One (Kili X Reader)

~That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates~

(WARNING, THIS CHAPTER WILL BE VERY LONG. MOST CHAPTERS WILL NOT BE THIS LONG)

"My dear Frodo." Bilbo wrote as he recounted what had happened this day," You had asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures and while I can I say I have told you the truth...... I may not have told you all of it. I am old now Frodo. I'm not the same hobbit I once was. I think it is time for you to know what really happened. It began long ago, in a land far away to the East. The like of which you will not find in the world today. There was the city of Dale, it's markets know far and wide full of the bounties of vine and vale. Peaceful and prosperous. 

For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-earth: Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, King under the Mountain, mightiest of the dwarf lords. Thror ruled with utter surety never doubting that his house would endure for his line lay secure in the lives of his son and grandson. Ah Frodo, Erebor, built deep within the mountain itself. The beauty of this fortress city was legend. It's wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewed from rock and in great seems of gold running like rivers through stone. 

The skill of the dwarves were unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Ever the delve deeper down into the dark and that is where they found it. The Heart of the Mountain: The Arkenstone. Thror named it the king's jewel, he took it as a sign, a sign that his wright to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him, even the great Elven king, Thranduil. AS the great wealth of the dwarves grew, they're store of good will ran thin. No one knows exactly what began the rift, the elves say the dwarves stole their treasure, the dwarves tell another tale. They say the elf king refused to give them their rightful pay. It is sad Frodo how old alliances can be broken, how friendships between people can be lost and for what? Slowly the days turned sourer and the watchful nights closed in.

Thror's love of gold had grown to fierce, a sickness had begun to grow within him. It was a sickness of the mind and were sickness thrives bad things will follow. The first they heard was noise like a hurricane coming down from the north, the pines of the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot dry wind. He was a fire-drake from the north, Smaug had com. Such wanton death was dealt that day, but this city of men was nothing to Smaug, his eye was set another prize. For dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire. Erebor was lost. For a dragon will guard his plunder for as long as he lives. Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the elves that day or any day since. Robbed of their homeland the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mightly people brought low. The young dwarf prince took work where he coudl find it, laboring in the villiages of men but alway he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon the trees like torches blazing bright. For he had seen dragon fire in the sky and a city turned to ash. And he never forgave and he never forgot. 

Far away in another corner of the world, dragons were only make believe. A party trick conjured by wizards on Midsummer's Eve. No more frightening than fairy dust. That my dear Frodo is where I come in. It was the beginning of an unlikely friendship that has lasted all my life. But it is not the start of my story, for me it began... well it began as you might expect....

In a hole in the ground, their lived a hobbit. 

Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole filled with worms and oozy smells. This was a hobbit hole and that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home."

As Bilbo finished writing the last sentence he heard the soft footsteps of a person coming from behind him. He set his quill down along with the two photo's he held in his other hand. He turned his head to see his nephew Frodo walking in with the days mail. 

"Thank you." Bilbo said looking down at his work. 

"What's this?" Frodo asked after he set down the mail. He had picked up a small drawing of a younger Bilbo and smiled down at it.