Fuck, I'm going to finish this story. It may not be for the ten chapters that I originally planned for, but its damn close. That counts right? Well, I hate to push out chapters that won't make sense or seem like I'm just filling the page with bullshit. Its not fair to you guys.

But someone said that I need to write more for them, so listen.

I write for myself and so I can share this shit with you guys. I don't need to do fucking anything, if I don't upload for a fucking year then I don't upload. I got a life, no matter how shitty, and I can't write 24/7. Thanks to the people that wait patiently for my ass it makes all this worth it, and if you can't respect that then there are other things to read. Or use your imagination and make up your own ending.

Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, Elven King of Mirkwood

Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf

Rating: MA (because ain't no part of me can write smut to save my life, its like this because of graphic gore in earlier chaps)

The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.


"Wake up Little One."

"No."

"We made you second breakfast, come join us at the table," Thranduil said.

"No."

"Why not?" Legolas asked him.

"Can't feel my legs."

The younger elf snickered and whispered to Thranduil, "My fault, not yours." To which Thranduil smacked his son upside the head and Legolas gave a low laugh. Of course he had to say it, but Legolas was younger than him by a considerable amount so he could see it as immaturity. Though that didn't mean that it would be immature of him to trip Legolas later on in front of the other guards.

He would be teaching a lesson.

"Breakfast can wait a bit, Legolas go get some bath oils ready."

As his son went to go do just that, Thranduil stepped over ripped and scattered clothing to reach the bedside where Bilbo was curled up in the majority of the blankets. He scooped Bilbo, blankets and all, into his bare arms and crossed the room to the connecting room with hot springs. The leather boots that both elven royals wore were carelessly thrown about, one managed to make it to the potted plants; successfully knocking it over.

Uh, so that was what the noise was last night.

His own silken pants were hanging from the chandelier and Legolas's tunic was on the back of the chaise; his magnificent cloak was underneath the pillows that were thrown off the bed. Bilbo's silver clothing was mixed in the mess and his silver fabric was actually being used as a tablecloth on one of the side tables in his room.

Maybe things got out of hand, but it was a night they wouldn't forget in a long time. Besides Elvedui or Adasser will clean up their mess later, so it wouldn't be of much consequence to spend this one morning with Bilbo.

Thranduil smirked when he saw the delicate looking bite marks on Bilbo's neck; the ones that they would leave for all to see. His pride told him to gloat, but his heart told him that he needed to treasure this moment. The rough lettering on Bilbo's chest was silver and puckered slightly; but instead of focusing on that Thranduil chose to lovingly run his hands through his hair.

"Ugh, why not have breakfast in the evening?"

Okay, so they may have overdid it a bit, but to be fair Bilbo did nothing to stop him or Legolas. He merely smirked at Bilbo and that was all the hobbit needed to keep his mouth shut. Grumbling about how difficult elven royalty can be, and ignoring the prince who yelled, "I heard that!" Thranduil ducked his head when Legolas threw a small bar of soap at him.

This life had some perks to it, Bilbo would admit that, but he was happy and wholesome. He couldn't say that he didn't miss some of his friends in the Company, because he did. He missed the ones that made that journey worth taking, he missed Gandalf, the one who pushed him to go in the first place. Bofur, who believed in his abilities when no other did.

Sweet, sweet Fili and Kili, the two little scamps that made him laugh when morale had been at its lowest. And Balin, dear Balin, the grandfather he hadn't seen since Old Took had died years before.

That was it though, the rest of the Company had kept their distance from him on the way East. There had been very few redeeming qualities about the dwarves of Erebor, and one was Fili's idiocy to barter the Arkenstone. His want to find him when they had been first been captured.

But the others, they knew what they were leading him into, and he believed Thranduil when he saw how quick Thorin was to wish war upon them.

"What are you thinking about so deeply dear One?"

He flinched when he remembered where he was, still in the King's rooms bathing with both royals. Rose scented water surrounded him in the almost too big tub, and both royal elves looked at complete peace relaxing in the water. Bilbo smiled for a second, "Is the Lady Dis's caravan passing through the Greenwood today?"

Thranduil's face pinched slightly at the mention of the Princess of Erebor, but he nodded nonetheless. The king muttering for Bilbo to hear, "Yes dear One, and Legolas and I have found it imperative to provide her with a means across the wood. As a small means of wishing no ill will to our new neighbors."

"Of course Bilbo, and when she and her caravan nears the Elven Road we wish for you to join us. As a show of unity for the Greenwood, to give the impression that our house is not so easily dimmed in the dark," Legolas gushed, happy to express his and his father's great ideas. It looked rather silly to Bilbo because the entire time Legolas was pouring copious amounts of a lily-scented oil into his hair.

Thranduil was much more reserved when it came to dispensing oil into both his and Bilbo's hair, taking his time to lather the oil into their hair properly. Rinsing it out only to do the process once more to help tame some of Bilbo's more wild curls.

"As if I'd let you two go alone," the hobbit commented as a small pitcher of water was poured over his head.

The two elves smiled as a sharp knocking on Thranduil's bedroom door was heard, and with a sigh the King retrieved a nearby towel to wrap around his waist. Legolas adverted his eyes for a second so Thranduil could keep some pride, before letting Bilbo throw a wet rag at Thranduil's retreating form.

Bilbo and Legolas were allowed just a few minutes of peace before they heard the enraged 'WHAT' from Thranduil, followed by the sure words of Elvedui. The elf prince helped his little hobbit from the tub before pulling on the plug and letting the water drain out. When he turned around Bilbo had already wrapped himself in a towel and made his way back to the main bedroom.

The elf smirking as he watched the slight limp in his gait as he did so.

Whereas Thranduil had no time to admire such view, instead he was standing in fury as he listened to Elvedui talk, in naught but a towel around the waist.

"Sire, the Lady Dis's caravan was spotted by Captain Tauriel about an hour away from the Main Palace. It would seem as if the Lady decided that she would not follow the timeline given to her in favor of, how men would say, fording the river," the she-elf informed him as clearly as possible. Her arms filled with a basket of their soiled clothing but she knew the King too well to be intimidated anymore.

She watched the rage disappate when the Little Master emerged from the King's bathing rooms, and Bilbo's mere presence dulled the sharp knife that was Thranduil.

"Of course, send a party out to greet them and lead them to the Throne Room. Any of her court and caravan are to be given rooms in the Eastern Wing while she is allowed to reside in the Green Rooms."

Without a second glance he waved her away before striding over to his wardrobe and drew at the silken clothes in there, ignoring Legolas as the prince walked from the bathroom into the hallway to his own room down the hall. Exasperated, Thranduil looked over to Bilbo and scoffed.

"Ugh, dwarves."

~.~.~.

Bilbo was stunned at the uncanny resemblance between Dis and Thorin; her beard was as dark as his and her hair seemed darker when in the shadows. Her sad blue eyes stared into his soul when he and her first saw each other in the Throne Room. From his perch on Thranduil's lap, she seemed small. Smaller then most dwarves but her posture was one of an unyielding posture.

Next to her was Fili, the son that risked everything for him, because he saw what was right and what was wrong.

Something that he would never forget about the proud dwarf that strutted his way into his smial a year ago. Now he looked as if it hurt to be in their presence.

"The Lady Dis of Erebor, may I be the first to welcome you back to the East in over a century. I hope that the way home was not a treacherous one for you and your people," Thranduil began with his usual grandeur. The elf noticed how she walked towards the steps to his throne calmly.

"My brother, Thorin, has long told me stories of my home. The house in which I was born to, the same house that my sons were denied birth in. It is good to have such a warm welcome home, but I would also like to thank Bilbo Baggins, a Prince in his own right. His actions saved my sons, the only treasures in this world I hold dear. To honor him I give one gift. One gift from the Treasure Hoard of Thror."

Bilbo knew that the elves surrounding him perked up, eager to know what their hobbit was going to ask for.

He frowned a bit but stretched his legs in the slightest to signal that he was going to walk down Thranduil's throne; his bare feet touched the polished wood as he smiled at Dis. Bilbo slowly made his way down the throne before he came to a stop in front of Dis, Legolas slowly making his way down as well in the off chance that something might go wrong.

"Princess Dis, I don't ask for much. I want that that will make my own beloved feel cheer, I want nothing for my own. From the Treasure Hoard of Thror I only ask for the White Gems of Lasgalen that shine, so that others can see what I see when looking into my loved ones eyes," and he could practically hear the shock in some peoples' minds.

To be truthful he was a mindboggling fellow, but he had no need of treasure. Of things that will not comfort him when he is depressed or provide him with joys when he least expects it. Though treasure can emphasis the love that one has for another, and he hopes that he had conveyed that.

"Truly?" Dis asked him. "You would see that your one request for treasure be used in such a way?"

Above them Thranduil scoffed, "There are none that can tell what his heart may desire. Treasure he has requested and by your word, it is treasure he may receive."

Bilbo could see the dwarrowdam grit her teeth, but she gave them her most amicable smile as she bowed to them. "Of course, your Highness has no doubt that he will. On my pride and life it will be done.

"See that it will and all will be well between us."

His honey eyes scanned the dwarven caravan before Bilbo spoke, "Well, now that that is out of the way. Why do we not show you to your rooms and them we can meet again after luncheon." Before anymore words could be exchanged a firm hand at his elbow pulled at him and it was all Dis or Fili could do to see the hobbit walk away. The blonde elf prince was too smug for any dwarves liking as was the king as the entire royal family left the room at their own leisure.

The princess frowned as she and Fili were led by guards towards the Green Room, one of the only rooms ready for the Little Folk to be in inside of the Royal Wing. Or rather, Bilbo Baggins' would-have-been rooms.

Mahal, even Dis could tell that the rooms were made with the hobbit in mind. The circular design that stared at them from every aspect of the room left no room to wonder as to the owner was. "It's Bag End," Fili breathed out, "He dare?" Dis held her poor son as the disbelief in his voice rang out brokenly.

"It is hard no doubt lion, but the Bilbo Baggins you once knew is know gone. Here he is a Consort, no more than you a Prince. He has changed, has he not?" Dis asked, "Did he once tan like you or Kili? Can he hear better then some men? Has he ingested any blood of a race not his own?"

When Fili did not answer she pressed on, "Ever since you journey back to retrieve your poor mother, I have been regaled with tales of a brave hobbit, turned meek and complacent. His own life is being shaped by those around him, the spark has burnt out. It was smothered before it could grow any larger, shadowed by the silhouette of others."

"He is my friend and companion!"

"Was, darling, was. I would not see you burn yourself out on a friendship that has come and gone."

"I would see my Uncle figure back the way he was."

Defeated Fili sat upon a chair that was too much like the one that belonged to Bungo Baggins. "I mean not to break the fragile glass bubble that you live in my son, but he has let you go. Now you must do the same for him. Let Bilbo go, despite what you may tell yourself there was no way to know his future when he was found by the elves. Nor was there a way for you to have been able to save him before it was too late," Fili opened his eyes to look into his mother's own.

"It hurt Amad, to see him used as a doll. To go through the motions of living but not seeing what was in front of him. I-I I want the hobbit that stood down Thorin and called him a pauper for infringing on his hospitality. I WANT BILBO BAGGINS!"

Dis shook her head, "He is gone! And shall not return! You are too much like Vili, too much like me."

"I am my own!"

"You are bullheaded! You are young! You are my son, and you are stuck in the past as I once was," and she let her tears fall. Dis clutched at him and held him close to her heart, "You are a Durin, and no matter what. We shall endure. I am sorry Fili, but you must understand."

"I cannot," and his tear-filled eyes bore into her own.

"You will know, and I must tell you. Bilbo is gone, and he won't be coming back."

~.~.~.

In a sense Dis was right, and it had been a decade since he had aged a bit. He had the same color hair and the honey eyes he was born with; Bilbo's sight grew better as well as his other senses. His curls grew long and were braided back, but no wrinkles adorned his body. Instead of the plumpness that came natural to him he had become lithe.

He wasn't going to be the same hobbit, and Gandalf was right about that.

There was never a moment in which he was alone, Bilbo had scribes and guards surrounding him at all times in the day when Legolas or Thranduil could not. He was crowned with stars, befitting that of a Queen at Thranduil's urging.

He was formally married into the royal line as Consort of the Woodland Lineage, shared equally between Legolas and Thranduil.

Bilbo was unofficially known as the Jewel of the Greenwood, even as the woods became sicker and darker. He was becoming more and more into another person, and eventually he didn't even recognize himself.

"Bilbo! Where did you go?!" and he grinned at the little voices that chased after him. The elflings begging him to come out from the rabbit holes that he was supposed to live in.

"Attercop! Attercop! Can't catch me!" he yelled back. Delighting in the little chase that was leading them further and further from the Palace and into the woods. His feet finding a path he had not walked for more than a decade, and over relics long lost to his memories.

Then he heard it. It wasn't an elfling calling him, but something different. Something...

precious

Bilbo was not the same Baggins that left the Shire.

No this Baggins was corrupted and sheltered when he had once craved the wilderness after he had come to appreciate its beauty. So he ignored the sweet calls of the elflings and the always present guards were no where near. Nor was the comforting presence of both Legolas and Thranduil near him either.

So when his fingers closed around a simple golden band, and a pain like fire burned its way from his hands to his brain he screamed. It was like no other and he had forgotten the power it had given him. Instead the trepidation was too much for him to handle and he screamed and begged for someone, anyone to save him. The elflings, afraid, had fled to go find help.

Leaving him all alone to face an Enemy like no other.

And far to the South, in a desolate place where a mountain stood far beyond the others; the fires had awaken and something fierce woke. As hands grabbed Bilbo and shook him desperately, he opened his mouth and let out a terrifying keen.

His eyes opened and instead of the honey eyes the elves were used to seeing it was for a split second a cat like eye. Flaming in its intensity, but the second it closed to open it was once more Bilbo's eyes.

"Back," he croaked.

His hand was pried open only so his husbands could see the plain band, and they both blanched.

The Enemy had returned, and Bilbo had been strong enough to keep sane.

He was going to be legendary.


Eyyy! Setting up for a maybe sequel! Had to finish it there and show that Bilbo was no longer the hobbit he was. But he is now even weaker and stronger. Maybe I'll get around to writing more, but I got to finish my other stories first.

Thank you for following me on this long journey.

Ragehappy Mavin Fan