The next few days passed in relative peace. Thorin was a bit more melancholy than he had been since his resurrection and Bilbo a bit more sedate but things continued much the same way they had since the dwarves had arrived in Hobbiton: Thorin went to work every day—and had begun working on the sword and teaching Tom and Bilbo how it was done—while the remainder of the dwarves spent the day harassing poor Frodo—with Gandalf "supervising", of course.
It didn't take long for Paladin to approach Bilbo one evening as they were returning home from the forge and press a note into his hand. It went unnoticed by the other hobbits as they seemed to have taken to the idea that ignoring the strangeness of the dwarves and not giving them undo attention was the easiest way to get things to go back to normal. Bilbo simply slipped it into his pocket and waited until later that night to read it. There were only three words: "they said yes." He sat it down beside him with a sigh, not knowing how to tell Thorin. He jumped as he heard the very same dwarf speak from the doorway.
"Well," Thorin asked, leaning against the door with an expression of forced indifference on his face. "What did it say?"
"They said yes," Bilbo said. "They will give us the child." Thorin nodded slowly. Though his eyes were still sad he had made his peace with this. After all, what they did with their kin was their own business, not his. They wouldn't even have been his to command had he retained his title.
"Then we will give it the love they should have," he said simply. "Come. Let's tell the others the good news." Bilbo was a bit shocked at his calm acceptance in light of his anger and sorrow earlier but he did have to admit that he was glad this was not something that would torture Thorin. After all, he'd only done it to make the dwarf happy. He was equally as shocked at the lack of rage that the other dwarves showed to the pronouncement. He'd expected broken crockery at the least and serious structural damage at the most but not the calm acceptance they displayed.
"You mean you're not shocked?" he asked.
"Wish I could say I was," Bofur replied with a shrug.
"Aye, lad," Dwalin agreed. "Not all races are as kind to their own as we dwarves."
"Indeed," Balin added. "It's not an uncommon practice in the villages of men. I hear that it's different in the great cities but . . . well, I'd not have thought that hobbits shared it but it's not unheard of, even if it is a shame."
"But . . . Thorin—" Bilbo protested looking at his lover in confusion.
"Has had little dealings with the day-to-day activities of men," Balin said gently. "Yes, he treated with their leaders and worked for their men but he never socialized with them or spent more time than necessary in their towns."
"But you—"
"I studied their customs to better know how to advise him in negotiations," Balin said. "That's how I first learned of it. And being so close to the city of Dale . . . you see things."
"That's where I learned of it," Bofur said. " While it can't compare to dwarven ale in strength, the men of Dale do make many different flavors that I do occasionally nip into town to sample."
"And the pretty tavern maids have nothing to do with it," Dwalin scoffed.
"They might," Bofur replied cheekily. "And occasionally one of the prettier ones goes missing for a bit only to come back a bit heavier. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happens."
"Clearly," Dwalin muttered before dodging the roll Bofur lobbed at his head for the slight. After that, the dwarves descended into good natured insults and Bilbo knew there'd be no reasoning with them for quite some time.
"Congratulations, Uncle, Thorin," Frodo said offering them a smile as he tried to ignore the dwarves. "I know from experience that this child will be well looked after. And I'd like to do what I can to help. If you need anything just ask."
"Thank you," Thorin said. If he'd been honest with himself, he had been more worried about how Frodo would take it than he had been about his kin. He could still remember Fíli's ire when he'd learned that his mother was having another child.
"You're replacing me?" he'd demanded, his little blue eyes wide. "I don't want replaced!"
It had taken the combined efforts of Dís, Víli an himself to convince the lad that a new child did not mean that the first was being replaced.
"Your mother didn't replace me," Thorin had reminded him.
"Yeah, but she's a girl," Fíli had countered. "What if she'd been a boy?"
"This babe might be a girl," Thorin had replied, not wanting to feed the lad's fears by telling him that there had been a boy between him and Dís. He wasn't sure that Fíli would understand that concept of death.
"That'd be worse," Fíli had muttered. "I don't want a girl." Dís had laughed and ruffled her son's hair before lifting him into her lap.
"I'm afraid we have to leave that up to the Maker to decide. It's not as if we can vote, sweetheart," she said, leaning her cheek against his head.
"I still don't want a girl," Fíli muttered, burrowing into his mother's neck sullenly.
Fíli eventually got over not wanting a sibling and the two became inseparable. But, as Thorin thought more about it, he realized that his fear was unfounded. Frodo was much older than Fíli had been, old enough to know better than to fear he was being replaced. In fact, he was about to be an adult, if Thorin remember rightly. He was pulled out of his musings by Bilbo's elbow in his ribs.
"Hm?" he asked, having not heard any of the conversation since he had thanked Frodo.
"I said that we'll see how he feels when we're asking him to watch the babe while we're seeing to official business," Bilbo repeated, a merry twinkle in his eyes. "Especially if that happens to take us out of town overnight."
"Oh," Frodo scoffed waving off his uncle's statement. "It's just a baby. How bad can it be?" At that Thorin raised an eyebrow at Bilbo.
"Only child," Bilbo said sagely. At that Thorin nodded. He'd wondered why Bilbo had only adopted Frodo and not his siblings and now he had the answer. At that, the other dwarves began to laugh and Gandalf had a decided smirk to his face.
"You're in for a lesson, laddie," Dwalin said patting Frodo on the shoulder with enough force that the young hobbit rocked forward a bit. "That is if hobbit-spawn are anything like dwarflings."
"The babe of one race is much like that of any other, Master Dwalin," Gandalf said nodding and taking a puff of his pipe. "Hobbit, dwarf, man, elf . . . for a time they are all the same helpless things."
"Aye," Bofur agreed, his tone fond as he thought of his niece and nephews despite the harshness of his words. "Helpless little screamers, the lot of them."
"What?" Frodo asked having never spent any time around truly tiny children.
"Yes," Balin agreed, a fond smile on his face as well. "Little screaming bundles of flesh. Always hungry or wet. They always need something, Mahal bless their little souls."
"Or dirty," Thorin added with a laugh. "Don't forget that. For a time it seems all they do is sleep, eat, void and scream."
"And you want one of them?" Frodo asked incredulously. So far the young hobbit hadn't heard anything that made it sound like a child was a desirable thing.
"Aye lad," Thorin agreed, his blue eyes softer than Frodo had ever seen them. "That's only a phase. Once they're past that . . . there is no greater gift from the Maker than a child. Someday you'll understand." Frodo scoffed at the idea. If that was all a baby had to offer he could never see himself desiring one and couldn't see how anyone in their right mind would, if they knew, that was. Perhaps that was how children came into being. No one told new couples what they were like. It had to be the biggest trick in the universe. There was no other explanation for it.
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The rest of the week leading up to the party went comparatively smoothly. Plans, both for the party and for travel, were finalized and everything was ready. There was one brief incident involving a handful of curious hobbit children attempting to peek under the cover of Gandalf's wagon, but a well timed firework going off—"Completely harmless, Bilbo, I assure you. That one was heatless"—scared them off from attempting it again.
"Can't have them sneaking trade secrets, can I?" Gandalf had asked in justification offering Frodo a wink. No one had believed him. They all knew that the old wizard just liked to keep his surprises just that.
Thorin completed his sword and secured an unknown amount of time off from Tom to visit his sister. Even if Thorin though he was being sly, it didn't escape Tom's notice that he did not promise to come back. He knew that travel could be dangerous, but in this part of the world he'd heard that it was mostly safe. If an armed dwarf was afraid he might not return . . . well it merely solidified Tom's conviction that he would never leave the Shire.
While Thorin tried to arrange that, Bilbo was busy attempting to make arrangements for the babe. Even if they did not need much, there were still things he needed to acquire and he needed to do it before they could leave. There were clothes to commission, a crib to order, a goat to procure as neither Thorin nor himself was capable of lactation. More than once, as he was forced to endure yet more questioning stares from his neighbors, Bilbo wondered if this was worth it. Then the first package came. The smile on Thorin's face when he had unwrapped the bundle of tiny clothing was more than worth a few more rumblings about his sanity.
"Bilbo," the dwarf said, putting his finger into the arm hole of one tiny gown before setting it down and looking at another. "I think they've made a mistake. These . . . they have sent you clothing for a doll, not a child."
"There's no mistake," Bilbo said taking the garments from his lover and folding them into drawers to await the babe. "These may even be a bit big."
"Big?!" Thorin asked, looking once more at the tiny things Bilbo was folding. He couldn't imagine something so small. He was certain that his nephews hadn't been that small.
"Umhm." Bilbo said absently. "The tailor looked at me oddly when I asked for newborn clothing but this is the standard pattern. I can order something in a slightly larger size if you'd like. It's not like it won't grow into them."
"That might be good," Thorin muttered picking up one of the garments in blue. Not for the first time, he wondered if this was such a good idea after all. Even though he knew that it would be smaller than a dwarf, he hadn't anticipated such a tiny creature. Even so, he hid his doubts and helped Bilbo fold. After all, there was no need to worry Bilbo over something that he would get over with time.
Sadly for Frodo, the other dwarves had no such qualms about worrying the younger hobbit. As the day of the party grew nearer, they grew yet more determined to traumatize Bilbo's heir into fainting enough to fill their quota and win the bet. Sadly for them, hobbits truly are highly adaptable things and it was growing more difficult by the day to shock Frodo and even when they did, though he might pale he rarely fainted. It was quite a disappointment. Especially as Thorin and Bilbo could still manage it, making it seem all the more likely that Gandalf would win yet again.
That may have been part of what lead to their reaction to what happened on September 20th, two days before the party. Bilbo's temper had been a bit short lately. As the party, and the trip to Ered Luin, grew closer, Thorin had become a bit . . . overbearing in his attentions to the hobbit. Though the dwarves understood that Thorin was making the most of what might be their last days—female dwarves were notoriously vicious where their children were concerned, even to kin, and Thorin had led her sons to their deaths. None of the other dwarves envied him his position—Bilbo, well, the hobbit had never appreciated being coddled.
He was handling it well, but everyone, except Thorin, could see that Bilbo had about reached the end of his patience. The tipping point came one day at elevensies when Bilbo asked Bofur to toss him a roll. The dwarf obliged and gently lobbed one at the hobbit, only to have Thorin's hand shoot out and catch it before depositing it on Bilbo's plate.
Bilbo looked from his lover to the roll and back again a couple of times before his eyes hardened. Thorin had gone back to eating and failed to notice, but the rest did. Balin and Dwalin exchanged looks as they both wondered if they should make a run for the door or attempt to eat what they could before they would have to leave for the rest of the day. In the end, they decided on eating, pointedly ignoring Frodo's look of horror as they began shoveling food into their mouths as if they were starving. They only froze again when Bilbo spoke.
"Thorin, can I see you in our room for a moment?" Bilbo asked, his tone on of forced sweetness. The rest of the dwarves cringed at it. They had heard that tone before, generally just before the hobbit had taken one of them to task over something. They had to admit that they pitied Thorin in that moment. It was clear to them that the hobbit was livid.
"Of course," Thorin said getting rapidly to his feet and offering a hand to Bilbo, which the hobbit pointedly ignored as he climbed to his own feet. As Bilbo and Thorin made their way down the hall, Bofur stood suddenly, rubbing his neck.
"Well, lads, what's say we go for a bit of a walk and harass the locals?" he asked.
"Let's," Balin agreed climbing to his feet as well and heading for the door, having no desire to hear Bilbo yell at Thorin and knowing just how powerful the hobbit's lungs where when he was provoked.
"I'm up for a walk," Dwalin said grabbing a few cookies off the table before joining his brother.
"I think I will come as well," Gandalf said grabbing his hat off the wall. "Might even go as far as the Southfarthing and see about acquiring some Longbottom Leaf from the growers themselves."
"There's no need to go that far, Gandalf," Frodo said in confusion from his spot at the table. He didn't understand why they were all acting so peculiar. "You can get that right here in Hobbiton. In fact, I have some if you're interested. You don't have to purchase your own."
"What is this 'Longbottom Leaf'?" Bofur asked as he walked towards the door with Gandalf, ignoring Frodo's statement about it being unnecessary to leave.
"Only the finest weed in the Southfarthing and—don't tell Bilbo I said this, his ego is already too large for a hobbit anyway—perhaps the finest in Middle Earth," Gandalf said with a smile.
"Then to the Southfarthing it is!" Bofur said, thrilled at the prospect of smoking the finest weed in Middle Earth and wanting to compare it to what he generally smoked.
"You will not regret this, Bofur," Gandalf promised. "It will be well worth the trip."
"But that's so far!" Frodo exclaimed.
"How far, lad?" Dwlain asked, wondering if it would keep them gone long enough that Bilbo and Thorin would be done both fighting and making up by the time they got back.
"It'll take you all day to get there and back again, maybe more depending on how fast you ride," Frodo said. The dwarves shared a speculative glance.
"What do you think, lads?" Balin eventually said. "Will that be enough or do we need to make for Bree instead?"
"It'll do," Dwalin replied just as Bilbo's voice came wafting out to them from down the hall. Frodo couldn't understand what he was saying. The words were harsh, guttural. It wasn't a language he'd ever heard before, but judging by the way the others paled, it must have been something vile.
"Let's go," Balin said. "By the sounds of it, Bilbo's in a right foul mood. I don't want to be here for this. You really should come along, Frodo. You don't want to witness this."
"No lad," Dwalin agreed. "Come with us. Trust me on this."
"I'm fine, really I just—"
"WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN TO ANYTHING I SAY YOU STUBBORN DWARF!?" Bilbo's irate voice cut him off and Frodo's eyes went wide at hearing his uncle yell.
"I LISTEN WHEN WHAT YOU ARE SAYING MAKES ANY SENSE, YOU . . . YOU IMPERTINENT HOBBIT!" Thorin's roar returned and left Frodo more than shocked. He'd never heard the dwarf yell before and felt that it was quite intimidating. Rather than be intimidated, he heard Bilbo laugh. That decided it for him.
"Alright," Frodo replied shaking his head remembering all the jokes about what happened after one of these fights and scrambling to his feet before grabbing his walking stick from the hall and running out the door.
"What happened to being '"fine"? Eh, lad?" Bofur asked nudging the young hobbit gently.
"Someone has to keep an eye on you lot," Frodo replied with a smirk. "Can't have you rampaging through the Shire without supervision, can we?"
They laughed but said nothing as they set off for the Southfarthing, not particularly caring about whether or not Gandalf was telling the truth about the quality of the weed. Anything that would get them gone was enough. As they walked, Dwalin had to fight off images of what might be going on behind them. As he shivered, he was infinitely glad that Frodo had seen reason and come with them. He had grown rather fond of the lad and there was no way that Frodo deserved to see that.
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Here we are all, a new chapter :) I hope you enjoyed it!
Stickdonkeys