As dawn crept over mountains and through the forest canopy, Bilbo followed Tom to the edge of the forest near Bree's borders, carrying Frodo, deep asleep in his arms.
"Here, we part," Tom said as Bilbo walked out of the forest. "Safe travels, Bilbo Baggins."
"Thank you, Tom."
Bilbo walked toward the gate. When he looked back, Tom was gone. Bilbo turned around and pounded the door.
The porter opened the high window before moving to the lower one.
"Who goes there?"
"Bilbo Baggins of the Shire," he said.
The porter opened the door and stepped aside, "It's been a long time since a Hobbit of the Shire came this far."
Bilbo chuckled walking inside. "I've been farther. Trust me…Could you point me in the direction of," he glanced at Frodo, "A relatively child friendly inn?"
"Closest inn is the Prancing Pony, Master Baggins."
Bilbo nodded and thanked him, shifting Frodo in his arms. Frodo groaned, opening his eyes for a moment before closing them again. Bilbo kissed his forehead. "We're almost there, Lad."
Frodo groaned again, trying to snuff out whatever sunlight there was by hiding his face in the crook of Bilbo's neck.
Bilbo stopped outside the Inn, staring at the swinging sign. He sighed and entered. The inn was dark and empty, save for one Man behind the counter.
"Hello," Bilbo said. The Man spied him.
"Good Morning, Sir," he said to Bilbo. "The cook just lit the fires, so if you can wait a little while a hot breakfast will be ready for you and your boy."
"Thank you. May I also have a room for the night? I have purchases to make and my nephew is very tired."
"Of course, we've three Hobbit sized rooms available on the ground floor. I'll set you and your boy up in the family room."
"Again, thank you."
He followed the inn keeper down the hall and into a room. Two beds stood with their headboards against the wall, covered in white quilts and goose feather pillows. There was a small dresser and mirror and a writing desk.
Bilbo tucked Frodo into the smaller bed and relieved himself of any other burden he carried, setting them under the window before collapsing on the bed himself. He'd have to make a list of exactly what he would need.
A pony. A cart. A couple extra blankets when the nights got colder. Food…lots of food. Cookware. Bow and arrows for hunting. A knife for preparing game if he managed to catch anything.
He repeated these things as a mantra in his head. Bilbo yawned. He wanted to stop himself from taking a nap. He was sure he'd only pass out and not wake till too much time had passed.
His arms ached. His back ached. Everything ached.
"I'm getting too bloody old for this," Bilbo muttered.
True, he had wondered why he hadn't been growing any grey hairs, but that hadn't really bothered him. Also puzzling him was the lack of new wrinkles, but that too he passed off as luck and aging well…
"Why are you here?" Bilbo asked after getting over the fright of walking into someone's room only to realize they had come to his.
Thorin held his hand out. Bilbo stared at it cautiously, arms crossed. Thorin had made it clear he despised Bilbo enough times, even though Bilbo had agreed to stay and aid them.
"Am I so untrustworthy you would shy from me?" Thorin asked. "I only mean to talk."
"And not yell as you seem to always do?"
"I will not yell if I am not provoked to it," Thorin promised. He waved his hand beckoning Bilbo to approach. "I have things I wish to say and I would like to say them, Mr. Baggins, if I may."
"And it requires little distance?"
"I do not wish to be overheard."
Bilbo approached. He did not take Thorin's hand, sitting beside him.
"First of all, from the tenseness you bare, you do not take my apology seriously, I presume."
"You tend to insult me without meaning to, so yes."
"I apologize. For both insulting you and doubting you. I never intended to belittle you."
Bilbo glanced at him. "All right, I can accept that."
"Second," Thorin continued. He took Bilbo's hand in his and kissed it.
"I'm not a maiden, Thorin!" Bilbo snapped. He was too afraid to pull his hand away.
"I know you are not. Nor does it matter. I think I may be in love with you, Bilbo Baggins." Bilbo blushed, trying not to sputter at the confession Thorin had presented. He turned his gaze away from Thorin.
This was highly improper! A male in love with a male? Interspecies relationships were usually frowned on but far more accepting than this! At least that's how it was in the Shire.
Bilbo's mind was reeling.
"I see my affections are not returned," Thorin said with a sigh. He released Bilbo's hand and stood. "I did not expect so. I wanted you to at least know." Thorin walked to the door.
Bilbo turned around. "Um, may I at least ask for how long?"
Thorin blinked. "Perhaps three weeks in, perhaps four. But I was not sure until you were about to die at the hands of the Trolls."
"Bilbo?" He felt hands patting his face. He woke up and turned to face Frodo, smiling.
"Finally awake, you log?"
"I'm not a log!"
"You most certainly are. You sleep as deeply as a log."
Frodo decided to ignore the tease. "Bilbo, I'm hungry."
"All right," Bilbo grunted, getting off the bed. "Let's eat then. And after we will get the things we need for our journey."
"Okay."
Bilbo took Frodo's hand and led him to the dining hall. He ordered two platters of eggs and bacon, tea, and juice. They waited for their meals at a booth table far from the Men.
Frodo looked about curiously enough, until someone would meet his stares. Bilbo didn't have it in his heart to lecture the boy on his manners. He'd be staring at different places and different people for a long time.
Several women, barmaids and fancy ladies of Dwarfish, Hobbitish, and Manish lineages alike, would approach to coo over Frodo. His shyness passed then and he'd give them his best smiles and tell stories that perhaps made no sense.
Bilbo had to remind him not to talk with his mouth full, but beyond that, Frodo was very well behaved. They bade goodbye to Frodo's new friends.
Frodo tried to jump in puddles that had been caused by only Eru knows what. Twice. Both times, Bilbo had caught him around the middle and after the second, he dared not trust Frodo walking through town, so he tucked him under his arm when the fauntling continued to squirm like an angry cat.
Bilbo approached the stables.
"Hello?" he called.
"Put me down!" Frodo shouted. "Put me down!"
"When you start behaving, I might," Bilbo snapped. Usually Frodo's rambunctious nature was acceptable. However, on a journey which may be rather dangerous if they proved rather unlucky…
No. Bilbo decided he would not stand for Frodo running about and jumping in piss without thinking. They'd be smelly enough eventually and he'd rather not be smelly until there was no helping it.
"Sorry to interrupt," a stable girl said, "You called Master Hobbit?"
"I did," Bilbo said.
Frodo stared at her, his shyness overcoming him. Bilbo silently thanked the girl for stepping in before he had to take more drastic measures to make Frodo behave himself. He never liked to. (To be fair, he knew no parent ever liked disciplining their little ones unless they were horrible.)
"My boy and I are heading off to the East and we need a decent pony and cart." He set Frodo down to count his coins.
"How far is east for you?" she asked, taking the payment.
"I cannot say," he admitted. Bilbo didn't think it'd be good to tell anyone, known or unknown, where he was going unless he was certain he could trust them. "Is that enough?"
"Yes. It is."
"Thank you. I will be back tomorrow for them."
"Yes, Sir."
Bilbo took Frodo's hand in his. "Come on, Frodo, we've much to get before the day ends."
"But I thought you did know where we were going?"
"I do," Bilbo whispered, kneeling and wiping a smudge of dirt off Frodo's cheek. "But no one else needs to know, okay?"
"Why?"
"It's secret." Bilbo stood. "We don't want people to know where we're going. Understand? We do not tell anyone where we are going. Not even the people who are nice to us unless I say its okay."
Frodo still seemed confused, but he nodded. He guessed it was one of those adult things that made no sense at all.
