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Chapter Text

“Bilbo, my dear hobbit,” Gandalf smiled, leaning over to look at the hobbit, “is there something that troubles you?”

“Actually, there is.” Bilbo nodded, before offering his magical ring to Gandalf and putting it on the table between them, near to their cup of teas. “See, my ring fell in the fire, just the other day. Some words appeared on the surface. Now, I learned that magical objects aren’t things we can joke about, and I was rather worried about this specific ring.”

Gandalf leaned over, looking carefully at the ring.

“I see.”

“You know what it is.” Bilbo realised. “Do you know the language it was used?”

“Language of the servants of Mordor.” Gandalf muttered, before placing his hand over the ring and muttering something.

A flash of light hit them, but, when it disappeared, the ring was still there, intact.

“Strange.” Gandalf murmured.

“Oh, dear, Gandalf!” Bilbo’s voice sounded different, more acute, more Baggins. “Where are we? Oh, no, Thorin will kill me, Gandalf!”

Gandalf looked up, blinking when he saw the differences between the Bilbo that sat in front of him just a moment before and the Bilbo that was there at that moment.

Gandalf blinked. Maybe he could try to find an explanation before Thorin came back….

“Amralime!” Thorin spoke, followed by the Company. “Can we interrupt your tea time for a second?”

Gandalf looked Bilbo pale, and then gulped, and then looked around to find a way out from his situation.

“Bilbo?” Thorin murmured, walking closer to the hobbit, who jumped and walked back.

Gandalf’s heart broke. He forgot how it was for Bilbo, at the very beginning of their quest. He was scared of disappointing Thorin after it was clear that Thorin didn’t see him as one of them.

“What is going on?” Dwalin asked, already looking for his axes and ready to strike whoever hurt Bilbo. Just to scare Bilbo even more, thinking probably that the axes were for him.

Gandalf stood, placing himself between Bilbo and the worried dwarves.

“Well, it appears that Bilbo got in on a magical artefact.” He explained. “His body is the same, but his mind…”

“What did you do to him, wizard?” Dwalin growled.

“Well, I didn’t do anything to Bilbo, Dwalin.” Gandalf said, even if he supposed it was a lie. “But his mind is from the past.”

“How much in the past?” Balin asked, eyeing Bilbo's expression. Probably, Gandalf thought, he could see the light of recognition, but not the affection that they shared.

“Well, I suppose it is just before we reached Imrandlis.” Gandalf nodded. 

“Wait…” Fili asked. “This is before the Carrock.”

“Indeed, it is.” Gandalf nodded. “Long before it.”

“But…” Kili looked at Bilbo, a sorrow in his eyes. “But…”

Thorin looked devastated, once Gandalf turned to face him. “Is there something we can do to restore his mind?”

“I’m afraid there is not.” Gandalf sighed. “But I’ll send for Elrond to see what he thinks.”

“Excuse me,” Bilbo talked for the first time, looking around nervous, as if he thought they’d kill him for saying anything. Judging by the dwarves’ expressions, they were aware that the hobbit had every reason to fear their reactions. “Where are we…?”

“Erebor, laddie,” Balin smiled, “we are at Erebor.”

Bilbo frowned, turning to see Gandalf. “Erebor?”

“Yes,” Gandalf smiled. “You succeeded in the quest of reclaiming Erebor from Smaug.”

“....Sure.” Bilbo muttered. “Just to know… what month is this?”

“April.” Gandalf nodded. “April 2943 TE, to be more precise.”

Bilbo blinked, before muttering. “I don’t feel so good.”

Chapter Text

Bilbo didn’t know why he kept trusting Gandalf.

Every time he did, he found himself in complicated situations, with dwarves invading his home, or with wargs trying to kill him, or with Beorn threatening him… well, it was clear that involving Gandalf was a bad idea from the very beginning.

It was more evident when Bilbo found himself at Brea, alone in the room where the dwarves had sent him all those years before.

“This Gandalf, he is never useful,” Bilbo scoffed, before standing up and walking to a mirror, trying to understand if he really was in the past.

His past self, fresh from the Shire, was looking at him.

Bilbo snorted. It wasn’t a surprise if Thorin and the other dwarves thought he would turn his back at them and go back home. Not only they had awful experiences with other races, and even with other dwarves, but also Bilbo didn’t look ready at all to travel in the wild.

Well, he had the entire night to prepare himself.

****

“Master Baggins?”

Bilbo raised his eyes, blinking when he saw Dwalin standing there, right in front of him.

“Master Dwalin,” Bilbo bowed a little his head, remembering the lessons Balin would have given to him. “It’s a good morning, isn’t it?”

“That’s a bow.” Dwalin recognised.

Bilbo nodded. “Well, we can’t really go on if I slow you down, can we? I thought that I could use the lessons I received when I was a faunt, hoping to be helpful.”

“There’s no need for that,” Dwalin growled, and Bilbo realised that he was both worried for Bilbo’s safety and worried that Bilbo might slow them down even more. “The Company can protect you.”

“Well, it’s better if I can protect myself, and help you in a more active role, even before we reach your Mountain.” Bilbo pointed out. “I noticed that Kili uses a bow.”

“Yes.” Dwalin nodded. “Maybe he can help you practice.” Dwalin gave a look at Bilbo’s head, probably wondering if that bread was there also the day before, and then walked fast to where Thorin was, waiting for Dwalin’s news.

Balin casted an appreciative look at Bilbo, while Gandalf looked at Bilbo in confusion.

Well, that wasn’t the reason why Bilbo wanted to make his own bow, but seeing that expression on Gandalf’s face made it worth it.

Gandalf could live a little longer with the confusion in his face.

And Bilbo needed to make clear some things with the dwarves.

Chapter Text

Apparently, Bilbo mused, following Bofur closely, Bilbo was some sort of important person there.

“If I tell you that I have no idea of what a consort is or is supposed to do?” Bilbo asked, eyeing cautiously Bofur, who laughed.

“Well, you did a perfect good until now, so I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine.” Bofur chuckled. “But, everyone has your back, so don’t worry.”

“That’s not really an answer…” Bilbo muttered. “So, you tell me that we managed to defeat Smaug, that the orc that Thorin was sure he killed was still alive, but now he is dead.”

“Azog.” Bofur smiled. “And his son Bolg. You killed both of them, Bilbo, saving the Durin’s line!”

Bilbo blinked. “I killed two orcs? Me? Are you sure, Bofur?”

“Yes, you did!” Bofur nodded. “And it wasn’t the first time you saved our lives during the Quest! All of this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you!”

Bilbo stood silent, before asking. “And Thorin was good with me staying here? Because it’s the least believable thing you told me.”

Bofur stopped his walk abruptly, before turning and looking straight in Bilbo’s eyes. “Bilbo, believe me when I say that Thorin begged you to stay here, with us, with him. He didn’t want you to go back to the Shire, slowly losing yourself and going back to be a respectable Baggins, not when you are so much more.”

“I am a Baggins!” Bilbo twisted his nose. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing bad about being a Baggins!”

“There’s not.” Bofur nodded. “There is ever less wrong in being Bilbo Baggins, and not any Baggins.”

Bilbo hummed, before asking. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Bofur nodded. “And I’m also sure when I say that there’s not a single person in this Mountain that won’t fight for your safety.”

“Okay, I do trust you.” Bilbo nodded. “You must forgive me, but I do not have anymore the tissue you gave me, apparently three years ago.”

Bofur chuckled. “Well, you have a lot of tissues here on the Mountain, now. You brought a little of hobbit here.”

“Okay.” Bilbo nodded. “You happen to know what happened with BagEnd?”

“One of your cousins took it, taking care of it for you.” Bofur answered.

“Not Lobelia, right?” Bilbo asked, suddenly scared.

“No, don’t worry. You didn’t lose your mind.” Bofur snorted. “Drogo, one of the most reasonable Baggins. He married Primula something.”

“Brandibuck!” Bilbo smiled. “Oh, tell me that I made Sigismond pay for our bet.”

“There was a discussion about some bets, if I recall correctly.” Bofur nodded.

“Perfect!” Bilbo nodded. “Drogo and Primula are ones of my favorite cousins, so I can accept them taking care of my parents’ house. Now, I really need to know what a consort does.”

“Well, a lot of things.” The answer came from Balin, who just reached them. “You handle things that are too big for me, the seneschal of the king, and Thorin, the actual king.”

“Like?” Bilbo frowned. “Because I have no experience in running a kingdom!”

“Well, taking care of the education, of the more… domestic sides of Erebor, we can say. Also dealing with our allies.” Balin replied.

Bilbo frowned, trying to remember what he knew and learned about Erebor. “Oh, so we’re talking about Dale and Greenwood, right?”

“Indeed,” Balin smiled. “I didn’t know you knew that much about Erebor, laddie.”

“I heard some voices, when I was a fauntling.” Bilbo shrugged. “I think Dale was already gone at the time.”

“Yes, you mentioned it before.” Balin had an interesting tone of voice. “It drove some of us, like Dori, crazy.”

“Why?” Bilbo asked.

“Well, you admitted you were 53, and some of us were horrified when we realized that.” Balin explained, adding a further explanation. “We reached adulthood at 75 years.”

“Oh!” Bilbo blinked. “Well, how old are you all, if I may ask?”

“There’s no problem, laddie,” Balin smiled kindly, “Well, I’m the oldest, almost 200 years! There's Thorin, who’s 185 years old, and my brother Dwalin, who’s 195 years old. Oin is 173, while Gloin, 163. Dori is 189, Nori 186 and Ori, the youngest of the ‘Ri family, is 78 years old.” Balin started to list. “Bifur is 181, Bombur 178 and Bofur is 168. And there are Fili, who’s 85 and Kili, who’s 80.”

Bilbo stood silent for a moment. “Well, you must age slower than hobbits, then! At 33, we’ve already reached adulthood!”

“You told us.” Bofur chuckled. “It was pretty interesting, seeing how much things change even between dwarves and hobbits, even if you’re so similar to us!”

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me.” Bilbo muttered. “Yavanna is our Valar, and she’s very different from Aule, your Valar.”

“Indeed she is.” Balin nodded. “But you and Thorin showed that they share the same preferences of their creations.”

Bilbo startled. Apparently, he was married to Thorin Oakenshield, the same dwarf that kept insulting him and that showed how little he thought about Bilbo.

Bilbo still didn’t believe them when they said he was married and, more importantly, loved by the dwarf.

“Well, I am…” Bilbo coughed a little, “You said there was an important meeting today? About what?”

“These were the notes you took.” Balin said, offering the whole pile to Bilbo. “You still needed to explain to us what you thought, but…”

Bilbo, after observing his notes, nodded. “Of course, it makes sense.” He looked at Balin. “You could have simply told me that consort duties were like the ones I did as a Baggins at the Shire, it would have been incredibly easier to understand.”

“I didn’t know.” Balin muttered. “So you know what to do about this?”

“Yes.” Bilbo nodded. “There is still a reunion to do, or are we still deliberating on it? Wait, we deliberate things, right? Since it is all about them, I think it is better that they have a say in this.”

“Yes, laddie, you already told us what you preferred.” Balin nodded. “And since this is your court, you have every right. The final decision, though, is up to you.”

“Well, I am sure we’ll be all on board about this one.” Bilbo smiled a little. “Well, I just hope I won’t mess things up just because I have no memories about what happened.” Then, he frowned, looking at Balin. “How will we explain the memory loss?”

Balin and Bofur exchanged a glance. 

“We didn’t think about it.” Balin confessed. “It just slipped everyone’s minds.”

Bilbo sighed. He had to think about everything.

Chapter Text

Bilbo rode behind the group. If he did recall correctly, the trolls were not so distant.

He reflected. 

He needed Sting, of course, but also he needed to make more research about the gold ring he found (or will find, according to which quest it was considered). And Rivendell was the perfect place where Bilbo could find that information.

Thorin, unfortunately, would never be persuaded into asking help to the elves, and therefore making the danger more real was the only way Bilbo could find to go there.

Gandalf then would make the rest, taking upon himself all the rage of Thorin. As he deserved, since it was his fault if Bilbo was once again in the past, redoing the quest.

Maybe, Bilbo mused, he needed to go back to handle the ring so much better. 

He then thought about what happened to his past version. He hoped he wasn’t in his place, just because he would have gone crazy figuring out how much changed between past and present. Or present and future, according to his past self.

Time travels were so confusing.

***

Kili and Fili were his future nephews. Bilbo had to repeat that to himself a couple of times, before he strode where their ponies were kept and threw something in the stew the trolls were preparing.

While Bombur prepared the dinner, in fact, Bilbo had gone collecting the more poisonous herbs that grew in those woods.

The sunrise was still far, and Bilbo didn’t want any of his dwarves (even if they didn’t know yet they were his dwarves) to get hurt in the meantime.

Of course, after he thought that, the dwarves ran into the place, attacking the trolls.

And they got caught.

Wow.

They were idiots.

***

Bilbo remembered to thank future Kili for his patience in teaching him on how to make an arrow on his own, because he definitely needed them as he threw them at the trolls, hitting them in the middle of their eyes and killing them.

Then, he walked where the Company was held and untied their knots.

“I didn’t use the signal we agreed on.” Bilbo said, talking to Kili, “And I thought that, since they were stronger than me, the best way to face them was using intelligence.”

“We didn’t think that.” Thorin said.

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me,” Bilbo muttered. Then, in a higher voice, he said. “Trolls are usually this brave? Because I was sure they didn’t show their faces till a long time.”

“No, they aren’t, laddie,” Balin nodded, “Why are they so brave now?”

Bilbo suspected it had something to do with Azog, but since Thorin was still in denial back then, he didn’t say that. Instead, he muttered. “They have a place to hide, right?”

“A cave troll.” Thorin nodded. “We must find it.”

“Well, it’s pretty easy to do so,” Bilbo said, shrugging. “Don’t you smell it?”

No, they didn’t. Because dwarves’ eyes were amazing, but their sense of smell was insistent. Bilbo envied that out of them. They didn’t smell the trolls, or the orcs or Smaug like he did. Damn, they didn’t smell themselves the way Bilbo did.

And Thorin was surprised Bilbo made him wash every time before letting him go in the bed with him.

Thorin looked at Bilbo, something changed in his eyes.

Bilbo hoped his meddling with the future didn’t change their relationship, because, despite Thorin being brainless most of the time and incredibly rude with their allies, Bilbo loved the dwarf.

“Lead us, then, Master Baggins.” Thorin nodded. “Then, we better keep going before something worse finds us.”

Bilbo wouldn’t be the one telling Thorin that they’d met something worse every time they made a step.

Chapter Text

If someone had told Bilbo that Thorin was pathetic, Bilbo would have hidden in fear that Thorin might find them and kill them.

And yet, apparently, Thorin really was pathetic.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Thorin asked, his voice tentative, as he looked at Bilbo intently — with those blue eyes that no longer seemed permanently furious . “I can get you anything you desire.”

Bilbo glanced around. The room was very hobbit-like in style, but it was missing one crucial thing.

“Well, it’s perfect, really, thank you.” Bilbo nodded, remembering his manners — and Thorin’s temperament .

“You hate it.” Thorin shook his head. “Forgive me, Bilbo. You’ve done so much for us, even if you don’t remember it, and I can’t even treat you as you deserve.”

“It’s fine, I don’t hate it at all!” Bilbo said quickly, suddenly worried he’d somehow got himself into trouble again. “It’s just… where am I going to sleep?”

Thorin fell silent for a moment before he spoke. “I… had assumed you’d continue your usual arrangements.”

“ Usual arrangements ?” Bilbo echoed. “Such as…?”

“The bed,” Thorin said, swallowing. “And the royal chambers, beyond this space — which is, of course, styled more familiarly in accordance with the lifestyle you’ve developed over the years.”

“Okay, uh…” Bilbo looked around again. “Where do I usually sleep?”

“In the royal chambers. With me. We’re married, so…”

Bilbo blushed. “But we’re not married.”

“The kingdom—” Thorin began, but Bilbo cut him off. “Everyone knows I barely know any of you well enough to be sharing a bed !”

Thorin swallowed again, and Bilbo took a step back as he saw him shift uncomfortably.

“There aren’t many spare beds,” Thorin said quietly. “But… if I’m making you uncomfortable, you may have our bed and I’ll sleep elsewhere.”

“Wait, take your bed ?” Bilbo shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t possibly do that. That’s indecent !”

Thorin looked at him for a moment, then pressed his lips into a thin line. “If you have another solution…”

“Bard offered to host me in Dale for a while,” Bilbo said. “And, since hobbits and men get along quite well, and Balin assured me there’s no danger from these men , I think it would be perfect. I can use the time to discuss the new trade agreement — make it all look very dignified.”

“No,” Thorin said, his face darkening. “You can’t go to Dale.”

“I can’t ?” Bilbo scoffed. “Excuse me, but I thought the agreement I signed didn’t make me your eternal slave!”

“We signed another agreement — a marriage agreement !” Thorin replied. “It doesn’t make you my slave, but it does make you mine.”

Bilbo puffed up his cheeks, deeply annoyed. His ?

“I’m not staying here against my will!” he exclaimed, pointing at Thorin. “And I don’t care what future me decided! If I want to go to Dale, I will! Unless your contract outlines what happens when all the positive memories are gone and only the insults and mockery and contempt remain, with plenty of prejudice as the only thing left!”

Thorin flinched, stepping back, his face going utterly pale.

Bilbo felt a pang of guilt, but he didn’t apologise. He couldn’t let Thorin walk all over him — not if they were truly married. And if he’d done nothing but that up until now… well, maybe losing his memories wasn’t so bad after all.

“You’re not my prisoner,” Thorin murmured. “Could you at least take someone with you? As an escort?”

“Gandalf’s coming with me,” Bilbo replied, more calmly now. “Balin said it was fine.”

Thorin swallowed and gave a small nod. “That is acceptable.” He sighed, bowing his head slightly. “Good luck with the negotiations.”

Chapter Text

If someone had told Bilbo that Thorin was pathetic — before the dwarf became his husband — Bilbo would’ve hidden in fear that Thorin might find and kill them.

And yet, apparently, Thorin was rather pathetic .

Rivendell was beautiful, there was no denying it, but Thorin was in no mood to appreciate it — not after Gandalf had tricked him into coming in the first place.

And the Elves speaking Sindarin in front of them, including Lord Elrond himself, certainly did nothing to improve the dwarf’s temper.

“ You really shouldn’t speak a language your guests don’t understand, Lord Elrond. Otherwise, I daresay you can’t call Rivendell a welcoming home for all races, can you? ”

Bilbo’s voice cut through everything else — the dwarrows’ muttering, the Elves’ murmurs, even Elrond and Gandalf’s quiet discussion about the worthiness of the quest.

“What did you say?” Elrond turned to him, eyes sharp and bright.

“I said it’s rather unworthy of the so-called Last Homely House to show such open prejudice against its dwarven guests,” Bilbo replied smoothly. “And since you’re talking about Thorin, perhaps you ought to include him in the conversation.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Or perhaps stop speaking in suppositions and guesswork altogether.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware halflings spoke Sindarin.”

“My mother had a high opinion of you, Lord Elrond,” Bilbo said, calmly.

“I’ve only ever known one hobbit,” Elrond replied. “Belladonna. But I believe she passed at least ten years ago.”

“She was my mother,” Bilbo answered, ignoring the way several dwarrows glanced at him. “She was rather taken with your gardens and your library.”

Elrond gave a soft huff. “As I’d expect of a hobbit.” Though Bilbo noticed the subtle shift in his tone — it was more courteous now. “And what drives a hobbit to leave the comforts of home to follow a band of dwarrows?”

“Well, Gandalf didn’t exactly give me much choice, did he? Inviting them into my smail without so much as a warning?”

Bilbo had recently discovered that Gandalf had told quite a few fibs to his dwarrows. Now, he planned to clear things up before Thorin could call him a burden again.

Even if he wouldn’t mind a hug for his efforts.

“I see.” Elrond didn’t look particularly pleased with Gandalf — as well he shouldn’t — and then added, “Lindir will show you to your room. Thorin Oakenshield, if you wish, we can discuss your needs privately.”

***

The following morning, while the dwarrows slept off their feasting, Bilbo prepared himself in the bath Arwen had shown him.

He had made small wooden beads, carved and painted with flowers to symbolise loyalty, love, and family. Then, carefully, he combed his hair and wove the beads into braids he still remembered.

Balin had insisted he wear the braid denoting his status as a prince by birth, claiming that being the grandson of a Thain was just as important as being a king’s heir.

In addition to the prince’s braid, Bilbo wore the braid of a general of Hobbiton — again, Balin’s insistence — and then the ones he loved most: the braid marking him as a loyal servant to the line of Durin, and the one declaring him an ally of Thorin himself.

The dwarrows would recognise them, of course. But Bilbo knew they’d only wonder what they’d missed.

After his morning routine, Bilbo had visited Elrond’s armoury and quietly stocked up some daggers. Then he made his way to the library to look up what exactly the Ring was — and how to destroy it.

He would save Thorin. And then he’d deal with that little matter.

Surely, it wasn’t anything too worrying.

Chapter Text

Bilbo took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping into Thorin’s chambers.

The dwarf was staring off into the distance, his expression sombre.

“I wanted to apologise,” Bilbo said. “What I said wasn’t kind. Or fair.”

“Nor was it untrue,” Thorin replied. “I must apologise as well. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I…” Bilbo swallowed. “I’m not trying to run away. Thorin, I don’t want to run without even knowing what I’ve forgotten. Why I’ve forgotten.”

“I’ve done you a disservice. You have every right to leave,” Thorin sighed. “I’m simply terrified of losing you . It’s happened too many times for me to accept the idea of your absence lightly. But you have every right to live your life, and I should not be a burden. I vowed to support you in everything. Even if you don’t remember those words, I do — and I’ve no right to pretend otherwise.”

“I’m not running, Thorin,” Bilbo said firmly. “I may not understand this life yet, but I’ve never run from anything. I’m certainly not about to start now.”

“No — you’re braver than anyone on this mountain, I’ll swear to it,” Thorin said with a small smile. “Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you…”

“Leave it for later,” Bilbo interrupted gently. “That way you’ll know I intend to come back.”

Thorin’s smile was like sunlight. “I’ll take that.”

***

Gandalf was staring at Bilbo sternly.

“I’ve discovered what caused the memory loss.”

Bilbo sighed. He’d been hoping it would be something simple .

Somehow, he doubted it.

Chapter Text

Bilbo knew they were watching him — he could feel it.

Dwarrows were not what one would consider discreet.

Still, Bilbo intended to make the most of the moment — and so he did.

Knowing what was about to happen, and that Gandalf would soon arrive with the news, Bilbo took the lead.

“Master Oakenshield?” Bilbo called, using the title of Master of Arms and Forging — the one Thorin had once told him he had longed to receive, but which had been overshadowed by something he had not chosen, and yet which was his regardless of his wishes. “I overheard Lindr and Lord Elrond speaking earlier.”

“What were they talking about?” Thorin asked, tilting his head slightly.

“They were discussing holding a council… the White Council, here,” Bilbo said, recalling what Elrond had mentioned after the success of their quest. “And they said it was highly likely they wouldn’t allow the journey to continue.”

Thorin growled, a low rumble in his throat. “Nori, Master Baggins, prepare our escape.”

Bilbo bowed his head, murmuring to Nori, “My mother once told me about an emergency exit, right at the end of the corridor. She said it looked out towards the East.”

“That’s perfect,” Nori grinned. “Show me the way.” Then, turning to Thorin, “Everyone must be ready to leave by the time we return.”

Thorin nodded, before saying to Bilbo, “I’ll see to your belongings.”

“Thank you.” Bilbo bowed his head again, then followed Nori to prepare their escape. Perhaps, he reflected, they might be quick enough to avoid the thunder battle.

****

They hadn’t been quick enough — or perhaps it had simply been something they could never truly avoid, no matter Bilbo’s efforts.

As they rested in the cave that would soon drop them into Gollum and the goblins’ plot, Bilbo noticed the way Kili and Fili lingered near him, watching him in what they thought was a discreet manner.

“Can I help you?” Bilbo asked, drawing the attention of the entire company.

“We were just admiring your braids,” Kili said. “Do they mean anything special to hobbits? They’re quite elegant.”

“Hobbits don’t usually braid their hair,” Bilbo said honestly. “Unless they’re girls — and even then, it depends entirely on the hair. The Tooks have very curly hair, hard to manage, a bit like their owners, I suppose. And the Bagginses have very straight hair, easy to keep neat.”

Fili pointed to Bilbo’s hair. “You’re a Baggins, and your hair is curly.”

“You should see it when it rains!” Bilbo huffed. “That would be a real mess.”

Kili laughed, amused. “You’ve done a good job with the braids. They’re very unique — for something chosen randomly.”

“Must be a blessing from Mahal!” Bofur cheered, clapping joyfully.

Bilbo frowned. He hadn’t expected such a sudden change. Until that point, only Bofur had tried to persuade him to stay, while Thorin had called him a burden, and the rest of the company had done their best not to upset their leader, leaving Bilbo to sort out his own mood without help — as was expected, even now.

Perhaps, he reflected, saving Kili had played a key role in Thorin’s change — the young dwarf being the youngest in the company, and Thorin’s nephew besides.

“Why?” Bilbo asked, looking at them. “And Mahal? You mean Aulë, your creator?”

For Bilbo knew of Mahal — but only after he had been allowed to admit such knowledge. Before, it wouldn’t have been appropriate.

“Yes, our creator,” Thorin said, before beginning to explain — much to Bilbo’s surprise. “The braids you wear mark you as a prince by birth and a general of your homeland.”

Bilbo grimaced. “Hobbits don’t have royalty, but I’ve heard Gandalf tell my grandfather more than once that being Thain was a bit like being a king. And we don’t really have an army, but Hobbiton — the village you passed through on the way there and back — is under my management. There are the Bounders, archers trained to defend our borders, along with Rangers and the Dúnedain, but calling it an army is definitely an exaggeration.”

“I see.” Thorin had a small smile on his face, before he said, “The other two braids are even more unique, because they identify you as loyal to the line of Durin — my line — and to me personally.”

“I didn’t know that, but I’m happy to confirm both,” Bilbo bowed his head. “After all, I’m a Baggins, and we keep our word.”

Thorin smiled — a flash of summer in a stormy night.
“And I am more than glad to accept such loyalty.”

Chapter Text

Bilbo did not trust the expression on Gandalf’s face.

He had seen it before, and he did not appreciate what it implied.

“What do you want me to do?” Bilbo asked, narrowing his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I’ve done here, Gandalf! I’m not a warrior, or a hero, or even a burglar! It doesn’t matter what you say or what I’ve learned over time! I simply am not!”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going on the journey alone. Legolas Greenleaf and Strider have offered to go with you.”

“Wait just a moment!” Bilbo pointed at him. “You involved them before telling me anything? You can’t keep making these sorts of decisions for me! And that’s certainly not how this started!”

“Time is of the essence in such delicate matters, Bilbo,” Gandalf said seriously. “The One Ring is one of the most powerful objects in Middle-earth. It must be destroyed before it’s too late for all of us.”

“Then we do it on my terms, or not at all—and you’ll have to find someone else for the journey,” Bilbo said, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s how this works.”

“I understand.” Gandalf nodded. “So, what remains to be done?”

“Bard will tell me what he thinks of the new agreement, because I’m not leaving Erebor without what they were clearly waiting for,” Bilbo said. “I’ll go back to Erebor and tell the Company that I’m leaving with you, and what I’m going to do.”

“It’s dangerous…”

Bilbo cut Gandalf off. “I won’t lie to my friends. And even if I don’t have any memory of them, they remember me.” Bilbo took a deep breath. “And if they couldn’t be trusted, I’m sure both I and my Took cousin would very much appreciate a moment with you to discuss your decision to send me off with them, in addition to be on our own so often.”

Gandalf snapped his mouth shut. “There’s no way I can convince you to postpone the discussion until our return?”

Bilbo shook his head. “You won’t put me in a position to lie, Gandalf. If you wanted someone false, you should have picked Lobelia.”