her feet and stood before Bilbo, taller than him but by barely three apples. “Oh I’m so excited to finally meet you Master Baggins! My family always say’s I look exactly like my ancestor!”

“You have hobbit in your family tree?”

“Yesssss! My mother said I was so small when I was borne she was ever so worried, especially with how tall my older sister is, but I’m just more hobbit than they though.” She giggled and Bilbo was absolutely enchanted by the sound. Studying her more closely, he could see traces of Hobbit in her. Her ears where slightly bigger and rounder than regular elf ears and he did notice now that the dress had fallen away, that the lass was barefoot. Her feet were not hairy like a hobbit, but definitely less small and dainty than an elf. She had golden chain with purple flowers decorating her ankles and little golden rings on her toes. She followed his gaze and giggled again. “I never liked shoes, they always felt to…”

“Constraining!”

“YES!” They exchanged a knowing look.

“What was your ancestor name? I might know some of your lineage or cousin from the Shire.”

“Primula Took!” Bilbo startled, of course it would be a Took that would have elven descendant.

“Cousin! I’m a Baggins-Took!” She gasped loudly, tears of joy shining in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she let go of his hand and did a small curtesy.

“Well my dear cousin, I humbly bid you welcome to Mirkwood, let me introduce myself, Sylviana daughter of Tauressar and Calmiriel and descendant of Primula Took.” She looked up at him from her curtsy with a little smile on her lips. “But, please cousin call me Syl, you are family after all.”

“A pleasure to meet Syl.” A little sound of excitement escaped the lass as she clapped her hands together happily.

“Oh how I wished we could have meet you at the Shire like we had planned.”

“You were planning a trip to the Shire?” Bilbo was truly surprise.

“YES! It was to be our honeymoon second stop, but well….” She caressed her dressed revealing a pregnant belly the hobbit hadn’t notice before. “Our Lord will not allow any pregnant elf to leave Mirkwood, it is a very strict law that all must abide too.”

“I can see the wisdom in it, but why?” Although a small tingling at the back of the hobbit minds was screaming at him that he already knew the answer.

“Oh! Well you see many years ago, the lord’s wife left to travel the land pregnant with their first heir and…well she was attacked and they never…”

“Honeybee are you there?” Caranthir voiced resonated in the corridor cutting Sylviana off.

“I’m here my love!” She answered in a singsong voice. The door was pushed fully opened and Caranthir sigh in relief seeing his wife and the hobbit. Legolas was following closely behind the dark haired elf and Bilbo notice his arm was wrapped in a fresh white bandage. The hobbit was about to introduce his son, when a loud gasp had his head spinning back to the lass. A string of curses that would have had a maiden blushing escaped the sweet heart shaped mouth, making all three of them freeze in shock.

“CARANTHIR YOU ARE AN OBLIVIOUS IDIOT!”

“Honeybee! What…!” The dark haired elf was railing as his small wife pointed from him to the blond elf with an accusing finger.

“LOOOOOOOK AT HIM! ARE YOU BLIND!” Caranthir turned to look at Legolas. The blond elf was completely lost and Bilbo had a sinking feeling in his heart that he knew exactly who his son looked like. “All those time you mentioned the young elf being raised by a hobbit in the Shire to me, how did you never mentioned he looked exactly like our lord and his wife? He’s their exact portrait!”

“WHAT!!? No, he’s…….shit.” The last piece of the puzzle seemed to finally slip into place for the dark haired elf and his face became white as a sheet. “He does!”

Bilbo had to be fair to Caranthir, when he had first met the blond elf, Legolas had still been quite young and still very round in the face. It had taken a couple of years for the young elf face to get its sharper angles making him look more mature. The hobbit could guess that by the time the dark haired elf had made his way to Mirkwood and met the lord of the elven kingdom the resemblance, and he could guess from Sylviana instant recognition that it was a strong resemblance, might not have been quite as strong from the dark haired elf memories of a young Legolas.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! You absolute miracle!” Sylviana was looking at the young elf in marvel, tears rolling down her face. She took Bilbo hand in hers squeezing them softly, her other hand was on her stomach caressing her unborn babe. “You had him all this time, you keep our lord heir safe all this time...thank you.”

Bilbo looked at his son with a soft smile. “It was love at first sight, what else could I do, he’s so precious.”

“Can you tell me your story? What happened to her? Our queen?” She released Bilbo’s hand and moved to a table filled with paper. Reaching for a small frame, she handed it over to Legolas who had moved to stand by his father side. “When our parents died, she took us, my sister and I, under her wings, she was our mother for many years before she got pregnant with you. The day you were announced was a day of great celebration and I never ever dreamed I would one day see you alive and well before me…little brother!”

The blond elf crouched down, leaning against his father smaller frame, in his hand was a small portrait of a familiar face. On the portrait, Legolas mother had a soft small dreamy smile on her lips, her hair was braided into a crown that fell over her ears and around her face framing it beautifully. Her soft sky blue eyes, so like his son were slightly wrinkled at the corner into a slightly mischievous look.  She was as breathtakingly beautiful as Bilbo remembered.

“What was her name?” Legolas asked in a small voice his eyes never leaving the portrait. 

“Tinuviel, our dear queen of the twilight.” Sylviana answered, she moved forward caressing the young elf face with tender hands. “You look so much like her…”

“Legolas.” The elf provided his name and she smiled with a nod.

“A very fitting name for the heir of Mirkwood, our lost prince.” The young elf smiled taking her hand and placing a small kiss at the back of it in thanks. Bilbo was hugging his son close, letting him process the new information at this own pace. It was a lot to take in and Legolas soft gaze was fixed on the portrait in his hand. The young elf long fingers were caressing the small painting, Bilbo had described his mother to him the best he could, but from hearing to seeing was a new experience for the young elf.

“…our lord is going to kill me.” Caranthir voice broke the spell and they all turned toward the dark haired elf. “He’s never going to forgive this......oh honeybee what will I do?”

The dark haired elf was now in a full panic, pacing the floor back and forth. Bilbo could see where he was coming from. How would he have reacted if someone he trusted had hidden his son from him for so long. He would be furious and couldn’t imagine how a powerful elven king would react to the news.

Sylviana watched her husband pace for a moment, her gaze unfocused, lost in though. Bilbo had an inkling that she was much smarter than all of them, when her eyes lit up and she marched to her desk pulling ink, paper and quills.

“Write letters! Now both of you.”  Bilbo and Caranthir turned to her confused. “You! Bilbo write a couple of letters saying you wish to visit Caranthir and that you are making your way toward Mirkwood. You! My love, will write answers to the letters, write at least five or six. We’ll make them look tattered and well read. Once that is done, my love, you will go to the bridge and let them know you are awaiting visitors. Tomorrow at first light, you will both sneak out of here and re-enter by the bridge path.”

“I’ll give the letters Caranthir wrote as proof I was expected!” Bilbo said following the plan rapidly coming out of the small ginger elf mouth.

“YES! We will introduce you two to our lord as our visitors from the Shire! We have a big celebration coming up, the guards are already too distracted by the upcoming feast to really pay attention anyway, the letters should be enough to make them call Caranthir over and he’ll escort you in. Once our lord see’s Legolas…hopefully he’ll be too distracted to kill my husband.”

“Hopefully?” The dark haired repeated his voice small with insecurity.

“Oh hush my love, do you have a better idea?” She gave the taller elf a pointed look and he moved to the desk to write his half of the letter exchange.

Bilbo also moved to do his part, letting the lass and his son talked between themselves in hush voices. This would be good for him too. If he could be seen as a visitor and not connected to the dwarves, he could more easily move around the woodland kingdom and maybe find a way to get them out. He could hear his son asking questions about his mother to the fallen queen adoptive daughter, they were sitting next to each other, holding hands and Sylviana was looking up at the blond elf like he was a gift from the sky. She answered all of his questions with a patient warm tone, he did notice her other hand was still pressed on her own belly. He could only imagine what kind of protective instinct his son story was awakening in the future mother heart.

Once they had completed the letters, Caranthir crumbled them and took some dirt from the potted plants by the window to rub on the paper, Sylviana did glare at him for disturbing her plants and taking his half of the letters, the dark haired left to complete his part of the mission. They watched him leave and Bilbo looked at the other half of the letters in his hand.

Since they had lost their bags and belonging, the little ginger elf packed two bags with sheets to make them appear bigger and fuller. Everything was prepared meticulously by the lady, she was going over all the part of her plan. When her husband came back they exchanged a look and he nodded, it was all ready. Bilbo untied his sword from his side and place it with the rest of their baggage’s. Caranthir made a little sound next to him and Bilbo looked up with a raised eyebrow in question.

“Much better than a butter knife.” The hobbit chucked with a roll of his eyes.

“Lobelia would never have allowed me to leave the Shire with her cutlery.” The dark haired shivered at the though.

“Whose Lobelia?” Sylviana asked while she was serving some drinks and food to Legolas.

“Oh my dear cousin, you would love her! Let me tell you about Lobelia, you’ll definitely need to visit her once your babe is born, she’ll love you!”

Caranthir turned white at the very idea of those two meeting, while his son nodded his head aggressively in glee. With a chuckled Bilbo took the offered mug of tea and sat with them talking about the Shire and their family. He wouldn’t be able to sleep this night, his body too full of nerves for what was to come and preferring this light subject of conversation to that was looming on the horizon when the sun would rise announcing a new day.

The four of them stayed up late talking, reminiscing and telling tales of the young elf life in the Shire. At some point, Sylviana feel asleep in her chair, unable to fight the pull of the night anymore. Her husband picked her up and tucked her into bed with the most besotted adoring look on his face that the hobbit had ever seen. It wasn’t long before Legolas, worn out from his long day and still exhausted from his fight with the spiders was also curled up on one of the plush sofa’s at the far side of the bedroom. Taking a blanket from the dark haired elf, they both moved out of the bedroom and into the small kitchen on the other side of the home.

They pulled chairs by the large window in the kitchen, only illuminated by the light of the full moon, they each opted for a glass of wine, while they shared a smocking pipe in silence. The pipe was passed back and forth, letting the silence of the night and the familiarity of the exchange settle between them. Looking up at the clear full moon, Bilbo sighed and turned to smile at his old friend.

“So you found your heart-song.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement. Caranthir smiled softened his whole face.

“You noticed?”

“Of course I did, your face betrays you more than you think. She softens you, you feel more settled in yourself and I haven’t seen your eye wander to the horizon once since I’ve arrived. You’re not trying to flee, no longer searching for a missing piece.”

“I wasn’t trying to flee…” Bilbo gave him a long stare. “I could have stayed with you both…”

“And you would have been miserable, we both would have been. That’s why I never asked you to stay.”

“I did lov…” Another hard stare from the hobbit.

“We both enjoyed our time together, it wasn’t love, it was fondness, mutual respect and an appreciation of each other bodies.” The tip of the elf ears turned slightly pink. “But your love, true love, is your wife and I can say that without any regrets or jealousy, she’s lovely and I truly do consider her family now.”

“She so wanted to see the Shire and meet her distant relatives. She craves family more than she would ever admit.” The smaller being nodded understanding more than most. After his parents passing, he had been lost and finding Legolas had brought back meaning and light to his life. “When I met Syl, when I heard her song and we became one, it was the most extraordinary thing. I felt like I could see color for the first time in my life, she brought air back into my lungs and gave meaning to my very existence. The tales and songs didn’t lie, the heart-song shook me to my core and left nothing but her to fill the missing half of my soul. She is the light of my soul and the ruler of my heart.”

“You both found what you needed in each other.” Caranthir nodded with that besotted smile on his face. “Good! I wouldn’t want my dear new cousin in a bad marriage.”

“I would never!” Bilbo laugh at the fake outrage in the elf voice and Caranthir eyes soften looking at the hobbit. “Although…I did always have a weakness for lovely hobbits.”

“Flatterer.” Bilbo rolled his eyes but smiled. He had loved his time with the elf, but that time was long passed and it was more comfortable now between them. Their time together was best left where it was and he could now enjoy having his ex-lover and new family member as just that, family.

They stayed together chatting or just letting comfortable silence stretched between them until the first rays of the sun started to peek in the horizon. When they heard voices from the bedroom, they moved as one, preparing a light breakfast, making tea and having conversations. It wasn’t long before it was time to sneak out of Mirkwood and put their plan into motion.

Chapter Text

Sneaking out of the woodland kingdom in the early hours of the day turned out to be much easier than anticipated. Just like Sylviana had predicted, the guards were so focused on the upcoming celebration, that there was barely anyone in the corridors ay dawn and they reached the entrance of the secret passage quickly and without passing any guards.

Once outside, they trekked back into the woods and back to the path, not to far away from the Mirkwood bridge but away from prying eyes. Bilbo and his son settled in the shades, the forest felt much less threatening this close to the woodland kingdom and he couldn’t see one spider webs.

“Just stay here for a little while and then make your way to the bridge, I’ll make sure to go see the guards once I get back and remind them that I am expecting visitors soon.” Caranthir started to leave but turned looking worried. “Just stay on the path, we killed a lot of spiders yesterday and they don’t usually come this close to Mirkwood, but you never know.”

“Oh we will!” Bilbo said with a reassuring smile.

They watched the dark haired elf disappeared into the forest and sat on the path biding their time. Bilbo could feel his son nervousness and jitters shaking the bond between them with the force of his emotions. Reaching for the young elf, their hand found each other and the hobbit gave his son hands a reassuring squeeze.

In silence, they waited, until finally, unable to stay still anymore, the elf got to his feet and started to move forward. “It’s time.”

+++++ Legolas POV+++++

Legolas made sure to stay in front of his father just in case any of the guards reacted before actually seeing who was crossing the bridge. They had after all arrested the dwarves just the day before and from what he had garnered from his father, the guards had not been kind in their interactions with the smaller beings. He was afraid they might react violently to the hobbit presence before they could even realize he wasn’t a dwarf. Taking a moment to stand on the bridge, he made sure that the sun fell down on his hair, letting the wind play into his blond locks and remembered Sylviana instructions from the night before.

“Let the sun hit your hair, you have darker hair than the lord, under the sun it will look lighter and more like his. Don’t make eye contact right away, the blue of your eyes will break the illusion, we want them confuse and thinking they are seeing their king. The more confused they are the easier it’ll be for you and your father to get inside. Do not talk, let your father do the talking, our lord is an intense quiet ruler, be confident, hold you head high and stare down at them.”

He did exactly has instructed and could see the effect his presence incited when the face of the guards outside started to be filled with complete and utter confusion. They could not even fathom raising their bow or touching their sword, looking at the duo on the bridge with complete bewilderment, Legolas could even hear them talking among themselves in hushed whispers.

“Why is Lord Thranduil outside?” One of the guards whispered. “I just saw him in the hall.”

“That is not our Lord.” Hushed another, but his voice didn’t sound fully convinced, more like a question.

“But….”

“Humm Good day? My name is Bilbo Baggins from the Shire! I am visiting an old friend of mine who is expecting us, Caranthir.” His father voice sounded a little unsure, but he stood his ground, peering at the guard around the young elf frame. Taking out the letters the dark haired elf had written only the night before, they moved across the bridge and handed them to one of the guard.

“Someone call the Captain!”

The other guard left in a hurry, running down the entrance corridor once the heavy doors were pushed open to let them inside. Once they were inside, none of the guards dared to move to close to them, staring at the young elf in wonder. Legolas was now staring them all down, his gaze hard and unflinching, letting them see his blue eyes and enjoying the mix of amazement and stupor that he could see reflect back unto him. Caranthir finally appeared, faking his surprised at seeing them, he moved with big gestures and with a smile that had too much teeth. If not for that fact that the guards were all more focus on Legolas than they were on their captain, he was sure the dark haired elf would have blown the whole plan to bits. He accepted the one arm awkward hug from the captain and was ushered in with his father.

“It’s such a pleasure to see you again old friend…” Caranthir was saying once again his movement too broad and his acting to force.

Legolas allowed the voice to wash over him, his gaze traveling to the sights surrounding him. Mirkwood, was a place of true wonder, he could feel it’s magic pulsing around him, not quite the same as the one he had felt in Rivendell. It was less settled, less calm, more wild, cursing through the branches and roots that built and form the elven kingdom of the forest. Everything around them was alive, carved into the wood of the kingdom, but also flowing freely, trees growing everywhere forming columns of nature and the vegetation was bending to the will of the magic around them, creating bridges and openings for the rays of the sun to illuminate their paths. It was a balance of nature and magic, that felt comforting, enveloping him in a sense of familiarity he had only ever felt in the Shire. 

Every elf they pass stopped frozen in shock, meeting the young elf gaze and soft gasp could be heard all around them as they moved along the halls of the woodlands realms, weaving between trees and columns, more and more elves appearing wanting the see the new comers. Barely anything was said about the hobbit, their focus was solely on the young blond elf.  Which seemed better to the elf, he did not want those elves, when he didn’t know their intentions yet, to focus to much on the smaller being. Here in this kingdom whom they were most likely to betray by freeing the dwarves rotting in the dungeons, it was better not to be payed to much attention. Above all else, his father should not be places in danger and that was his upmost priority, if he could be the distraction to keep the smaller being safe, he would gladly be paraded around the woodland kingdom.

They reached a long serpentine path, that lead them to the throne room, before them stood an impressive throne, high up from the ground, made of weaved roots and branches. A soft music could be heard playing and echoing around them, coming from a small group of musicians that stood next to the throne. All around stood fully armored guards with lances staring down at them from all side. Sitting on the throne, was the lord of Mirkwood and the young elf could see why he had been recognized so quickly. Sharp features, cut into tight angles, a long body, strong from combat, long almost white hair unto which rested a crown of branches decorated with glistening red-orange leaves. The king was draped over his throne, his focus on the musicians playing below. When they reached him, his stormy grey eyes turned to them scanning them one by one and falling with finality unto him.

The king held out his hand halting the music and a silence fell on the woodland kingdom.  The silence stretched as grey eyes met sky blue ones, letting all else wash over them. It felt like all had stopped breathing, not even the wind could be heard. The only sound the young elf could hear was the beating of his heart resonating loudly into his ears. He watched, standing like a statue, while the king of the woodland kingdom rose from his throne, his golden robe falling around him as he moved down the stairs to reach their level. Those stormy grey eyes never left his, completely focus on the young elf, studying every angles of his face. Legolas could feel the master of the woodland kingdom magic curl around him, pushing, exploring his whole being even before his hand came to be placed against his cheek. The tips of the king’s fingers were soft against his skin, a little cold but not uncomfortably so, it was a soft touch, almost as if the older elf was expecting him to vanish at any moment. Never breaking eye contact, the two elves stood before each other, studying each other, letting the moment take its meaning and the consequence of time settle between them.

“You’ve come back to me melian.” The voice was nothing more than a whisper, meant only for the young elf.

Legolas allowed himself this moment of emotion and leaned forward when the hand on his cheek moved away.  The king smiled and leaned forward too, meeting the young elf in the middle and letting their forehead touch. He could feel magic searching for the connection that should have been there, that should have united them together at the time of his first breath in this world and…he pushed it away. As much as he could understand the need the older elf had to connect to him, he was still a stranger and he would not allow any bond other than the one he shared with his father to touch his mind. But the king’s magic had found the existing bond and when he leaned back looking into blue eyes, he frowned in confusion.

“How are you…who?”

Breaking the contact, he had shared with the king, Legolas moved back forcing the dark haired elf who had been standing close to move away and revealed the hobbit who had been hidden from view. The young elf could feel a tornado of emotions coming from the smaller being –relief, fear, guilt, love, sadness, remorse- rushing one after the other through the bond they shared and the young elf could tell the older blond elf could feel the connection they shared in some ways. What did catch Legolas attention was how the king’s stormy eyes widen slightly, not in shock or anger, but in surprise and how he glanced quickly at the musicians, like he was expecting them to have been playing music and turned back to the hobbit looking at the smaller being in wonder. Legolas wasn’t the only one that seemed to notice the king mood switch and he could see some of the elves around him now noticing and paying more attention to his father.

Interesting.

“And who have I the pleasure of meeting?” The king asked his voice honeyed but his face completely blank.

“I…Bilbo Baggins from the Shire, please to meet you.” The king extended his hand and took the smaller being hand in his, respectfully Legolas noted, and lowered his head touching the back of the hobbit hand to his forehead.

“Thranduil Oropherion lord of Mirkwood, I am honored to host you in my humble kingdom.” The tall elf stood back up, his gaze studying the smaller being intently, Legolas noticed a small dusting of pink on his father ears and the king then turned toward the younger elf tilting his head in a silent question.

“Legolas Baggins son of Bilbo Baggins from the Shire.” Thranduil grey eyes travelled from one Baggins to the other, silently studying the pair with great interest.

“I see…”

The elves around them were growing in numbers, buzzing in silent whispers around the trio that was standing still, taking in the moment. Legolas did notice, that Thranduil had not yet let go of the hobbit hand and his gaze was noticed. The king released the smaller being hand, but the young elf, didn’t miss the way those strong white hands, flexed and turned into fist at the lost. His father was completely oblivious to what had just transpired and from what Legolas could feel was getting a little overwhelmed from being surrounded by so many taller beings, crowding his small body closer to him. Feeling a surge of protectiveness take over him any time he felt his father in distressed, the blond elf leveled a warning glare at the elves closest to him.

“Move! All of you leave!” Thranduil strong commanding voice echoed into the open space and startled the young elf. It hadn’t even been a yelled and yet the amount of power that had come thought with the order was overwhelming. Only the king’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from following the order. All the other elves including the guards stepped back and left the throne room as fast as they could. “Let us move to a quieter place, we have much to talk about.”

Once again, Legolas watched with interest, as the king of the woodland kingdom offered his hand to the hobbit to guide him. The tall elf took the smaller hand in his and placed it on his arm, a warm look in his eyes. Thranduil than looked to the younger elf and with a small gesture invited him to walk by his side. The grey eyes were studying him, but the focus truly seemed to be on his eyes.

“You have your mother’s eyes, I never thought I’d see them again in this life.”

“Only her eyes?” Legolas was curious what else his birth father could see of her in him.

They passed in front of a large window, illuminating the king’s white hair and casting his large shadow over the younger elf. “No, I can see so many traces of my ithil in you, she shines in you more than I do. Which is a blessing I had not dared to hope for.”

They walk the rest of the way in silence, until they reached heavy green tinted doors and entered a large room filled from wall to walls with books. The space was large, but felt more personal and cozy, books lined the two walls on each side of them, the middle of the room was occupied by two large soft looking couch with pillows of different shades of green. In between the two sofas, was a low table made of heavy wood, filled with papers. In front of the entrance, facing the door, stood three large windows, filled with colorful mosaic of flowers and greenery that casted rainbow shades unto the floor and walls. A big desk that was crowded by quills, papers, scrolls, ink and stamps stood in front of the windows, paired with a throne like heavy chair that had been adorned with cushions, clearly well used from their soft worn out corners. The dark wooden floor was mostly covered by a heavy soft looking beige and bronze rug, that soften the atmosphere in the study.

This Legolas recognized, was were Thranduil took asylum from his duties, this was the king private study. His gaze travelled around the room and he noticed an opening on one of the wall, there in a little nook, an opening surrounded by old leather bound books, stood a couple portrait of the king and his wife. They were both facing forward, but they were holding hands, a soft expression on both or their face, seeming comfortable with each other. The painting was soft, with subdued color, the both of them dressed in white robes with bronze accents, wearing branch crowns decorated with white flowers. He hadn’t realized he had moved to stand in front of the painting until he heard Thranduil voice behind him.

“It was painted on our wedding day.” The tall elf was seating on one of the sofa, his long legs crossed, his arm stretched out over the top of the soft fabric, his eyes traveling from the young elf to the painting. “Tinuviel, that was her name, did you ever know her name?”

“…no, she died without being able to share it with me.” Bilbo said sitting on the other sofa facing the king. Legolas moved to sit by his side and took his hand.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Sharp grey eyes focused solely on the hobbit. Here in what the young elf assume was the older being inner sanctum, more emotions played on the elf face. Where he had been more reserved in the throne room, he was now more relax, but his gaze was also scrutinizing them with great attention. The grey eyes showed more emotions, more vulnerability. Legolas could feel his father compassion pulsing forward with the need to comfort.

With a soft voice, his father told the tell of his mother’s death. The young elf kept constant contact with the hobbit, needing to feel his father grounding touch as he listened to the now well-known history of his past. Emotions flashed all across the king’s face, barely suppressed, as he learned of the fate of his wife.

“Why Legolas? I do not remember discussing the name of our future heir.”

“There was an embroider name on the cloth he was wrapped in and I chose to keep it since it was the only trace of his origins I could gift him…I kept it, the cloth with your wife embroidery, it’s in Legolas bedroom in a small frame…I didn’t…her body wasn’t found again after that night…I’m sorry.” The hobbit said in a small voice.

Thranduil hand covered his face for a moment, gathering his emotions, a deep sighed escaped his tight lips and he nodded. “I didn’t not want her to travel pregnant, but a meeting needed to take place and I was called for talks with the King of the dwarves of the lonely mountains.”

“We passed a dwarven group on our travel your kingdom, have they already pass through here?” Legolas asked leaning forward. He was curious to see the king’s reaction and wanted to know more about the relationship he had with their traveling companions. After all they had heard Thorin’s version of the events and knew of his hatred for the elven king, but he also wanted to know his birth father side of the story. If only to know what kind of elf he was and if he could be trusted. Thranduil eyes darken, turning hard and his whole face closes off. The king jumped to his feet a tornado of movement and golden fabric dancing in the colorful lights.

“Ah! They did arrive and will stay here for the foreseeable future since their greedy ruler refused my offer! Twice now, once from his grandfather blinded by his own greed and once again from his clueless grand-child have I been refused the price for my kingdom’s help!” The elf king whirled around his face hard with anger, he did seem to get his anger back under control when his eyes landed on the duo looking up at him. With a deep sigh, the taller elf draped himself on the sofa armrest, trying to keep his temper under control.

“When my wife left, I visited the dwarven king Thrór, for negotiation but also to take possession of a white gems necklace I had commission for her to celebrate our heir…your birth Legolas. But the price of our help was denied by their greed blind king and I returned to Mirkwood to the news of my wife death and my heir disappearance…and possible death.” The grey eyes now filled with a dark storm of hatred and contempt moved to stare out the window. “I sent more than half of my army to search for her and our young one, I had hoped that if she was to be lost to me, maybe a trace of her might still live in you. When the great dragon Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountains and the dwarves came to me for help, I did march forward to help…”

Once again moving to his feet, the elven king, started pacing unable to stay still. “More than half of my army was sent to search high and low for any trace of their queen across the Middle Earth, hunting orcs and looking for any trace of my lost heir. And here were the dwarves that had denied my request once again to hand over the white gem necklace I had requested for my fallen wife, asking me to sacrifice the soldier I had left to save their kin and kingdom.”

“So you refused.” Legolas said more of a statement than a question.

“So I retreated back to Mirkwood and choose my people’s life over the dwarves…yes.” The two elf exchanged a long look. “I had already lost my ithil and the heir we had long awaited, I choose not to lose any more on that day and I’ve never regretted that decision.”

Having the other side of the story, Legolas could see that where Thorin had seen betrayal, the elven king had chosen the elves he ruled over and was sworn to protect. Thranduil before all else was the ruler of Mirkwood, he had made a decision based on grief, but also to keep his kingdom safe. Legolas could not fault the king for his choices and from the look on his father face, the hobbit couldn’t either.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” The hobbit said softly, it was a line from one of the books the hobbit had enjoyed reading and had read many times to the young ones when Legolas was growing up. “You made the best decision you could at the time for the ones under your care.”

“Yes…yes, and the new dwarf king made his own choice when he refused my request just like his predecessor…all the branches of his family tree are struck with greed sickness.”  There was clear loathing in the king’s statement. Legolas did wonder why Thorin would not take a deal if it meant freedom for himself and his brethren. From the slight frown on the hobbit face next to him, the smaller being was also pondering the lonely mountain king stubbornness. But they could not push on this subject since they were not supposed to have any affiliation to the dwarves.

“Let’s leave behind those heavy subject that should not concern you!” Thranduil said waving his hand in the air like he was trying to erase the memories of the past and his face relaxed looking at them. “I only wish to know you…both, better and I hope you accept my hospitality.”

“It would be our pleasure! I’m sure Caranthir will be happy to host us and…”

“No.” The young elf saw a flash of something he could not quite pinpoint come across the older being face. “A room will be prepared for both of you.”

“I’m sure…” The hobbit started.

“Next to mine.” Thranduil cut-in, his tone definitive. 

“I don’t…”

“I truly insist.”

“I…”

“Truly, as the ruler of this kingdom it is my duty.”

“…very well, I won’t argue your generosity.” The hobbit conceded seeing that he would not win this one.

“You will also be guests of honor at our celebration, Mereth e-n Gilith the feast of Starlight.” The hobbit opened his mouth to argue but a look from the king had him close it again quickly. “Once again as your host I insist.”

Legolas was sitting back looking from one to the other with interest. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the elven king or Mirkwood, but he could see the way Thranduil was looking at his father with great interest. The taller elf seemed very adamant for the both of them to feel welcome and at home into the woodland kingdom. Wanting to verify one thing, the young elf leaned forward, focusing on the king’s face to see any emotions he would leak.

“Was my mother your heart-song?” He caught a small almost invisible widening of the eyes and the quick furtive look the older being shoot toward the hobbit.

“How do you know of this? It is not a well-known term outside of elven education.”

“Caranthir told us of the heart-songs of elf.” At the mention of Caranthir something once again flashed in the stormy eyes.

“No, she was not.” Thranduil voice was soft, almost like it hurt him to admit it. “It is very rare for an elf to find his heart-song…a true gift.”

Once again the king eyes moved to the hobbit and his grey eyes full of storm seemed to settled into a calm rainy day sky that almost gave the hope of a rainbow. “We choose each other for love and respect and I truly did carry her in my heart. She bore the weight of her crown proudly and was a pillar of strength in my life and for all the elves in our kingdom.”

Legolas nodded slowly, he did not doubt for even a moment that Thranduil had truly loved his mother. But it did confirm his belief that his father was in fact, most probably, the king’s heart-song. The smaller being seemed completely oblivious to the way the tall elf keep glancing at him, his gaze softening the moment he as looking at the hobbit.

The young elf wasn’t sure how he felt about that fact at the moment. He would need to see how the woodland king choose to court the hobbit. From the connection he shared with the smaller being who had raised him, he could feel that the king’s attentions were not going unnoticed, but then again his father had always had a weakness for beauty. It could simply be admiration and nothing more. He would certainly not help Thranduil in his endeavor until he himself knew how he felt about the elf responsible for his life.

He could however not ignore the advantage this presented for him. Legolas had never been fond of the dark haired elf, mostly because of his impossibility to commit to his father. Caranthir was a dreamer, an elf completely devoted to the idea of finding his heart-song, which he had and it was clearly the biggest joy his life. But to Legolas it had also meant that his father would not have a lifelong companion that would actually be fully devoted to the hobbit and that was to put it simply, unacceptable. His father had had some, flings, the hobbit being an easy flirt and absolutely charming to everyone around him. But the young elf wanted for his father to have a partner that would be completely devoted to the smaller being happiness and if at all possible, is safety. With the possibility of having an elf king as his partner, being Legolas birth father was also a plus, that would most likely be completely obsess with the hobbit and make sure he would never feel lonely, the young elf could, maybe, possibly, accept this union.

It was in his opinion no less than what his father deserved.

+++++

Much later, after spending most of the day in the king’s study exchanging stories of Legolas growing up in the Shire for stories of his son mother life in Mirkwood. The hobbit slipped on the ring and snuck out of the room they had been given…that was right across the king’s room! But he would ponder about that fact at a later time.

He made his way down following the instructions Caranthir had given him the night before, to find where the dwarves were being kept. He had to stop on his way to Thorin’s jail cell, the path to narrow for him to avoid the tall red haired elven lass that was standing in front of Kili’s cell door. He sat in the stairs, listening to their conversation…or maybe more listening to their flirting. From the looks they were exchanging and the tones of their voice, they were each very interested in the other. It was kind of cute really and a small smile played on the hobbit face as he watched hand on his knees like it was a great romantic play and he was their sole audience.

When the lass, Tauriel from what he had heard, sat down next to Kili’s door freeing a small passage for the hobbit, he chose to stop his spying and moved on looking for Thorin. In the last cell at the bottom and far enough from the elven guards, Bilbo removed his ring and tapped on the bar lightly getting the dwarf king attention.

“BILBO!” The hobbit quickly waved his hands shushing the too loud dwarf. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think? Trying to find a way to get you out.”

“you could free us now and…”

“And what? There’s guards everywhere and no exit plan.” The hobbit rolled his eyes. “Let me find a way to get all of you out safely, I just need a bit more time.”

“Time? How will you hide from the elves for so long?”

“Oh no I’m a guest here, I can move around without issues.”

“A guest? How…?” Thorin’s voice trailed off and his eyes widen slightly. Just as Bilbo had guessed, the dwarf king had known or at least had had an idea about Legolas origins.

“So he is a Mirkwood elf after all.” It sounded like such an insult from the dwarf and Bilbo answered with a glare.

“If I hadn’t promised to help you and didn’t like your nephews so much I swear I’d let you rot in here for a while to reflect on that tone of voice.” Bilbo sighed at the chastised look on Thorin’s face. “A warning would have been appreciated Thorin. Even if you weren’t sure.”

“Thranduil is a rotten coward who lack honor! I would not trust Thranduil, but I do trust Legolas…I truly do hobbit.” There was much anger in the king’s voice when it came to Thranduil and Bilbo decided that this was not the time to start a fight.

“Did he offer you a deal?” Bilbo mostly wanted to know if the elf had been truthful when mentioning the offer to Thorin for their release.

“He did.” Thorin’s voice grew dark again. “I told him he could go îsh kakhfê ai'd dur-rugnu!”

Bilbo caught the grimace on the older dwarf that was in the next cell, Balin shaking his head at the hobbit and refusing to translate, which most likely meant he indeed did not want to know the meaning of the dwarven insult.

“Lovely, truly lovely.” Thorin opened his mouth ready to reply but the hobbit held out his and hushed him again. “I’ll find some way to get you all out of here as fast as possible…if you could in the meantime not antagonize the elf any further it would be truly appreciated.”

“They…”

“Not the time or the place to argue, please remember the trust you have in me AND my son. I’ll find a way.” The dwarf king nodded with a huff.

“Thank you lad.” Balin said in a hush voice when Bilbo passed his cell. The hobbit quickly squeezed the holder dwarf arm and moved out of sight to slip the ring back on.

He moved slowly up the stairs and once again had to careful step around the red haired elf that was still sitting by Kili’s cell. They truly were adorable and Thorin might actually kill his nephew if he ever found out about this. The hobbit however could see an alliance opportunity, if he could ever get the two kings to see eye to eye on anything…or even to stay in the same room without being at each other’s throat.

Walking back toward, his room, he saw guards rolling out heavy looking wooden barrels from a large staircase that seem to lead to a room below the woodland kingdom. Curious, he waited for the guards to walk away and went down the stairs. There he saw the wine barrels line up to be brought upstairs, most likely for the feast of Starlight that would take place the next night. He watched for a little while and noticed that some old empty barrels were being pushed onto a platform that flipped opened from the weight of the accumulated empty barrel when a lever was pushed and revealed a rushing river below carrying away the used barrels.

From the looks of all the full barrels being taken upstairs, once the festivities would be over, there would be more than enough empty wooden barrels to host all the dwarves currently residing in the dungeons. Waiting on the guards to be done with their task, the hobbit made his way back to his room to discuss his plan with his son

Chapter Text

+++++ Thranduil POV +++++

The moment the door from the room right across from his was closed, the older elf removed his hand from the handle of his own room and turned around running down the long corridors. He did not care for the confused looks of the elves that passed by him, his focus on one very important task. His mind was still railing from all that had happened but he needed to reach his destination as soon as possible to quench his need for the answers that had been plaguing his mind since his gaze had landed on the small being. Reaching the well-known heavy doors, he pushed them open and entered the woodland kingdom grand library.

« BOOKKEEPER! BOOKKEEPER! » His thunder filled voice resonated in between the rows of books and across the long circular stairs that led to the second floor. After a long moment of silence an elf with heavy grey braids peeked over a corner with raised eyebrows.

« My king? To what do I owe this late night visit? »

« I seek knowledge! Give me all the books you have about Hobbits! » Thranduil voice was firm and very serious.

« Hobbits my king? » The grey haired bookkeeper frowned thinking deeply. « Those small creatures living in the…Shire, I do believe that’s what they call their home. » 

« Yes! I need all the books you have with even the smallest mention of hobbits. » 

« ….very well, just a moment. » The bookkeeper did give a long questioning to the lord of the woodland kingdom, but didn’t date questioned his request. Thranduil waved him away and sat himself in one of the many chairs of the library, legs crossed as the pondered his fate while he waited.

He never, not for one moment, thought he would ever meet his heart-song. Not that he hadn’t believed in the possibility, but for the Lord of Mirkwood who never left his kingdom and was known to be a recluse after the death of his wife, he had thought that if it hadn’t happened in his youthful travels or after his time in the woodland kingdom it would simply not happen in this lifetime. He had made peace with that fact, peace with a life without a life partner, without anyone ever filling the empty space in his heart after the death of his queen. Thranduil had made his choices, he was the king and ruler of Mirkwood and his occupants, he would be their protector and put his responsibility above the foolish pursuit of love. That was what a true king should do, he had married, happily, to a wonderful queen that cared for his kingdom just as much as him. They had had a happy union and had tried for years to start a family and birth an heir that would hopefully take over after their death. It had all be planned and the king had been sure nothing would ever deviate the life course they had chosen.

When disaster had struck, all of his beliefs and foundations had crumbled. He had lost his queen, his ruling partner and the only being who had understood the weight and burden of his crown. Losing his heir at the same time, the babe he had been looking forward to welcome in his life had been the final blow. He had shut down the doors of his kingdom and the doors to his heart. He would still protect and serve his people, but for all he cared, the rest of the world could burn to ashes as long as Mirkwood stood untouched above the ashes. He had pushed down the majority of his emotions, keeping from any emotional attachment and even placing a wall between the two lass he had loved like his own daughters. He still cared for them and wished only the best for them both, but he now saw them more like favored nieces. He had been pleased when Sylviana, who he knew craved familial ties, found her heart-song and elated when she had announced her pregnancy. Of the two sisters he had always considered the younger sister as an acceptable replacement for the throne. As much as hated to admit it the youngest of the two sister was the smartest and most ruthless of the two. Tauriel was too softhearted and too much of an idealist to ever be able to make the hard decisions that came with the crown. The older sister was an amazing leader to the soldiers and a true warrior, but Mirkwood would never allowed her to climb the stairs to the throne. Now however with the return of his true heir, more possibilities were opening and he would need to have a serious talk with Legolas at some point about his future. 

The thought of his heir brought back the other possibility that had come crashing into the king’s life. The hobbit, the adorable, little being that had filled his very being with his sweet song. The moment his eyes had locked with the hobbits soft green eyes; the ruler’s head had been filled with that enchanting song that resonated into his very bones when he was close to the smaller being. 

It was such a joyous, soft and soothing melody. Thranduil could hear a flute with dancing notes, brightening his dark grey world, the instrument fitting the playful hobbit and a melancholic harp melody mixing with the flute to create a song so uniquely enchanting. It was an uplifting melody, but with a touch of sorrow and it wrapped itself around his heart and reminded him what joy felt like. It was as if the melody was awakening new emotions into the older being every time he heard it. How he wished he could have stayed by the hobbit side to keep on hearing the smaller being mesmerizing heart chorus. 

The king was pulled from his reverie by the sound of a pile of books being placed on the table next to him. He looked over and was disappointed to only see twelve leather bound books. “Is that all? Does this library not have many sections and shelves filled with all histories and species?”

“I’m sorry my king, but the subject of hobbits is seldom studied…they are quiet creatures, peaceful and not drawn to war. There’s not much to tell or write about.” The bookkeeper said with a shrug.

“Unacceptable! Look for more and if there’s not more, send a messenger to find more.” Without waiting for a reply, the older elf took the books and walked out of the library with his research.

Throwing his robe to the floor as soon as he entered his room, the king lit up some candles and started pouring over the books he had been given. He read every line, every little scrap of information he could find in the books until he realized it had become much easier to read due to the change of lighting. Looking up, he could see on the horizon the sun going up on a new day, he had spent the whole night with his nose in books and felt like he had little information to go by. Closing le last book, he placed it aside going over what he had garnered. Walking around the room, he changed and had to stop multiple times, to walk over to his desk adding notes to his to do list. He would need to make changes, maybe create new laws, but he could make his kingdom a welcoming place for the hobbit.

Gathering the papers, he walked out and was surprise to see Legolas leaning on the door across from him discussing with Sylviana. They both stopped talking at his arrival and the small ginger bowed to him in greeting, his heir simply gave a little nod.

“Sylviana, good morning, could you take these notes and start working on the instructions written down?” The little elf skipped over to him and took the papers rapidly scanning them with her bright blue eyes. Her whole face brightened when she landed on plans for a terrace garden. It was written in multiple books that hobbit’s loved nature and gardening; he would therefore need the biggest garden he could possibly build to make sure the smaller being was happy.

“When I asked for a garden…” The king gave her a long look down his nose and she hide her giggle behind the papers.

“Also, please advise the Captain that he will be on spider’s nest andextermination duty for the foreseeable future. I do not want to see ONE spider shadow in my woods by the end of the month.”

“But…”

“The spiders have grown to bold and I will no longer tolerate their presence. He should also tend to the path to Mirkwood and have the bridge rebuild.” Thranduil pointed to Legolas bandaged arm that was now visible, but hadn’t been the night before. “Did you think I would not recognize the smell of spider bite antidote, which tells me our honor guests were attacked on their way here and that.is.not.acceptable.”

“But why Caranthir, the soldiers can…” Another long look was given.

“I could find another punishment if this one doesn’t seem fair enough to you? I was trying to keep him close as a consideration to you and your current state.” The king said glancing at the small elf swollen stomach. “Banishment did seem appropriate to the crime of deceiving his king and withholding information…”

“NO!...no. You are a wise ruler and your punishment is just and fair. I’ll send the orders.” Sylviana gave another bow and scurried away, clearly afraid he would change his mind.

Both blond elf watched her move down the corridor, before turning to study each other. “My father is still sleeping, he had a rough time the last couple of days and needs the rest.”

Legolas volunteered the information to the silent question in the king’s eyes. Thranduil motioned toward the opposite side of the corridor and the young elf nodded falling into step next to him. They walked in silence, but he had an inkling that the young elf had some reason to be up this early and wanted to speak to him one on one before the hobbits would awaken. They entered a large dining room with one of the walls being fully opened with a view of the forest bellow and the rising sun. The light of the sun was illuminating a long table with at least forty chairs. Thranduil moved to the chair at the head of the table and motioned for the young elf to sit to his left. He did take a mental note that he would need to order one of his wordsmiths to build a chair for the hobbit to be comfortable at the high table. Elves entered from a side door bringing a myriad of dishes and vanished from the same door once the table was full of different dishes for them to enjoy.

“You wanted to talk?” Thranduil asked looking at his heir picking his food with a frown on his face. He did so look like his mother.

“Maybe.” Legolas said finally choosing a piece of fruit that he chewed slowly looking directly at the older being. This attitude, the king had no idea where it came from, probably the hobbit…so it wasn’t an issue, just an endearing trait.

“By all means, ask what you want.”

“Are you expecting me to stay here and take over your throne?” Legolas asked voice serious, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“Hummm.” Thranduil leaned back studying the young elf. “I haven’t made a definitive judgement on that point. While you are more than welcome to stay here and learn of your kingdom history, I would not force it on you. It would be my preference that you both stayed here if I’m to be truthful on the subject.”

“What if I wanted nothing to do with the crown?”

“I do not even know yet if you are fit to rule, why would I expect you to take the crown? Once I make judgement of your character…maybe. You are my heir and your mother son after all, I do not think you would be inept, but rulers of elven kingdoms are born to rule not chosen. I was not born here, but in Doriath, but I was chosen to rule Mirkwood when I arrived in the woodland kingdom. If you wish to prove yourself and learn to rule, I would of course welcome it.”

Legolas nodded slowly mulling over the information. “What would my father title be, if he chose to stay with me…consort or queen?”

Cheeky little elf! Thranduil truly wanted to be surprised that the young elf had already notice the king’s slight obsession with the hobbit and the fact that the smaller being was his heart-song, but really he already knew the elf was a smart one. “Whatever title he would do me the pleasure to accept.”

“I won’t help…or interfere. I want the decision to be his and his alone.” The young elf made a point of it, staring the king down. His heir was a born ruler, still with some flaws, but he could be taught.

“I understand.”

“Good.” Legolas nodded popping a blueberry in his mouth. “Is there a training ground somewhere? I would love to see the knights training!”

At the excitement in the young elf voice, he smiled and nodded waving his hand in the air. An elf was at his side in the next moment. “Call for Tauriel, she must be on her way for morning training and can be his guide for the day.”

“Yes my lord.” The elf turned away and was gone from the room just as fast as he had entered it.

“Tauriel is Sylviana sister’s and also one of my beast archer. She is also very opinionated and strong willed…but I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you.” He said looking at the young elf.

“No, I was actually looking forward to meeting my new cousin.”

“Cousin?” Thranduil asked now curious.

“Oh! Sylviana informed us of her lineage…in a letter!” The last words were added quickly, but the young elf keep going. “They have some hobbit in them, Took to be more precise and my father is a Baggins-Took. In the Shire they would be considered cousins of our family.”

That actually pleased the king greatly, if his heir and the hobbit had family ties in Mirkwood, it would certainly help acclimatized them to the possibility of living in the elven kingdom. He wanted to ask more, but the door to the dining room were pushed opened and Tauriel leaned forward popping her head inside.

“You wanted to see me my king?” Her gaze landed on Legolas who was waving at her and she waved back with a smile.

“Are you Legolas? The elf from the Shire my sister told me about?”

“That would indeed be me! Good day cousin!” The young elf moved to his feet and walked over to the ginger lass. She was holding out her hand in greeting, but instead got a handful of elf, when Legolas simply hugged her in greeting.

“OH! Not from here indeed!” She was smiling and hugged back. Thranduil knew the two sisters were more physical than most elf and was pleased to see the same characteristic in his heir. “Good day to you too cousin!”

They parted smiling at each other. “Tauriel would you be so kind as to act as a guide for Legolas and bring him with you to the morning training?”

She seemed surprised, looking the young frail looking elf up and down. He could understand her confusion in a sense, the young elf didn’t not look like much of a warrior and was actually quite short compare to most knights, but he had been the same at that age and knew looks could be deceiving. “I won’t go easy on you cousin.”

“I didn’t ask you too.” Legolas replied with a mischievous smile, that was also probably a hobbit trait. “Maybe you’ll be the one who can’t keep up.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” The lass said her face serious, but the ruler could see a twinkle in her eyes, she was enjoying this banter.

“It might be.”

“Follow me so I can make you regret those words.” The ginger elf pointed at the blond elf face in challenge and turned around expecting him to follow. With a wink to the king, Legolas did exactly that and the king could hear the two young elf bickering back and forth in the corridor until the door closed hushing the sound of their voice. He had never expected to have a shy son, but this was a complete surprise. The young elf truly was a menace and it made Thranduil smile to think that this was also the hobbit influence at work.

After leaving the dining room, Thranduil passed by his room, once again, he was hoping to get a glimpse of the hobbit, but the door was still close and the two guards he had requested at the door shocked their head. The smaller being was still resting. He entered his room and chose a white tunic with bronze accent and a green robe (not because it reminded him of the hobbits eyes or because he had suddenly grown a fondness for the color), with a pair of comfortable brown leather boots. He chose one of his simpler crown, a delicate little bronze circlet with a green jewel and a pearl nestle together in its center…he should order a matching one for the hobbit…actually all his crowns should have their match, he would need to speak to the jeweler and crown maker. He jotted down the note on a parchment paper on his desk and left to go to his study.

The doors to his study were wide open, with elves bringing all kind of sample size food and filling the table in between the two sofa’s with stacks of plates. Good, Sylviana was going over her tasks as efficiently as usual, she truly was the perfect aid to keep his schedule on track. He nodded to the elves and went to his desk pulling over the work that needed to be completed for the day. Some documents were requiring his signatures and others simply needed his approval. He dreaded how much more work would be needed when he officially would announce that the woodland kingdom would open its doors to visitors once again. He would have been happy to keep them firmly closed, but he had read just last night that hobbits were social being, who loves parties and celebrations and place a lot of importance on family. Thranduil was happy that he hobbit had found cousins in Mirkwood, but he also knew from their conversation last night that the hobbit and the young elf had family in the Shire and would most likely either need to go visit them or invite them here. In both case it meant he need to re-establish relations with the outside world. He was going over some letters he would send to the other elven kingdoms when he heard a soft knock on the doors. He had a feeling he knew who it was and was on his feet the next moment to open the door himself…he would have usually just yelled at whoever was on the other side, but if he was correct he didn’t want to make a bad impression. He opened the door carefully and was rewarded when gorgeous green eyes looking up at him and the heart melody wrapped itself around him.

“Good day Master Baggins, what can I do for you?” The hobbit glanced at the two guards behind him.

“They said you wanted to see me?”

“Ah yes! Please come in.” He had actually ordered the guards to bring the hobbit to him the moment he stepped out of the room. He dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand, but then though of another item on his list. “Tell Sylviana she can start working on number eight.”

Thranduil turned around to see the hobbit hovering over the food with a hungry look in his eyes. He moved forward and grabbed an empty place he had left on his desk and offered it to the smaller being with a smile.

“Please be my guest, they are samples for the feast tonight that I’ve approved, take whatever you want.” Bilbo took the plate happily and smiled up at the elf. The king had to intertwine his fingers behind his back not to grab the hobbit’s face and kiss that adorable smile.

“Thank you! I was starving.”

“My pleasure master Baggins, I….”

“Bilbo, please call me Bilbo, we share a son after all.” Yes.they.did. And wasn’t that a pure blessing that they already had a son to share.

“My pleasure Bilbo, please feel free to eat and rest in this room for as long as you need, I do enjoy the company while I work.” The hobbit nodded and Thranduil went back to sitting at his desk not trusting himself to stay still next to the adorable being. He usually enjoyed having the study to himself, but just having the hobbit presence was a nice addition that he could get used too. Maybe he could add a desk to the room or build a reading nook for the hobbit?

He had read, in multiple books, that hobbits ate from six to seven meals a day. The list was quite impressive, breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner and supper. Elves were not the most food obsess being, but at the very least Mirkwood elves did enjoy food more than most. He knew Rivendell elves survived mostly on greens and lembas bread. But his kingdom enjoyed, tea, wine and variety of meals based on plants and fish from the river below. While the hobbit was busy going over the food, Thranduil took note of all the dishes that caught the hobbit’s eyes. He wrote down everything that the smaller being ate and his reactions to each bites. The chef would want a detail list of all the smaller being like and dislike to prepare the needed dish to serve to him, it would also be a nice challenge for the woodland kingdom chef. He would need to make sure the kitchen would make food that suited the hobbit’s taste and that they developed a menu for all seven meals needed for a hobbit to be happy...which reminded him.

“I seem to remember that hobbits have multiple meals a day, was Legolas raised that way?” If his heir was also used to this diet it would be a good excuse to have family bonding time over meals.

“Ah! Yes, he’s a good eater, always made me very proud at the table.” A fond smile touched the hobbit lips and once again the king had to make himself stay seated and away from the desirable being. “He’s also a very good hunter, my pantry was always full of cured or dried meat for the upcoming winter season.”

“Interesting…I haven’t hunted in quite a long time, but if he enjoys it, I would be tempted to offer him some hunting time, so we can bond, what do you think?”

“He would probably love it! I’m not much of a hunter and his hobbit cousin couldn’t always keep up with him. I’m sure spending some time together would be good for the both of you.” The hobbit said, his plate was full and he had made himself comfortable on one of the sofa.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you for the idea, I do wish to find some activities to do with Legolas to learn more about him.” Bilbo gave him a warm appreciative look that had the elf feeling heat rising to his ears.

“That is lovely!” No the hobbit was lovely! Were all hobbits this small and adorable and lovely and…he looked away and pull more paper toward him the take more notes.

They feel into comfortable silence, the hobbit enjoying his meal and some tea, while Thranduil was going over his official papers and hobbit’s note. A firm knock came from the door and before the king could say anything, the door was swung opened and Sylviana, a tornado of ginger and green, walked in

“Good day cousin! I need some measurements from you, could you please stand here?”  She had a measuring tape wrapped around her shoulder, a feather quill behind her ear and a small pad of paper in her hand. At her commanding tone, the hobbit was on his feet and standing before her the moment she was done speaking. 

“Good day to you to cousin…what is this for?” She was walking around the hobbit taking measurements and noting them down quickly.

“Your outfit for tonight’s feast, we don’t have time to create one from nothing, but we found some options to alter to your measurements that should easily be ready for tonight! I’ve already tracked down Legolas for his.”   

“Oh! I don’t think that’s necessary.” The hobbit started, but the king moved to get closer and reassure him.

“It won’t be anything to extravagant I swear.” I minor lie. “But as guest of honors I do insist that both of you be dressed accordingly.”

“If you insist?” Green eyes looked up…those soft curls would truly look lovely with a crown decorating them.

“I truly do.” Thranduil said his voice firm and he caught the knowing smile on the ginger elf face looking at him over the hobbit’s head. She winked at him, took down her needed information’s and was out of the study in no time.

“The Took in her truly shows, Took lass are all tornadoes with strong personalities. Lovely tornadoes, but their strong personalities are not to be played with.”  There was fondness in the hobbit voice.

Thranduil did wonder if maybe the hobbit had a preference for the fairer sex. He had not read anything about it in his books on that subject and knew most species usually had a preference of male and female coupling. Elf didn’t really care, unless it was a personal preference, with their long life, male or female partners didn’t hold much importance. He himself in his long life had been with both and had always placed more importance in the compatibility his lovers had with him than on their gender. That his heart-song be an absolutely adorable being, with lovely green eyes, soft chestnut curls, round pointy kissable ears and a soft looking body that he longed to touch, was more than enough for him.

“Did you leave someone behind in the Shire that is waiting for your return?” Thranduil asked lightly. He had moved to look over some books on his shelves, but his full attention was on the hobbit answer.

“No…no, only family really, I’ve always been more of a bachelor back home…well with the exception of the time Caranthir spent with us, but I’m happier with our current friendship, he’s much better off with his wife than with an old hobbit.” The hobbit giggled, but if murderous desires could have a face painted on canvas and immortalized for all to see it would have been the elf king face at this very moment. He had to breath and remembered that this was the past and that he could easily erase any trace or memories of the dark haired elf from the hobbits mind once he would get that smaller being under him. He was also rethinking the idea of banishing the Captain from the woodland kingdom, but pushed down the desire knowing it wasn’t logical and fully sentimental.

“You’re not old Bilbo, if you were an elf you would still be consider quite young. Plus…” Thranduil walked over taking the hobbit chin between his fingers and lifted his head gently to look into his eyes. “To me you look quite charming.”

“oh…” The hobbit cheeks turned a lovely pink color and those long eyelashes fluttered over wide green eyes. If he just leaned a little more forward he could just taste those soft looking pink lips and….

“My king!” Sylviana was back and froze when she caught the glare Thranduil was giving her over the hobbit’s head. Bilbo had jumped and turned around at the sound slipping from the king’s grasp. “I’m sorry for interrupting, Legolas was looking for his father.”

“Where is he? I haven’t seen him since I woke up?” The hobbit asked walking toward the ginger elf.

“The training ground! He did the knights training this morning and wanted to know if you would watch his sword training with my sister, Tauriel.” Sylviana was looking from the king who was leaning on the bookshelf hands on his face and the hobbit facing her with a smile.

“I would love too!”

 “Lead the way.” Thranduil said pushing himself from the bookshelf and moving to the hobbit side. He was not happy with the small elf timing, but he was also curious to see his heir knowledge in sword fighting.

They walked down the corridor and Sylviana skipped to his side murmuring under her breath a small. “sorry.” He waved it off and allowed her to move back to the smaller being side chattering happily. They reached the training ground and saw Legolas standing his ground against Tauriel. The young elf face was serious, his attention on the other elf and he was doing a good job at anticipating her attacks. His attention slip however for a moment when he noticed the hobbit coming his way and Tauriel pounced knocking him to the ground.

“You need to pay attention! If this was a real battle you would be dead!” Tauriel voice was commanding.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry, again?” Legolas lifted his sword up, but Thranduil held his hand and all the soldiers stopped moving, turning to him and bowed.

“GREETING TO THE LORD OF MIRKWOOD!”

“How about sparring with me?” The king asked staring at the young elf. He could see that sword might not be his strongest point, but from the way he held the sword and fought it would only be a matter of time before Legolas would become a master of the sword just like him. The potential was there.

Legolas immediately agreed, the young elf did take a moment to walk over and greet his small father, before he was back in the middle of the fighting space reserved for sword practice. He was jumping from one foot to the other, stretching waiting for the king to be done choosing his sword.

The king took his time, weighting the practice swords until one of them felt right, he looked over and stopped waving an elf over to give some soldiers his orders. He waited until he saw them carry over a small tent to place over the hobbit, the sun was quite harsh that day and he didn’t want the smaller being to burn. But he also wanted him to stay and watch him fight, wanting to show off of sword prowess to his heart-song. Chairs and refreshment were also brought for Bilbo and Sylviana. Happy with the little set-up and confident that they were both far away enough to not be caught in the fighting, Thranduil moved to face his heir.

He had chosen two swords and was twirling them around getting used to the weight of them. Legolas was studying him, a slight frown on his face. Thranduil smiled, he was after all a master of swordplay and knew his unique way of fighting with two long twin swords wasn’t a usual fighting style. But he had learned over the years and had developed his own style, more refined, relying on his own elven strength and agility, his approach was efficient and focus, with less elaborated movements, unlike what most elves learned when being tough how to use a sword. He had owned his style on the battlefield and was still to this day, undefeated.

Legolas charged forward and in two hits, his sword went flying in the air and one of the king sword was at his throat, the other resting against a major artery on his leg ready to slice it open. He winked at the young elf and moved back letting him retrieved his sword. The young elf wasn’t bad, he was studying the king’s movement with every attack, but always after two hits, the sword was gone from his hands. Thranduil was enjoying himself greatly, moving with the younger elf, following his movements. Legolas definitely didn’t have the same graceful movement as him, but he was adjusting, moving more fluidly, changing his attacks while trying to keep up with the king’s double attach and defense. The king’s robe was following his movements, dancing around his legs, to him it was like a dance, well known steps, learned during war times.

The young elf picked up his sword once again, it had already been multiple attempts, but there was a smile on the blond elf face and he was avidly taking any pointers the king’s deign to give him. His form was getting better with each attacks and finally it took four hits from the older elf before he was disarmed.  Legolas laughed in victory and feel to the ground huffing, tired. The king chanced a look at the tent, finding the hobbit looking at the both of them, his eyes filled with admiration. The hobbit had his hands clasped together in excitement, his eyes shining looking at both elves. Thranduil almost wanted to puff his chest in pride, but settled for a deep bow toward his audience, flipping his air when he stood back up.

“You learn quick…that’s good.” Thranduil said offering his hand to his heir to bring him back to his feet.

“Can you teach me to fight like you?” Legolas gaze was filled with hunger, the young elf wanted to learn and it pleased the king greatly.

“How was he with the bow, lance and axe?” The king asked Tauriel, she was surrounded by all the knights who had come to watch the dual.

“He’s excellent with the bow, a natural really, lance and axe need to be worked on, but he didn’t have any training with those weapons before.” She recited firmly.

“Humm, very well.” He turned back to his heir. “If you can master the lance and axe and defeat Tauriel, I’ll teach you.”

“DEAL!” The young elf immediately agreed. If his heir truly mastered all the weapons and his fighting technique, Thranduil had no doubt that if the young elf was ever called to fight in the future he would be able to take down an army by himself.

They spent the rest of the day on the training ground, the king moving from the tent to be closed to the hobbit, to the young elf side helping him with postures and grips. At some point, the older elf looked up and saw the tent was now empty. Looking around with a frown he could not locate the hobbit, Tauriel moved to his side smiling.

“He left with Sylviana for a fitting.” She informed him.

Thranduil nodded relieved and turned back to his heir now twirling around a lance and practicing his attacks. When the sun started to go down, Legolas was called for his own fitting and Thranduil follow him.

“You learn fast that’s good, you’ve made good progress today.”

“Really?” Legolas seemed surprised.

“Yes, your grip was better and your attacks more focus.”

“Thank you!” The young elf was all smile. Some young lass came to pick up Legolas and bring him to a fitting room.

Thranduil watched them walk away with a soft smile on his lips. He had always wanted this, this kind of relationship, this mentorship that he could offer his descendant. His heir was a true fighter, would probably be a sword master just like him one day and it warm his heart that he could be the one to step in and teach him. He was lost in his thought and walked back to his own room, noticing at the last moment that the room the hobbit occupied had its doors opened. Curious, he walked over and peeked inside.

At the vision inside, the king had to ball his hands into fist not to walk-in and grabbed the smaller being. He turned his head to fast and banged his head on one of the doors startling the occupants inside the room. Bilbo, Sylviana and one of the seamstress all turned at the same time when they heard the bang and the pain filled groan that escaped him.

“…my king?” Sylviana asked in a small voice and he could hear the repressed laughter in her voice.

“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked, true concern in his voice, but he couldn’t move from the stool he had been placed on while the seamstress worked.

“Yes…yes, do not worry, I’m sorry for disturbing your work, please go on.” But still, Thranduil stood for a moment taking in the sight before him.

Bathed in the light of the setting sun, the light was reflected in perfectly coiffed chestnut curls, where a small wooden circlet crown with glistening red leaves weave into it was nestled. The hobbit was draped in luxurious, soft looking embroidered dark green fabric beaded with white pearls, it fell perfectly all over his small body and over his shoulder giving him a light cape that would move with him. Fitted embroidered pants, a rich brown color tied the outfit together, hugging the smaller being form perfectly, with small jewelry with red accent peaking from around his neck and ankles, to complete the look. Bilbo in regular clothes was a vision of loveliness, but draped in luxury and soft fabric he was a piece of art.  

He had to turn away and walk into his room, before he decided that the hobbit should not be shown to anyone and that he should just spend the whole night in Thanduil room…actually it wasn’t such a bad idea. The elf almost turned around, but the caught sight of his own feast outfit waiting for him in his room, a perfect match to the hobbit’s outfit. With a sigh he relented, getting to parade his heat-song on his arm the whole night would be, for now, enough to satisfy his obsessive heart.