Fathers and Sons

Chapter 12

Note: yes I know Bilbo doesn't really have a sister but this is au so he does now. Also, I wanted to mention that Asphodel is a character from my original novel series which I self-published in 1015. I kind of adapted her for the Tolkien universe. She and my other OC Brenna have been my signature OCs for years now and tend to appear in all my Hobbit fics at one point or another. Also, I mentioned this before, but I wanted to remind everyone that the dwarf scenes in my story are actually a fic I wrote many years ago that I'm 'recycling' for this fic.

Bilbo Baggins was a very respectable hobbit, despite what his Took heritage may imply. It's true that in his youth, he had exhibited a somewhat adventurous spirit and indeed it wasn't something he could completely deny. But ever since he had inherited Bag End, several years ago following his mother's death, he had gained a reputation for respectability and reliance. He was always on time for any proper event, always well dressed and well mannered. His prize winning vegetable garden was the envy of his neighbors and he always kept Bag End in perfect order.

That is until the heat spell brought three unsavory characters to his door. The hobbits, who relied on their farming and agriculture, were not too adversely affected by the heat. They were experts in the arts of growing things, after all. With much effort, they had managed to save their crops from the worst of the heat and Bilbo's tomatoes still took first place at the fair. His pantry was still well stocked, and the shire was still a land of plenty.

On that mid august eve, as Bilbo had just sat down to enjoy a meal of fresh fish when he heard a loud thump against his door. Not quite a knock, as if something had hit it. Curious, he glanced in that direction and listened. Another thump, louder this time. Who could be at his door at this hour?

Hurrying over, Bilbo yanked open the door and frowned. There stood the most homely looking dwarf he had ever seen. Staring at Bilbo with dark, empty eyes, he staggered into the house before Bilbo could say anything. His clothes were in rags, his hair hung in knots from his head, and Bilbo could clearly see the outline of all the bones in his face. A large gash lined his face. He looked as if his legs would give out at any moment.

But that wasn't all. Draped over his shoulders were two more dwarves. Both seemed to be asleep- or possibly dead, Bilbo wasn't too sure.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked as the dwarf shoved his way into his house.

"We need food," the dwarf mumbled weakly, "And shelter. Where can I put them?"

"Them? oh uh... here in the parlour, I suppose," Bilbo followed behind as the dwarf carefully deposited the other two onto the long sofa under the parlour window. Bilbo got a better look at them now as the dwarf arranged them on the sofa with the blonde on the left end, the dark-haired dwarf on the right, their heads resting against one another. They were both very young, he noted. The brunette's face was covered with the short stubble of a beginning beard.

"Are they alive?" Bilbo asked with concern as he glanced at the two younger dwarves. They were both seriously emaciated, and the blonde one seemed to have a strange yellow tint to his skin.

"Yes..." the older dwarf said wearily as he kneeled weakly beside the sofa and put his hand against each of their necks. "They are ill and they need food. Do you have a master of apothecary in your community, Master Hobbit?"

"Ah yes..." Bilbo said, "My sister Azalea is the herbalist. She's quite good... ah, they don't have anything contagious, do they?"

"No," the dwarf said hesitantly, "... I'm not sure."

Bilbo didn't like the hesitance in his voice, "They're fine, I'm sure," he said, "uh well let me go get her then... ah, who are you, again? I didn't quite catch your name."