Chapter Text
Minas Tirith was truly a sight to behold, Kili could recognise that well enough. The great white stone gates, the towering spires and even the dead tree in the courtyard, all of it seemed like something out of a history book, a place of greatness, once upon a time. It was not a place he would have chosen to go, had he any other choice, however. In fact, beauty aside he found that he was rather unimpressed with the ‘Great city of Men’, and their treatment of Dwarves in particular. But it was irrelevant at the end of the day. He was not there to make friends, he was there to find a wizard, and a wizard he found.
“Gandalf.”
The wizard lifted his eyes from the ancient tome and regarded the Dwarf standing before him. Slowly but surely a smile broke across his face, “Kili,” he murmured in fond greeting before his brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright? Is it Thorin?”
Kili stood still as he stared at the wizard. It had taken Kili months to get there. Months of grieving, suspicion, whispers, travelling and pain to get to that forsaken library.
He’d done it alone, the journey itself, at least. He’d left under the cover of darkness, against the wishes of his brother and without the knowledge of his King.
Part of him wanted to shout at the old man, to curse Gandalf and the very day they met. He was not a hateful being by nature, but he found that there was more than a little animosity that he held toward Gandalf. The other (more rational) part desperately needed answers and so instead of doing the former he simply asked a single question.
“Where is Bilbo Baggins?”
xxxxx
The Shire had always been her home. She loved it, everything about it, from the green rolling hills, to the flowers that bloomed in summer and the way that the early morning mists crept over the grass on autumn mornings. She loved Bag End and she loved being around other Hobbits (Sackville-Bagginses not withstanding). Life was quiet but it was simple and easy and comforting. The Shire was her home, she would always be welcome there by her family and friends, no matter how many adventures she went on or how ‘eccentric’ she became. There were days where Bilbo contemplated spending the rest of her life in her Hobbit hole and, to be honest, there were worse ways to live out her days.
But while she loved the Shire, her heart had grown restless. She wanted to travel, there was still so much of Middle Earth to explore.
But more than that, she was not the same Hobbit that had left Bag End. She couldn’t just settle back into her old life as if she hadn’t faced down orcs and dragons and spiders and trolls and everything else that wanted to kill her. It wasn’t just her battle scars either, being in Hobbiton and especially Bag End reminded her too much of them and the pain they had caused. Every time she sat down at her table she saw them all sitting there, throwing her dishes around. Her mother’s glory box, the doilies, her own pantry, she could scarcely look at them without thinking of them, and that only hurt. At night when she couldn’t sleep she could hear the echoing song they thought she couldn’t hear.
Far over the misty mountains cold… To dungeons deep, and caverns old…
Her home was haunted by the ghosts of those still alive and yet unreachable. She had loved and lost and been through too much pain for one Hobbit to bear. She would have given up everything to stay with them, with him.
They had banished her for her crimes, there was no going back to Erebor, but neither could she stay here. In her lovely, homely Hobbit hole she felt… out of place. She had changed and it had remained the same as the day she had left it.
And so, three months after the day she returned home, she packed her travelling pack and after gifting the deed to Bag End to her kind and beloved gardener, she walked away.
She would head to Rivendell first, Lord Elrond had extended her an open invitation to stay should she ever wish and she intended to take him up on that. From there… well, who knew? Maybe she would go to Lothlorien, or perhaps she might visit the realm of men and the Horse Lords of Rohan. Maybe… maybe she could visit the Blue mountains. Bofur, Bifur and Bombur had hailed from there, though, perhaps that was not a good idea after all. They might not be her Dwarves (not that they were hers anymore), but no doubt word had spread, and Bilbo had no desire to find out what might happen if they too decided she was a traitorous snake. It was probably for the best that she avoid Dwarves entirely for her own safety.
Perhaps in Rivendell she could find peace, for a little while at least.
xxxx
She had been reading one of the Elvish history books in her favourite courtyard when she heard the light but unmistakable footsteps of an Elf approaching. Placing the book down Bilbo turned to face the Elf, a warm smile on her face. “Arwen, how are you?” she greeted.
“My dearest Bilbo,” Arwen said, mirroring Bilbo’s smile (though she very much doubted that hers matched the ethereal beauty of Arwen’s) as she took Bilbo’s small hands in her own. “I am well.”
Living in Rivendell had been easy. It was such a beautiful place, and Elrond had been a most hospitable host. She had free reign of the realm and she had found that she enjoyed roaming and learning from the Elves. The friendship that had blossomed between herself and Arwen, Lord Elrond’s most beloved daughter, had been a true blessing.
“Would you like to join me? I was just about to go and have some lunch,” Bilbo said, standing from her seat.
Arwen’s smile wavered. “I would love to, but I am afraid my father wishes to see you, Bilbo. A Dwarf, well, two Dwarves arrived at Rivendell this morning. They were looking for you.”
Bilbo’s heart dropped as quickly as her smile did. Why were they here? Why now? Bilbo had left Erebor almost nine months ago. If they wanted her to pay for her crimes, surely they would have come for her before now? No, no, this wasn’t right, they couldn’t be here!
Her breathing sped up with her heartbeat and before she knew it she was hyperventilating.
Who had come for her? Thorin? Dwalin? The Dwarven guard? She couldn’t face them, not after everything. It was too soon!
Arwen placed her hands on either side of Bilbo’s face, her thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. “Bilbo, breathe with me. You are safe here, we will not allow them to either harm you or take you from here if you do not wish it. Bilbo, breathe. You do not have to see them, or speak to them, this is your home, for as long as you wish it and you are family to us. My father wants nothing more than to make sure you are alright. Please, do not fret, my dear Bilbo.”
With Arwen’s help she was able to calm down enough to allow Arwen to walk with her to meet with Elrond.
“Do you know, who, I mean, which of them…?” Bilbo’s head was spinning and she could barely form coherent sentences, but mercifully Arwen understood.
“No, Father was alerted by the guards, and the Dwarves were allowed to enter on the condition they spoke with him first.”
“They’re here?! Inside?!” Bilbo cried, clutching at Arwen’s sleeve like it was a lifeline. It might seem like an overreaction, and perhaps it was.
When she left Erebor she was a wreck. Heartbroken and injured had it not been for Gandalf, Legolas, Bard and Thranduil she doubted she would have made it home at all. Her wounds yet beneath her skin, they ate away at her. She had found a family and it had been ripped away from her so swiftly and cruelly. She didn’t remember much from her journey back to the Shire, but she remembered the fear that they would come for her, hunt her down for her betrayal, no matter how justified it was. No matter that it was done for love.
As days had turned into weeks, and Bilbo had remained undisturbed in the Shire that fear had slowly abated. It seemed that the Dwarves of Erebor were content with the knowledge that she had been punished enough, her death was unnecessary unless she returned. Yet now they were here, in Rivendell, which surely meant… Breathe Bilbo, breathe.
“Yes, however until my father determines that they mean you nor us any harm they are being kept under a watchful eye.” Arwen stopped walking and gave Bilbo a heartfelt embrace which she returned tightly. “Bilbo, if you do not want to see them you don’t have to. We can send them away.”
Bilbo gulped nervously and allowed Arwen to once again lead her towards Lord Elrond’s private chambers.
When she had first met Elrond she had found herself speechless. He was everything she imagined Elves would be, tall, graceful, impossibly beautiful with eyes that looked as if they had seen all of history happen at once. Of course, when she had first met him he had been far more interested in Thorin’s company and of course Gandalf. She could not remember if she had spoken more than a few words to him their entire stay. On her way home, well, she was in very bad shape. Gandalf had brought her to Rivendell to be healed and from what he had relayed to her later, Elrond had taken on that duty by himself, spending days by her bedside. When she had woken up they talked, well, she talked and he listened, asking questions only when Bilbo seemed to lose herself in her thoughts. He wanted to know what had happened since she had snuck out of Rivendell with the company, and she told him everything.
He was impossibly kind and Bilbo owed him her life.
She trusted him and his judgement. He would not have allowed Dwarves to set foot in Rivendell if they meant her harm. But knowing that in her head and knowing it in her heart were two very different things. She remembered their faces when Thorin had nearly thrown her off the ramparts. They hated her, but not nearly as much as Thorin himself hated her.
Arwen pushed open the door and guided her inside, still holding her hand in a comforting manner.
“Lord Elrond, you wanted to speak with me?” she said with only the slightest hint of tremble in her voice.
Elrond looked down at her with kind and gentle eyes, seeing right through the brave face she had plastered on. “You have nothing to fear, Bilbo. From what I can see, and what they told me, the Dwarves are not here to hurt you, nor do they appear to wish you any ill-will. They were however, very insistent upon seeing you. They demanded it, in fact, shouting at myself and the guards until they were hoarse. They seemed to be under the impression that you were dead.”
Bilbo frowned, shaking her head, “I-I don’t understand, it doesn’t make sense, they… they hate me.”
“If they were acting they were very skilled indeed. They refuse to leave until they see you. I can, of course, have them forcibly removed but in truth I think the best course of action is for you to go and speak with them. Perhaps what they have to say is not what you expect.”
Bilbo nodded, whatever they wanted wasn’t important. They had travelled here to see her and she owed it to them to at least speak with them. It was not like they could strike her down in Rivendell. What more could they say to her that she hadn’t already said to herself?
“Who is it? Thorin?” she asked, biting her lip.
Elrond regarded her with sad eyes as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “No Bilbo, I’m sorry. Thorin remains in Erebor. His nephew, Kili came, with another from your company. Nori, I believe his name was.”
Kili and Nori? They were perhaps the last Dwarves she would have expected to come. Kili had always been so sweet, he had become one of her closest friends upon their journey. Her heart panged at the thought of his carefree smile and how much missed his hugs. At first she had struggled to imagine how he was even related to his Royal Broodiness Thorin Oakenshield but the more Thorin opened up to her, the more she saw who he truly was. Kili had received some of his best qualities from his uncle. It made her cherish him and his brother even more.
Nori on the other hand was a little more reserved, but she’d come to love his wicked sense of humour and he told the best stories. Of course, those stories usually involved thievery, spying and less than honest means of earning coins, but they were wonderful and Bilbo had loved them. Nori made her want to be more adventurous and brave. He had also taught her how to pick pockets, a trick she had delightedly tried on Thorin as often as she could.
She loved them both, but them being here, in Rivendell (an ELVEN realm thank you very much!) together was perhaps the strangest thing of all.
And if Kili was here, where was Fili? She could scarcely remember a time on their journey where one hadn’t been following right behind the other.
Arwen stepped between Bilbo and her father, ignoring the pointed, disapproving look Elrond sent her way. “You do not have to go, Bilbo. We can send them away, your health, happiness and wellbeing is our only priority,” Arwen said.
And she didn’t. She could turn and walk away, pretend that they had never come to Rivendell. She would never see them, nor any of the company ever again.
Her stomach dropped at the thought. No, whether they screamed at her, hurled abuse, declared her treasonous or whatever other horrible things she imagined, walking away now would cause her more pain in the long run, she was sure of it.
She missed them all, every day. Thorin especially.
Besides, she was a Baggins, thank you very much, and no Baggins would turn their back and run away from something difficult. Also, the Took in her made her foolish and stubborn enough to charge into situations like this with no regard to personal safety and or any consequences of that may occur due to her own actions. Either way, she was going to see them.
Nodding her head and squaring her shoulders she looked to Elrond. “I’ll meet with them, alone, if you don’t mind. I have to see them; I owe them that much at least.”
Elrond nodded and Arwen rose. “We will be nearby if you need us,” she reminded Bilbo her blue eyes full of worry and concern.
“They were put in the Western rooms. Come, Bilbo, I think they have waited long enough. I fear if we leave them alone much longer they may resort to breaking furniture and starting fires.” Elrond’s eyes glimmered and there was a faint turning up of his lips. If Bilbo didn’t know better, she’d say that he was making a joke.
Knowing them as she did, however, it was also a very real possibility. “Yes, of course. Lead the way.”
Bilbo’s room was on the far Eastern side of Rivendell, she rarely if ever wandered to the Western side, which was probably why Elrond had chosen those quarters to house the angry Dwarves. Both Elrond and Arwen were silent on their journey and Bilbo’s head was too full of fear and happiness and questions and memories to even try and prompt conversation, and before she knew it the three of them were standing outside an otherwise unremarkable room with two Elven guards on the door.
Breathe, Bilbo, breathe.
The Elves seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move. Her once friends were in that room.
She stared at the beautifully carved door before her and with shaking hands she reached for the doorknob and twisted it.
The image of Thorin screaming at her as he dangled her over the edge of the ramparts of Erebor flashed violently in her mind, momentarily taking her breath away.
I’ll kill you myself, you thieving whore! Treacherous SNAKE!
His eyes, the same eyes that had once gazed adoringly down at her with such tenderness and love, were rife with hatred and vitriol. In that moment she had almost wanted him to drop her, if only so she could never have to see the one she loved looking at her like she was nothing.
And then there was the blood, and the sharp, stabbing pain and the tears, so many tears and-
“Bilbo?” Elrond asked with a frown, pulling her back to the present moment.
“I’m fine. Sorry, I’m fine,” she said. I can do this, she whispered to herself and before she or anyone else could say anything or do anything to stop her she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Her heart was pounding against her chest as the two Dwarves, so familiar to her heart, turned to face her.
Kili, Nori.
For a moment time stood still.
Bilbo watched their faces morph from anger into surprise and finally--
“Bilbo, you’re alive! I knew it!” Kili laughed as he launched himself across the room, practically vaulting over the table and chairs set up in the centre, and wrapping her up in a tight bear hug.
“Bilbo Baggins, you’re a difficult one to track down,” Nori rumbled as he made his way over to her side. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see a Hobbit alive and in one piece.” And with that a wide, unbridled smile brightened up his face as he too wrapped his arms fiercely around Bilbo.
“I was never dead,” Bilbo murmured and then promptly burst into tears.
The two Dwarves only held her tighter as she cried.
xxxx
At some point Nori left the room mumbling about tea and biscuits, leaving Bilbo alone with Kili who seemed entirely unwilling to be more than an arms reach away from her. As it was he currently held her hand in his, leaning his shoulder against hers.
“Gandalf told us you were dead, that you died out on the battlefields. We mourned you Bilbo… it almost ruined us.”
Bilbo glanced up at him, her brown eyes red and puffy from all the tears she had shed. “I didn’t know. I thought you despised me. When I got back to the Shire part of me held out hope that there would be a letter one day, maybe not of forgiveness but even a note to let me know that you were all okay. When that letter didn’t come I resigned myself to the idea that you were happy I was gone.”
Kili turned to look sharply at her, “Happy? How could we be happy you were gone? You were family. You are family.” He gave her hand a squeeze and smiled sadly at her, breaking her heart once more. “We won back Erebor and that victory meant next to nothing without you there to share it with.”
Before Bilbo could respond the door to the room opened once more and Nori bustled inside holding a tray with a teapot and, as promised, several biscuits on top.
“The lad’s right,” he said as he set the tray down before her and promptly began to pour the tea into her cup. “I’ve seen more cheer at funerals than in the halls of Erebor.”
Bilbo gratefully took the steaming cup when Nori offered it, taking a sip and feeling just a little bit better as she did so. “I missed you too. Some days I wanted to come running back to Erebor, most days, actually. I would have, if I didn’t think Thorin would have strung me from the battlements upon my return.”
Kili and Nori exchanged a look Bilbo couldn’t quite discern the meaning of.
“Bilbo, you have to know, Thorin wasn’t in his right mind when he did that… He never wanted to hurt you, he would rather have died than hurt you.” Kili said, his wide honest eyes suspiciously shiny.
Of course he would say that, Kili idolised his uncle. “That’s very sweet of you to say,” she began, feeling her throat tighten uncomfortably. Her hands found themselves twisting the hem of her dress, and she found herself suddenly very interested “But madness or not he made himself perfectly clear, I am no friend to the Dwarves of Erebor.”
Kili once again pulled her into a tight hug, “You’re far more than a friend to us, Bilbo.”
“Aye,” Nori rumbled in agreement.
After that Bilbo didn’t want to talk about Erebor, or Thorin. So instead they talked of happier things, of Bilbo’s trip to Rivendell, and about the mischief certain Dwarves had been up to in her absence. It made her smile, just listening to them talk about anything and everything. For a moment, everything felt okay. She was happy.
“Why did you come looking for me?” Bilbo saw the frown starting to form on Kili’s face and hastened to clarify. “I’m glad you did, but you said that Gandalf said I was dead, why search for a dead Hobbit?”
Kili shrugged, “Because I never believed him. There was no grave, no memorial, no nothing. Gandalf said you were dead and everyone just believed him and then he disappeared and then we were left alone to grieve. I refused. So once the dust had settled I started searching for rumours, hints and whispers, anything that might lead me to you.”
“Which is where I came in,” Nori added.
“For months we had nothing. Bard wouldn’t say anything, if he had any information at all. I couldn’t expect any sort of help from the Elves, though Tauriel tried to find out if you had passed through.”
Bilbo didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up and his face softened when he spoke of the lovely elf. She was glad that they had each other, truly. Kili deserved someone who thought the world of him.
“What changed?” she asked.
“Rangers. They were overheard talking about a Wizard and a Halfling they’d seen on their last tour heading west. It wasn’t too hard to figure out it was you, unless Gandalf had made a habit of absconding with Hobbits.” There was a surprising bitterness to his voice that Bilbo wasn’t used to, but Gandalf wasn’t her favourite person at that moment either, so she let it slide. “I left that night, figured that you would have gone back to the Shire,” Kili said.
“And I followed to make sure he didn’t get himself killed on the road, not that he realised for most of the trip” Nori added, a wicked smirk on his face. Kili rolled his eyes and shoved him in response.
“By the time I got there you had left, and the Hobbit living in Bag-End didn’t seem too pleased to see me-“
“And by that he means that he was chased off with a pair of gardening shears,” Nori interjected, practically crying with laughter at Kili’s expense. Kili gave him a withering glare in response, which only made Nori laugh harder. The thought of Hamfast Gamgee chasing Kili away did kind of make her want to giggle, and she was more than a little touched that he still held that kind of loyalty to her. She had made the right decision in that at least.
However, she did feel a bit guilty for Kili, and judging from the way his fists were clenched and the look of murder on his face he was only moments away from launching himself across the table and throttling Nori.
Reassuringly she squeezed his hand and nudged his shoulder with hers. “So how did you get from Hobbiton to here?” she asked when the anger melted away.
“Well, no one in the Shire would tell me where you’d run off to, but the men in Bree were a talkative bunch. Gandalf had been by a few weeks before.” Bilbo nodded, Gandalf had come by to visit her only a few days before she had left. Perhaps he’d sensed her restlessness, or maybe it had just been coincidence, but for whatever reason he had shown up on her doorstep for afternoon tea out of the blue. “They said he was heading south to Gondor, so I went south to find him.”
Bilbo’s jaw dropped. “To Gondor? You went to Gondor?!” She couldn’t decide if she was more surprised at the thought of Kili wandering around Gondor looking for Gandalf or at the amount of jealousy she felt that she hadn’t been there with him.
Kili, mind reader that he was, smirked, “Yep, it was awful, I did not enjoy it, and I left as soon as I possibly could and came to find you here. I’ll take you there one day, if you’d like to go.”
Bilbo was floored. A trip like that would have taken weeks, if not months, and yet he had made it, they both had, on nothing but the word of gossipy Rangers. Once again she felt the tears unwittingly well up in her eyes and she thanked her lucky stars that even after all she had done, she still had their love.
“I’m really glad you’re both here,” she said, throwing her arms around the both of them.
After that the conversation turned to lighter and happier things. Eventually the sun sunk into the horizon and Bilbo’s stomach began to rumble.
“Best get you fed, if memory serves me right a hungry Hobbit bodes well for no one,” Nori chuckled.
Bilbo smiled fondly at him as they walked back into the open corridors of Rivendell, “I am rather peckish. Will you stay tonight, please? I’m sure Lord Elrond won’t mind.”
Nori snorted, attempting to pass it off as a cough when Bilbo elbowed him in the ribs none too gently. “I suppose we could suffer through one rabbit food dinner for your sake.”
“Oh, how generous of you.” Bilbo deadpanned, fighting back a smirk of her own.
Nori winked at her, but the mirth on his face died a little and he frowned. “But we do need to leave in the morning. It’s a long journey home, and we’ve been gone too long as it is.”
Bilbo nodded, of course she hadn’t been expecting them to stay forever, and she would cherish every moment with them that she could.
“Unless of course you want to come back with us?” Kili offered, a hopeful grin upon his face.
Bilbo sighed deeply and a little crease appeared between her eyebrows as she frowned. “You and I both know I can’t go back to Erebor, as much as I might want to.”
“But-“
Bilbo spied Arwen sitting nearby, a book in hand. “Sorry, Kili, can you give me a moment? I’ll be right back,” she said, darting away before he even had a chance to reply.
Kili sighed dejectedly, “She still thinks they hate her. She’ll never come home at this point!”
“No, she thinks that Thorin hates her, and that because of that the others will too. If Thorin doesn’t lock us both up upon our return, we will think of something. We’ll get her back, don’t you worry.”
Nori watched for a moment as their burglar embraced the dark haired Elf, the two whispering quietly amongst themselves. He found that he was pleased to see she had friends here, even if they were Elves. The thought of Bilbo entirely on her own against the world made his heart sick. But, he supposed, that was the kind of Hobbit Bilbo was, she could scarcely walk into a room without endearing herself to someone or other. It wasn’t just any Hobbit that could fit in amongst thirteen Dwarves and melt the iron heart of their king.
“So I guess we have to tell him, then?” Kili said, keeping his eyes on Bilbo and the pretty Elf as they chatted away.
“Scared?”
“Aren’t you?”
Nori deliberated for a moment before he spoke. “Absolutely. Which is why that’ll be your job.”
As far as Thorin Oakenshield knew, Bilbo Baggins died on Erebor’s doorstep, just out of his reach. Finding out she was alive, and that he had been deceived, was not going to be easy, nor would it be pretty.