Follow Your Heart…

Summary: Every member of the main races have a Soulmate, and ways to identify their One. Bilbo's always been different (the harsh Marks on his wrist demand so). That didn't change when the Fell Winter came, or when he received his Calling. Kili/Bilbo

Warnings: Gore. Gayness (obviously). Um…children/tweens in danger. Scars. I guess slightly OOC!bilbo, but only cus he's more badass here. Think that's it, but…could be bad language?

Prompt: Soulmates

A/N: okay, so this is the third fic of my 30 fic OTP challenge. It's very late, I know, but my dad was in hospital from quite a while, and I actually had this done, but I just never got round to posting it. Anyway, I don't really have anything to say right now, except that I may continue this as a multi-chap later, but I'm doing some other fics first.

…Follow Your Dreams

All of Middle-Earth's races have a way to identify their One. Men feel a tug, while Elves dream of songs and things to describe their One. Dwarrow and Hobbits are the most complex. The Dwarrow's way can be looked upon as a blessing or a curse, for they Dream from the moment their One is born...they Dream of sections of their One's life. Snippets of good and bad, some end in grey then black, while others...don't happen at all. The Hobbit's way is the most mysterious, for they have a Word for their One, and a Symbol to describe that person, inscribed on their left wrist from the moment their One is born. The Word and Symbol start in brown, then- once they find their One- it will burn and settle in black, and if their One dies before them, then it will burn harshly before forming a jagged scar. One of the most extraordinary things about this race, is that Hobbits are Bound to their One from the moment they're born; so if they are destined for one outside their race, they will have a lifespan like that of their One, and age with the other person. This means that, even if born years apart, a Hobbit will always age at the same rate as their One, and will even sometimes stop ageing until their One catches up to them.

Each way is different, yet one thing is the same: they all feel a Calling to create a Gift for their One at some point in their life. Men do after they find their One; Elves, after their One is of age; Dwarrow, once they, themselves are of age; and Hobbits, a month before they will meet their One.

Bilbo Baggins was a strange child. He aged differently to the other Hobbit children; almost closer to a Dwarf's ageing, but just a bit faster. He was filled with Wanderlust and the thirst for adventure. Then, there was his Soul Mark. Instead of being written in the sacred and secret language of Hobbits, the Word on his wrist was carved with harsh runes of some kind. His Symbol showed what could only be a sign for royalty, and a warrior: the simple crown with the plain arrow streaking through it made that clear enough.

His mother, Belladonna Baggins nee Took, was joyful at this for it meant that her only child would live a long life and would be able to follow his dreams of adventure. She recognised the runes inscribed on his wrist. They were Dwarven runes which she had seen on her travels. Bella had written to her friend, Bofur, in the Blue Mountains and asked to know what the runes said. The Dwarf had agreed since he could not stand in the way of Ones finding each other. He had said that the closest thing in Westron was Durinson, and explained to her about Durin the Deathless, and how it didn't really narrow the search down much as a lot of Dwarrow were related to Durin. Eventually, they laid the issue to rest, knowing that they would meet one day.

Thorin was worried when Kili first started having Dreams; they started decades after he was born and indicated that his nephew's One was not a Dwarf. Kili Dreamt of rolling hills, whispering trees, and little rivers. A place far too green and peaceful for any Dwarrow. Kili's One was not a Dwarf, but Thorin thanked Durin that Fili's was. It meant that Kili would not be forced to marry for the good of the kingdom, and Fili would be able to find and marry his Dwarven One, producing the heirs that Erebor sorely needed. Both his sistersons could be happy with their Vala-chosen Ones.

Bilbo always wondered when he would meet his One: what they'd be like, if they'd have as much hair as Dwarrow were said to have, if he could be taught Khuzdul after the Bonding and marriage, if they could go on adventures together. He often wandered and wished that his One would come and sweep him up to take him running on adventures.

That wishing and wondering stopped when the Fel Winter came.

Kili always wondered where his One lived; all his Dreams were of a peaceful and fruitful land, nothing like he'd ever seen in person before. He knew that his One was not a Dwarf; it was painfully obvious from the beings in his Dreams. He just thanked Mahal that they were not Elves, for that would have caused a fuss with the councils, even if said Elf was Kili's One. He was also glad to see the adventurous spirit his One possessed; it meant that he would not have to slow down, once married.

Kili was glad for many things concerning his One and where they lived. The thing he was most thankful for, though, was that they lived in such a peaceful place. His One would not be hurt by the outside world, even when Kili could not watch over them.

That thankfulness, however, ended during one harsh winter.

It was dark. Dark and cold. So, so cold. The wind lashed at him, snow dropped from the sky, and a deathly howl split the air...

The figure stilled, they gripped the spading fork tighter and looked around. The white drops from the sky were beginning to cover the red and black staining the ground. They heard a soft crunch behind them and whipped around. Glowing orange eyes stared back. Teeth dipped in blood flashed through black lips as the...thing growled.

The child swallowed. The beast jumped. They raised their weapon. The animal landed on the child. Everything fell into darkness. It was black.

Kili screamed as he bolted up right, breaking out of the Dream. Fili, Thorin and Dis came charging into his room with Dwalin just behind. Tears streamed down Kili's eyes as he babbled about his Dream. His brother sat on the bed behind him and pulled him into a hug. Dwalin left the room as Thorin bowed his head, Dis sitting beside her boys and trying to comfort Kili.

Bilbo pushed the body off himself and stood on shaking legs. He listened to the screams and howls and screeches of beast and Hobbit alike.

His mother had told him to run

He pulled the spading fork from the large wolf's carcass.

His father had given him shoes

He looked to the forest.

His mother had tied a scythe at his hip

He took a deep breath.

His father had placed a fur coat on his shoulders

He looked at what was left of his home.

His mother had given him gloves and the spading fork

Fires burnt the bodies of the fallen Hobbits.

His father had put a bag on his back

He turned his gaze back to the forest.

His parents had kissed him, "run!" they had said, "and don't look back!"

And that's what he did.

He hadn't got far, when another beast jumped out of nowhere and pushed the boy onto his back. The beast grabbed his right shin in his mouth, trying to drag him away. The boy started kicking at its face with his other foot. His heel caught its eye and the beast whimpered and released his leg. The child thrust the spading fork at the wolf, managing to jam it into the wolf's neck. He pulled the weapon out and ran for the forest; climbing one of the biggest trees he could find. He sat amongst the branches, late into the night, clutching the bloodstained steel to his chest.

Bilbo woke as the sun rose and light filtered in, between the treetops. The snow had paused in its near constant assault on the Shire, allowing sunlight to peak through the heavy clouds for the first time in a month. The new light was somewhat blinding as it reflected off the crystal powder around him. His shin throbbed at him from where the wolf had bitten him. Crimson blood was slowly starting to show through the bandage he had wrapped around the wound last night. The boy pulled some clean bandages and some paste (to prevent infections) from his bag, which hung on a branch above him. He took a deep breath and began to unwind the old bandages from his leg. He winced as the cloth stuck to the thick blood. Bilbo put the dirty bandages away to wash in case he needed them later. He removed his gloves and began to wipe the blood away with a wet tissue. He remembered everything his Ma had taught him about first aid, and he was putting it to good use now.

Once his wound was as clean as he could make it, he scooped out some herb paste and rubbed it into his wound, biting his cheek to keep himself from crying out. He ignored the whimpers that escaped his lips and finished the job, trying to be a big boy. Putting the paste away, he wiped his hands on another wet tissue, before grabbing the clean bandages. Bilbo wrapped the bite up tightly, like he had been taught, but not tight enough to hinder his movement. He tied it off at the bottom, before pulling his boot back on.

The boy found himself thankful for those leather contraptions because not only was it extremely cold, but the bite could have been so much worse if the wolf's teeth hadn't gone through the leather first.

The Hobbit looked around, assessing his surroundings and searching for danger. When he found the forest clear, he grabbed his bag and began his descent from the tree.

His Pa had said that the wolves were attacking their smial, and that they were going to the Great Hall for shelter. But then the orcs came and Bilbo was told to run. He was meant to head for the Great Hall, but the way was blocked by Orcs and wolves. So Bilbo ran for the forest.

The sun was shining now, though, so he should be able to make it to shelter before the beasts found him. If he hurried.

Limping his way through the forest, with only a stick he'd found for support, hurt like hell. But, he was determined to make it back to Bag End to find his parents, before heading to the Great Hall.

Kili would not come out of his room. No matter what anyone did, Kili would just sit in his bed, trying to stay awake. Even if he was sure his One had survived, he was still scared that he would not Dream again. And despite the fact that he had never met his One, he still cared deeply for them, whoever they were (he was pretty sure that their name was 'Bilbo' and guessed that they were male, but he wouldn't make assumptions).

Fili was worried for his brother; Kili hadn't eaten since the last Dream, and he wouldn't sleep either, afraid that the darkness would take him too. No matter what Fili or their Amad did, they could not cheer the youngest Durin up. Give him time, people said, the lose is still fresh, still hurting, he'll be fine in a few years. But there was always a look of doubt in their eyes when people said that, because everyone knew, once your One was dead, you did not recover.

Three days of staying forcefully awake later, Kili was dropped into oblivion as his body and mind shut itself down.

They were back in Bag End now, holed up against the raging of the blizzard outside. The snows had stopped for two days, and people thought (prayed) that the winter was over. But it was not. The respite was over and the cold was back with no remorse. The beasts of the night were now raiding the Shire during the day, as well, since the thick snow clouds blocked out the sun.

They were huddled in the living with their parents, blankets piled around them and a fire lit in front of them. The wood stores were running low, and so was the food. Their father was beginning to fall ill, and their mother had dropped into a deep sleep after many nights of watchfulness. They knew they had to do something, for their parents sake.

With a surety which came from tween foolishness, Bilbo stood and made their way to the cupboard. They pulled out their boots, gloves, coat and backpack, along with some knives. After they put on their clothes, they situated the knives at their hips and put the bag on their back. A length of rope was quickly shoved into the bag, after some thought. Shutting the cupboard, they walked over to their mother's glory box, pulling out her throwing knives and her best pair of daggers. A dagger was placed in each boot, and the throwing knives were strapped to their shoulder blades. They grabbed their walking staff, before heading for the door. They were ready.

Bilbo closed their eyes and took a deep breath. They pulled the door open and stepped out into the raging storm.

They shut the door behind them and slunk around in the shadows, to look for food and watch for the enemy. Their sharp ears picked up the sound of paws crunching on snow and they stilled. They withdrew their dagger and looked down from the hill they were on. There, sniffing at the corpse of an Orc, was a white wolf. Holding their dagger in one hand, they took a breath and jumped from the hill. They landed on the wolf, pushing it to the ground, before reaching round and slitting its throat. This was what he needed. Fresh meet. A habit that Hobbits had left over from the Wandering Days: whenever they got too hungry, they would do whatever it took to eat again. That's why their canines are so sharp; they can tear into the throats of creatures and feast straight from the body. Of course, Hobbits prefer cooked meet, nowadays, but at times like this, the urge for blood comes back.

Bilbo sheathed his blade, before turning the wolf's body over. He used snow to pack the gapping neck wound, which still slowly oozed blood. The wolf was dead, but the crimson liquid would drew the attention of other beasts. They pulled the rope from their bag, and tied one end around the wolf. They quickly, but quietly, made the trek back to their smial and opened the door, rushing inside. Shutting the door behind them, they removed their unnecessary layers and picked the wolf up. Even if it was bigger then him, Bilbo was determined to do this, and so, they slowly made their stumbling way into the kitchen.

They placed the carcass onto the table and fetched the skinning knife from the drawer. Their Ma had been teaching them how to do this since before they could remember. After skinning the wolf, they put the skin to the side, to do something with later, and faced the carcass. They worked silently and efficiently to pulled off everything they could make use of. The bones and teeth were set to one side as well; they could make bone marrow stew from the bones, and some necklaces with the teeth.

There wasn't much flesh left over, and it seemed that even the wolves were staving. They put the edible meat in the bare cold pantry, before cleaning the blood up. Bilbo quickly boiled some water and scrapped together a wolf meat and herb soup for the family in Bag End. Once they were done, they made their way back to the living room. The set the tray of bowls on the coffee table, before going back to the kitchen for water and their own food.

They woke their parents and told the pair that they'd managed to find some food down in the cellar. Neither of their parents questioned them, though their Ma did look questioning. The family enjoyed the meal, despite the fact that Bungo was ill and the food was rather bland. But it was food and it was a warm comfort against the harsh winter winds. Their parents soon drifted back to sleep as they took the utensils to the kitchen and set about cleaning the place up.

The cutlery was washed and put away, before the skin of the wolf was cleaned off. They started to treat the skin, to make it into a fur coat for one of their parents. The skin was left to soak in the special room their Ma had for tanning leather and such, while they made their way back to the kitchen and started on the bones. The marrow was put in a tub and placed in the cold pantry, and the teeth were cleaned up. After that was done, they retreated back to the living room with their sketch pad, some charcoal, and the teeth. They eventually drifted off the sleep, while drawing the designs for various outfits.

Kili woke with a start, but after he realised what had happened, he grinned from ear to ear. He had Dreamed! His One was alive! And they killed a wolf in order to feed their family! He was ecstatic.

By the end of the Fell Winter, three months later (making it a five month long winter), Bilbo had killed many wolves and even an Orc. He was saved from having to go out again, a month before the end of the winter, when the Rangers and Gandalf came to provide food for the Hobbits. Need less to say, Gandalf was surprised to see Bilbo's scars when the Wizard stopped at Bag End.

The Istar did as much as he could for Bilbo's scars and Bungo's sickness, but magic can only do so much. Bilbo's scars were often painful, and Bungo succumbed to the illness, in the end. Belladonna Faded some years later, finally giving in to the heartbreak which had been trying to claim her.

Her last words to her son were, "follow your heart, and don't stop have adventures, no matter what anyone tells you. Your father and I will always be proud of you, no matter what. Have a good life, my son. I love you."

Bilbo knew she was better off in Yavana's Garden, with his Pa. But it still hurt when she died.

With Belladonna's words in his mind and heart, Bilbo embraced his Tookish nature. As soon as he was of age, by Hobbit standards, he was off on his first trip. He decided to go to Rivendell and visit the Elves first. He was off to the Blue Mountains on his next trip, visiting his mother's Dwarf friends (Bofur was well meaning, even if he tended to put his foot in it; Bombur was a sweet Dwarf, and would fit well in the Shire with his love of food; Bifur was kind hearted and funny, despite his gruff exterior). It was another 20 years of travels later, when his Calling kicked in.

He was a day's ride from Bag End, when he felt the urge to make something. Something specific for his One. Bilbo hurried Myrtle- his pony- wishing to get back quicker in order to make his Gift for his One.

He made it to Bag End that night, pushing through the darkness instead of stopping at the Green Dragon, as he'd planned. It wasn't an issue sinceHobbits could see perfectly in the dark, and there were lamps out to guide the pony.

Bilbo brought Myrtle to a stop, before dismounting and guiding the animal into his stables behind his large smial. He pulled the packs off his pony's back and unsaddled her. He took the bags with him inside, putting his things away, before finding his sketch pad and some charcoal. The Hobbit quickly began to draw plans for his Gift. It was going to take a lot of work to finish this off, but it was going to be worth it.

When Kili Dreamed of his One, the only glimpses he got of what they looked like were the rare times that his Hobbit looked in the mirror. Kili knew of the scar that ran from below his One's right eye, down their cheek and to their chin. The prince didn't care about it, he was just glad that Bilbo's eye hadn't been taken out by the Orc blade that caused the scar. In truth, the Dwarf thought it added to the Hobbit's roguish appearance, and he rather liked it. By the time Kili was of age, he had a rough idea of what to make his One, but he didn't dare start crafting before he had his Calling. Any attempt at creating the Gift before its time had all ended extremely badly. But as soon as he came of age, Kili was off drawing his plans and ordering materials. He would make sure it was perfect.

It was times like this when Bilbo was glad he came from a very wealthy family, and that he was friends with many Dwarrow; his Gift would require leather, wood and metalwork, and the most expensive leather, wood and metal there was. He would have to use ironwood and mithril if this was to go according to plan. The woodwork would come first, followed by the pouring and moulding of the mithril, with the leatherwork at the end.

The Hobbit put off every plan he had to go anywhere, while he made the Gift. It would take all the time he had to make it, and he did not want to meet his One without completing the Gift. He would feel truly horrible if that were the case.

Bilbo borrowed the Shire forge for a few coins a day to complete the metalwork on his Gift, after finishing all the woodwork in his workshop at home. It was a month of near constant planning and working later, when he was just finishing his Gift. That was, of course, when Gandalf the Grey decided to drop by.

"Good morning," Bilbo greeted, tying the wire around one end of the Gift.

The Wizard raised an eyebrow, whether at the item in Bilbo's lap or something else, the Hobbit could not say, "what do you mean?" and let the confounded riddles begin, "do you mean to wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or, are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

The Hobbit blinked, momentarily pausing his work, "hmm, the first and second to last; after all, the sun is shining, my scars are not hurting, I've not had to run from angry tavern owners for a least a month, and my Gift is almost done. So, I would definitely say I feel good this morning, I'm wishing you a good morning, and, while we're at it, I'm gonna say that this is a good morning whether you want it or not," Bilbo smirked as he took a drag from his pipe, before getting back to work.

Gandalf frowned; this was not what he had expected from Bilbo Baggins.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mithrandir?" the Hobbit asked, glancing up and enjoying the (not so) hidden surprise on the Wizard's face.

"I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure," the Grey man replied.

"What kind of adventure?" Bilbo huffed as he tried to pull the wire taught, without snapping anything (not that the mithril would actually snap).

"That is a rather delicate matter," Gandalf said, "all I can tell you right now is it would be long, dangerous and involve Dwarrow. And a lot of running."

The russet haired man gathered his things, "I don't do mystery quests," he told the Istar as he strolled back towards his front door, "good morning," he called out cheerily.

"To think I have lived to be good morning'ed by Belladonna Took's son!" Gandalf exclaimed.

Bilbo sighed, closing his eyes and turning around, "fine. Stop by for some dinner and explain it to me then, or I won't be going."

"It's decided, it'll be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others," the Wizard was about to sweep away, when the Hobbit called out behind him.

"I will kick you all out, if you do not tell me how many to expect!"

Gandalf huffed in irritation; he always got his way, but Bilbo was challenging the laws of nature by denying him that right! He turned, "13 Dwarrow," and he swept away with a furl of his cloak.

The Baggins chuckled as he walked inside, shutting the door and making his way towards the living room to finish the Gift.

Because Bilbo had bought so much food down at the market, he had several generous neighbours offer to deliver things for him. As a result, he had people popping in and out of his smial all day. He also had Bell Gamgee at his home, helping him with all the cooking he had to do. He was glad that he decided to finish his Gift earlier because, before he knew it, he was saying goodby to Bell and welcoming his first guest.

"Dwalin, at your service," the gruff Dwarf gave a slight bow.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family's," the Hobbit replied and bowed back, blocking the door until he had finished, "boots by the door, hang up your cloak, and you can leave your heavier weapons by the door."

He stepped back, allowing the Dwarf entrance to his smial. Dwalin removed all that was asked and followed the small being into the kitchen. Bilbo served up some ale to his guest, before heading to the door as he heard another knock. The next to arrive was Dwalin's brother, Balin, a jolly white haired Dwarf who seemed like someone's kindly grandfather. After him, two young Dwarrow arrived at the same time.

"Fili," the blonde stated.

"And Kili," the younger brunette continued.

"At your service," the pair finished with a bow.

"You must be mister Baggins!" Kili grinned.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service," the Hobbit bowed, "please leave your boots and large weapons by the door," he stepped back to allow them entrance.

The blonde Dwarf headed for the kitchen, while Kili stayed to talk to the host, "this is going to sound very out there, but...I think your my One."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. That was...unexpected, "oh, okay, erm, I just need to make contact with you to see," at the Dwarf's questioning look, he continued, "...it's a Hobbit thing."

"Okay," Kili nodded and held out his hand.

The Hobbit took the other's hand and held it for a moment, before snatching it back and hissing as his wrist burnt.

"What?! What happened?" the Dwarf asked, taking the reaction as a bad sign.

Bilbo yanked his sleeve back to looked at the glowing Marks on his left wrist. He hissed as the pain increased, before finally settling in black. He grinned at his One, Kili grinning back.

"Is that a yes?" Kili asked.

"That's a yes," Bilbo replied.

He was pulled into a kiss by the Dwarf. The short beard he had scratched over Bilbo's lips and the scar he'd gained from an Orc. Well, this certainly wasn't what he'd expected would happen when he met his One, but he wasn't exactly complaining; the Dwarf was hot, in an exotic way, and one hell of a good kisser. He pulled back for air, when he remembered that they should exchanged Gifts.

"Should we swap Gifts now?" Bilbo asked.

Kili grinned; he was still a kid inside and he loved presents, "yeah," he nodded.

"Okay," the Hobbit nodded, "follow me," he turned and headed toward his workshop.

He picked up the large box which held the Gift. He turned to see Kili holding a carved wooden box. They swapped boxes, eagerly awaiting what lay inside. Bilbo unlatched the shining oak box and opened it, seeing a pair of leather vambraces laid on red velvet. Ten throwing knives were attached to the lid. Bilbo lifted up a vambrace, placing the box on the table as he slipped the piece onto his left arm, doing up the straps, and doing the same with the other vambrace.

Kili opened the black box to find the most beautiful bow he had ever seen, resting on a bed of green velvet. The weapon was made from dark ironwood with lines and swirls of mithril inlaid into it. The pointed ends of the bow were dipped in mithril as well, making them sharp. Two mithril blades curled from the bow, and a hand guard was attached over the handle. The hand guard was made in a shield-like shape from ironwood. A few centimeters from the edge, mithril covered the guard. In the center, lay Kili's symbol of Durin. Another two curved blades came from the bow, beneath the hand guard, with a third straight blade coming from the guard. It was a beautifully lethal weapon.

Behind the bow, lay a dark leather quiver with geometric patterns pressed into it. The straps were designed so it could be slung over his shoulder, or hung from his hip. 30 arrows were attached to the soft green lid. Kili could tell that these arrow were made from mithril and ironwood, as well. 10 of the feathers were red, 10 were blue, and the last 10 were green. The Dwarf put the box on the table and reached out to pick up the bow with hesitate hands.

"Just pick it up," Bilbo's voice made him jump, "it's made from mithril and ironwood, it's not going to break if you smashed it over an Orc's head, let alone touched it," he teased.

"I know," Kili replied, "but it's so beautiful."

Bilbo picked the bow up and passed it to his One, "that's why you use it."

The prince grinned as he held the lethal bow, pulling the string back and testing it, "this is brilliant," he turned to Bilbo, "thank you so much."

The Hobbit grinned, "thank you for the vambraces, and the knives."

"Oh, you don't know the best bit yet," Kili's eyes took on a mischievous glint as he showed his One what to do, "copy me."

Bilbo did as the Dwarf did, flicking his right arm down and tilting his fist back. A blade which matched the throwing knives was released from the vambrace.

"Whoa," he breathed.

"Try the other arm," Kili told him, grinning.

The Baggins did as told and flicked out the blade on his left arm. This one was more like a hook, rather than a knife. That could be useful.

"That's brilliant," Bilbo grinned. He flicked the hook blade away, before he realized something, "I haven't told you about the arrows yet. The green ones are poisonous, the red ones contain flash powder for explosions, while the blue ones are normal arrows."

Kili put the bow away, closing the box, before taking Bilbo's hands and saying, "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

Bilbo grinned.

The next day, Bilbo was riding with the Company of Dwarrow to reclaim Erebor. He was clad in leather armour, his new vambraces, and the wolf fur coat he had made all those years ago. For the first time in many years, he was not afraid to show people his scars. He had always known they were something to be proud of, but now he knew they could be accepted. All of them, down to the half missing pinkie on his left hand thanks to a Warg.

He no longer had to wonder what his One would be like. He had found him.

A/N: I may do other Hobbit OTP fics later on (Bilbo/Fili, and Bilbo/Bofur are likely), but I'm going to do other fandoms first.

I wasn't really happy with the ending (I thought it was too sudden & I skipped a lot) but I chose to post it like this & may change it later. Okay, UP NEXT: Avengers (pairing: Bruce/Tony)