When Bilbo was still very small, his mother always told him that he was special, blessed by Yavanna herself for his gifts. The Elders of the Shire, though they held little in regard to Belladonna Baggins (For she was once an adventurous Took), they paid special heed to her small son, often giving him small gifts and tokens when he was out playing in the fields with the other children. When they'd ask him why he was always getting special attention, he'd simply grin at them and toss flower petals at them. None seemed to notice that he'd not once been near blooming flowers at the time.

As Bilbo grew, he was often able to be found wandering the woods, or the lands near the vast Brandywine River, looking for elves, and having small adventures of his own (following in his mother's footsteps). The Elders frowned upon his behavior but he cared little for their opinions, for whenever he'd come home with an especially pretty toadstool to show his mother, or with a tiny injured creature in tow, his mother would bestow upon him the most beauteous of smiles, and that was all he really cared for.

When he was off gallivanting about the country side, Bilbo would be nestled next to his mother in their gardens, his father watching approvingly from their garden bench, smoking his pipe. He would help her make sure all of the flowers and vegetables in their gardens were the prettiest and most abundant in all the Shire. With an easy brush of his fingers, and a quite prayer to Yavanna, their garden bloomed and prospered, much to the envy of their neighbors. But, Bilbo was not the greedy sort, and would afford his gifts to those who asked him of it, and the Shire prospered.

Once Bungo Baggins passed, however, it was only a matter of time before a shadow seemed to descend over Bag End, and those who lived around the smial shied away. Bilbo would only occasionally be found wandering in his family's once illustrious gardens, whispering to the flowers to help them bloom, though there would be none of the joy in his face he once held in abundance.

Belladonna passed a few short years after her husband, and quickly the lands around Bag End began to whither. If not for their faithful neighbors, the Gamgee's, it would have certainly fallen to rot. Bilbo held no interest in helping the lands flourish, let alone leaving his cozy smial that held so many once happy memories. Hamfast Gamgee took it upon himself to become the Baggins' gardener, making sure that although the inside of the smial was anything but happy, the gardens around still bloomed. Once out of his stupor of grief, Bilbo would repay Hamfast for all he had done, of course, offering his gift to the other's garden, though he left Bag End to the gardener to tend.

Bilbo very nearly swore off using his gift all together, with the exception of occasionally to help tend the Gamgee's garden. Until, of course, a rather pesky wizard and thirteen dwarves made themselves at home in his smial.

"I should think that you would be more apt to help int his regard, Bilbo," Gandalf murmured one night, the hobbit sat huddled next to him, wrapped in his blanket.

"What regard?" Bilbo asked stubbornly, watching the dwarves bustle about their camp, making themselves comfortable for the night.

"Well," Gandalf hummed, puffing merrily on his pipe, "You could certainly offer up your services to help find food, for one. I know you haven't done much in the years since your mother passed away, but certainly I'm sure you could find some nice forest fruits and such for dinner."

Bilbo huffed, burying his face further into his knees, watching Bombur bustle about the pot of stew hanging over the fire. "I do not wish for them to know of my gifts. Especially if I should fail in finding anything to eat. They will surely blame me for starving, if the time should ever come, Yavanna forbid," he supplied, tilting his head to glance up at the thoughtful looking wizard.

"Hmm. When did I say anything about gifts?" he asked with a tiny, knowing smirk, "I simply suggested you go for a walk and, perchance, you might stumble upon something. No need for anyone to know it was but a stroke of happenstance."

Bilbo lifted his head a little, regarding the wizard for a long minute, before smiling faintly. "I suppose that couldn't hurt."

When Bilbo was hugged atop the carrock, he swore he could feel his heart swell in his chest. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he very nearly buried his face into Thorin's thick furs in relief. He refrained, of course, knowing he mustn't spoil the moment by becoming clingy.

He stood, after their hug, staring out across the land at the dwarves' long lost home, casting a brief glance at Thorin out of the corner of his eye, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Yes, he would follow this dwarf as far as he could, and help him regain his home, if he could help in any way.

"Little Bunny, eat up!"

Bilbo groaned at Beorn's insistence of calling him a bunny, though he smiled benignly and accepted yet another honey cake.

"I know you are in distaste of his choice of names," Bilbo jumped at the rough voice that suddenly came from his left, turning his head to find Thorin, a faint hint of a smirk on the dwarf's face, "But he is right. You really should eat up, and regain your strength."

Bilbo coughed quietly to try and cover up his jumpiness, although it was far too late, especially with the dusting of pink dancing across his cheeks. "Yes, I know," he murmured, taking an over-sized bite of his cake, unaware of the vase of flowers behind him perking up and blooming widely.

"We will not venture forth until our hobbit is better."

Bilbo stirred slightly, fingers twitching in the soft sheets he laid upon. He groaned quietly, turning his head towards the deep rumble of a voice that had woken him, blinking blurry eyes open.

"He's awake. Shoo, you'll disturb him."

"I'm fairly certain you'll be no less of a disturbance, uncle."

Laughter followed the sound of a closing door, Bilbo smiling faintly at the looking of mild embarrassment that lingered on Thorin's face as he turned to find the hobbit staring at him.

"I apologize if my nephews woke you," the dwarf murmured, moving to seat himself in the chair pulled up next to Bilbo's bed.

"Not at all," Bilbo hummed, smiling weakly at Thorin, "I think waking to a sweet familial moment is actually quite enjoyable. I have missed them so. Your nephews are welcome to tease you in my presence anytime they wish."

Thorin chuckled quietly, patting Bilbo's hand. "I see fever has not drained you of your sense of humor."

"Should it have?"

Thorin hummed quietly, giving Bilbo's hand a small squeeze. "You frightened me, halfling," the king finally whispered after a few long moments of silence.

Bilbo's smile slowly slipped off his face, sighing quietly. "I am sorry," he murmured, turning his face away from Thorin, "I did not mean to cause you any more stress than you already have on your over crowded plate. I know Durin's Day is quickly approaching, and my falling ill is not aiding you in the least."

Thorin scoffed quietly, reaching out to cup Bilbo's cheek and turn his face so he could look into the hobbit's face. "Hush, now. You have caused me stress, but only because I am worried for your health. Durin's Day is still a ways away, yet, so fret not about such trivial things. Focus simply on helping your body get better. That is all I worry for."

Bilbo felt his eyes water slightly as he lifted his hand shakily to place over Thorin's on his cheek, sighing quietly. "I am still sorry for causing you worry," he murmured, smiling up at the dwarf king.

Thorin regarded the hobbit for a moment, before leaning in and pressed a light brush of a kiss over the bridge of Bilbo's nose, bestowing upon him a rare smile. "Get better, and I shall worry no longer."

Bilbo crept through the battle field, his heart in his throat, swinging his joke of a sword wildly as orcs rushed around him in every direction. His only saving grace, and quite possibly the only reason he was still alive, was the ring on his finger, keeping him from being visible to the enemy. This was all he could do for his once king, now that he was cast aside. Simply aid in any way he could, while keeping his presence as secret as he could.

"Thorin!"

He turned at the shout of his king's name, eyes widening when he saw Fili and Kili run to their uncle's aid, orcs surrounding them on all sides. Bilbo's heart seemed to freeze as he watched Thorin take a spear to his shoulder, and fall to one knee, Kili tossing his now broken bow to the ground and drawing his sword, just barely blocking a deadly swing of a mace, while Fili lost one of his swords to a crazed orc brandishing a dwarven ax.

"No," Bilbo whispered, running for all he was worth to reach his king and heirs to the throne, his heart fluttering wildly like a hummingbird. He yanked his ring from his finger, shoving it haphazardly into his pocket as he finally jumped between the boys to land in front of Thorin, running his sword through a goblin that had tried to take out the king while he was pulling the spear from his bleeding shoulder.

Bilbo could have sworn he heard Thorin curse at him to get out of the way, but he cared little at this point. He was already banished, and Thorin was quite possibly fatally injured, while the boys were trying and failing to keep the advancing army of orcs and goblins at bay.

"I will not lose you," Bilbo cursed, turning in time to see an orc trying to creep up behind the king, the hobbit wildly grabbing one of Fili's knives to throw and impale it in the creature's chest. "I WILL NOT LOSE YOU!" Bilbo all but screamed, a sudden gust of wind picking up around the battle field, tears streaking down the halfling's face.

Thorin sat dumbstruck at Bilbo's yell, watching as his hobbit slashed wildly at orcs and goblins alike, aiding his nephews in keeping the enemy back. He managed to stagger to his feet, clutching orcrist in his good hand as he moved back into the fray, slicing through any orcs that made it past his nephews and Bilbo.

One of the boys turned poorly, taking the blunt side of a sword to his side and falling, leaving an opening for another orc spear to pierce his uncle, Thorin falling to his knees with a grunt, blood streaking down the front of the king's armor.

"THORIN," Bilbo shouted, a violent wind accompanying his cry. The hobbit rushed forward, clutching at the king as he coughed up blood, spattering the already bloodied ground.

"Bilbo," Thorin murmured, lifting a hand weakly to clutch at the hobbit's shirt sleeve, looking up at him imploringly, "I am sorry."

Bilbo shook his head, tears flowing freely over his cheeks, shaking his head wildly. "No! No, don't say that. Don't give up! You can't die on me!"

"Bilbo, my halfling, my-my love," Thorin coughed, struggling to get breath into his lungs, even as the far off cry of eagles could be heard above the battle fields, "Forgive me, in this hour, for my past transgressions. For the things I have unthinkingly uttered in your presence. Forgive this old fool, for being so-so blinded by meaningless pieces of gold."

Bilbo shook, holding his king close to his chest, muttering into his blood streaked hair. "Stop, please stop. I am not going to let you die. Not like this."

Thorin's hand slipped from Bilbo's sleeve, the hobbit letting out a wail of anguish, making even Fili and Kili and those they were fighting pause and look back at the hobbit and his dwarven king.

The two princes both stepped away from Bilbo as the hobbit slowly laid Thorin on the ground, and rose to his feet, turning to glare at the golbins and orcs that were frozen in the penetrating stare of the hobbit.

Furiously, Bilbo threw an arm out, wind knocking their enemies off their feet and away from the small circle of dwarves and their burglar. Bilbo then murmured something under his breath as the orcs and goblins began to try scrambling away from the hobbit, but before they could get far, Bilbo swung his sword out, the wind kicking up once more, harsh blasts of air sweeping through the air, moving with the arc of the sword, more than a dozen of the enemy force being sliced in half by seemingly nothing at all.

"Bilbo," Kili whispered as the hobbit stepped away from Thorin's prone form, an outraged cry erupting from the halfling's lungs as he began to pick up his pace, running at foes who had already begun to try and get away, both from the eagles above, and the furious force of the hobbit on the ground, wielding the very wind itself as a weapon.

Soon, time seemed to stand still for Bilbo as the last enemy near his dwarves fell, and he simply stood, gasping for air amungst the bloody remains of those who had been victim to his outrage. he looked around him, eyes wide at the damage he had wrought, wondering where in the world that much power had come from in his tiny body.

"Bilbo?" Fili's quiet voice brought Bilbo back to himself, turning to watch the two young prince's slowly approach him looking nervous. As if he's lash out at them now that there were no more enemies to fell.

Bilbo let a weak smile slide across his lips, holding out his arms to gather the two injured dwarves into a hug. "Fili, Kili," he murmured, silently thanking Aule that they had at least survived, and the line of Durin may yet continue.

"You worried us," Fili murmured, returning the hobbit's hug.

"More like frightened the hell out of us!" Kili commented, earning a light shove from his brother.

"I apologize," Bilbo said quietly, releasing the boys, "I honestly have no idea in the slightest where it came from." He then turned his gaze past the boys to the fallen form of his king, swallowing thickly as he slowly approached, falling to his knees and dropping his sword as he took in the still form of his lover.

Bilbo laid a hand across Thorin's chest, a fresh wave of tears welling up in his eyes, before he felt the faintest of movements from the king's chest. He blinked in surprise, before leaning over to hover over Thorin's mouth, gasping at the near silent rattling of breath entering and exiting the king's lungs.

"He's alive! Boys! He's alive," he cried out jovially, letting out a hysterical laugh as the boys cheered behind him, Kili rushing off to find someone who could take their uncle and king to be healed.

"You're alive," Bilbo murmured happily, clutching Thorin's hand in his own. A tiny flower of the brightest blue bloomed next to Bilbo's knee, going completely unnoticed by the hobbit.

"He's going to be fine."

Bilbo nearly let out a shout of pure and utter glee at the words Oin spoke, instead moving forward to take the old dwarf's hand in his own and give it a vigorous shake.

"So, what happened out there, Bilbo?" Fili asked, seated next to the hobbit just outside Thorin's tent while Kili was a few tents over, having his arm bandaged up.

Bilbo sighed at the prince's question, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a time, before finally speaking. "When I was very young, my mother used to tell me that Yavanna had blessed me. She often claimed that was why she could only have one child, because she had been given such a gift as me, that any other child she would have would not be given the same sort of attention and love as I from the rest of the Shire, and that it would be incredibly unfair, so Yavanna deemed that she should only have me. From the time I could walk, I could help plants grown, and heal small animals. If I deemed it, I could give soil the ability to give bloom to the prettiest of flowers and the tastiest of vegetables. I never once had a violent urge, not like I had on the battle field, when I had thought for certain that Thorin had died. I think, perhaps, that is where those abilities sprang from. I've never been able to do anything like it before, but perhaps, even just for this once, Yavanna allowed me to help protect those I love."

Fili stared at the hobbit in silence, letting what Bilbo had just told him sink in, speaking slowly when he finally did, as if thinking over every syllable before it left his mouth. "So…You are a magical hobbit. That can control the very earth around us?"

Bilbo chuckled, rolling his eyes a little at the over simplification, before shrugging. "I suppose so."

"Then, why didn't you use your gifts while we were travelling?! It would have been a great help to us!"

"Gandalf encouraged me to do just that, actually," Bilbo remarked, chuckling quietly, "Though, honestly, I have never been able to do such great deeds before. I did, though, help gather food, if you recall. Especially in Mirkwood, when there was little to be found, I would make bushes of berries healthy and help wild vegetables sprout, so we could eat. Where did you think all of that came from in such a diseased place?"

"I just thought you were lucky," Fili admitted with a shrug, perking up a little as Kili finally came limping towards them, a wide grin on his face. Fili brightened up immediately upon seeing his brother bandaged up, but otherwise well.

"Word is that Thorin is going to pull through!" Kili chirped, lowering himself to the ground next to Fili, smiling widely at Bilbo.

"Indeed, he is," Bilbo nodded, glancing up as Gandalf approached the tent, leaving Fili and Kili to chat between themselves.

"Bilbo," Gandalf hummed with a short tip of his hat, "I see we still have a king under the mountain thanks to you."

Bilbo huffed quietly, a hint of blush on his cheeks. "Only just barely," he teased, rising to his feet to meet the wizard.

"Only just barely, indeed," Gandalf agreed, gesturing for the hobbit to follow him as he entered Thorin's tent.

Bilbo cringed a little at seeing Thorin without the cover of his armor, covered in dirt, blood and bandages. To see a figure that always held so much power and dignity, someone who seemed so large, despite his shorter stature, laid out on a bed, looking small and on the brink of death, was hard for the halfling.

"Can you ease his healing at all?" Bilbo asked the wizard, looking up at the other forlornly.

"I'm afraid I can do very little in regards to his physical health. I am only able to help keep his soul here, if his body is well enough to contain it. Perhaps, though, you might be able to help?" Gandalf hummed, leaning on his staff a bit.

Bilbo swallowed thickly, brushing his fingers lightly over Thorin's bandaged arm. "But, Oin said he would be fine."

"And he shall. But it is going to take much time. And Thorin is stubborn, and will most likely not stay in bed, as he will be told when he wakes up. At best, he will simply tear his stitches a few times, and be scolded for his own undoing. At worst, he will aggravate one of his wounds, and potentially make himself very ill with infection for being foolish. Which, despite Oin's best healing, could be fatal for our king."

Bilbo sighed, looking over Thorin's form, realizing easily that Gandalf was quite right. His king would never lay idly while other's toiled to rebuild the kingdom he had worked so very hard to take back. "What can I do?"

"Heal him. Don't think belladonna never told me of how you used to run a small hospital out of your home as a child. Always bringing injured creatures to and fro."

Bilbo sighed, rolling his eyes fondly at the idea of his mother chatting with Gandalf over his child hood exploits, before a more melancholy mood took him. "Yes, but those were only small woodland creatures. Tiny injuries. I have never healed anything so deep before."

"Perhaps not, but you have never bent the very wind itself to your will before, either. Give it a try."

Bilbo cast Gandalf a dubious look, before he nodded, and went to work, chewing on his lip as he focused on closing the gaping wounds in Thorin's shoulder and side.

Bilbo scowled at the elder dwarf who was demanding that Thorin work simply on getting the palace restored, since apparently the irrigation and homes for the workers helping to clean and restore the kingdom were not nearly as important as having the royal family appear to be powerful and in charge of the situation.

The dwarf cast Bilbo an annoyed glance at being glared at, Bilbo's temper flaring not for the first time that day, the candles lighting the meeting room they were in flickering as a few rocks fell from the ceiling. A small one bounced off the elder dwarf's head, causing Bilbo to smirk, and the dwarf to look around in mild fear, before his gaze landed on the hobbit. He seemed to think better of harassing the king at that point, and excused himself quickly.

"If this keeps up, I may just have to keep you by my side, simply to scare those away that would annoy me," Thorin commented with a smirk, watching the guards at the door let the old dwarf out.

"I may just do that, just to keep idiots out of the court. Honestly, these so called advisers have no idea what they're on about half the time," Bilbo scoffed, folding his arms over his chest, "I'd like to know why they're even advisers in the first place."

Thorin shrugged, leaning on the arm rest of his chair, his smirk morphing into a soft smile as he regarded Bilbo. "Most because my grandfather was a bit daft, especially as he became ill with gold sickness. He also didn't have a consort to help him rule, after my grandmother died, so he lost his way. I'll sort through them once Erebor is more stabilized."

Bilbo nodded in agreement, raking his fingers through his curls with a quiet huff. "Good. They're all daft, I tell you. And they have no proper priorities. Not that you can talk, honestly. I should just take your place as King."

Thorin chuckled at Bilbo's teasing, the hobbit grinning at him all the while. "You know, perhaps you don't have half a bad idea, there."

Bilbo blinked at him, a frown of confusion forming on his face. "What in the world are you on about now?"

Thorin rolled his shoulders slightly, looking uncharacteristically shy for a beat, before licking his lips and speaking. "Would you consider becoming my consort? You said yourself, you'd make a good ruler, and I could really think of no other that I would rather have by my side to help rule, and keep my advisers in line. If you are not opposed."

Bilbo blushed darkly, staring at Thorin in utter disbelief, before a wide smile settled itself on his face. "You great idiot of a dwarf! Of course!"

Thorin grinned wickedly, standing from his chair to swoop Bilbo up into his arms, planting a kiss on the hobbit's lips. "Excellent! Would you curse me if I were to take my future consort to bed, then?"

Bilbo laughed as Thorin headed out of the meeting room and towards their chambers, burying his face in the king's furs. "Idiot."

Some say that on the day of the King's wedding, the entire valley below the mountain bloomed flowers of such varied and vivid colour that Aule himself blessed the kingdom and its future.