Concrete angel

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Tolkin's because if I did, things would have turned out differently. I also don't own the music

Note: Anything said between ** is said in Khuzdul. Later, I will but a word or two in but for the most part follow this.

Happy International Fanworks Day! Last year, AO3 declared February 15th International Fanworks Day. Let's all remember this day as a time for everyone to contribute to fandoms new and old.

Bold= flashback or dreams

Italic=thoughts

Curling up his small body, he tried to will away the pain coursing through his veins. He was a fool. Always was, always would be and nothing would change that, not even the course of time. Was it so wrong? His actions were they so skewed to deserve this? Maybe…He had to learn, that was what he was told. Learn yes. He could learn, he might never be as smart as others but he could still learn. All he needed was time. Now the only question was would he live to see it?

Bilbo hadn't moved an inch from the time he slammed the door shut. His body still rested against the unforgiving slab of wood, the only thing which kept him up right.

How much of a fool he had been? All the signs were there. He knew they were hiding something, all of them but still he ignored it. Even when Lobelia pointed it out, still he refused to believe they were hiding something. Well, at least nothing so drastic. King…What a fool. Nothing more than a passing fancy. Royalty never settled for a commoner, no matter what the stories said. They were only there to give hope and comfort to lower classes to keep them in their place. Lobelia had said as much in the past. But he could never rid himself of that romantic notion. However, reality finally caught up with him and he was seeing his story book love fade.

"Just when things were starting to settle down…" Dwalin grumbled under his breath as he watched the interactions of the shire in the town square. Less than an hour ago, some jackass decided to blow his cousin's cover and now all the hobbits were wary of the dwarves. Sure, they never voiced it, but the looks in their eyes was enough to let him know what they were thinking. The dwarves would once again have to fight their way back into good standing with the shirelings. Why did they ever listen to Gandalf? Perhaps being honest with them from the beginning would have saved them a lot of heartache. He really needed a smoke right now.

As if Mahal answered his prayers, a lit pipe appeared before him. "You looked like you could use this." Nori smirked as he handed Dwalin the pipe. However, it wasn't Nori's usual smirk, more of a slight smile. All the ill will usually forced behind it completely gone.

"Thanks."

They sat in silence people watching again like they had before the orcs came. Only this time no barbs were thrown only good company remained. It was pleasant to not have to have a verbal battle with his co-worker. Dwalin hoped this peace between them would last.

"Thanks."

Dwalin shifted his eyes to look at Nori. "What are ye thanking me for? Ye are the one who gave me the pipe?"

He wasn't good at expressing gratitude, ask Dori, but he needed to say it. Even if he might look weak. "For what you did in the forest, for Ori and for hiding me when the rangers came. You didn't need to do either. Especially with the type of ass I've been."

The humility from Nori was astounding. The dwarf normally thought himself beyond gratitude. To hear such words, he considered have Oin look at his ears. But as Nori played with his hands in his lap, he knew the sincerity was genuine. "The little one was in danger. Whatever ye might think of me, I would not put our feud over his life. As for the rangers…" he had to think of how to phrase this right. "Ye are my co-worker. Even if we don't get along, we need to stick together. If ye are in danger I will help ye and I hope ye would do the same for me."

Forgiveness was a complete stranger to Nori. Even Dori held on to his anger longer. But Dwalin was ready to forget the past and stick his neck out for him. Once again, he found Dori right. Dwalin was a noble dwarf. He began to feel more like a heel as the moments past. All the nasty things he said. Displaced anger and now he was once again at those crossroads. He had to choose which path he would take. Keep his unjustifiable hate towards Dwalin or let go of the hot coal.

Nori was shaken from his thoughts as a body flopped down next to him. "Well, that was sure excitin but I don't want to be doin that again." Bofur grinned at his friend.

"What are you doing here?" In the back of his mind, Nori wondered why Bofur wasn't with his family or Dori.

"What does it look like I'm doin? I wanted to make sure ya were ok. Ya had yar brothers spooked when they couldn't find ya after the rangers came. Dori thought they might have hauled ya away. For someone who likes to be nice and neat yar brother sure knows how to get dirty."

"Dirty?"

"Yeah. The poor fella was lookin high and low for ya. Told I would track ya down instead. Don't scare us like that. There are people who care about ya."

Bofur was worried about him, too? After everything he did. "Bofur-"

"Don't ya say it. It's water under the bridge as far as I'm concerned. But ya might want to have a talk with Dori. He might be a little steamed still but he will cool off eventually."

"Bilbo, open up!" A loud knock jolted him from his spot against the door. He thought about ignoring it but it was never a wise idea to disregard a wizard.

Opening the door only slightly, he hoped to keep Gandalf out. However, Gandalf had other ideas as he burst through the door knocking Bilbo back a few paces. "You have a lot of explaining to do, my boy." He crocked as he slammed the door shut.

"I have explaining to do?" What a crock! "You knew who he was and still you never said a thing to me! How could you? I trusted you. I trusted him. "

"And what pray tell what trust was broken?"

"Who he really was. A king! Are you out of your mind!"

Clutching his staff, he tried to control his anger. Sometimes, mortals could be so foolish. "Is that all? You throw him out of your life because of his heritage? I thought you were better than that Bilbo."

Bilbo was taken back by the harsh statement. "It's not his heritage, it was the lie! How can I trust someone who lied to me?"

"And what else did he lie to you about, hum? About his family? No, you have met his nephews and cousins. You are also aware of his brother and sister. How about how he lost his home? Of course not, they never kept it a secret from you. How he became leader of his people? Now things must make more sense to you about the battle of Alizbare. After losing, their king, his grandfather and his heir, his father, who else would they have turned to?" As he caught his breath, he noticed with every additional word, Bilbo face seemed to fall even more. But still one final blow needed to be dealt. "Did he lie to you about his feeling?" He whispered. "Did he?"

"I…I don't know."

Moving the now distraught hobbit to the sitting room, he maneuvered Bilbo to his chair hoping for him to regain himself and continue their conversation. After a moment, he began again. "Well?"

Was he really honest with him or was it all in fun. Searching his heart and mind, he did not think Thorin could be that good of an actor. "He said, if he could, he would give me a crown. I didn't understand. I thought it was just some romantic gesture, but now…"

"But now you are thinking other wise. Bilbo, the dwarf has suffered greatly over the past few years as have you. The two of you were fortunate enough to have the fates cross your paths. Don't throw it all away over a little white lie. If you are going to blame anyone in this situation, blame me. When I told them about the shire, I advised them to keep the royal bloodline a secret. There was no malice intended but you know how some people get, especially in the shire when it comes to stations. They wanted a new life, nothing more."

"But why didn't he just tell me? After everything. I would have kept his secret. I wouldn't even have told Frodo."

"That you will have to ask him. But remember, my friend, a lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt to be dangerous. When he comes around again and I know he will, ask him. You might be surprised by the answer."

Just a little more pressure was needed, not much more, just a little to break the skin. Too much would cause a big mess and a big mess would be hard to explain away. As the blade finally pierced the flesh, he sighed as he felt the heady relief he craved. His was what he needed. A release from all the stress in his life. How had life become some complicated? To reduce him to this. Watching the crimson liquid pool in the wash basin, quickly grabbed a cloth and applied peruse to the wound.

That was enough for today. Maybe he could do it again to more. If he was able to. Could not do it as much as he would like. People might get suspicious. It was a good thing he always worn long sleeves. Maybe next time he would try farther up the arm. A little variation might be good and would give the other wounds a chance to heal. Couldn't have any scarring, that would raise too many unwanted questions but who really thought to look behind the ever present smile?

Maybe he should try again? Thorin pondered as he continued to clean the forge. After his rough encounter with Bilbo, he found himself back to his other, other home. Ignoring the questions and odd looks he received from both the dwarves and the hobbits, he found himself able to think better when his hands were in motion. Thorin was nothing if not persistent. If he let Bilbo go, he would be making the greatest mistake of his life. No, he was not going to lose anything else. Even if it took years of trying, eventually Bilbo would forgive him. Hopefully.

How to apologize? Gifts? No. Bilbo was far from shallow and would most likely throw them back into who's ever face it was and tell them to do so in kind to the sender. An invitation to a quiet meal where they could talk? Bilbo most likely wouldn't show and if he did, it would most likely to throw food in the other's face. His head ached as he continued to come up with ideas and quickly threw them away. But his head hurt far less then his heart.

"Come on Kee. Cheer up. It will take time but everything will be back to normal before you know it." Fili tried to reassure his brother. Time seemed to slow for the pair since their identities were discovered. Once again, their world grew quiet as people looked on at them never really interacting. Only looking. Once again, they felt like the little lost boys their uncle took in.

His brown eyes watered more even as his hand wiped away the insensate tears. Kili knew his brother was lying. He always did when he wanted to protect him. When their mom died, he told Kili she went on a long trip and they would see her one day. When Ori was really sick, he never mentioned gathering the stone for his tomb and now, he tried to protect him from their lonely reality. He was too old to need such protection, maybe Fili wasn't trying to protect Kili as much as himself. Perhaps their reality was too much for him to bear? Either way, Kili was in no mood to be coddled.

Yanking away from his brother's gentle embrace, Kili slumped over in the fetal position trying to once again make sense of their ever shifting world. There Kili laid intent on staying there until he felt like leaving the safety of his own embrace. It was only when he saw large hairy toes did he look up.

Simple. Hobbits were simple creatures. So in theory, just appearing at Bilbo's door and asking for forgiveness should work. So, why did Thorin's hand hesitate on that first knock? Simple. Just say, "I'm sorry for not telling you the truth and please take me back. You are the best thing that has even happened to me." Thorin scoffed at his own inner monologue. Such words would never pass his mouth. But he did need to say something. Something simple and heart felt. The truth usually worked best.

It seemed fate was less patient than usual as the green door was nearly ripped off its hinges by the irritated looking hobbit standing behind the door. His eyes seemed to glow with an intensity Thorin was not used to seeing from someone he cared so much, at least not directed at him. "What did you want?"

"I…" You are Thorin Oakenshield. You do not stutter! "May I come in for a moment? A talk is all I am after. I wish for you to hear me out. If you never wish to speak to me again after that, so be it." Still the hobbit did not move from the door way. He stood there waiting for something more. "Please." Only then did he move.

It seemed like eons since he had entered the cozy smial when it was only a few hours. Still he looked at things with new eyes. Were there always flowers on the table? Was the armchair always so close to window? Did the room always feel just the right temperature?

Flopping down in his chair, Bilbo waited for Thorin to sit. He would hear the dwarf out, but this by no means meant he would take him back! The sands of time seemed to slow as both parties waited for the other to start. Bilbo, for his part, had nothing to say at this moment. After all, Thorin was the one who approached him. He should start.

"I wish I knew where to begin." Thorin muttered under his breath just loud enough for Bilbo to hear. "Apologies are not my strong suite and I am not really sure what I am apologizing for."

"You lied to me. That is what you are apologizing for." He grumbled folding his arms over his small chest. "You lied to the whole town and made me look like a fool."

"I did no such thing! Yes, I lied but I never made a fool of you!"

"Like hell you didn't!" Bilbo sat straight up in his chair fists clench in anger. "I trusted you; I made sure everyone knew I trusted you. Even when things didn't make senses, I still trusted you and now they see I was fooled and my word means nothing."

"Your words have not been damaged. You never lied. Your intent was pure. Mine, however, were not. It is my word in the village which as been tainted and I would say as much in public." Thorin ran his hand through his bearded chin as he tried to compose himself. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go.

"My intent may have been pure but because I was deceived, I in turn deceived others." Bilbo thought about Hamfast and the others who relied on his better judgment to protect them for the cruelties of the world.

Thorin couldn't disagree with that fact. He had hoped the thought would never have crossed Bilbo's mind, but once again, he forgot how smart the hobbit was. One of the many reasons he loved him. Again, silence took over as he tried to find purchase in their conversation. Bilbo might be smart, but did he truly understand. "Have you ever wondered why I lied to you?"

Bilbo had pondered the question. At first he thought it was to get in his pants or gain something but if the only thing Thorin lied about was his statues when what could the real reason be? Wouldn't he have gained more acknowledging his kingship?

See the wheels turning, Thorin decided not to keep him in the dark for too much longer. "My entire life I have been dedicated to my people. From the time I was born, I was told your people are like your children and must be protected at all costs. The kingdom might be gone but not it's people. This might not make much sense to you, but there are people out there who scoff at a landless king. To them, they have no power and without power, many times comes oppression. After all, what can I do to stop them? All I have is what you saw when we first met. It is was not much and we had to fight to keep every drop of it!"

"But why fight me? I would never have wronged you?"

"That it true. I know this now. But what about others? Maybe not to oppress but to gain. Some ill conceived notion of gaining favors. That too, is a fear. Bilbo, I swear on the lives of my nephews if I knew it would turn out this way…" Would he have done something different? Would he have told Bilbo the truth?...No. "I wish I could say I would have chosen differently but my people will always come first."

Bilbo could only stare at the dwarf as he tried to wrap his mind around Thorin's words. His whole life, Bilbo too was told to protect the people beneath him. Would he have done the same thing in Thorin's spot? Would he have lied to protect all the families who relied on him?

Before he could pounder the thought any more, he spotted his young nephew scraping though to the kitchen pointedly ignoring the adults in the room. It was upon hearing him rummage through the cabinets did he finally rise to see what sort of trouble the boy was causing.

"Frodo?" He received no answer. His head did not even turn from his task. Looking closely, he could see a basket being filled to the brim with treats for an afternoon snack. But so much food would not be suited for only one person or even two.

Gently, he placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "Where are you going with all this food?" Even thought his attention was on his nephew from the corner of his eye he could see Thorin peeking in. Noisy dwarf.

For the briefest of moment's Frodo turned. "Packing a snack for my friends. I promised Fili, Kili and Sam we would have a snack outside. You grownups might be foolish but that doesn't mean we must." Slamming the lid of the basket closed, he heaved the over loaded cart off the ground, waddling his way to the door.

As he left, he could feel the grownups' eyes on him. Fools…

Long after his sluggish retreat, they stared at the spot where he exited.

"From the mouths of babes." Bilbo smirked. Once again, it seemed his nephew was the voice of reason in this ever turbulent world.

The moment of clarity in his eyes were once again clouded as he turned back to his company. Thorin braced himself for the worst. "You!" The hobbit stormed over to him causing him to falter backwards. "You lied to me. You made a fool of me and regardless the reasons, the damage was done." Each word pierced his heart as a soft finger jabbed him in the chest forcing him back to the seat. "Never have I been so insulted by someone I cared for so much. And you, Thorin Oakensheild, will spend the rest of you life making it up to me, I will make sure of it! You can start by putting new locks on the front door after you move in."

The rest of his… wait! Move in. "What?"

"You heard me. Or do you hear the banging of hammers in your head after you leave the forge?"

Relief flooded over him. He wouldn't cry in front of Bilbo, he lost too much pride already. "Thank you. Thank you." He reached up grabbing the other's small face in his hands trying to his kiss him. "You are the most wonderful…forgiving…kind… person in the world."

Flailing his hands, Bilbo was not about to let his boyfriend sweet talk his way out of it. "Enough out of you! If I wanted to be smothered in kisses, I would get a dog. But don't think you are forgiven just because you are moving in. I meant what I said. You will be spending a great deal of time earning my trust back and it won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be. But I do have a question. How many locks do you want on the door?"

His eyes started to blur forcing the once vibrant colors to mesh together into a brownish blob. Why was everything getting so fuzzy? Shaking his head to try and clear his vision Legolas wished he had thought his action through more thoroughly as his head started to pound and the world tilt. What was going on? He couldn't be sick. He never got sick. Well...maybe when he was really little but he was bigger now. He wanted to find Gimli. All the noise in the forest from earlier forced him to freeze like a deer. But now, even if he wanted to, he probably would be able to make it to the edge of the woods.

Lying down, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead but he was far too tired to care about it. Maybe a quick nap would help. He just wished it wasn't so hot. The forest shouldn't be this hot. Not even in the summer.

As his eyes started to shut the crunching of brush forced them to open once more. At first, he thought nothing of it. Most likely Gimli finally returning. But a moment later he heard a second set. Bolting up, he tried to make himself look as small as he could hiding in the shelter. Even as the steps approached the clearing, he refused to move. There was no point, he was too weak to move and perhaps, if he was very still, whoever they were would think this place was deserted and leave.

"Legolas?"

No. He wouldn't be swayed by his friend's voice. No matter how worried he sounded. "Are you here? Please, come out."

There it was again. Another set of footstep. He lied to me! He promised. He promised. Scrunching is eyes to keep the tears from falling. He had to think of a way out of this. If he was caught….they would send him back. He never wanted to back there. He missed his family, missed is father but if his father got a hold of him…he would be sent back. Death first. He would rather die dirty on the forest floor than return to the prison his father sent him.

What little light shone in through the opening of the lean-to became obscured by the frame of his friend. His shadow providing additional darkness giving his eyes relief from the all too bright world. "Legolas? Are you hurt?" His hand reached out to check his friend for injuries. Sighing as he found the only moisture was sweat. "I was worried about you. Why didn't you come out?"

Green slits gazed hazily as his cotton mouth tried for form words. "You lied to me. Who is here?"

The stab at his honor was more than justifiable. He should have known better than to think he could out smart his friend. After so many times, over and over again. Swearing he would ever breathe a word of his friend's existences, he brought his father right to him. "I'm sorry. He wouldn't let me leave after the orcs attacked and I was worried. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. But you are not ok. You're sick. Please, let us help you."

"They are going to send me back."

"No, they won't. I won't let that happen. You have to trust me."

"Just like I trusted you before? Please, leave. I don't want to see you anymore."

Where did the fire go? All the passion from before seamed to be doused in sweat leaving only smoke in their remains. This was not the Legolas him came to know. Had his existence been reveled before, words barely fitting for a child to know would have been tossed. Their raised voices would have been audible to the shire. But these words were barely a whisper. Even if his friend never wanted to see him again, Gimli knew he made the right choice. "If you don't want to see me again, ok. But I am not going to let you die."

"Who is to say when I am brought back, I won't die there?"

"No father-"

"Who said anything about my father?"

Gimli had always assumed his friend feared his father but if not him then who? Shaking his head he needed to focus. First things first. Get his friend the help he needs whether he likes it or not. Gently grasping, the slender wrist, he tried pulling his friend up right to no avail. "Please, get up."

"No!" If this was how everything was going to end, it would be without his help.

"I'm not trying to hurt you. If there is someone you are hiding from, we can hide you. Just…look you might not trust me and that's ok but can you at least live to not trust me. Something is really, really wrong with you and if we don't find out what…" He could live with his friend's anger on his conscience but not his death.

Maybe it would be better to die. No one would know the truth and his friend would forget all about him. But a small voice buried deep with in his mind seemed to call out. Don't give up. It isn't too late. No, it was too late, wasn't it. Looking over at his friend, the usually relaxed features seemed to be pulled tautly as he fought against all other emotions. No, his friend would never forget him. No matter how hard he tried, Legolas would always live in Gimli's memories. There was no escaping this.

"I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you." A gruff voice grumbled.

"What?"

How could explain how he felt when he barely understood these feelings himself? Somewhere deep inside him he felt the center of his universe shift again just like it had that night they kissed. He remembered old stories of deep loving feeling and how a person could become another's center. Their world. Weather this feeling would last, Gimli didn't know but for now, his boy was his center and he would protect him. "You really mean a lot to me."

Something in those fathomless eyes seemed to awaken his sense of survival. Regardless of what the future held, he had to face it with grace and dignity fitting a prince. Weather it was to the altar or to an execution platform. Right now, it was neither. A way to hover in between them and float away. This could be his escape but only if he was brave enough to take it.

"I swear on the lives of my kin, I will protect you."

It was then he grasped the reaching hand to help pull himself up.

Outside in the clearing, Gloin saw his son help the elf boy out of the pitiful excuse of a shelter. Shit. An elf. It had to be an elf. Carefully schooling his features, he approached the boys trying hard not to startle them. Watching for any sudden moves, he grasped the child as his legs gave out and he lost the battle for consciousness. Shit.

Kili was convinced it was some kind of trick as he watched Frodo lay out their snack. Even though he knew the hobbit was nothing if not honest, he still felt a twinge of suspicion. Years of being told to "watch out" and "they will only care for you if they know who you are", echoed in his mind. But those thoughts couldn't be true. Not about his friends. They were still friends, weren't they?

Even though Sam kept his distance more than usual, Kili could tell he was still trying to make conversation even though it was more fuddled than normal. "Stop. Just stop." He sighed trying not to loss his temper. He had already made a fool out of himself in front of his older brother and there was no way he was going to do the same in front of his friends.

Much to his relief, Sam did shut his mouth for a moment before he breathed out what Kili had come to know as his response to most things. "I'm sorry."

Kili's eyes sank to the ground. Sam only desired to make him more at ease and here he was rebuffing those gentle attempts. Something about Sam's mannerisms struck a cord with him. He couldn't quiet put his finger on it but something bothered him. Something familiar.

"You don't have to apologize, Sam." Fili slung his arm around Sam's neck bringing him close for a noggy. "Things are just a bit off for us right now. Nothing for you to be sorry about though. Not your fault." Behind his smile, Fili sent Kili a silent glare warning him to be nice.

Frodo could see the wheels turning in Kili's head. Sam actions…there was something he saw before. Frodo know where it was from but did not wish to part with that wisdom. Wisdom must be found not given. But watching the three of them or to be more exact watching Sam's crest fallen face, he might change his mind.

Nibbling on a biscuit, Kili continued to pounder this strange familiar feeling in his stomach. He knew he felt it before, but when? Where? Would his brother know? Before he had a chance to ask, the thumping of a rapid set of feet rumbled towards them.

Sliding to a stop and nearly toppling over the picnic goers, Ori tried to regain his balance before he finally falling face first to the ground.

"Ori, are we going to have to keep you from falling all over yourself again?" Fili laughed helping their friend up.

Catching his breath, Ori tried laughing but only wheezing came out. For a moment, they feared his sickness had returned. "I'm sorry. But I had to tell you. It's about Gimli!" As Ori launched into his story, Kili finally remembered.

Bilbo looked over his desk full of half written correspondence and groaned as he wanted to go to sleep and put off his writing to another day. He was emotionally exhausted after his ordeal with Thorin even though everything turned out apples, it did not negate the toll it took on him. And now, once again, his home was being used as a hospital. Not that he minded, after all, any little bit he could do. When he asked Oin why the patient couldn't stay in his home, Oin felt Bilbo's was much safer. It wasn't until he saw the patient did he understand.

A child. An elf child. Surely, none of the dwarves would hurt such a small thing but after everything that happened today, emotions were running high and Oin didn't want to take a chance. Besides, Oin tried to reason with Bilbo, the hobbit knew a bit about elves so he might be able to help with any cultural misunderstandings. Once again, Bilbo was thrust into the role of peacemaker and protector.

Looking once more at the letter he decided he had been a hermit for too long this day and needed someone companionship or at least to play host to a living room full of dwarves again.

As luck would have it, only one seemed to be in his living room at the moment giving him the company but the ease of relaxation. "Oi, Bilbo. Ya should just turn yar home into the local clinic and be done with it!" Bofur's hat swayed from side to side as he laughed.

"Perhaps I should." Bilbo sighed as he settled into his arm chair. Bofur was good company, never once was he forced to put on a show for him or entertain. The dwarf was more than capable of entertaining everyone else in the room giving Bilbo a chance to cloister himself.

"So…" Bofur winked at his friend trying and failing to be discreet as he pointed at Thorin walking around the smial with his tools.

"That? Told him he would have to work his way back into my good graces. He's starting by changing the locks."

"Ah! And when will he be back on ya right side?"

"I don't know. How much do you think I can get him to do?"

Their soft chuckles filled the air as they once again settled back into conversation about their friends. A rock formed in his stomach as he thought about his less than congeal way he handled the entire situation. It was not his moment of shining glory but it seemed everyone else had been too worried about the fall out to even think about Bilbo's reaction. Between Nori nearly being taken into custody…again and finding an elven child in the woods, the love life of the king was the furthest thing from their minds.

Speaking of the child… "Bilbo, do ya know why the lad was there? I asked Gloin but he hadn't a clue."

Bilbo was at a lose as well. Children ran away for all sorts of reasons. Some more apparent than others, but whatever the reason, the lad would not part from his secret, nor would Gimli, if he ever knew. Looking down the winding hall of the smial, where the "sick room" was now located, he wished to be a fly on the wall. What could be going on down there? Oin promised to tell their host after he finished examining the child. But something about this didn't sit right with him. Just a feeling.

What could be taking so long? Maybe I should have told my father sooner. Gimli slumped down against the wall adjacent from the sick room door. Despite all of his hollering and protesting, his uncle refused to let him go in with his friend. Nothing Gimli could do would change the dwarf's mind and nothing his father could do would make him move. So there he sat vigil for his friend hoping for some word. What he didn't expect was the slamming of the door.

Oin swung the door open yanking it for all it's worth and with just as much force slamming it hard enough for the pictures to shake on the walls. Glaring around him, he spotted his shell shocked nephew plastered against the wall both trying to stand his ground and trying to blend into the wood. "You!" He pointed a thick finger out. "Should have known better!"

"I-" Before Gimli could defend himself from whatever his uncle was talking about, he had stomped away leaving Gimli to pounder his uncle's foul mood.

By the time Gloin caught up to his older brother he was just as confounded as the rest of the party. Bilbo and Bofur froze when they heard Oin stomp out of the smial forcing them the sink lower into their respective spots trying to avoid his notice. Neither could understand what cause such a volatile eruption of anger. Gimli, the poor boy, thought it was his fault for befriending an elf, but Oin wouldn't have flown off the handle because of that. No, there was something else and Gloin was determined to find out what.

Finally, stopping to catch his breath, he watched his older brother swing his axe splitting log clean in half. Firewood. Was all this over firewood? Clearing his throat much louder than normal, he waited for his brother to acknowledge his existences.

One minute passed then another but still his brother did not answer. Cautiously, he proceeded, hoping that he was loud enough not to startle Oin. It wouldn't be the first time he ended up on the wrong side of his brother's weapon.

"If some one is ignoring you, it's called a "hint", stupid." Oin's gruff voice forced Gloin to pause his steps.

"I never could take a hint." Gloin knew his brother's temper better than anyone else. Having seen it growing up and been on the receiving end more than once this calmer rage stirred something foul deep in his soul. Oin's rage usually exploded like a volcano fast and furious but not this time. His rage oozed and flowed, seeping slowly enough to avoid harming any innocent bystanders. But the Oin he knew had to be right below the surface.

"Leave."

"Huh?"

"I wish to be alone…please."

Oin never asked for peace, he always demanded it. What the hell happened in that room? That was the only explanation Gloin could think of. He was normal before examining the elf now he is almost a shell of his former self. For what Gloin could tell, the elf never regained consciousness and if he had passed, surely Oin would have had the decency to tell everyone. Could it be his age? Gloin shook the thought from his mind. Sadly, Oin had his hands covered in the blood of the young before but he never acted this strange? Gloin cast aside the notion of it being an elf. No, that wasn't it. He was running out of ideas. "I shall leave you alone but only if you tell me what ails you."

It was only by shear luck he was able to dodge a split log his brother hurled at his head.

Legolas' fingers ran across the cool sheet as he tried to steady his breathing. I can't let them know I am awake. I just can't. His mind tried to remember where he was. He was back at the beginning or somewhere else. Carefully, he listened for any sound. If he was in a bed surely there would be people in the dwelling. A sharp in take caused him to relax a fraction. Gimli…he would know that dwarf from everyone else in the world.

"Legolas?"

He must have moved a little too much to be pretending to be asleep. Giving up the pretense of sleep, he opened one of his emerald eyes. Scanning his surround, he was pleased to find he was nowhere elvish. But form what he knew of dwarves and their homes, there seemed to be a disconnect. "Where am I?" He crooked.

A glass of cool water found its way into his hands. "You're in the shire. Remember I told you I lived there."

"Oh. Is this your home?"

"No. It's Mister Baggins'. My uncle wanted to bring you here. Not sure why since our home is also has a sick room."

"A sick room?"

"Yeah. My uncle is a healer and after you passed out, he wanted to make sure you were ok. Are you ok?" Gimli watched all the color draining from his friend's face. His hands holding the now empty glass seemed to shake with trepidation as his breathing became rapid. He could almost see Legolas' heart trying to escape from his ribcage.

"I must speak with your uncle."

"Really, you feeling ok?" If Legolas needed a healer, he was out of luck. His uncle had yet to return and given his mood there was no telling when he would be back. "I can try to find someone to look at you but-"

"No! It must be him." No, no no. This wasn't happening!

Getting up from the chair the, he made his way to the door. "He's not here. Look, give me a minute and I'll find someone."

"Gimli, I am fine. I just needed to speak to him. He will understand." Maybe…

"Not likely, he's not the most understanding person."

"I think he understands more than he lets on."

Slumping back in his chair, Gimli couldn't find fault in his friend's logic. Since arriving at the shire, new life was given to the elder. His temper while still fierce was tempered as his life was now given new direction. Maybe he could help. "Not sure when he'll be back. Something pissed him off. I don't remember last time I saw him like this."

Legolas could only look down as he played with a loss thread from the soft bedding. When was the last time he slept safely in a bed? "I'm sorry." He knew it was his fault.

"Don't be." A gentle hand rested on his shoulder nudging him to recline against the pillows. "You just rest. I'll be here if you need anything."

Bifur had just put his cousins to bed when he heard a deafening knock on their front door. The sun had just begun to set illuminating the small foyer with reddish light, leaving him to want a peaceful evening. But when the knock echoed again, he had to answer. Sighing, he grasped the handle hoping whoever was the caller was did not bring terrible news. He had enough excitement for one day and wanted to go to sleep sooner rather than later. But seeing his friend provided the much needed energy to forge on.

"* Oin, what are you doing here?*" Bifur heard rumors of a new "guest" at Bag End. Had something gone terribly wrong? Oin usually seemed in control, or whatever on might call it, but now with his eyes slightly clouded, he look more like a vagabond seeking refugee from a never ending storm.

Not even saying a word, Oin pushed his way passed his friend to collapse himself into a kitchen chair. He needed company, someone who would let him come to terms with things in this own time. His brother and everyone else made demands "What happened?" "Why won't you tell us what is going on?" Not Bifur. Never Bifur. A warm cup of tea magically appeared in front of him. Chamomile… he thought bitterly. He needed something stronger than tea. Or what Bifur called tea.

Bifur watched out the window as twilight turned to dusk and dusk in to night. The tea, untouched for the most part, cooled to match the surrounding temperature. Undrinkable, in Bifur's option, but he was not willing to take it away not when he could tell his friend needed it.

"You haven't asked me why I'm here." Oin grumbled into his cup taking a sip of the tepid liquid.

"*I figure you will tell me when you are ready.*"

"And if I am never ready?"

"*Then I will never know.*" Bifur never pushed. Pushing only made things worse. Give someone enough time and they will come to you.

With the light clank of the tea cup Bifur braced himself for whatever haunted Oin. "I've seen so much. Bodies burnt to a crisp, heads severed from their bodies, sickness that can make anyone's stomach turn. But this…there is evil in this world, Bifur, and I don't think this is something I can handle."

"*You know, you are not alone. We are here for you. I am here for you.*"

"This…this is different. I knew about it. I've heard about it. Treated in so few times, thank Mahal, but…a child. I can't-" His hands were all over now. His face, throat, hair. All trying to come to terms with what he knew.

"*Have you talked to your patient?*"

"No. The poor thing was out when I left. I'm…nervous about how to approach him. I'm… not good at this sort of thing." His beside manner being his weakest skill as a healer never impacted his work but now it was needed.

His callused hand rested lightly on Oin's trying to channel all of his inner strength. "*Let him talk and you just listen. You don't need to always have to say something. A kind ear, remember?*"

How the fuck did Bifur get so fucking wise? Maybe it was the axe blade in his head. Must be channeling Mahal or something. Either way, Bifur was right and Oin knew if he ever needed a place to escape to, Bifur's door was always open.

Quietly, Oin snuck back into Bag End to see his patient. He could have let it wait till morning but something told him the boy would prefer not to have everyone breathing down his neck when they talked. Where should he start? Come out and say what he knows? Demand answer? Or would the quiet approach be better? Let the boy come to him? Fuck! Bifur made it seem so easy. Maybe he should drag Bifur out of bed to handle this.

Entering the bedroom, he was heart jumped to his throat as a pair of green eyes peered through the darkness. Fuck! He had prayed to boy would be asleep. Speaking of asleep…Turning he saw Gimli curled up with a pillow and blanket nest on the floor near the sick bed.

"He wouldn't leave." He whispered just loud enough for Oin to hear but not enough to wake his friend. "Nothing his father could do would make him leave. It was sort of funny watching him try. Gimli nearly dragged the bed across the floor refusing to let go."

That sounded just like his nephew and his brother. Neither one willing to give an inch. The only reason his nephew was still in the room was more than likely thanks to Mister Baggins. "How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?" He tried to keep his voice down and calm, the last thing he needed was for his nephew to wake up.

Seeing the dwarf in front of him, all courage and previous dedication to the desired conversation fled. Trying to make himself smaller and perhaps even gain some pity, he nuzzled his face to the pillow with a slight yawn. "I'm tired. That's all." Please let sleeping dogs lay.

"Really?" Oin folded his thick arms across his chest not believing a word. He dealt with difficult patients before and he could tell this boy would be another one. But unlike the others, the rage of rebuttal was a different type of burn. More like an ember than a fire and needed to be handled accordingly.

"Do you think I am lying?"

"Yes." Oin let the boy marinate in his own thoughts as he tried to move his nephew to the far corner of the room. Obviously, his patient wanted to keep his voice down but Mahal was it hard to hear him. As he lifted the boy's body from the floor, slight chills ran down his spine. His patient was watching him, he could feel those emerald eyes on him, waiting.

Leaving Gimli in the corner all curled up in a nest like when he was a very small child, Oin tried to start the dreaded conversation but was beaten to the punch.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" Such a forlorn voice broke his heart. No child should have such a voice. Turing around made it even worse. Curtains of blonde tresses shielded emerald eyes down cast to the blanket not wishing to show the fear they held.

Oin wished to take the boy into his arms and let him cry but how much would he want to be touched? He didn't want to scare the poor thing. Plopping down on bedside chair, he tried to regain control of his growing anger. Storming out this time was not an option. "No one knows."

"Good."

They listen to the music of the night accompanied by the soft snoring of his nephew. Oin didn't want to ask. Really, he didn't but he needed to know who. "Lad-"

"If I tell you, who will you tell?" Gimli seemed to trust his uncle, so why shouldn't he. For all the stories of his foul temper, Oin seemed to truly care about his wellbeing. Gimli asked for trust, maybe it was time to let someone in on his secret.

"Whatever you tell me, I will take to my grave." This was it.

Dwarves…always so dramatic. Uncle like nephew. "I don't know if my father knew this would happen. I hope not. But…"

The chirping of morning birds echoed through the room as Gimli tried to turn back over. "Noisy birds…" he muttered under his breath burrowing his face into the soft blanket. Wiggling a bit, he tried to remember when his bed became so hard. Sure, it was never the softest thing in the world like the beds at Bag End but never this hard. As a hand snaked out from underneath the blanket feeling the hard wood floors did he remember the events of last night. "Legolas!" He shot up from his nest ignoring the creaks in his back as he scrabble towards the bed.

He needed to make sure his friend was alright. Looking over him, the color in his pale face seemed to return to the undertone of natural pink as the fever was no longer an issue. "Stupid elf…" he grumbled. "Makes me worry."

"Stubborn dwarf, waking me up." Ever through the ebbing hazy of sleep, there was a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes.

Gimli's hand reached up to give him a well deserved shove only to push back a few stray blond strands. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

Last night, Oin explained how close Legolas had come to death. He explain how his body had gone septic and was being poisoned by bacteria which found their way into his blood stream. Had he not received help when he did, he would not have been part of this world for much longer. A rosier color brushed across his face. "A bit sick, but much better. Gimli…you saved my life."

"I did?"

"I…didn't know how sick I really was."

He desperately wanted to know what made his friend sick but there was something stopping him. Maybe it was fear of losing whatever innocence he had left or maybe it was his inability to help Legolas in his time of need until the very end. "I'm just glad you are feeling better."

"Stop being stupid." Legolas lightly bopped Gimli on a head with his fist. "I know what you are thinking. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this. We didn't even know each other. Others knew and did nothing. You…I can only image what you might have done. Or what would have happened to you." What will happen to you…

"I would have protected you." From what, he still wasn't too sure but no one hurt someone he loved and got away with it.

"Gimli…" leaning forward, Legolas brought their brows together enjoying the natural warmth he felt for another body. "I-"

"Are we interrupting anything?" Turning around, Gilmi's eyes narrowed as he spotted his cousins, the young master of Bag End, the gardener's son and the group's artist. They really did have the worst timing. His cousins all cheek and grinning from ear to ear at the tender scene. He would never live it down.

Looking back at Legolas, he decided to take his leave. Legolas was safe with these loons. Crazy as the day was long but harmless. Right now, he needed to find Dwalin and talk about training.

They had never seen an elf in person before, not even Frodo and sadly the poor thing was being bombarded with hundreds of questions from "where did he live?" to "what was his favorite food?". It was only when Fili noticed the tired look in his eyes, did he pull his brother away hoping to give their new friend some space. They needed to talk any way before Merry arrived later in the day.

Once out of prying eyes and ears, Fili leaned close whispering, "What has gotten into you?"

"What do you mean?" He hadn't been acting any differently. Maybe a bit quieter.

Fili always watched Kili like a hawk. Always making sure he was safe and protected. Any slight difference was enough to make his stomach do flip flops. "You've been acting strange since the picnic. I know you, Kee. Something is going on."

Oh…that. "Nothing."

"Nothing my foot! Tell me what's wrong. I want to help."

Fili always wanted to help. He was his loving older brother after all but something he needed to deal with on his own. "Fee… I just need to be on my own."

"But you are not! I'm here. We always help each other out." Come hell or high water, they were a team and nothing was going to change that.

"I know but not this time. If I do need help, I'll ask. I promise." While Fili didn't look at all convinced but he knew he'd better drop it or lose more of his brother's confidence. Maybe this was what they meant by growing up.

He licked his lips trying to catch his breath. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Had he bit his tongue to stay quiet or nipped his check when the fist hit him. It really didn't matter too much either way. He needed to get clean up before his cousin found him. He didn't think he could stand the lost look in those eyes one more time.

Hoisting himself up off the floor, he hobbled to the washroom trying to clean up. He prayed the damage wasn't as severe as he thought. Each breath sent fire through his body making him wish to stop.

Two days in a row…he prayed it wouldn't be three.

And they keep piling up. Bilbo thought morosely as he stared at the pile of unopened mail. Friends from all over had been writing to him eager to hear news of this latest chapter in life. He knew he should have kept Thorin a secret a tad bit long. But the thought of having someone new in his life was too exciting to keep to himself, especially from one of his oldest friend's. Last letter he could think of read, he mentioned a visit sometime in the summer but never specifying when. Typical. Elves have all the time in the world.

Sighing again, he picked through the mail to find the most recent letter post marked a week ago. Grinning, he could only hope to hear good news about his daughter and adopted son or whatever he was. Every letter contained a bit of this and that of their lives making him more of a man and less of a myth. He seemed to like it that way. While other elves preferred to look down among mortals, Elrond preferred to mingle saying it made the centuries warm with life.

As he read the letter scanning for anything time sensitive, he stumbled on the last line. I shall see you in a week's time my friend. A week's time…if this was sent last week…Oh dear.

Rushing from the room, he scurried to find Thorin. This was not good. A child was one thing but Elrond…this could get ugly and fast. Thorin never hid his distain for some elves and Bilbo hoped the elves coming had not crossed his boyfriend.

Finding Thorin slumped on the couch; he knew there was no beating around the bush. Tell him and be done with it. "So." He stated loudly enough to catch his attention. "I finally caught up with my correspondence."

"Good for you." The nervous ticks in the hobbit were not a good sign whatever he had to say was not going to bold well for him or his sanity.

"Yes, well, here is the thing. You see…Some of the letters were from over a month ago and well…my not replay they took as a replay as a positive and-"

"You are talking in circles. Just get one with it!"

"We are going to have company soon."

"Soon? How soon?"

"Like tomorrow soon."

A large hand rubbed its way down Thorin's tired face. Couldn't they have waited until next week? Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. Was a break too much to ask for? "Bilbo!"

"Well, I'm sorry but things were a little busy around here and I forgot. Not to mention I didn't think he would travel all this way without hearing back from me. I would have thought elves had more patience than that." And here it comes…

"Elves! More elves are coming to the shire."

"Well excuse me. How was I to know one took refuge in the forest."

As the two continued to bicker back and forth, they completely misheard the rapping on the front door.

"Uncle Bilbo, the door." Frodo called from the other room. "Uncle? Thorin?" Looking at the two who were supposed to take care of him completely ignoring their would-be guest, Frodo walked over to the foyer. He would one day be master of Bag End someday, he might as greet people to his home. "Don't worry, I'll get it!"

"Get what, Frodo?" What was his nephew up to now?

Looking through the door frame was probably the tallest person he had ever seen. He didn't know the gods made people that tall. Frodo and his friends always giggled thinking Gandalf was the tallest person in the world and no one could come close to him. He tried not to stare, really he did but he didn't know people came in that size, even elves.

"Hello, you must be Frodo." He smiled putting his hand over his heart to bow. "I am Elrond and this is my daughter, Arwen, and adopted son, Aragorn."

Don't stare don't' stare don't stare. "Manners Frodo!" His uncle's voice called from beyond the foyer.

"Yes. Right. Do come in." He stepped aside to allowing his guests entrance. They were an interesting group, the three of them. Elrond, as tall as most trees with a faint smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Arwen, thankfully much shorter than her father, nearly eye level with him. Same with Aragorn. Both looked like they belonged roaming the wilds instead of any where remotely civilized.

As unexpected as their arrival was, perhaps it was fate which brought them there. "Frodo, why don't you show Arwen and Aragorn around. Elrond and I have something to discuss."

His group of friends just kept expanding. A little light began to glow within his heart as he lean the children to meet the others. Perhaps Bag End was where he truly belonged.

"I do hope this is alright, my friend." He smiled warmly at the hobbit trying to ease whatever tension caused his back to be straighter than an arrow. Hobbits…they were really were just rabbits without all the fur.

Elrond was a friend. Friends help each other even if it is only to listen to your ills. Taking a deep breath, he took a leap of faith. "The truth is I am not sure if your visit is fortuitous or not. Come and sit. I shall explain."

Even though he did want to help Bilbo he could not be but a bit more curious about the ambiguity of his letters. "And shall I be meeting this mysterious creature who has stolen your heart?"

That too was something completely unavoidable. Please don't let this all blow up in my face. "Right this way."

The slight grin fell from his face as his eye lay on the last person in Middle Earth he thought would be the cause of Bilbo delinquent letters. "Thorin?"

It had to be him. "Elrond."

"Oh! So, you two know each other. Well that saves us the trouble of introductions. Why don't the two of you get reacquainted while I fix us up something." This could either be very good or very bad. Either way, Bilbo needed to make himself scarce until after the fireworks. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much damage to his furniture.

Elrond could feel Thorin's blue eyes bore holes into his very soul as he tried to sit there calmingly smiling, hoping to easy the dwarf's anger. "I must say I am surprised to find you and your people in shire."

"It's not like we had anywhere else to go." He muttered. Elves…never trust them.

"What about the other lords? I am sure they would have been more than willing to give you refugee if you had asked." The sinking feeling of inaction on the part of ones' own kind weighted heavily on Elrond's mind. Surely their plea had not been rejected.

"They are not in the habit of taking in the poor and downtrodden. At least not all of us. Most of the nobility were able to seek refuge there but everyone else…"

Elrond schooled his features unsure if he should scowl at the lack of cooperation from the other dwarf lords or smile at Thorin's dedication to all his people. Thorin was a king in the truest sense of the word. He lived for his people, not the other way around. "And Thranduil -"

"Don't you dare mention that name to me!" He thundered clenching his fists to keep from hitting his guest.

Right. Thranduil had refused aid in their time of need when they were attacked. It was false hope to think he might want to assist them after the fact. But at least there was a light at the end of that very dark tunnel. "How has life been in the shire? Bilbo spoke about how your people were getting on but Bilbo might have over exaggerated like he does."

Bilbo did tend to do that. "We are getting by. The people for the most part treat us kindly and we are able to work together. Although I am not sure how much longer it keep up." It weighed heavily on his mind since his revel, if things could not go back to the way they were or something comparative, they would have to find a new home again.

"Oh?"

"I never told them who I was and now that they secret is out-"

A silver tray slammed on the wooden coffee table shaking the teapot and cups. "Give them time. It will be water under the bridge soon enough." Bilbo folded his arms glaring at Thorin. It was one thing for Bilbo to bring it up but quiet another for Thorin to dwell on the past.

"If you say so…"

Elrond had not clue what the under laying tension was but if he did not change the topic heated words might transpire. Topic change… "How is Frodo getting on? He seems to becoming more accustomed to Bag End."

"He is and I do have to thank you for your help earlier in his stay. I really thought I would lose him." Even after all the time had pasted the thought still sent shivers down his spine.

Caring for a child always brought out something in people. Either the best or the worst. In Bilbo's case, he put his heart and soul into caring for that boy and when the poor thing fell ill, Elrond did what he could to help his friend. "I'm glad the powder helped."

"It did and I must thank you for giving me so much. We were able to use it to help another."

So, that's where it came from. Thorin always wondered where Bilbo could have found such a powerful healing remedy. He was never given any explanation other than a friend gave it to him. Relaxing a tab, he watched as the conversation flowed between them about the little bits and pieces of their lives that never made it to paper.

"Father." The trio turned to see the elvish girl standing the sitting room. Her hands playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Yes, my dear."

"Legolas is here."

The whole story came spilling out of Bilbo's mouth in much the same fashion as a damn braking. Elrond, for his part could only stare at him wide eyed in amazement at how a small child was able to survive in the wilderness without much assistance. As well aquatinted with the outdoors as Arwen was, he didn't doubt she would have had trouble surviving.

"Your daughter seems to know who he is." Elrond sighed as Thorin delved for answers. If the princess knew who Legolas was then surly he was someone of consequence.

"And for good reason. All though I am shocked to find him here. As far from home."

"You are avoiding the question. Who is he?"

Elrond pondered lying to avoid an outburst but something told him the truth might be best. Thorin did not seem to have any ill will towards the boy and he hoped this would not change. "He is Legolas is the prince of Mirkwood. Thranduil's youngest son."

Before Thorin could comment, Bilbo burst in face a blaze. "Then what the hell was he doing in the woods by himself! Gimli said he ran away! What could cause a prince to do such a thing?"

As worldly as Bilbo was, he did not understand how treaties and royalty often conducted business. "Legolas no longer lives in Mirkwood. He now resides with a neighboring elf king with whom Mirkwood has a treaty."

Thorin eyes blinked as he tried to wrap his head around it. The boy was far too young to be married. Normally, the betrothed waited until they came of age to travel to their new homeland. What was going on? Why was even part of the treaty at all? Sometimes elves made no senses. Thankfully, Bilbo expressed his confusion. "I don't understand."

How to explain something that, to someone from another class, would sound like madness? "It is very common for treaties to be created with lives. Written in blood as some might say. A marriage between two royals can solidify treaties and insure years of tranquility. However, there are other ways. It is not uncommon for royalty to give up their children to neighboring lords as peace offering and symbols of the treaty. The thought it if the child's parents break the treaty, the child shall be kill."

"What!"

"Some who are given the child treat them kindly as if they were their own-"

"Like you do with Aragron." Now the boy's presence began to make sense. Elrond never full explained why he came to live with him, only it was for the best and would help all the kingdoms.

"…yes. But others see them as slaves. I can not even image what the boy must have gone through to run away and risk the treaty. Usually regardless of the treatment, the child will stay because of the repercussion between the kingdoms." Sweet child, what have they done to you?

Thorin folded his arms across his chest, his mind stile boggled by such a notion. But there were more important things to think about other than people's twisted notion of kingdom binding. "Now the question is, what to do about it."

"He's not going any where!" Gimli slammed the door behind him. Rivers of sweat matting his red hair to his face which nearly matched his hair. Glaring around the room, his eyes fell on Elrond. "You are not taking him back!" His knuckled tuned white as he gripped the handle of the small axe. He would kill this elf if he had to, no matter what he would keep his promise.

To everyone's credit, no one laughed at the sight of the diminutive dwarf sizing up the elf king. If anything, their eyes softened. "I would like to know what the trouble is. Perhaps you could explain it to me."

Gimli launched into his tale of how he found Legolas in the forest and swore to protect him. Even though he did not know exactly what the injures were, apparently they were life threatening. Elrond just studied the lad and listened not speaking a word. The boy was willing to fight for Legolas despite all their differences. Still, even with all his wisdom, he could not decide what to do.

"Gimli." His voice hushed. "What do you propose we do?"

"I…I don't know."

Everyone always thought elves possessed the best hearing but hobbits came in second best. Merry knew he was being nosy and his cousins would surely scold him for it but he needed to know what was happening with so little control over his own life he needed to hear others just as lost. Constantly, he was caught in the whirlpool of doubt and uncertain, almost like the waves were forcing him out to sea away from the safety of land. Dark knowledge and sworn secrets causing his soul to sink farther and farther to the bottom where very little light was able to reach.

Why did he hear crying? No, it wasn't him this time. Pressing his ear closer, he could hear Gimli start to sob. His mind picture the scene of a tearful dwarf child, eye red from tears with streaks of salty water running down his check. Most likely wiping his nose with the sleeve refusing to go anyone else.

"Gimli." Bilbo? Yes, it had to be him. "I am here if you wish to talk. As are the others. I can't imagine what you are feeling but I will help in anyway I can. You should know this." Bilbo eyes would be hold the same warmth and comfort they always did. Warm enough to comfort but not burn.

The room went silent or at least quiet enough so he could not hear anything. Merry waited until he was sure the coast was clear before he rose from behind the door. Bilbo always seemed to know what to do. Maybe he would have answers this time as well.

Treading lightly on the floor, Merry's heart skipped a beat as he found Bilbo alone in the kitchen making some tea. Clearing his throat, Bilbo turned.

"Oh! Merry, when did you get here? Frodo wasn't expecting you until later today."

It was now or never. If he waited, he might never have another chance. He would do this for Pip. "Bilbo, what do you do if you think someone is being hurt?"

Just a little more should do it. He was a traitor. Everything he every believed in, everything he stood for, every promise he ever made, gone. Secrets were meant to be kept never to see the light of day only now where force from the shadows under duress. No, he did the right thing. He stood up for himself. He stood up for the ones he loved. No one, not even his best friend could say other wise. What he did he did for love.

Now he needed his release. His release from everything. It was a mess habit and he needed to be careful. It wouldn't do to have his family find him bleeding to death on the bathroom floor.

To be continued….

See! I'm not dead and I have not abandoned this fic! Life just got in the way. Over the summer I was unemployed and hence depressed. September I got the job I wanted but it turned out to be extremely stressful to the point where I was coming home, doing more work then going to sleep. I wasn't even reading anything at the time! I just didn't have the energy. But in November my schedule changed slightly, so I was finally able to write again.

I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I didn't want to do a big revel with what happened to Legolas. I'm sure you have an idea of what happened. But the messed up part, royal actually did this with their children, trading them as symbols of peace and if the parents broke the treaty the children were executed! Not lying.

We have one more chapter to go before the epilogue. Yeah, it's coming to an end. The next song is "Breaking the Habit" by linkin park

"Stolen hearts" should be updated sometime this month.

While you are waiting for an update, may I recommend an awesome web comic called "Oh Human star". Check it out.

Till then, write on and live the write life.