Chapter Text
Bilbo sighed as he slumped against the wall, listening to the great doors close behind him. Knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions in check for long, he'd sought solace in the first dark, empty corridor he could find. He feared he'd looked a sight, scurrying away, trying to hide his face, but he supposed in the end it mattered little.
He was going home. He had to go home.
It was just that he'd grown to care for his companions so. He knew once he left that a dwarf-sized hole would form in his heart for each one of the company. He knew he would never be the same.
Still, there was nothing for it. He may seem young to irrepressible dwarven lads who had 20 years on him, but he was really quite old enough to feel the weight of his responsibilities. He'd impulsively picked up and left the Shire, which had proven to be a rewarding experience for him. But he'd left behind Bag End, barely pausing to lock the gate behind him - so the expression goes. He was a bachelor, but that didn't mean he was a lonely old hermit. He had friends who frequently came by to catch up on the news and share some Old Toby with him in the coolness of the evening; they surely must be wondering where he'd got to. He had those he'd long employed to see to things about Bag End - people such as Holman Greenhand, who Bilbo suspected would continue to do the pruning and gardening, even though he'd not been paid for months. What must they have had to do when Bilbo suddenly wasn't there to give them their wages? There again was his responsibility to Bag End itself, which like all hobbit holes needed to be kept up regularly.
In the excitement of his new adventure, and then during the harrowing reality it had turned out to be, Bilbo had scarce had a chance to think on such things. Now, in the moments before sleep, when the excited thoughts of his day died down, they turned to what he'd left behind and what needed to be done, and weighed heavily upon his mind. The worry of them was beginning to seep even into his dreams.
Yet it was not just his responsibilities that he must go back to. Bilbo hadn't been lying when he said that to a hobbit, family ties were terribly important. Bilbo himself had chosen not to take a wife and have children. It had truly been his choice, as he'd seen the interest in lasses' faces when he'd been a lad himself. (Indeed, to this day the never married Verbena Goodbody flirted good naturedly any chance she got.) Yet even without such immediate family, to varying degrees, Bilbo had a plethora of blood relations. He should be around them, keeping up with them. It was so very integral to the nature of a hobbit to be a part of a tight-knit community. For good or for bad, being inside the familial circle was the only way a hobbit could feel a sense of belonging.
So it must be, Bilbo resolved as firmly as he could. It must be. He must return.
And the wetness that ran down his face was not at all related. Just these dangnable stone pathways, throwing up dust into his eyes.
When great arms encircled Bilbo from behind, he allowed himself to sink into them, knowing instantly to whom they belonged.
"I am sorry, Bilbo," Gandalf said, compassion filling his voice. "I had assumed you would be going back to the Shire. I did not mean to cause you such keen distress."
Bilbo hiccoughed a little, then sighed, "Never think it so," he reassured his friend as he tried to bring his emotions under control. "No indeed, it was never you. I have been... enjoying my time here. Perhaps more than is proper. I always intended on returning..." 'Home' wasn't the right word. Not anymore it seemed, "well, returning back to the Shire. The emotions I feel are foolish ones which surely will pass soon. Please don't be bothered, Gandalf. You words have done me no harm."
Gandalf's arms tightened slightly around Bilbo's midsection.
"Clever little Bilbo. My words do you no harm, yet the action of approaching you about the journey has caused this distress. Do not think that you can use your golden tongue against me so easily, lad. I have lived quite a long life, and seen a trick or two in my day."
Gandalf's words had their desired effect on Bilbo as he relaxed and chuckled. "I shall have to work extra hard in the future, then."
Gandalf chuckled as well and released the hobbit, turning him around to face him, and kneeling so that they were at equal height. "My dear hobbit. How far you have come from your little hole in the Shire. And I do not mean the distance. You are a wonder. Tell me now. Do you wish to go back to the Shire, or do you wish to stay?"
Bilbo was silent for long moments. Gandalf waited patiently, knowing how deeply Bilbo was searching inside himself.
Finally Bilbo spoke, his voice weary but accepting. "Honestly, Gandalf, I want to stay. I have grown to love these strange stone halls, perhaps more than even the green pastures of my homeland. It's just... I cannot live the rest of my life as a guest in another's home - a foreigner who will never quite belong."
Bilbo's words lingered in Gandalf's ears as the hobbit quietly returned to his room, and with new resolve, he turned to speak to his dwarves.
___
Bilbo wasn't sure what woke him so suddenly. He didn't think he'd been dreaming, but the groggy, clouded feeling in his head made everything seem so unreal that he wondered if his waking might yet be part of a dream. Then, like something from a nightmare, he watched the handle to the door move, and the door slowly creep open.
Heart in his throat, Bilbo sat straight up in his bed, trying desperately to get his fuzzy mind to tell him what to do. He couldn't seem even to scream as he watch the door in paralyzed apprehension.
When Kili's head poked through the crack in the door, Bilbo sagged in relief. "What do you think you are doing, lad?" He demanded.
This time it was Kili who startled. "Bilbo, you're awake!" He exclaimed, coming fully into the room.
"Only because you woke me," Bilbo groused, "What do you mean by sneaking into a tired old hobbit's room in the middle of the night?"
Kili grinned. "I didn't mean to wake you yet, but I was sent to bring you. Uncle's having an emergency council. Only those of us in the company are to be there." Kili paused, actually pouting a little. "I'm almost disappointed, Bilbo. I had hoped to carry my new cousin there, sleeping in my arms."
Bilbo looked scandalized. "Lad, cousin-of-the-heart or no, if you had gone through with that plan, I'd be forced to seek revenge, and while Bagginses are generally peace loving, Tooks are cunning and vengeful. You should be made very unhappy for a very long time."
Kili didn't look terribly swayed by this statement, but backed off so that Bilbo could get dressed. Then, quietly, he led the hobbit down a series of hallways until they reached a large room that Bilbo had never yet seen.
The entire company was there already, waiting for their last two members to arrive. It was a large and rather empty room, somewhat unusual for the decadent dwarves. There wasn't any adornment whatsoever, no jewels lining the walls, no grand thrones - or any seating at all. Just a large, empty room with a pedestal in the middle. The pedestal held an unrolled scroll, a quill and ink, and a small dagger.
Bilbo was mystified as he was led inside. Beside the pedestal stood Thorin and Fili. Gandalf stood behind them, with the rest of the dwarves gathered in a half-circle facing them. It was an eerie, almost surreal picture that they made.
Kili prodded Bilbo forward to stand before Thorin, and then went to stand at Fili's side. Bilbo looked around, wondering what was going on, still half-believing he was dreaming. Thorin stepped forward, and gripped both of Bilbo's shoulders, turning him so that the little creature's focus was entirely on him.
"Bilbo, we have come to a decision, all of us together. I hope that you know by now how deeply every one of us cares for you and how highly we hold you in our esteem. The thought of parting from you saddens us all greatly, and we have decided to fight for you, that we might not lose you so easily. To that end, we have come up with but one solution."
With that statement, Thorin moved his hand to the pedestal, resting it beside the small dagger.
Bilbo's breath hitched. "What does that mean? What do you plan on doing with that?" His voice was both sharp and hesitant. On one hand, he trusted his dwarves with his life. On the other, they turned to rather more violent solutions to problems than your average hobbit.
Thorin looked confused, then his eye widened as he realized where his hand had come to rest. He snatched it back as though it had been burnt, and moved to reassure their burglar.
"No, Bilbo, I'm sorry. We mean you no harm at all, and anything that happens tonight will be with your full consent."
"Anything that happens tonight?" Bilbo repeated, doubt lacing his voice as he looked around for answers.
Thorin bit his lip, knowing he was doing this all wrong. The rest of the company stayed dutifully silent as dictated by the ritual, although Thorin swore he could see Gandalf smirking at him.
"I'm messing this up," Thorin finally growled. "Burglar, you are very special to us, and we want to keep you. All of us do. And since we know that you want to be around family, we... well, we propose to adopt you."
That was certainly not what Bilbo had expected. "Adopt me? As if I'm a helpless, orphaned lad?"
"We certainly don't see you as helpless, Bilbo," Thorin tried to explain, "but according to our laws for adoption, you're well within the adoptable age range, and your parents are dead."
Bilbo gaped at him, "Want to run that by me again?"
Thorin sighed. "It seemed that your main reason for returning to the Shire was to be with family. We cannot replace the family that you have there, but we thought perhaps we could give you a family here, too. Not just of the heart, but in every way. You'll belong to us, and we to you, just as closely as if you had been born a dwarf yourself."
You'll belong to us as closely as if you had been born a dwarf yourself. The words hit Bilbo's heart so abruptly that he lost his breath and the resulting emotion brought tears to his eyes.
"So I'll, I'll be.."
"My son." Thorin said, firmly.
The tears in Bilbo's eyes spilled over. He stood completely still, staring at Thorin, unable to speak. When he got his voice back, it was hoarse. "You... really want that?"
Thorin didn't answer. He just smiled and reached out again to grip Bilbo's shoulders. At that Bilbo gave a shaky laugh and hugged a startled Thorin. The hug was short, but there wasn't any doubt as to what Bilbo's answer was as to whether or not he wanted to be adopted.
"I can't believe this," Bilbo said, stepping back, "but I'm honored." He smiled out at the rest of the company, most of whom were grinning back at him, but remaining very strangely quiet. Normally there would be a dozen voices fighting each other to be heard, but they just stood there, silent and still.
Bilbo's happy look slowly changed to confusion. "What's wrong with them?" He asked Thorin.
"Our adoption ritual is very specific. This is more than just me adopting you. Mine will be the official adoption, but the rest of us want you, too, as part of our community. If you were a dwarf child, not only the primary guardian would adopt you, but members of his extended family or community. Each one who performed the ritual would be responsible along with the primary guardian in making sure the child is raised well. This was put into place to prevent the parent from becoming abusive or too permissive. Adoptions are extremely serious for us, and the solemnity of the occasion dictates that they must remain silent out of respect until they have completed their portion of the ritual."
"What does the ritual involve?" Bilbo asked.
"You and I must first sign the document, as proof to all who are not here that the adoption took place. Gandalf will sign as a witness." Thorin hesitated here. "Then, to become my son, my blood must run through your veins. We will each cut our wrists, then hold them together. After that, each one of us will plait a bead into your hair. The braids must stay in your hair for three weeks to let all who encounter you recognize you now belong to us - that you are now our family."
Bilbo looked around at all the smiling, nodding faces, and sucked in a breath. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?" He said, "Let's do this."
He could have sworn the others were silently cheering.
___
The signing of the contract went quickly, first Thorin signing his name and then Bilbo. It was the next part that was nerve wracking. Thorin picked up the knife from the pedestal and took Bilbo's hand. As quickly as he could, he drew the knife across Bilbo's wrist in a thin line. Blood burbbled to the surface. Thorin then did the same to his own wrist and held it to Bilbo's. Gandalf stepped forward with a length of cloth, binding their wrists together.
Bilbo let out a sigh of relief. He had known Thorin wouldn't actually hurt him, but he hadn't been keen on the prospect of getting cut, either. He was glad to have been done with that so quickly.
Thorin nodded his head at the other dwarves, and Fili stepped forward. Smiling, he selected a lock of Bilbo's short hair, and carefully began plaiting it, weaving the bead of silver into it. The bead was simple, but bore Fili's name in Khuzdul. It was a mark of ownership, in a way. Bilbo was now his - a part of his family.
When he finished, he leaned toward Bilbo's ear and whispered something in Khuzdul. Then he backed away and Kili took his place. Kili fumbled greatly trying to plait the short hairs on Bilbo's head, but managed at last with great pulling to complete the braid. Before he stepped back, he whispered the same word into Bilbo's ear.
One by one, each of the dwarves repeated the process, until nearly every hair on Bilbo's head had been plaited. Fili's and Kili's beads had both been identical silver with their names engraved. The rest of the company had each chosen different materials, shapes and sizes for their beads, though they all of them had their names inscribed on them.
Thorin was the last to plait Bilbo's hair. His was to prove the hardest to braid as their wrists were still bound to one another. However a lock of hair had been left for him at the front of Bilbo's head, which made the task doable. Thorin's bead was gold - the only one. When he was done with the braid, he whispered the same word, followed by two others in Bilbo's ear. Then he pulled away and Gandalf, who had not participated in the braiding, stepped forward.
The old man caught up their bound wrists to untie them, and as he did so, their wrists suddenly started to glow. After a moment the glow moved to encompass Bilbo's whole body, sending an electric shiver through him, before fading out. Bilbo wriggled slightly, looking down at himself then back up at Gandalf for an explanation.
"This is my gift to you, the only thing I can contribute to this happy occasion. A hobbit you will forever remain, but now you will be given the proper time to spend with your new family. I have given you the lifespan of a dwarf, or close to it." Gandalf smiled as the whole company gasped.
"Your life is no longer half over, Bilbo Baggins of Hobbiton," Gandalf finished the ritual with a flourish, "it is now just beginning, Bilbo, son of Thorin, son of Thrain, of the House of Durin!"
The cloth slid from their arms as the company erupted into cheers.
___
Hours later found the new family in the great hall finishing a truly enormous feast. Although it was still before breakfast time, a feast for the family to mark the occasion was apparently a tradition. There would be another day of feasting in 24 hours, when the decision was announced. Bilbo might not understand most dwarven rituals, but he fully agreed with anything that involved feasting.
Since the ritual had ended, the whole company was abuzz with energy and good tidings. They'd been talking of everything and nothing for the last few hours. Bilbo, wholly unused to doing anything with his hair but cutting it, found the new braids itchy and uncomfortable. Thorin frequently had to grab at Bilbo's hands to keep him from scratching the new plaits free, Bilbo grumbling good naturedly the whole time.
It was so strangely right.
"Thorin," Bilbo finally asked, "what was it that you all whispered to me after you braided my hair?"
"It meant 'welcome'," Thorin said, "welcome to our family and to our community."
"Yours was different." Bilbo stated.
"I was welcoming a son."
Bilbo felt sentiment rush over him, and he felt the urge to hug his newly adopted father again.
"Bilbo," Ori spoke up, "Now the you are officially a dwarf, I can teach you Khuzdul, if you like. It would be very useful as the king's heir, to know what was being discussed and written in contracts."
The idea of learning the language held great appeal to Bilbo, and he readily agreed.
Then he suddenly realized what Ori had said.
"Wait, King's Heir?" He questioned.
Dwalin took this moment to tease him. "Aye, what did you think, lad? You are son to the King Under the Mountain."
Bilbo's eyes grew large, "What? Wait, no, what does this entail?"
Bofur tried not to laugh at his friend's distress, "Well, I think it'll take some convincing, but sooner or later everyone will accept you on the throne. You won't have to worry about it for many a year yet."
Bilbo's breath caught. He hadn't even thought on that possibility. "Throne? No! What about Fili?"
Fili was also trying not to laugh. "Well, naturally I will be stepping down from the line of succession. I am, after all, just a nephew."
Kili's sigh was most convincing, "I don't envy you, Bilbo. You have a lot of schooling to catch up on. Hundreds of years of history, law, war strategy, diplomacy... why you'll be doing nothing but studying until you're king yourself!"
"King... myself...?" Bilbo abruptly lost all color. "No, absolutely not. I refuse."
"It's a little late for that, Bilbo." Dori put in, "Ritual's over. Legally, you're bound to Thorin as heir."
This couldn't be happening. There was no way Bilbo would be sitting on that throne. "I don't care!" Bilbo voice shook in anger, "I absolutely wont be ruling anything or anyone! If you even think of trying to force me into it, I'll leave right now, return to the Shire and never return. I can't believe that not one of you would have thought to inform me of that possibility. It is absolutely unacceptable..."
As Bilbo's tirade continued, the dwarves couldn't stop themselves from bursting into laughter, finding the whole thing hilarious. They hadn't been serious. They'd known their burglar wouldn't want the responsibility or prestige of taking a throne. Even had he wanted it, though, it would have been impossible politically, especially at such a new and unstable time, to try to give rulership to one born of another race. It had never been done, and likely never would.
But they couldn't resist teasing their little friend. To them his rants were almost cute, like a kitten hissing to show it's dominance. Not that they'd take Bilbo less seriously when it mattered, but it was fun to watch him get riled up.
Finally Thorin put a stop to it. "Enough." He said, addressing everyone, "hush, Bilbo. We were just joking. Fili is still my heir to the Throne. You will never have to worry about that, nor will he. I declared him heir long ago, and that cannot be undone while he lives. Even were I to take a wife and produce a son from my body, Fili would inherit the Kingship."
Bilbo let out a sigh of relief, before giving them all a ferocious glare for their teasing - which of course they all still found adorable.
"However, in all seriousness," Thorin continued, "Ori made a good point. You have already proven yourself to be an excellent diplomat, and I would like you to continue to be. Now that you can legally be taught, Khuzdul would be an invaluable tool for you."
This seemed agreeable to everyone, and Bilbo felt a surge of happiness and pride well up inside him. So he wouldn't now just be relegated to a child. From now on, not only would he fully belong with his dwarves, but he would also be useful.
He was wanted in a way he hadn't felt since his mother's death.
He still had to go to the Shire, Bilbo decided, to tie up loose ends, settle his accounts with those who were taking care of his hole in his absence, make sure all was right.
But Bilbo was no longer going home to the Shire. He was going back to take care of things, but then he was going to says goodbye to Hobbiton and its inhabitants and return home.
Home, to the mountain.
/End