Chapter Text
"How long will we be apart?"
Harry picks up the spiked crown of sharp, silver sticks, bitter red berries, and fall-colored leaves. He had made it about two millennia prior as an Autumn Equinox gift for his husband. Their son had a hand in picking the berries, at his request, and was absolutely delighted to know what they were for when the gift had been revealed.
He places the crown back on the pillow of which it previously rested.
Quietly, he answers: "I'm unsure l...just know that I must travel west, past the mountains."
A hand larger than his own cups his cheek to turn his head so that he may stare into the eyes of his dearheart. "To be apart from you, even for a small amount of time, will bring me heartache."
It's a harsh truth.
One they share.
Harry turns his head a little to kiss the palm. "I cannot fight this feeling I have, my husband."
His cheeks are held tenderly while a forehead presses against his own. "There is a darkness beyond these lands that will not lie dormant for much longer."
Harry moves his head up to press his lips to a warm cheek. "I know," he whispers. "And yet, I must go."
"And yet, you must go."
When he hears Bilbo slam the door to his home shut, Harry peeks his head around the corner and watches—highly amused—as Bilbo stands still and silent for a moment before peaking out of the window closest to him.
Harry sighs softly when he sees Gandalf's distorted face peer into the window, causing Bilbo to leap out of sight. There's an odd scratching sound at Bilbo's recently painted door before the gentle hobbit peeks out the window again and sighs in relief. Seeing now that his friend is moving towards relaxation, Harry steps into the hallway.
"May I ask why Gandalf the Grey stopped by to speak to you?"
He had sensed Gandalf miles away and chose to stay in the Shire, in Bag-End, for most of the day.
Adjust, and then proceed as he has often relayed to others when things didn't go according to plan.
There is something strange about the wizard, and he knows for certain that Gandalf would say much the same about him—two magical beings that appear very similar but are quite different.
This isn't to say he didn't necessarily trust Gandalf, just that he is cautious of the grey wizard's intentions.
Bilbo jumps rather high into the air upon being startled. "Oh goodness, Harry!"
Harry holds up his hands in a placating gesture and smiles apologetically. "Sorry, my friend. I didn't mean to startle you."
The hobbit moves towards the kitchen. "It's alright, it's alright." Harry follows after him quietly, watching as his little friend prepares tea as it is nearing four o'clock. "That Gandalf," Bilbo mutters. "Fantastical fireworks, absurd requests!" He whirls around to face Harry. "He asked me to go on an adventure with him! Me!"
Harry hums thoughtfully before waving his hand and, together, both man and hobbit watch as the teapot to Bilbo's favorite set settles near him and the teacups with matching saucers land neatly on the kitchen table. The milk and sugar dance through the air and land near the teacups. Rose and vanilla mingle in the air as Bilbo mixes his tea flavors and expresses quiet gratitude.
"I do recall quite a few stories you shared of your youth in which you went on many adventures, some even beyond Bree."
Bilbo huffs. "Well, yes..." He suddenly scowls. "But my adventuring days are over! I am a respectable, gentle hobbit!" Tea done, he carefully moves it to the table and takes a seat.
"Peace, Bilbo." Harry pours for both of them. "If you're adventuring days are done, then they're done. Gandalf will simply have to pick another individual."
"Thank you," Bilbo says as he adds five sugar cubes and a bit of milk. Two careful sips, and then: "I just can't leave Bag-End! What would others think?!"
Just what are you up to, Gandalf?
Hobbit cups are quite small, so Harry finishes his tea quickly.
"I will hex Gandalf the next time I see him," he tells Bilbo in a merry tone, half-joking. The hobbit stares at him with wide eyes. "For he has planted the seed of consideration within you, and it distresses you."
Bilbo chuckles then. "Do not go around hexing grey wizards on my behalf, Harry."
"A little...zap might do him some good."
They finish the entire pot of tea within half an hour's time and, with the sun still up, Bilbo suggests they go to the market for meat and dry goods.
"I would love to accompany you to the market, but it is the last Highday of the month."
Bilbo immediately nods in understanding. "Of course! I've forgotten!" He looks outside and then to Harry in alarm. "You should have left hours ago!"
"I had a late start today due to poor sleep." Not quite nightmares, but none peaceful enough to count among dreams. "Unfortunately, that means I will return late this evening. Do not feel the need to wait up for me."
Bilbo, stubborn and a huge worrywart, pursed his lips. "I shall have a delightful dinner put aside for you, in the hopes that sleep comes to you easily tonight."
Harry just smiles, his heart filled with warmth. "And I thank you, Master Baggins~"
His friend scoffed before making a shooing motion with his hands, his eyes twinkling with humor.
When Harry slides off his horse, the sun has already begun to set, and a slight chill is in the air. He looks around at the spot atop the hill that he has silently claimed as his own, where his magic has left a mark after many trips to this particular spot.
You are well?
Harry smiles to himself. 'Yes, my love. Only a bit tardy this evening. It happens to the best of us.'
A smooth chuckle sounds clearly in his mind, leaving behind a slight tingle in his ears. Harry puts up a barrier 20 feet from the smooth, cool rock he sits on and forms his meditative position of crisscross legs and relaxed shoulders. His horse—a beautiful, strong, and fairly large beast—trots up to him and nuzzles his cheek before moving away to eat nearby by.
'I had intended to leave on time, but Bilbo was visited by the grey wizard, and he said a few things that upset Bilbo. I will likely hex him at some point for this.' Harry sighs softly to himself. 'I worry now.'
Gandalf's visits are never random.
He's trying to drag Bilbo into something.
Concern quickly washes over him, as it often does when his dearheart feels his less-than-positive emotions.
I wish for you to return home.
An often expressed statement, one conveying longing but not quite a plea.
Harry closes his eyes.
He feels his magical core tighten, tighten, tightentightentighten painfully and then relax.
'I know, my love. And I'm sorry.'
It's well into the evening when Harry begins the trek back to the Shire. Bilbo will soon have his final meal of the day and then likely plop himself down into his armchair by the fire with a book to await Harry's return. He smiles to himself when the border of the Shire comes into view.
As soon as he sets foot into the Shire, Harry goes still, for he senses beings that are certainly not hobbits within; the energy is stronger. There is no hostility in the air, but he hastens his horse towards Bag-End nonetheless. The energy emitted by Gandalf grows stronger as he rides closer.
When he rounds the corner of a small hill, there is a figure in the night walking along the path that leads towards Bilbo's home, a few scattered hobbit homes in between. It stops occasionally to look at what might be a map. The figure is well-built and a bit too tall to be a hobbit, and Harry knows he is not of the race of men. This only leads to one conclusion.
The path is just wide enough that he will be able to go around the figure to get to Bilbo's home.
Still, a glimpse at a regal, clearly dwarven face has him pause.
"Are you lost, friend?" If the dwarf wasn't on guard before, he certainly is now. And though he doesn't outwardly appear hostile, the subtle grip of his sword is enough for Harry to proceed with caution. "Peace, Master Dwarf. I merely want to help."
"Why?" The dwarf speaks in a gruff manner, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Not even the peace and tranquility of the Shire seems to have warmed him to welcome Harry's help this evening. A great shame, really. "What business does a man have among the halflings?"
Harry chuckles quietly, despite the irritation now resting on the dwarf's face. "Why? Because if I can help, I will. As for my business, I could ask the same of you. I simply reside in the Shire for the time being."
The dwarf returns his gaze to the path. "My business is my own."
Biting back another chuckle, Harry nods despite the dwarf no longer looking at him. "Fair enough, Master Dwarf. However, if you're lost, allow me to help you. Whom do you seek at this late hour?"
While the dwarf is still irritated, no malice or ill intent is coming from him. Harry is confident enough to lead him on his way. While no one besides Gandalf and the occasional ranger crosses into the Shire these days, it's certainly possible a hobbit or two has befriended a dwarf in one of the taverns in Bree recently.
It's silent for a moment before the dwarf lets out a frustrated sigh. "Alright." The dwarf jerks to look at Harry. "I am looking for the home of Bilbo Baggins."
Bilbo has never once mentioned befriending a dwarf.
"Master Baggins is a very dear friend of mine, Master Dwarf. He has never once mentioned any dwarf friend of his in the years I've known him." Although Harry keeps his voice pleasant, he knows the dwarf catches his undertone.
"I mean him no harm," the dwarf snaps at him, openly glaring now. "I was sent to seek him out by Gandalf the Grey, for he might be of service to me."
Harry stares at him, annoyance starting to bubble beneath his skin. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "When I see Gandalf, I really will hex him. Might turn him into a beetle and keep him trapped in a jar." He pays no mind to the dwarf's bewildered expression as he climbs down from his horse.
The action has the dwarf tense, but the words that fall from his mouth next only have Harry nod solemnly.
"He has no idea we're coming."
"I truly doubt he—" Harry freezes as the words catch up to him. "Did you say 'we?'"
It is the dwarf's turn to nod solemnly. "My company has likely arrived by now."
"How many?" Harry asks, feeling dread for his hobbit friend.
"12."
12 dwarves in Bilbo's home.
The hobbit must be going mad.
"Let us make haste, Master Dwarf. While Bilbo is typically mild-mannered, he does have quite the temper when his space is invaded without prior permission."
Harry takes the reins of his horse and moves quickly, with the dwarf hot on his tail.