Frodo had barely begun his explanation of Lobelia's presence in Bag End and already Thorin was feeling more wretched about what he had done than before. By the time it was done, he was wishing for the first time since the ordeal with the Ring that the Valar had not decided to bring him back to suffer more for his sins. Not only had the she-hobbit been invited, she had been there for the honor of her family and now his. And he had assaulted her for looking out for the good of her kin. He was abhorrent; a feeling that only grew the more he heard, even if his mate wasn't quite so convinced of her good intentions.

"So, let me get this straight," Bilbo said slowly, attempting to understand just how his least-favorite cousin had been invited into his home. "You invited a pregnant hobbit lass to live here until the time of the birth of her babe."

"I did," Frodo agreed, steadily, unfazed by the way Bilbo was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"And then when it was discovered that you were living with said pregnant hobbit lass, you allowed Lobelia, of all people, to move in as a chaperon?" Bilbo continued, his eyebrow raising in incredulity.

"I did," Frodo replied again, wondering just how many times he was going to have to admit to things he'd already admitted to doing.

"But, Frodo, my lad, didn't you tell her that there was no need for a chaperon as the deed had already been done, so to speak?" Bilbo sighed. "I mean, it's not as if any dalliance the two of you might have committed would cause any more harm. The cake is already baking, as they say."

"Lobelia said there would be talk," Frodo said with a shrug. "I let her move in for Peony's sake. I wanted to spare her the gossip."

"There's already talk, my lad," Bilbo scoffed. "The lass is with child. In Hobbiton. Of course there's talk. And you know that to find this place she had to have asked after us. The Baggins name is already connected to that lass and her child in the gossip circles, you mark my words, lad. And well . . . with my . . . preferences known, I'm afraid that you are the only Baggins with a possible claim to the babe.

"In fact, I would bet my best walking stick that's how Lobelia learned that she was here," Bilbo laughed. "It's not like she would have been dropping by for tea, after all. She came up here intending to coerce you into inviting her to stay."

"Peony is her cousin," Frodo said, uncertainty creeping into his voice for the first time.

"So are we," Bilbo replied. "By the Valar, half the Shire is related to that she-orc. Regardless, there will still be talk. Especially as Thorin and I are adopting her child. Of course we would want to keep your mistakes in the family, wouldn't we?"

"But I never-"

"Won't matter," Bilbo sighed. "I never excavated the hill and stuffed it full of gold either and that rumor still persists." At Frodo's dejected expression, Bilbo sighed again, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not saying you did wrong, lad," Bilbo offered. "There was nothing you could have done to prevent it once she started asking about Bagginses. In fact, had you sent her away it would have looked worse. You made the right call on the lass. Lobelia however . . . You did at least remember to hide the good silver, didn't you?"

Before Frodo could answer, the front door opened and female voice called his name from the hall. Bilbo didn't miss the way both Thorin and Frodo flinched at the tone and wondered what they knew that he didn't. Moments later, a heavily pregnant hobbit was standing in the entry to the den, a brimming market bag on one hip and her hand on the other.

"Frodo Baggins, would you care to explain to me just why my cousin is sitting in the garden, smoking a pipe with a dwarf and shaking like a leaf?" Peony asked, her voice soft and honey sweet as she glared at him. Understanding abruptly dawned on Bilbo as he vaguely recalled his mother speaking to his father that way; and the blazing rows that often followed.

"I . . . Um . . . I can explain that, Peony," Frodo started, attempting to stall long enough to come up with a plausible excuse that was close enough to the truth that if Lobelia ever talked about it it would work but far enough from the truth as to not make Thorin seem volatile and worry her unnecessary. As he floundered, she simply raised one delicate sandy brow and waited. "Well, you see," he started again. "What you've got to understand is . . ."

"It was my fault," Thorin said softly, meeting her pale green eyes as she turned to him. "Your cousin has, in the past, encroached on the . . . No. There is no excuse for what I did. When I arrived and she was here I am afraid I lost my temper and threatened her. My sister is attempting to calm her and right my wrongs. If I though my presence would do anything other than make it worse I would join her and offer my sincerest apologies however. . . I believe the best thing I can do for your cousin is to leave her alone."

"Your sister?" Peony asked, briefly derailed by the fact that the bearded dwarf with the pipe who greeted her with such a deep voice was female. In fact, she had believed her to be Thorin.

"Dís," Thorin supplied. "My younger . . . By birth, at any rate, sister. She has always been more diplomatic than I have. I am afraid this is not the first time she has needed to smooth over my erroneous conclusions. Though the result has never been so base an error." Peony mulled this new information over for a moment before nodding.

"So I take it you're Thorin, then?" She said, her eyes boring into him, sizing him up in a way that he hadn't expected.

"I am," he agreed before sweeping her a bow. "Thorin Oakenshield, at your service."

"Of course she get's an 'at your service'," Bilbo grumbled to Frodo. "When he and his lot invaded my house he didn't even introduce himself. Just walked into my home, bold as brass, and began demanding wine. Not a single word about service for me. Unless it was to complain about my lack of it."

"And you must be Bilbo Baggins," Peony said, turning her attention to him with a faint smile. He nodded but said nothing. She was silent a bit longer, her jaw working as she thought. Finally she seemed to come to a conclusion.

"You'll do," she said simply. "It's clear that you care for one another, and Frodo assures me that, even alone, you raised him well. Despite what they say about you in town and your. . . I apologize, sir, but even I can tell you have a temper." Thorin looked away at that until she put a hand on his arm and continue, "But I can also tell you have a good heart. And Cousin Lobelia does tend to bring out the worst in everyone. I-" she trailed off, swallowing heavily and taking a deep breath.

When she spoke again, her voice was decidedly shakier than it had been. "Since I have to give it to someone," she said, "I . . . You seem like the kind of people I'd want to give it to. I mean . . . You'll raise it right, where I can't." She gave small, bitter laugh. "Probably do better than I could have. I mean, look at me. Pregnant and unpromised. Not like I'm in a position to teach it morals, right? No, it's better that I have no hand in raising it."

"You can," Thorin said suddenly, cutting her off before she could say anything else. "I mean no offense to your people, but it has never sat well with me that we were esentially taking a child from a mother by force. If you were truly willingly giving it up or had passed during the birth it would be one thing but this . . ." he trialed off, his hand involutarilly clinching. He glanced at Bilbo for a moment, grief and longing in his eyes. With a sigh and a fond smile, Bilbo nodded.

"I will not part a mother from her child against her will," Thorin said finally, turning back to Peony.

"Y-you can't back out! I can't keep it," Peony argued. "People would never allow it. My parents would never let me. Besides, the papers have already been signed. It may be in my body, but this babe is yours, sure as if you were carrying it. It's not mine anymore. I can't rob you of your property."

"That's not what we're doing, lass," Bilbo said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down and listen a moment. If I understand my mate, and I'm fairly sure I do, Thorin is not proposing that you retain sole custody of the child." The dwarf opened his mouth only to shut it again at a stern glare from Bilbo. "We understand what a scandal that would be. Now, I think there is a solution here that will please everyone."

"Thorin and I will adopt the child," Bilbo said before continuing in a louder voice to cover Thorin before he could protest, "however, we will retain your services as a wet-nurse. After all, mother's milk is better for a babe, even if a goat's will work in a pinch." Thorin was about to protest yet again that her time with the babe would be so short, while Peony was feeling relieved to spend any time at all with her babe. However Bilbo was not yet done.

"At such time as those services are no longer required," he continued with a small smile for the lass, "well, babes are messy things. Lots of laundry and such. And, well, I'm getting on in years and Thorin . . . Suffice it to say cleanliness is not an inherent dwarven trait." Despite the insult to the cleanliness of his race, Thorin couldn't help but smile as he saw where Bilbo was going with this. Yes, this was a solution he could live with. Assuming of course that Peony agreed.

"Uncle, you can't force her to work here just to see her child. That's cruel," Frodo cut in.

"That's not what I'm proposing, lad," Bilbo said sternly. "The lass will be allowed to see her child whether or not she accepts the offer. Thorin would have it no other way. What I'm proposing is that, if she wishes, we can hire her on as a live-in maid once the child is weaned. She can continue to live with her child and be paid to do the tasks she would otherwise do for free in her own home. She would be free to leave at any time and still be able to visit her child."

"And how will that look?" Frodo asked sharply. "One lass living under the roof with three males. Her reputation will never recover."

"Dís will be here," Thorin countered, truly liking the idea of the lass having an active part in her child's life. True, there would be details to work out later, such as child-rearing practices between the three of them-it wouldn't do to have the lass feel her child was being mistreated with no recourse just because it was theirs in name-but that could be addressed later.

"I don't know that she counts as-"

"I'll do it," Peony cut in, sensing an argument in the wind. "My reputation can't be salvaged at this point, Frodo. I wasn't completely honest with my parents when I came here. I was supposed to be going to a distant cousin's farm, only I came to Hobbiton. Everyone already knows I am with child. And with the Baggins name tied to it their not like to forget it. After all, this adoption is a scandal in its own right. I know this won't be easy and their are things we will need to discuss but I like it. I'd rather be in its life as a maid than not at all."

"You won't be," Thorin replied. His heart broke at the way Peony's face fell at his pronouncement. It took him a moment to realize that she thought he was rejecting the plan.

"Not as a maid," he clarified. "The child will know you are its mother. I will see to it." Peony's eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip, nodding her head in thanks.

"So, um," Bilbo said, uncomfortable with all the emotion in the room at the moment. "What are we going to do about Lobelia? Clearly she can't stay here, so shall I be the one to go and tell her to get on?"

"No need," Dís said, her tenor voice shocking them all as none of them had heard her come in and lean against the door frame. "She left some time ago saying that she wouldn't come back here. Except for the birth of your babe, dear. She asks that we send word when it is time. Says that the poor lass deserves a proper female attendant. Don't think she thinks I count."

"You count, Dís," Bilbo promised. "Lobelia's unpleasant at best and that was most certainly not her best."

"Isn't it time for tea?" Peony asked, her tone forcibly bright. "I know I for one am famished." Whether or not it was true, none of them were willing to challenge her on the issue and instead set to assembling a quick tea. After all, there had been more than enough flares of temper in Bag End for one day.

ooOO88OOoo

And real life strikes again. We are now moved, the new baby is here and life goes on. Surprisingly, so does the story. I hope it was worth the wait and I understand that slow updates do cause a loss of interest. I apologize again that it takes time.

Stickdonkeys