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Vrerin; Son of Frerin

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~*Gandalf’s P.O.V.*~

“So, you want us to bring a hobbit on our quest? How do we know that he won’t betray us, turn back when it starts getting hard, or even leave us to die if enemies come and we are injured?” Thorin questioned. “For Mahal’s sake Thorin, give the lad a chance. Not everyone are like men.” Balin commented, turning to his king and cousin. “Yeah Uncle, maybe he’s nice and a fighter.” Fili said. “Maybe he’s around our age! Gandalf, what’s his age? What’s he like?” Kili asked.

“No Thorin, he would never do that; especially after watching his parents, Queen Belladonna Took and Prince Frerin Durin, be killed in front of him on his 5th Name Day. He’s 63 now, Kili; and he is very kind. He’s overprotective of children of any race, what family he has left, and those he becomes close to. He is ¾ dwarf/ ¼ hobbit, so he’s quite the warrior, even though hobbits don’t fight. Why, if I had to tell someone of the number of times he was forced to fight in wars; it would be 27 times. And that’s not including the Fell Winter.” I answered, while the dwarrow just stared at me in shock and horror.

“He’s my brother’s son? And he was forced to fight in wars under aged! Was there no one on his Hobbit side to care for him?! To stop those people from forcibly taking him?!” Thorin shouted, steam coming out his ears. “The only Hobbit family he has that cares is the Took clan, but they have children that needs caring for. Also, Dwarrow age differently than Hobbits, you become adults at the age of 75; whereas for Hobbits, they come of age at 33. Because of that, they believed he was already of age. I haven’t been around since he was 5, so I couldn’t correct them or stop it. The only Took who knew this was his mother, but she was killed before she could teach the rest of the Tooks about your race. If she had succeeded, then they would’ve known and protected him better.” I replied, making Thorin and the others feel better. “Well be assured that when we get there, we will be correcting a lot of things.” Balin stated more to put Thorin, Fili, and Kili at ease, than the others. “Well Tharkûn, show us the way.” Dwalin told me.

~~TIME SKIP~~

As soon as we walked into Hobbiton; the Dwarrow found themselves surrounded by fauntlings, who had all of their weapons in hand, and 3 tween men, who looked to be in charge. “Who are you, what are you, and why have you brought weapons into the Shire?” The dark-haired tween asked, readying his sword. “I am Gandalf the Grey; a wizard and a member of the white council. This is Thorin Oakensheild, Fili Durin, Kili Durin, Dwalin, Balin, Oin, Gloin, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, and Ori. They’re Dwarrow and we’re here to talk to Thorin’s nephew, King Vrerin Bilbo Durin-Took. Where can we find him?” I told them.

“Thorin Oakensheild? THE Thorin Oakensheild?! Fauntlings return their weapons to the places you found them; Khagam said Dwarrow are friends, Men are not.” The younger blonde told the Fauntlings; while they did as told, the dark-haired one spoke up though not in the language we were expecting. “Men gajamu, Thanu men. Men imn Rayad Aragorn II Elessar. 'Alâ nu' Rayad Boromir ra Rayad Faramir; ai-menu ra menu khiluz duzhuk.” Aragorn stated. Boromir stepped forward saying, “We will show you to our adoptive Khagam. He’ll more than likely be happy to meet you.” Turning to the right, they motioned for us to follow them and we did all the way to Bag End.

~*Thorin’s P.O.V.*~

I was upset, confused, and hurt. ‘Why wasn’t I told about my youngest irakdashat or that my brother stayed here until he died.’ As I refocused my attention to where Vrerin was, I noticed we were already inside his home, heading towards the stairs to the basement. “I apologize now if the underground forge is too hot for some of you. This is where he spends his time when he’s not training, teaching others how to survive and use weapons, spending time with us on patrol, or taking care of us or his duties.” Aragorn had stated.

As we entered, we stared in awe at the forge. The forge was almost as big as the one in Erebor; mithril pillars were carved beautifully, golden armors and weapons on the right wall, mithril armors and weapons on the middle wall, and silver armors and weapons on the left wall. In the middle of the room was the tanning rack, workbench, forge & anvil, smelter, and grindstone. My youngest irakdashat was at his workbench, resizing a set of pure gold battle armor that had mithril and silver weaving and intertwining in complicated patterns. “Vrerin.”