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Thorin knew what his sister’s real intention was behind this so-called “favour” she asked from him. Apparently, she wanted a day to herself: her wardrobe was crying for new, more fashionable pieces and her hair was in dire need of cutting and dyeing, so she asked her grumpy brother to take care of her two sons, Fili and Kili. Of course, she used them as well when they talked on the phone; the boys were begging their uncle to come after them, go into the city and have a boys’ day. Thorin couldn’t say no to his nephews, so he was on his way to Dís and the mischievous boys.
As soon as he rang the doorbell, Fili and Kili ran to the door and attacked Thorin with loving hugs. He had every reasons to be upset that day, but his frown turned into a smile instantly. Oh, how he hated and loved his sister at the same time! She knew Thorin would most likely be spending the day moping. Their father had gone missing exactly ten years ago – a tragedy which hardened Thorin’s heart and left an ocean of sadness in his blue eyes. His father, being the mayor of the city, had many friends; Thorin and Dís used to lead an active social life. They grew up with having many guests at their house who taught and took care of them, but after the police gave up on trying to find Thráin even smiling was a difficult task for Thorin.
Dís was well aware that her sons would manage to keep Thorin’s mind fairly occupied. They already dragged him into their room; Fili, the older one, to show his progress on the drums he recently received for his tenth birthday and Kili, only five, to proudly show off the scar he got on the playground. Thorin was impressed by his nephews; he ruffled Kili’s dark curls and encouraged Fili with kind words. Dís was leaning against the wall, watching them with a tender smile despite her own heartaches. She wished her late husband would be here with them and she wished the boys would have had their grandfather here to tell them stories of the great city of Erebor.
However, Dís was ineffably grateful for her brother who took very good care of her and helped her in any way he could. She didn’t really need him this weekend, but she knew that Thorin would benefit from the pure joy his nephews carried in their heart. So she helped Kili with his coat and managed to convince Fili to put on a beanie – with the help of a meaningful look from Thorin directed at his nephew. Dís hugged all of them and watched as Kili took Thorin’s right hand while Fili, too old for doing the same, walked neatly on his uncle’s left side.
“Don’t come back till six o’clock, you hear me?” Dís shouted after them and laughed.
* * * * *
“Uncle Thorin, thank you so much for taking us to the zoo!” Fili exclaimed as they sat down on the bus that would take them in the city centre.
“I promised you last time, didn't I? A promise is a promise,” Thorin smiled at Fili and patted his shoulder gently. Then he leaned in and asked little Kili who sat in his lap: “Did you enjoy our visit at the zoo?”
“Yes, but I still don’t understand, why couldn’t we bring home that tiger?” Kili pouted.
Thorin laughed heartily and Fili jokingly pinched Kili’s cheek. That got the boys bantering until Thorin calmed them down:
“Quit fighting or we won’t stop at Mister Bofur!”
The warning made them behave. Thorin took Kili in his arms as they got off the bus and made sure that Fili put his beanie back on for the wind was fairly harsh. Luckily, Mister Bofur’s confectionary was close. Actually, the confectionary was owned by Mister Bofur and his brother Bombur. Bombur was the confectioner while Bofur served clients and did the accountancy, too. They had known Thorin for many years; their father always supplied the best cakes for Thorin’s father, the mayor. Their sweets were still legendary and Fili and Kili made sure to be good boys, so their uncle would take them there.
As soon as they entered the shop, Bofur greeted them cheerfully, Kili instantly jumped to hug the kind man. Bofur’s hazel eyes twinkled with delight to see the children and his old friend. He winked at the boys and whispered conspiratorially:
“Let’s sneak into the kitchen and give Mister Bombur a start!”
Thorin smiled while shaking his head just a bit disapprovingly. He knew how much the brothers loved children and chuckled to himself as Bombur let out a fairly girlish scream, Fili and Kili’s laughter sounding clear like crystal bells. Bofur returned with two plates, one for Thorin and himself.
“This is a new one. Bombur wants us to taste it if it’s good enough.”
Thorin was slightly disappointed not getting his usual chocolate cake with wild berries cream, but after one bite he changed his mind. The flavours simply dazed him. He knew the two creams contained tropical fruits; he could taste pineapple, but couldn’t guess the other components. Bofur soon enlightened him:
“It’s good, isn’t it? The other cream is with mango and passion fruit. The cakes have also been soaked with coconut liquor.”
“Oh, that explains a lot. I hope Kili and Fili didn’t get any of this though.”
Bofur reassured him: “Kili is having the Rainbow cake and Fili the Triple chocolate one.”
Thorin nodded then hummed appreciatively. “This is getting better with each bite.”
“I hope you’re talking about my cake,” a big head decorated with an even bigger chef hat peeked out from the kitchen.
“Bombur! Long time no see! And yes, you’re cake is fantastic. I think I have a new favourite,” Thorin replied kindly.
“Excellent!” Bombur beamed proudly.
“Mister Bombuuuuur, can we have another slice, please?” Kili pleaded from the kitchen.
Bombur was ready to fulfil Kili’s wish, but Thorin stopped him. “No, one is enough for today.”
Fili and Kili protested loudly, Bombur twirling his artistic, ginger moustache nervously. Thorin suddenly found himself being stared at by three pairs of eyes.
“But we could take some home for tomorrow,” he finally sighed.
Bombur hurried back in the kitchen and Thorin was sure the confectioner would pack the best cakes for them. While waiting, Thorin glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Oh, it’s earlier than I thought! Any ideas where we could go?” Thorin asked Bofur as he put on his blue coat.
“Have you been to that nice bookshop where Ori works?” Bofur asked.
Ori was Thorin’s third or fourth cousin, a twenty-two year old talented lad whose dream was to become a famous writer one day.
“No, I haven’t. I didn’t know Ori is working already,” Thorin muttered and looked at his nephews. “They grow up too fast, don’t they? Just a few years and Fili and Kili will be flying out from the family nest.”
Bofur smiled sympathetically. “No need to be sad over that. Just enjoy every moment you can spend with them. Come on, I’ll show you the way. Ori asked me in the morning to bring lots of scones to the bookshop – I think they are having some kind of event later.”
Thorin and Bofur carried many trays with different kind of scones while the boys capered jauntily beside them. They arrived at the bookstore in around five minutes. Thorin looked up and read: Gandalf’s Book Corner. They walked inside and Thorin was surprised to see how spacious it was – innumerable shelves, all neatly categorised. Moreover, there were many armchairs, small coffee tables, bean sacks and pillows placed here and there so the buyers could read peacefully. Soft music was playing in the background and somewhere an incense stick must have been burning, spreading a pleasant fruity smell in the bookshop. A familiar voice greeted them:
“What a nice surprise!”
“Ori! Come, help us with the trays! Where should we put them?”
The young man motioned with his head in the direction of the office, with a bit difficulty as he was almost smothered by the tight hugs from Fili and Kili. Ori was usually busy with his studies and he started working a few months before, so his little cousins missed him a lot. After Bofur and Thorin placed the scone trays on an empty table, Ori greeted them too with proper hugs. Thorin kind of forgot how affectionate Ori was. It seemed as the love of hugs ran in their family, the line of Durin (although Thorin would deny it with all his might, deep in his heart he was a softie).
“Lads, I have to go now. Can’t leave Bombur alone in the shop, he’ll eat everything!” Bofur said and with a wave he disappeared.
“Thorin, it’s good to see you! Have you come with the boys for the reading session?” Ori asked as he ushered Fili and Kili to the children's book section.
“No, we just went to Bofur’s and he told us you’re working in this bookshop. Why, what kind of reading session are you having today?”
“Oh, you must stay, it will be great! Bilbo Baggins is going to release his newest book here and he’ll keep a reading session for the munchkins.”
“Bilbo Baggins?” Thorin hummed while Fili and Kili practically became from curious to overexcited in a second.
Thorin’s silence was understood by them as an unwillingness to remain, so his nephews started a persuasive campaign.
“Oh, uncle, we must stay! Mister Baggins writes the coolest stories!” Fili and Kili both nodded enthusiastically.
Thorin looked at them sceptically. “The name is so familiar, but I can’t remember where I saw it.”
Fili looked at him with exasperation. “Of course, you know his name; we have every book he wrote in our room and Mum reads from them every evening for Kili.”
“Please, Uncle Thorin, let us stay! I want to hear the new story, I know all the others!” Kili commented for good measure, although Thorin had already made up his mind.
“All right, we’re going to stay if you promise me that you’re going to read the book at home,” Thorin concluded and smiled as his nephews broke out in a chorus of happy ‘yeses’.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to wait long,” Ori assured Thorin. He looked at his wristwatch and said: “Mister Baggins should be here in twenty minutes and the reading session shouldn’t last more than half an hour. You can even get the book signed afterwards it, if you want to,” he said to the boys who smiled.
“We’re going to meet a celebrity!” they exclaimed.
“Can’t wait to tell my friends from school, they are going to die from envy,” Fili chuckled and sat down with other children in a circle.
“Thorin, would you please help me with the scones?” Ori asked.
They distributed them evenly on many plates and poured juice for the children. Then Ori was called by his boss – an elder gentleman, Mister Gandalf – to meet the author in the back room.
“Mister Oakenshield, I presume,” the owner said as he extended his hand.
“Yes,” Thorin mumbled as he shook the offered hand with surprise.
“I’m Gandalf Grey, an old friend of your father’s.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t think you remember me, but I used to bring the fireworks to your father’s magnificent parties,” Mr. Gandalf said with a smile. “Come, let’s sit in the other room, so we don’t disturb the children. Ori also has to put a stand with the books, so no place for us there.”
Mr. Gandalf led Thorin to a corner from where he could see the circle of children, but not the chair which was placed for the mysterious Mister Baggins. Ori was running with heavy heaps of books and Thorin’s first instinct was to go and help the fragile boy, but Mr. Gandalf put his hand on Thorin’s forearm as if to stop him. A moment later a bald man dressed in a suit appeared beside Ori and helped him. Ori smiled, blushing terribly, and Thorin didn’t know if he was so red because he was touched by the kind gesture or he was intimidated by the tall, broad-shouldered man. The peculiar man also wore a silver earring and sported an impressing brown moustache and beard.
“That’s Dwalin, Mr. Baggins’ bodyguard. Let him put his muscles to work,” Mister Gandalf said with a sly smile. “Thorin – can I call you Thorin? – would you like to drink something? A coffee, a tea?”
“A tea would be lovely,” Thorin said, but only to get rid of the strange man who had a disconcerting twinkle in his eyes, as if he knew what was going to happen.
The children started cheering after a couple of minutes and even though Thorin tried to crane his neck to have a glimpse of this famous author, he could only see a big pair of feet clad in stripped socks.
“Hello, hello!” a kind voice greeted the children who giggled loudly. “I hope you don’t mind me coming out here in my socks, but I don’t really like shoes.”
The children laughed and Thorin saw the man wiggling his toes comically.
“I’m really excited to be here with you, I hope you’ll like my new book.”
He sat down with a puff; all Thorin could see were Mister Baggins’ small, delicate hands opening a book with a vivid cover. He couldn’t make out neither the title, nor the drawing on it. However, he noticed Ori taking a book from the pile and standing back, not far from Mister Baggins’ bodyguard. Maybe later he would be able to beckon to his cousin and ask for the book, so he could see why were Fili and Kili so crazy about these stories.
However, right when Mister Baggins started presenting the story, Gandalf turned back with Thorin’s cuppa.
“Here you are. I also brought you some books on weapons, while you wait for your nephews. I know you liked them as a boy, so I hope you’re still interested in them?”
“Yes, very much so. Thank you,” Thorin said, his surprise evident in his tone.
“I have some business to attend to, but please, take any book you like from the shelves in case you feel bored,” Gandalf patted Thorin’s shoulder amicably and disappeared between the many shelves.
Thorin took a sip of his tea as he opened one of the books, immersing himself in the album which contained pictures of the most exquisite swords ever made.
“…and then, right as they finished the merry song, there was a knock on the door.
‘He’s here,’ said the wizard.’”
Mister Baggins stopped narrating when the children gasped with surprise and Thorin looked up to see little Kili grabbing his brother’s arm in excitement.
“The wizard opened the door and there he was, the long-awaited king, with his elegant stature and noble features, looking kindly at his friends with his blue eyes. The little hobbit had never had such an illustrious guest in his house and he stood awkwardly as the king inspected him with searching eyes.”
Thorin’s mind was suddenly invaded by images.
He was in a warm house and smiled at his friends as he looked around until he finally laid his eyes on a smaller man with golden curls which had a slight reddish reflex in the dim light. He felt a smile tugging at his lips, unconvinced by the wizard’s choice.
He shook his head, blinking a few times. He thought Master Baggins to be a good storyteller if his words evoked such vivid images in his mind, but he felt confused by the decision of his mind to portray him as one of the characters. He then remembered that as a child he always imagined himself as a hero who was brave and accomplished impossible things, therefore he returned to his book. He wasn’t paying attention until he heard the children protest, probably during an interesting part of the story.
“The dwarves were fighting bravely, but the trolls were huge and powerful. The hero of our story sneaked between them easily and tried to save the ponies as he intended in the beginning, but one of the halfwit creatures noticed him. Suddenly, the dwarves found themselves being forced to surrender which they didn’t take lightly.”
Thorin gazed inside his cup and blew the tea a bit. As he watched the small waves forming in the dark liquid, he saw again the strange, memory-like images.
He stopped fighting and looked up as the enormous trolls were threatening with pulling the hobbit to pieces unless the dwarves surrendered. A single look in the hobbit’s eyes was enough; he felt a tug at his heartstrings. The hobbit put all his trust in him, watching him with eyes wide enough for the dwarf king to finally notice all the marvellous hues of green and blue. The dwarf king looked down as he thrust his sword in the ground, his companions soon following his example.
Thorin looked around feeling funny. He unzipped his leather jacket and leaned against his chair, exhaling shakily. Where did these images come from? They couldn’t be the fruits of his imagination, they just seemed too real! His pulse was uneven and strangely, he felt as if those visions were familiar to him, as if…they were a part of him. He must have experienced them some time…in a remote past.
Thorin didn’t know what to believe. He had never thought seriously about reincarnation before and still wasn’t sure if it was the case here. Maybe it was just the influence of Mister Baggins. He had a warm, pleasant voice and he used intonation very well, adding nuances to the story. Thorin closed his eyes and concentrated only on the voice – he imagined Mister Baggins’ words as golden birds flying around the bookshop and filling it with their captivating song.
He heard the sounds, but didn’t pay attention to the words and opening his eyes, it was enough to look at the children to know that the heroes of Mister Baggins’ story were facing new dangers. Thorin then looked at Ori and was surprised to find Dwalin beside him. In fact, they were both looking at the book. Then Dwalin pointed at a picture and leaned in to whisper something in Ori’s ear who nodded at first while biting his lips, then started giggling and looked at Dwalin with his cheeks glowing with redness. Thorin knew that look. He hadn’t ever seen it on his cousin, but he knew what it meant – and as Ori looked back to the book, he saw Dwalin laying his eyes on the young man, his dark eyes bearing the same glow. Thorin smiled with relief and shot Ori a knowing look when he unconsciously got even closer to the bodyguard, their arms now touching.
Thorin glanced at his watch and reckoned the reading session would soon end. He was right for Mister Baggins announced the same thing not much later:
“Dear children, we’re getting very close to the end of this book. Don’t forget that it’s not the end of the story – it will have two more parts. Where were we? Oh yes, our hobbit, wizard and dwarves all struggling to stay on the only pine tree that the wargs hadn’t toppled down. Azog, the Pale Orc, was watching them with his cold eyes, oozing hatred and evil as he disparaged the king’s father. The dwarf king could not take that; he also realised that by sacrificing himself he might be able to save his loyal friends. He plucked up his courage and ran against the orc, the little hobbit watching after him with terror in his eyes.”
Every child started to speak, demanding Mister Baggins to tell them the end, but he refused. “No, no, I won’t tell you that. You’ll have to read the book yourselves. I hope you’ll like the story; I must admit I’m quite proud of it. Thank you for coming here this afternoon.”
The children applauded and cheered, while Mister Baggins moved to a table where he could sign the books. Dwalin swiftly stepped out of Thorin’s vision to join Mister Baggins, but not before he winked at Ori who almost stumbled into Fili and Kili. The boys hurried to take a book and ran to their uncle.
“Uncle, uncle, can we buy the book, please? So Mister Baggins signs it? Please?”
Thorin nodded and handed them some money, still dazed by the visions he had just a couple of moments earlier. They weren’t clear like the previous ones. They seemed to be random images, probably a collage his mind threw at him. There were memories –yes, they had to be memories – which were frightening, saddening, ones that made him laugh and memories which filled his heart with happiness. But strangely, the happy memories weren’t completely happy either; something, like a black veil of pain, covered them. They came so quickly that he couldn’t perceive any of them – it was like trying to catch water with your fingers.
Thorin looked around, but Ori wasn’t there anymore. He needed to have a look at the book; he should have just asked his nephews to show it to him. This was ridiculous; he should have just got up, walked over to the stand and take one himself, but something told him that he shouldn’t yet face Mister Baggins. He then noticed Ori talking to another employee and beckoned him there.
“Ori, may I borrow that book you’re holding?” Thorin asked and his cousin raised his eyebrow as he placed the book in Thorin’s hand. Luckily, he was called back by his colleague, so Thorin didn’t have to explain why he needed the book.
Thorin looked at the title: An Unexpected Journey. The cover featured all the characters: the wizard was in the front, followed by the king, then the hobbit and the rest of the dwarves, travelling among green, lofty mountains. Thorin smiled apprehensively as he opened the book and leafed through it. He was curious about the pictures. The first ones featured the hobbit and the hole he lived in, then the wizard. Gradually, more dwarves entered the scene. When Thorin turned the page he forgot to take a breath. There he was, the dwarf king in his royal blue garments entering the hobbit’s home proudly. Thorin stroked his short beard nervously and wondered if anyone else had the crazy thoughts that were racing in his mind.
He finally stood up and decided to have a word with this Mister Baggins. Or should he say with Master Hobbit? He stopped after a few steps and used one of the bookcases to hide from view. He peered from behind it to notice that most of the crowd was gone; Mister Baggins was dedicating a book for a girl while Fili and Kili stood behind so they could talk with him.
“There you go, Melissa. Hope you will like the book!” Mister Baggins said with a smile as he handed the signed book to the girl and looked up curiously.
Thorin pulled back his head instantly and leaned against the bookcase, clutching the book tightly to himself. His cheeks were flushed; he prayed to the Gods that he hadn’t been noticed. What did his life come to, spying on people like an ordinary thief! Otherwise he told himself that the little hobbit looked almost unchanged, though he did mind that Mister Baggins wasn’t sporting those lovely curls anymore. His hair was short now, but nevertheless he was still handsome.
“To whom am I to dedicate this book?” Mister Baggins asked kindly.
“Fili…”
“and Kili.”
“You’re brothers, aren’t you? I’m really glad you came, boys.”
“We love your books, Mister Baggins! I think this story is going to be my favourite,” Kili said excitedly as he watched the author writing weird lines in the book.
“But Mister Baggins, the dwarf king will be all right, won’t he? The hobbit will help him, right? He promised to help them get back their home,” Fili said, fiddling with his coat’s zipper. “He promised them. Uncle says that a promise is a promise and that one should keep it.”
Mister Baggins sighed, his eyes clouded by many thoughts as he watched something in the distance, as if remembering a promise that was yet to be fulfilled.
“ Do not cry, dear Bilbo. I promise you that we will meet again in another life.”
“You are absolutely right. Do you think after so many adventures he could just let the king be the prey of ugly wargs and orcs?”
Fili and Kili looked at each other and nodded seriously.
“Here’s your book,” Mister Baggins said as he got up and looked after Dwalin. “So, Fili and Kili, did you come alone?” the author asked and looked around curiously.
“No…”
“It is nice to meet you in person, Mister Baggins.”
Thorin stood behind his nephews, his warm hands stroking their tiny shoulders. His blue eyes looked up slowly from the ground, just in time to see the writer open his mouth a little and frown, but Mister Baggins soon readjusted his features.
“Likewise, Mister…?”
“Oakenshield. Thorin Oakenshield.”
They shook hands and neither of them gave any external sign about the electric sparkles they felt when their fingers touched. Still staring at Mister Baggins, Thorin said to his nephews: “Go and find Ori. I’ll catch up with you soon.”
“It’s all right, Dwalin, you can go to Ori as well,” Mister Baggins turned to his bodyguard with a smile.
When they were finally alone, the two men stared at each other, not daring to speak first, because they didn’t know what to expect from the other. Finally, the curiosity of Mister Baggins won: “Tell me, Mister Oakenshield, do you like lurking?”
Thorin frowned; was the hobbit always this impish?
“I saw you. You were lurking behind that shelf. Very subtle.”
Thorin’s cheeks flushed, but he couldn’t stand not to tease the writer. “As subtle as your references,” he said and showed to Mister Baggins a drawing of the hobbit and the dwarf king’s first meeting in the book.
The writer looked down guiltily, then back at Thorin with eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s not my fault that you look so much like how I imagined my character. Although if you look closely, you’ll notice that the dwarf king has long hair in the illustration.”
“Oh, you mean something like this?” Thorin asked and took out a picture from his wallet.
The photo was taken five years ago; Thorin was holding baby Kili on it who was clutching one of Thorin’s black curls in his tiny hands. Mister Baggins’ eyes softened; Thorin was the same caring uncle he had always been.
“I’m sorry, your majesty. I didn’t recognise you without your crown of hair.”
“I could say the same, burglar. Where are the curls?” Thorin asked with a smile and sat down on the table, watching the writer as he did the same.
“You know, they are not fashionable anymore,” Bilbo Baggins grimaced, his impish eyes never leaving Thorin’s face.
They had so many things to tell each other, but Thorin had to know something very important. “Tell me, Bilbo,” and he whispered the writer’s name, “how does the story end?”
“You’re as curious as your nephews. I’ll tell you what I told them: read the book.”
“No, not the first part. The whole…thing,” Thorin muttered.
“Ah, that.”
Images of the hobbit’s eyes in tears crossed Thorin’s mind and he still felt the ancient pain sting his heart. “In the old version…”
“The old version is rubbish,” Bilbo exclaimed.
Betrayal. The word burnt red in front of his eyes when his enemies announced that they possessed the king’s biggest treasure. When he realised who gave them the Arkenstone, he felt all his power leaving his body. Betrayal…
“Ah, I believe the king has to learn to control his temper and be more forgiving,” Thorin said, embarrassed by the harsh actions he committed in his past life. “I’m sorry, I was a complete fool.”
“Well, the hobbit should also learn to tell the truth and not act behind the back of his friends,” Bilbo whispered his confession.
Thorin exhaled shakily. “Can’t we change the end?”
Bilbo nodded confidently. “We don’t need the bloody stone or gold or any treasure and I do hope that dragons are extinct by now,” he chuckled. “We will get it right this time.”
Thorin nodded; he was so proud of his hobbit in that moment that he hugged Bilbo to himself, surprising the shorter man the second time in their history with an unexpected hug. Just like in the old version, Bilbo Baggins frowned at first, but soon his arms encircled Thorin and beamed in the warm embrace, Thorin smiling serenely as well. But in this new version, Thorin nuzzled his bearded jaw against Bilbo’s sensitive neck, placing a quick kiss there, and Bilbo didn’t have to let go of his eternal soul mate because decency prescribed it so; therefore he hugged him more tightly and wished that he would once have the ability to put into words the happiness he felt in that moment.