Au: Kili will feature in the next chapter. Then we'll get some kinkiness!

Pairing: Bilbo/Kili

Rating: The Prologue K+, after that Mature

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the dirty mind that allowed this story to be written. But give me one of the actor's hearts and I'll be happy for the rest of my life. Or reviews, they make me happy too.

Summary: Bilbo/Kili, Frodo is their son

As inspired by: Kink Prompt on LJ HobbitKink

"Only You"

"Prologue"

The first time the hobbit ever made a mention of it to his 'nephew' was during their stay at Rivendell. Bilbo was already old by that time and his bones were weary. He felt like time was slipping away from his fingers and that was perhaps why the suggestion slipped from his lips.

"My old sword, Sting ." Bilbo took up his sword, an attribute once referred to as a letter opener, and offered it to Frodo. The boy looked at him and seemed to hesitate. "Here, take it, take it."

Finally convinced by his uncle, Frodo drew the sword from its sheath and looked at it in awe. Bilbo was very generous and the gift surprised the small hobbit. "It's so light!" He exclaimed as he admired the blade.

"Yes, yes," The older hobbit scurried around him. "Made by the elves, you know. The blade glows blue when orcs are close and it's times like that, my lad, when you have to be extra careful."

Frodo's attention was fixed on the sword and he hardly noticed the affectionate way in which Bilbo was addressing him. The older hobbit had always been watching over him and warning him for as long as the young hobbit could remember. Which wasn't so odd at all because Frodo had not known any other caretaker than Bilbo Baggins, his uncle, his kin.

His parents, Frodo had been told, had died when he was young. It was a boat accident. And so he was left in the care of an overly protective uncle. However, tonight something different sounded in Bilbo's voice as he spoke. Something far beyond his usual affection. A sound of worry that was frightening Frodo.

"Here's a pretty thing." Bilbo lifted a shiny metallic shirt from his bed and showed it. "Mithril! As light as a feather and as hard as dragon scales. Let me see you put it on, go on."

The boy got excited by the shiny material and his uncle's enthusiasm and immediately started to change. He unbuttoned his shirt and with a bright smile would have continued to do so if Bilbo had not stopped breathing. The boy frowned and followed his gaze. It came to rest upon the ring which he carried attached to a necklace around his neck. A pregnant silence filled the room until finally the older hobbit raised a bony hand and pointed at it.

"My, my old ring. Well I should... very much like to hold it again, one last time."

The magical moment was broken as Frodo buttoned his shirt back up and turned away from his uncle. Bilbo, looking wild and obsessed, swiftly tried to grab the ring but missed for Frodo was too fast and had jumped out of his way. The boy looked genuinely scared at his uncle who fell back with his hands firmly on his head. He was looking distraught.

"I'm so sorry, boy." The old hobbit managed to croak. "I didn't mean to."

Frodo glanced over at the man who had cared for him all these years. "It's okay. I understand. It's a burden." The hobbit realized he had said too much and his eyes widened at this. But Bilbo didn't react surprised. In fact, Frodo wondered if Bilbo had heard his slip-up at all.

"Yes, it is, but it could never be as special as you."

The words sent a shiver down Frodo's spine and he quickly looked away. What was his uncle getting at and why did it make his stomach turn? He felt cold and wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm nothing special, uncle. I'm just another hobbit."

To his surprise he could see his uncle shake his head. Bilbo, with his head still in his hands, was fiercely denying his nephew's words. "No, no, you're not just another hobbit, my dear lad. You're not just a hobbit."

It were these words that caught Frodo by surprise and made his mouth turn dry. He clutched a hand to his chest and wondered if it was the ring that had caused this odd behaviour of his uncle.

"That's not true, uncle. I am just a mere hobbit. Like you, Like Sam-"

But he was cut off by his uncle's roar. "It is true, Frodo. You are not like any of the hobbits you know and you never will be." His voice trailed off and his hands lowered. A glimpse of regret passed the old man's worried face.

His voice then croaked as he spoke again and tearfully choked out an apology. "I'm sorry I brought this upon you my boy, I'm sorry that you must carry this burden." Frodo watched how Bilbo made it to his bed, slumped down on it and started to cry.

"I'm sorry for everything."

But Frodo didn't know what he meant. And though he thought it was all about the ring he had the feeling there was more to Bilbo's words than just that.

The second time that Bilbo referred to him as special was after the quest was over and done and Frodo had joined his very old uncle in the land of the elves. They sat huddled together while the old man was smoking his pipe. He had said to be too old for all of this smoking but still did so despite his own complains. Frodo didn't mind the smoke that touched his face whenever his uncle aimed wrongly. He smiled at the poor attempts of circles of smoke because it meant that his uncle was still here. They both knew Bilbo didn't have long of a life left.

"Without me you'd still have that pretty finger of yours." Bilbo said, the words clearly paining him and taking all of his strength.

Frodo laughed. "It's okay, uncle. There wasn't much you could have done."

"No, no," Bilbo denied firmly, and that odd feeling that something was wrong emerged inside of Frodo again. "I could have prevented it. I could have killed Gollum."

The young hobbit's smile fell. "Don't say such things. If you had killed him the ring would not have been destroyed. I would have gone mad and kept it."

The old hobbit coughed and Frodo tried to offer him some support, but he was shaken off. "I'm perfectly capable of sitting up straight. Well, Frodo, don't lament what has happened to you. Only you could have achieved this task."

The boy stared off, dreamily, into the distance. "I know, uncle, but I can't help but wonder… why me? Why not Sam? Why not any other hobbit? Aren't we all kind-hearted and uplifting? Aren't we all up to the job?"

Bilbo shook his head. "It's because you are special."

"There, you said it again!" Cried Frodo teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Just because you're my uncle doesn't mean that makes me special for the job."

He blinked and wondered if he had imagined the look on Bilbo's face. It was one of sadness and regret. As if the mere mentioning of the word 'uncle' had hurt the man. It silenced the young hobbit.

"It's not that, Frodo. You're not like the other hobbits. You're not a proper hobbit. And that's why it had to be you."

Silence.

Frodo looked down at his feet. "What are you trying to say? That I'm not a full hobbit?"

Bilbo had some trouble to keep his face straight but managed to give him a quick nod before smoking his pipe again. That was exactly what he was trying to say.

"But how?" Frodo's blue eyes widened in disbelief. "How can that be, Bilbo? We are already half-lings. We all have hobbit blood. There's nothing different to me than there is to the others."

His words made Bilbo cough, almost choking on his pipe, and slap the circle of smoke away. "Nothing different? My dear Frodo, you are most definitely different from all other hobbits."

"Then what? What is it?"

But Bilbo would not say.

AU: I found this request on a LJ Kink Meme, via Tumblr, via google, well you get the gist of it. I don't have any of those accounts to reply there but I can reply here and I will. I've tried and am trying to keep it decent though, as far as I can, till I've found a place to post more mature works. Let me know if you know a place where I can do this. Thank you.