Chapter 3: Nightmare

Frodo sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily from the dream he'd just had. He was contemplating asking his uncle Bilbo if he could spend the rest of the night in his room but he had promised him he would try to spend a whole night in his own room and a Baggins did not break their promises.

Deciding maybe a drink would help Frodo got out of bed and padded silently through Bag End, he could make out the various lumps and bumps that represented a snoozing dwarf, two on the floor and one in uncle Bilbo's chair.

He had just gotten himself a cup of water when a loud bang from behind him made him drop it on the floor. Turning to run he went smack into a solid body. Frodo instinctively started hitting out when a pair of arms trapped him.

"Easy lad, easy," An accented voice soothed, "It's just ol' Bofur."

Frodo relented in his assault, allowing the dwarf to pick him up and immediately latching onto his neck.

"Now, what's all this eh?"

"Had a nightmare." Frodo mumbled.

"Ah," Frodo felt the dwarf nod, "terrible business those. Want to tell me about it?"

Frodo shook his head, truth be told he couldn't even remember. He just knew he had woken up feeling terrified.

"In that case what say we get ya all tucked up back in bed?"

The fauntling's grip on his neck tightening told Bofur that that didn't sound like a good idea but he didn't push it as he made his way to Frodo's room and set him down on the bed.

Rather than lying down Frodo continued to sit up. His eyes having adjusted to the lack of light Bofur could see the lad was staring down at his hands as if he had something he wanted to say but couldn't get the words out. Given his experience with his own nieces and nephews Bofur had a feeling he knew what it was.

"Want me to stay until ya fall asleep again?"

Frodo gave an eager nod and Bofur settled on the floor with his back against the bed, feeling a small hand on his hatless head, as if its owner was reassuring himself he was still there.

Bofur woke some time later with his back screaming at him and a warm weight in his lap. Looking down he saw that at some point Frodo had decided Bofur looked more comfortable than his bed and was curled up with his head on Bofur's chest, a small hand fisted in his shirt. Heaving himself up as gently as he could so as not to jostle the still sleeping boy he moved to place Frodo back in bed only to find that even in sleep he was unwilling to relinquish his grip.

Well, may as well make meself comfortable Bofur thought, easing back on the bed himself and stretching out as best as he could (which given the size of the bed wasn't easy).

He was woken again by tiny hands shaking him and a voice right by his ear shouting something about breakfast. Bofur sat up, his back once again making its feelings known about where he had spent the night. He cared about the lad but Mahal did he hope this wasn't going to become a regular thing.