#snow hobbits

“Are we ready to return to Erebor?” Thorin asked his guard.

The dwarf nodded. Everything is packed, and the carriage is hitched but…”

Thorin heaved a sigh as he had a feeling he knew exactly what was out of sorts. Or more accurately whom. 

“The Consort?”

“The Consort.” The guard affirmed.

Thorin assured him he would take care of it as he slowly began to hobble down the unusually empty halls of Rivendell. So much has changed in the last seventy odd years since he was here last. Nevermind that he was now an old dwarf who had to get by with a cane, but he always remembered Imladris bathed in such a warm light. After the revelation of the Ring though, everything felt colder. 

There was a spot though that Thorin remembered well. Fireflies and shared words with a burglar he thought he had no use for. Sure enough, as he crossed the bridge into the walled gardens, there was his hobbit. Bilbo’s eyes were torn to the east. But he knew it was not their mountain home that held his attention. Rather, a group of eleven companions, two of which were their nephews.

The fetching color of snow white on the hobbit’s head had been a permanent fixture for awhile, but still caught Thorin off-guard against the surrounding orange and browns of the autumn-colored trees. Leaning on his cane, he took in the sight just a little longer. A lingering image of peace while he had it. Pretty soon, he hobbled over, wrapping his hand around his unsurprised hobbit’s waist. Turning his head to the side, he planted a kiss in Bilbo’s curls.

“What have I done?” Bilbo murmured in despair.

“It wasn’t your fault, ibinê (my gem).”

“I’ve been carrying an object of great evil that could forever end the world.” 

“And in doing so, you kept it out of evil’s hands for a little over half a century. Don’t be so hard on yourself mudùmê (my comfort).”

Thorin’s thumb lightly grazed the hobbit’s wrinkled face trying to catch the tears as they fell. 

“And now Frodo and Kili are out there…with those dear boys Sam, Merry, and Pippin…what if…?”

Amrâlimê (My love), you can’t think such things. Kili for all that he still acts like he’s seventy, is a very established warrior, and his elven love certainly won’t let anything happen to him. And our little snow bunny…”

Bilbo gave a snort at this which caused Thorin to smile as he pressed another kiss to his head.

“He was raised by an idealistic dwarf and a very clever burglar. I’d like to see them try to stop him.”

“You must think me so silly and ridiculous.”

“Never.” Thorin stated, punctuating it with another kiss.

Bilbo finally turned to Thorin fully, there was a smirk on his face, but his eyes were so full of sorrow. 

“How can you make light of this terrible secret I’ve held from you?”

Ah, the heart of the issue then. Thorin let his cane fall from his hand as he gripped his beloved’s waist with the intent of never letting go.

“Paraphrasing perhaps the most important words ever spoken to me, but I don’t make light of it, Lukhudel (light of all lights). But punishing yourself won’t make it better. Forgive yourself, as I have forgiven you.”

“Oh Thorin.” Bilbo sobbed, burying his head in Thorin’s chest. “It’s not the same.”

“You’re right. Because I actually did hurt you. Yet, beyond my wildest hopes, you forgave me.”

Bilbo pressed a watery smile against Thorin’s cheek as he started to pet Thorin’s long white beard. Something that always filled Thorin with a sense of pride and affection. 

“My snowy raven, when did you get so wise?” 

Thorin chuckled. “I’ve told you before that doesn’t quite work. Ravens keep their colors in the winter.”

Bilbo humphed and continued his ministrations, causing something warm and fond to curl in his belly. 

“However, to answer your question. I quite believe it was the day I asked you to marry me.”

Bilbo barked out a laugh before giving Thorin a real kiss this time. It was the most Thorin had been able to pry from him since their discovery of the true nature of Bilbo’s little invisibility trick, and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. When they finally did pull away, Bilbo was very quick to correct an early point of his.

“Always so hard on yourself. It was rather easy to forgive you, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin stood there smiling like an idiot at his little fussy hobbit as he fiddled with imaginary wrinkles in Thorin’s sleeve to distract himself from the adoration radiating from Thorin like a summer sun, turning Bilbo’s cheeks a fetching pink. 

“I suppose…we are headed home then.”

Thorin’s smile slipped as he bent down to pick up his cane, cursing when his back twinged in the process. Bilbo rubbed at it with a half-hearted smirk. It was nearly every day now that one of them was complaining about feeling old. Thorin had remembered years ago finding it rather unfair that his husband had seemingly managed to stop aging, giving him the ability to tease Thorin indulgently over his mistake that day upon the ramparts. Looking back, it seemed so obvious something had been…unnatural. 

“I am afraid war will find us sooner rather than later.” Thorin admitted. “I need to make sure Fili is prepared.”

“And when an army sits upon our doorstep, will you ride off to meet them?”

Thorin’s silence was answer enough, and Bilbo’s ears drooped as he immediately started fretting once more. However, he wasn’t so irritated that he didn’t link his arm with Thorin’s leading them back to the main entrance. 

“It’s my nature, mudùmel (comfort of all comforts).” Thorin murmured. 

“I know. Just as you should know that it is my nature to make sure you don’t do anything too stupid when you are trying to be dramatic and kingly.”

Thorin gave Bilbo’s hand a tight squeeze, but knew a subject change was in order. Before any more terrifying images of his old snow bunny in battle ill-equipped once more, could play out in his mind. His eyes flew east looking at the mountains they were about to cross. The mountains Frodo and Kili were most likely traveling south through at that very moment. His mouth pulled down at the sight of white blanketing the tops though.

“The Misties seem to have gotten an early snow.” He remarked with a frown. “That’ll slow us down a bit.”

Bilbo chuckled. “I noticed that as well. I guess it slipped my mind to mention it.”

Thorin frowned over at Bilbo. Since when do things ever slip his mind? Bilbo immediately slapped at his arm with a furrow to his brows.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m not going senile. Just forgot for a moment. It’s perfectly normal.”

It was the fourth thing Bilbo had just ‘forgotten’ that morning alone. However, Thorin chose not to mention it right now. He planted a small kiss to his hobbit’s curls instead. Bilbo huffed out his nose, grumbling under his breath about ‘overly protective dwarves’.

“You know what that means though, right? About the Fellowship?”

It didn’t dawn on Thorin immediately, no. Not like it should. His thoughts still twisted up in his rapidly aging husband. However, as soon as he was able to circle back to snow-capped mountains did he realize what his husband was implying. He threw his head back in laughter. 

“I don’t think they were adequately prepared for four hobbits.” He grinned wolfishly. 

“Certainly not a Brandybuck and a Took!” Bilbo agreed. “But at least Frodo and Sam are there to keep them out of too much mischief.”

Thorin thought Bilbo drastically underestimated Frodo’s penchant for mischief, but kept his mouth closed unless he wanted to endure another two hour lecture on the merit of hobbit families and Baggins in general. One thing was for certain. He did not envy anyone on that quest having to deal with four tricky snow bunnies.

***

“We’re going to make camp under that shelf!” Aragorn called back his companions above the blistering wind. “Boromir! Can you help the hobbits along?!”

“Aye!” He shouted back.

He turned his head, blinking snow out of his eyes as he began to shout. 

“Little Ones? Where are you?”

However, he could discern nothing from the blanket of white reaching practically to his hips. Had they been swallowed by the snow drifts? Were they stuck somewhere?

“Little hobbits!” He called again, pushing through the snow.

He dug around in places, looking for curly heads, but it was so difficult! Their hair having changed colors halfway up the mountain did not help with the lack of visibility. Boromir could feel the beginning of panic creeping into his chest as he began to search more animatedly. 

“Frodo! Sam! Merry! Pippin! Come here, Little Ones!”

While Boromir started to move about frantically, it was all Pippin could do to hold in his giggles. 

“Shh!” Merry urged. “You’ll give us away.” 

Merry and Pippin proceeded to make exaggerated bouncing moments, catching Boromir’s attention before freezing and letting him call out once more.

“Perhaps we should stop them.” Frodo pointed out. “They’re going to wear the poor man out.”

Sam snorted. “This is what you get inviting along a Took and a Brandybuck. But I swear if he calls us ‘little’ one more time, I will leave him out here with the two troublemakers.”

Frodo gave a sharp bark of laughter, not protesting a bit when Sam grabbed his hand to lead him towards the rest of the fellowship. Before they could reach the shelter though, Kili and Gimli passed right by them going to Boromir’s assistance.

“They’re wearing cloaks! Look for the green cloaks.” Kili ordered.

“Do you see green anywhere in this frozen landscape?!” Boromir snapped back.

“Look! Frodo used to play this game all the time with Fili and me. I think I know what I’m talking about here! You look for the flash of clothing!”