Chapter Text
He had put it off far too long. Fíli knew it, and Bilbo knew it. Really, it wasn’t his fault that other pressing matters had cropped up: Men and Elves threatening to start a war if they are not given their dues, goldsickness, and a certain red-headed elf that really made Bilbo think that perhaps hiding the Name on his wrist would just benefit everyone involved.
But he was about to do something. Something entirely too risky, though it had to be done for the sake of the Company. And Bilbo felt like he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t just grit his teeth, talk to Kíli, and get the whole ordeal over and done with.
He hated Names for many reasons, and he always had. After seeing what it did to his family, Bilbo had almost taken a blade to his wrist to cut the cursed thing off and be done with it. But he had been drunk when he got the knife, and he passed out before he could truly consider it, deciding that it was for the best to just leave things be once he was sober.
Now, though, he almost wished he had. For Kíli was his own dwarf, possibly having an interest in someone who was certainly not Bilbo, and now he was going to mess with it all by doing what he was about to do.
He had told Balin that he needed to speak to Kíli in private, even though Thorin had been keeping his nephews close in the treasury as he searched for a stone that was now in Bilbo’s pocket. It was a hard task for the old dwarf, but soon Balin was walking over with a rather harried, tired-looking archer at his heels. Bilbo didn’t even give Kíli time to ask questions. Just lead him down a corridor that was scarcely lit: The only privacy he could find at such short notice.
“Bilbo, what’s wrong?” Kíli finally demanded. “Balin said you needed to speak with me, and that it was urgent. Are you hurt?”
Bilbo could only thank his lucky stars that Kíli didn’t seem as effected as the other members of the Company. “I’m fine, Kíli, but…” He muttered, clutching at his wrist. “I… I don’t know what will happen from here on out, and I’m worried that I won’t be able to… Not if something happens…”
“Won’t be able to what?” Kíli pressed. “Bilbo, what are you going on about? And why are you holding your hand like that?”
He bit his lip. “I don’t… I don’t want this to affect our friendship, Kíli, that’s the last thing I want. And I don’t… I don’t want what I’m about to tell you drag you through the mud.”
“Bilbo, I’m concerned.” He breathed, and Bilbo watched Kíli’s expression grow pinched. “Please, whatever it is, just tell me!”
Bilbo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he undid the fabric around his wrist. “I… I think it’s better that I show you…” He muttered, showing Kíli the Name on his wrist.
Kíli frowned at it as he scanned the runes there, his eyes widening as he clutched at Bilbo’s wrist as he seemed to finally see what was there.
“B-Bilbo, that’s-! That’s my Name on your wrist.” Kíli whispered, looking at him with wild eyes. “Bilbo, why do you have my Name on your wrist!?”
“All hobbits have Names, though it’s been quite a long time since a dwarrow Name has shown before me.” Bilbo explained. “It’s… The Names represent people that are going to be important to us. Whether they are enemies, friends, or…”
“Ones?” Kíli breathed, face slack.
Bilbo swallowed, and it was a difficult thing to do. “O-Or that, yes…”
He saw many emotions flicker behind Kíli’s eyes before they furrowed slightly. “You knew…” Kíli breathed. “You knew that it was my Name on your wrist.”
“I-I didn’t know until recently, Kíli, I promise, I-.”
“How long?”
“Kíli-!”
“How long?”
“Since… Since we escaped Thranduil’s dungeons. Fíli saw it when he came to check on me.”
Kíli growled, letting go of Bilbo’s hand to tug on his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me!?”
“I didn’t want to burden you!” Bilbo snapped.
“Burden me?” Kíli mocked. “What right do you have to presume what would burden me?”
“The right that it is my wrist that bears your Name!” Bilbo hissed. “And I did not want you to have to deal with this knowledge until we weren’t in constant peril and Erebor was reclaimed!”
“That still gives you no right to hide this from me!” Kíli hissed right back.
Bilbo glared. “Tell me, Kíli, how exactly you would’ve handled this if I told you before now?” He demanded. “Would it be any better? Worse?”
“I would’ve at least known!” Kíli bellowed, and it threw Bilbo off kilter to see tears brimming his eyes. “I would’ve at least been given a choice…!”
“Kíli…” He breathed after a few moments, because he had no idea that the prince would react this way.
Kíli’s lips trembled fiercely, even though he took a deep breath and schooled his features. “Were you really going to tell me?” He asked. “Or are you just telling me now to clear your conscience?”
That hurt, and in Bilbo’s mind, it was entirely uncalled for. “Of course I would’ve told you…” He insisted. “I was never going to withhold…”
But Kíli didn’t let him finish. Instead, the prince stormed off, brushing past a bewildered Balin and leaving Bilbo standing there, numbly moving to cover his wrist back up.
“Did it go as well as you planned?” Balin asked as Bilbo approached.
“No,” He answered truthfully, and his voice waivered with it. “But it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
x
Bilbo sat in the tent he was given, fiddling with the fabric on his wrist as he replayed events that had occurred earlier in his head. For they had some unexpected turns that he could never have predicted.
He expected Thorin to be angry when he found out that Bilbo was the one who gave Bard and Thranduil the Arkenstone, but he did not expect him to attempt throwing him off the mountain.
He expected the Company to be angry at him, but he didn’t expect that they’d be more shocked that Thorin tried to kill him.
Most importantly of all, though, was that he didn’t expect Kíli to barrel into his uncle before Thorin could dangle him over the edge. And he certainly didn’t expect said prince to follow him into the elven camps with his brother once he was banished. It was shocking, yet hurtful, because Bilbo half-suspected that Kíli had only done any of those things because he felt like he had to. All because of a Name.
He was stewing, thinking about what was going to come, when the flaps of his tent were pulled open. He was once again surprised to see that it was Kíli coming in, but he was being quiet about it. Careful.
“Kíli?” Bilbo asked. “Is something the matter?”
“No, not really.” Kíli replied, stepping in fully and letting the tent flap close behind him. “Does there have to be?”
“Well, after what happened…” Bilbo muttered, swallowing harshly. “I did think you’d want to come here voluntarily…”
Kíli cringed a little at that, and Bilbo couldn’t help but feel guilty. Still, it was hard to think anything else when the prince ran from him after their last conversation.
“Fíli told me what you told him.” He finally stated. “Not… Not all of it, but… He gave me an idea why you were… hesitant.”
Bilbo sighed, for of course Fíli would. He was incredibly protective of his brother, sure, but he also had the tendency of being protective of him, as well. Why? He didn’t know.
“Why…” Kíli continued softly, daring to take a step further. “Why didn’t you tell me…?”
Bilbo merely scooted over on the cot he was perched on, offering Kíli a place to sit which he took warily.
“I wanted to.” He explained. “And I was going to, but… Then you ran off, and… I didn’t know if stopping you was a good option, then…”
“I’m sorry…” Kíli said.
“No, no. You were angry, and I admit, I probably should’ve handled all that better myself, but…” Bilbo muttered, trailing off, for how was he supposed to continue?
Kíli shifted then, and Bilbo saw that he was turning to face him properly. “Can you tell me now?”
Bilbo hid his shudder with a shift of his own. “As I said before, hobbits have different views on Names. Most of the time, we see them merely as friends, or people who will have a heavy influence on our lives. Other times, we view them as enemies, or someone we will compete with for the rest of our lives. Rarely, we view them as partners. People we’re meant to be with, romantically, for eternity.” He explained. “My parents were the rare type, bearing each other’s Names. They were lucky, though, since they made each other happy and they loved each other very much…”
A lump formed in his throat, and he had to clear it before continuing. “One year, we had a very harsh winter, and my father got quite sick. We thought he got better, but… When the last of the snow melted, he passed away.” He continued, now feeling his eyes sting. “My mother died a few months later. She… She wasted away before my very eyes, and I could do nothing. I couldn’t keep her alive. I wasn’t enough…”
Bilbo took a deep, fortifying breath before looking Kíli in the eye, seeing how saddened he was. “I didn’t- It wasn’t like I was mortified or disgusted that you were my Name, Kíli. Please know that I… it’s far from that. But…” He explained. “But I didn’t want you to feel forced into this. I didn’t want you to think that you had to choose me. But most importantly… If you did, well… return my… I didn’t want you to mourn me. I didn’t want you to waste away like my mother did. I don’t want that for you. I just want you to live a long, happy life… Not one where you’re forced to be tied down to me…”
Kíli had ducked his head some time during his story, and Bilbo could see his lips trembling despite his hair covering his face. He half expected Kíli to run again, or perhaps leave him for good. Either way, he did not predict a positive outcome from here on out.
“What if I want to be?”
“W-What?” Bilbo asked, shocked, because he never would’ve predicted that. Not from Kíli. Not after everything.
But Kíli lifted his head, gently taking Bilbo’s hand, and he saw the tears glistening in his eyes.
“I know we have different lifespans, Bilbo. And it saddens me greatly to hear that you have seen and gone through so much…” He spoke softly, fiddling with the fabric on Bilbo’s wrist. “But I… while we may not bear their names, we feel and hear the call of our Ones in our hearts. And I… I knew you were mine from the moment you opened the door to us. And I wanted more than anything for you to feel the same way. And to know that you do… And that this…”
Kíli tugged at the tie, an unasked question, and Bilbo nodded numbly at him as he unraveled it.
“I can’t promise you that I won’t mourn you when you die,” He whispered, voice hoarse as he traced the runes gently with a finger. “Nor that I won’t somehow die before you. But I… Bilbo I would rather mourn and remember what time we could have together instead of mourn what time we refused ourselves because of fear. And I would not be forced to be with you in any sense, because I want to be. Because I… I love you… And you’re my One…”
Bilbo felt his eyes burn as he looked Kíli dead in the eyes again. “Is that really what you want?”
“More than anything.” He answered vehemently, voice cracking. “But the important question is what do you want?”
Bilbo sniffled then, bowing his head to rest it gently on Kíli’s shoulder. “I want to be selfish…” He whispered. “I want you to want a long, happy life with me…”
Strong arms then wound tightly around him, pulling him flush to a warm body as some of his curls grew damp. “Then we shall have it. Together.”
Some great thing in Bilbo eased at his words, and he practically collapsed into Kíli, trusting, knowing that he would not waiver. “Together, then.” He whispered then, doing his best to hold Kíli in return. “For as long as the Valar will allow it.”
“Forever,” Kíli told him, voice firm. “They would rue the day they didn’t allow that to happen.”
Bilbo couldn’t help but giggle at his words, snuggling close as they shared a laugh and Kíli placed kisses on his head and ears.
They did not know that Fíli was outside their tent. Didn’t see that he had peered in on them to make sure they were alright.
And they certainly didn’t hear him mutter, “About time…” Before he walked away.