Disclaimer: I do not own ANY of the following material. The places, events, characters, names, titles, etc. belong to their proper owners, and they get full credit. Events are fictional. Names that resemble any other individual, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Any and ALL content pertaining to the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, and any other holders of the rights. All rights reserved to them and them only. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED!
Bilbo Baggins had been spending an evening at home, sipping tea and working on a story he had been writing. He had went on quite the adventure, and so he wanted to write all about it, in the hopes that it would be passed down someday. Bilbo didn't know who he would pass it down to, though. Perhaps his cousin Drogo? Yes…Drogo.
Drogo had a son of his own that Bilbo had met only once before. What was his name again? Frodo, Bilbo thought it was. Either way, he was a cute child. He looked quite like Drogo when Drogo was a baby.
There came a sudden knock on the door. Bilbo placed his cup of tea on the table and walked over to see who was at Bag End at this time of the morning. He opened the door and saw Drogo standing there, holding baby Frodo in his arms.
"Bilbo," Drogo said, smiling. "How have you been, dear cousin?"
"I have been well," Bilbo said. "How about you and that wife of yours? Oh, and your son, of course."
"Well," Drogo said, and he looked a little embarrassed, "I have a favor to ask of you, Bilbo."
"What would that be?" Bilbo asked.
"Could you-I mean, if you don't mind-," Drogo began hastily, feeling extremely awkward and embarrassed by what he was about to ask. "Would you mind watching little Frodo here? Primula hasn't been feeling well, and Frodo won't let her get any rest. I do not know where else to go. No one else is available right now."
Bilbo looked at the child, who had been surprisingly quiet this entire time. Frodo was looking over at Bilbo in silence, a curious wonder painted in those big blue eyes of his. Frodo was resting his tiny head on Drogo's shoulder, and he looked as if he were about to fall asleep. Bilbo smiled at Frodo; what a sweet child he seemed to be!
"Of course," Bilbo said softly. "I would be delighted to watch him. How long will you need."
"Thank you!" Drogo exclaimed, handing Frodo over to Bilbo and giving Bilbo a hug. Frodo whined in protest, but when Drogo handed him his teddy bear, he cooed and quieted again. "It will only be for a few hours, until Primula can get the proper rest she needs."
"Take your time," Bilbo said. "We will be just fine."
Drogo handed Bilbo Frodo's favorite blanket and some milk. After giving Frodo a kiss on the forehead, Drogo departed Bag End. Frodo watched his father leave, squirming to get free and beginning to scream and cry when Drogo was out of sight.
"There, there," Bilbo soothed the upset child. "Your daddy will return to you. Why don't we go inside and I will find something for us to do."
Frodo continued to cry, but he was also beginning to quiet down. He was looking at Bilbo again, his face and eyes full of that same curiosity from before. Bilbo smiled at Frodo and took the baby inside. Bilbo didn't think to ask how old Frodo was now, but Bilbo guessed that he had to be at least two now. He was about a year old-or close to a year old-when Bilbo had first met him.
"What do you say," Bilbo said, "I tell you a few stories?"
Frodo just continued staring at the older hobbit, and Bilbo laughed. He sat Frodo on the floor, and Frodo looked up at Bilbo and cackled. He then covered his eyes with hands, and screamed happily. Bilbo smiled.
"You're quite bashful, aren't you?" Bilbo asked.
Frodo uncovered his eyes and babbled up at Bilbo. He was quite a cheery baby, and he got up and began to walk toward the kitchen. Bilbo followed the child, who was attempting to climb onto a chair by himself. Bilbo ran and caught Frodo before he fell. The child didn't cry; instead, he just looked up at Bilbo.
"Are you alright?" Bilbo asked. "I'm glad I got here before you could fall and get hurt!"
"Fwodo aw!" Frodo said. "Fwodo no hut!"
"No, you're not, thankfully," Bilbo said.
"Bay-uh?" Frodo said, looking around him. "Way-uh bay-uh?"
"It's out here," Bilbo said, picking the child up and carrying him to the sitting room.
He handed Frodo his bear, and Frodo screeched happily, giving it a tight hug.
"That bear is almost as big as you," Bilbo noted.
"Fwodo bay-uh!" Frodo said, creasing his eyebrows in anger at Bilbo. "Fwodo bay-uh, no or bay-uh!"
Bilbo couldn't help but laugh at the child. "That's right. That's Frodo's bear."
Frodo just gazed up at Bilbo, cooing in wonder. Bilbo picked the child up and placed him in his lap and said, "How would you like to hear some of my stories?"
"Bed?" Frodo asked, giving Bilbo a puzzled look.
"No, no," Bilbo said. "These aren't stories for bedtime, dear child. These are stories to keep you entertained."
Frodo said nothing more, and so Bilbo began to tell Frodo some tales of his journey. The baby's eyes never left Bilbo's face, and he looked both entertained, curious, and very happy. Bilbo knew that Frodo wouldn't understand just yet, but somehow…somehow he already did. Frodo would coo, scream, and babble merrily as Bilbo told his story.
When story time was over, Frodo told Bilbo that he was hungry. Bilbo walked into the kitchen and began to heat some of the milk that Drogo had left. As the milk was heating, Frodo was getting into everything he could. Bilbo had made the mistake of leaving his flour bag on the floor of the kitchen, and Frodo found it in no time at all. The baby was white from head to toe, and he was screaming "Oopie! Fwodo may messy!" at the top of his lungs as he ran out of the kitchen cackling happily, leaving a white, powdery trail behind him. Bilbo laughed so hard his stomach and sides began to ache; he couldn't help himself.
"Fwodo messy!" Frodo cried merrily when he re-entered the kitchen.
"Yes," Bilbo said, wiping tears from his eyes as his giggled quieted. "We must get you cleaned up."
Bilbo cleaned up the flour-covered baby in no time at all, and by that time, Frodo's milk was ready. Bilbo made sure it wasn't too hot, and he found it was just the perfect temperature. He put some of it in the cup that Drogo had left, and handed it to Frodo. They walked back out to the family room, where Frodo sat on the floor, drinking his milk. As he drank, his eyes were darting all around the room. No doubt trying to figure out what to get into next, Bilbo thought with a smile.
"Fwodo full!" Frodo said after a little while, handing the cup back to Bilbo.
Frodo ran around the house for a little while, until he tired himself out. He laid on the floor and fell asleep, and Bilbo picked him up gently. He took him into his room and laid him in the bed, covering him up with Frodo's favorite blanket and laying the bear next to him.
When Drogo arrived later that evening to pick him up, Frodo began to cry.
"Fwodo wan Bee-Bee!" Frodo wailed. "Bee-Bee!"
"I think he wants to stay here with you," Drogo said, smiling at Bilbo.
"If you and Primula don't mind," Bilbo said, "I'd love to have him stay tonight."
Drogo looked at his son, then said, "Alright. Frodo, Daddy is going back home tonight. You be a good lad for your Uncle Bilbo, alright?"
"Bee-Bee!" Frodo cried happily.
Uncle Bilbo. The words played through Bilbo's mind over and over. He would be lying if he said he didn't like the way it sounded. He hoped that Frodo would remember that as he grew older, and would think of him as an uncle instead of a cousin.
That would make Bilbo very happy indeed.
