"Chapter 10"
A/N: Finally, we'll get a look into what Frodo's thinking (he still won't be speaking for a while yet), and just remember that he isn't thinking rationally when he thinks about his parents' reactions if they were still alive!
To Saren-Dipety: You asked what age Frodo is in this story. He's about twenty-two in hobbit years, but I'm also one of the LotR fans who believe that hobbits mature two-thirds slower than Men, so he's the equivalent of fourteen in Man years. Hope that helps!
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Frodo's aloofness to Bilbo and anything his uncle did persisted through most of their journey to Erebor, with the young hobbit choosing instead to gravitate towards Bofur and, surprisingly, Thorin, who seemed as taken aback by such a development as the others. Of all of the Dwarves he seemed most wary of Dwalin, whose appearance and rather gruff demeanor clearly intimidated him; but as the weeks continued and they traveled closer and closer to Erebor he slowly warmed up to the large, burly Dwarf and soon was glued as close to his side as all the others.
His nephew's sudden unwillingness to even look at Bilbo clearly made the old hobbit miserable and confused. He had been told his mistake but now Frodo was not allowing him chance to make things right, and the thought of perhaps losing his lad forever to such a careless blunder terrified him.
They were four days ride from the Lonely Mountain when Thorin finally had enough of the tension between uncle and nephew, and of Bilbo's silent moping. Carrying Frodo in his arms, he looked over at Bofur and ordered them to stop. Without hesitation he handed the lad over to the other Dwarf, dismounted, and then marched right back to where Bilbo was riding in the rear.
"Come with me," he ordered gruffly, and his expression brooked no argument.
Frodo's gaze followed them as his uncle and the Dwarf disappeared into a small grove of trees, far enough away that they would not be overheard but close enough if trouble arose. Although he was silent—a silence he was terrified of breaking, even with the ruffians dead—he was not suddenly stupid. He observed even if he didn't talk, and he knew his uncle hadn't meant to hurt him by speaking the way he had. He knew that Bilbo only cared for him—loved him, even—but he didn't want to be reminded of his mother. The memory of her smile and lovely voice only brought him shame, thinking of how utterly appalled she would be in him if she had known he had given in to the Men who had held him captive, allowing them to tame his tongue and beat the fight out of him. How ashamed would Uncle Bilbo be if he were to find out?
The night his uncle had mentioned Primula Baggins, Frodo had wanted to give in then, and just allow himself to let go of life and join his dead parents so that he wouldn't have to face the shame of living the way he was. He hurt physically, mentally, and emotionally, and he had no idea how to continue on. The Dwarves had helped him a little, telling him tales and making him smile. It seemed like they were making it a contest to see who could make him smile the most, and he was able to show them a couple by the end of their journey.
He just hoped that Thorin didn't yell at his uncle. Shouldn't the Dwarf know that Uncle really hadn't meant anything by what he'd said?
"Your uncle will be perfectly fine, lad," he heard the Dwarf holding him, Bofur, say suddenly. He looked up to see Bofur grinning down at him. "He's not going to allow His Royal Grumpiness to intimidate him. Bilbo's faced down a dragon after all!"
Frodo wasn't sure about the story of his uncle facing down a dragon, nor did he really care at the moment. The dragon, whether true or not, was supposedly dead and unable to burn his uncle to a crisp. His Royal Grumpiness, however, was very much alive, and if he didn't murder his uncle with his bare hands if he got irritated enough, then his smoldering eyes would surely burn Uncle Bilbo as much as dragon's fire could, and then where would he be? Could a king be tried for murder?
He sent such a sarcastic look up at Bofur that the Dwarf chuckled. "You don't need to talk to make your point, do you?"
Not really, Frodo thought to himself, then shook himself when he realized he was still in sarcastic mode. That wouldn't help with Uncle Bilbo, and His Royal Grumpiness wouldn't lessen his scowling either. Frodo had rarely seen anyone with such a proclivity to look, well, grumpy, except maybe old Odo Proudfoot, who could always be seen sweeping his walkway and scowling at anyone who walked past. Frodo secretly thought that Proudfoot was just doing that for show; but the Dwarf-king seemed to know no other expression.
At least Bofur could smile, and even though Nori was often quiet he still had a talent for sparring with words. Dwalin had told him that Nori was nothing but a thief where they lived, a true-blooded criminal, but he hadn't seen anything like that yet.
Dwalin himself really didn't have much room to talk, in the young hobbit's opinion, but he wouldn't say that aloud.
'… worried about Thorin?"
Bofur's voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he had to think back about what the Dwarf had been talking about before to know what he was talking about now. Ah, yes, mentioning the dragon and his worrying about his uncle's soon-to-be-legendary death by spontaneous combustion.
And Bofur was still talking, as cheerful as always. "If Thorin's the one you're worried about, then I can understand it a little more. Bilbo could give our king a run for his money if he was in temper, and could Bilbo Baggins ever throw a temper!" He chuckled again, but suddenly became somber. "Aye, Thorin's more serious than most, but he's a good heart, and he has good reason to be so. His has been a hard road, and it's been harder now with having to rule Erebor with no heir of his own blood, with his nephew Kili hurt by the Battle of the Five Armies." The Dwarf looked down at him. 'You'll be meeting Kili at Erebor—he's the one who convinced Thorin to come help your uncle find you, too."
This unexpected piece of information caught Frodo's full attention. So Thorin had a nephew he cared for just like Uncle Bilbo cared for him? And that nephew had been injured like he had been? Was that why Thorin was so grim? The thought of that made him worry—what if Bilbo became like that because of him? He didn't want his normally cheerful uncle to become so serious that he could never smile.
So he decided that even if he still wasn't the happiest with Uncle Bilbo, he'd make him smile all the same.
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It was a good thirty minutes before Bilbo and Thorin came back, with Thorin having finally vented some of his frustration. Bilbo walked with a hung head, thinking he was only receiving his due. To see the normally spirited hobbit so meek now was disconcerting, and Bofur clearly frowned his dislike of this new development. He didn't want two hobbits moping now!
But before any of the Dwarves could even so much as move, Frodo broke the tension. Still sitting in front of Bofur in the saddle, he motioned to let down, and Bofur did so. They all watched in silence that became confused as the young hobbit limped painfully over to his uncle and before Bilbo could do so much as open his mouth to speak, his nephew had buried his face in the front of his vest and his hands burying themselves in the cloth in a tight hold.
And Bilbo's face lit up with the largest, brightest smile he had given in two months, a sight that the Dwarves had not seen before. They watched for a moment, but then respectfully turned away to give uncle and nephew time alone as Bilbo knelt and drew Frodo close in an almost choking, but no less loving, embrace.
Thorin walked slowly up to Bofur, his expression wry. "What did you say to our littlest companion while I was talking his uncle's ears off?"
Bofur merely shrugged, but his smile was secret, and smug, enough.