Chapter Twenty-Seven

Unconventional Brothers

Frodo's throat ached from all the screaming and crying he had been doing for the last few days. A part of him feels silly for acting like such a baby with all his screaming and tears but given that he had just been forcibly removed from his mother's side, with no indication as to when he would see her again, he felt he had every right for screaming and crying his head off. Only now his face stung due to wind blistering his tear streaked cheeks, his throat was raw and his eyes were red and itchy.

He rubbed the heel of his hand across his raw eyes, sniffling a little still.

"Hey, don't do that." Frodo pulled his hand away from his face to glare half-heartedly up at the person leaning over him, looking down at him with concerned muddy brown eyes.

"Why not?" Frodo grumbled as he purposely lift his hand back to his face and started to rub again.

"Now come on." A large brown hand gently caught hold of his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Frodo fought the urge to kick the oversize dwarf.

"Come on, you'll be hurting your eyes with all the rubbing you've been doing of them." Radin chide gently as he pulled him into his lap.

"Don't care. They itch."

"They itch because you've been crying." Radin replied his tone gentle and sympathetic.

"Course I been crying," Frodo hiccupped, wiggling angrily in Radin's lap, "you took me away from Mama! I want Mama!"

"I know mim ze, I know." Frodo twisted in Radin's lap, a scowl written all of his face as he cried.

"I'm not little."

Radin looked at him incredulously.

"You understand Khuzdul?"

Frodo shrugged his thin shoulders impatiently.

"A little. Mama taught me some, so did Gandy and my uncles."

"Gandy?"

"Gandalf."

"Oh, do you know what his name is in Khuzdul?" Radin asked curiously. He had never met Gandalf the Grey but he had heard a lot about him from his grandfather and from people – dwarrows, men and elves – all over the land talk about him.

An old man dressed in grey, with a staff made out a twisted tree branch. He did not look like much apparently, but in a sticky situation, you wanted him at your side.

"Yes," Frodo said as he puff out his chest proudly. "Tharkûn. And Mithrandir is his name in Sindarin."

"I didn't know that." Radin admitted sheepishly while Frodo only beamed more widely back at him.

"Have you ever met Gandalf?" Frodo asked. Radin shook his head.

"Well, my mama is a very good friend of his, so he'll be really and truly mad when he finds out about all this."

"I bet he will." Radin replied with a groan, pinching his nose as he tried not curse his ill luck in front of the youngster.

"But I won't let him be mad at you Radin, I promise." Frodo said softly as he gently touched his cheek with one of his tiny hand.

Radin gave the little boy a forced smile while his inside did somersaults and backflips. He had been wreck with guilt and worry ever since the company had broken in two groups. He hadn't wanted this, for the group to be split into two. He hadn't wanted to be separated from his younger brother who was now travelling to the arranged meeting place between Bovin and Bzog with Frodo's mother and Bovin. He hadn't wanted Frodo to be separated from his mother, but really, it was for the best, for if Frodo had stayed with her, then he would be killed alongside his mama.

At least now, heading to Erebor, the boy and the rest of his family might have a chance, a chance to live and be safe. For despite the whispers Radin had heard spoken around the campfire after the hobbits had fallen asleep about the Durin King will most likely have the hobbits killed for some past crime that one of their kin committed against him a few years passed, Radin doubted that he actually would.

Of course Radin might be completely wrong and the King might just do exactly that, but from what he had heard of the Durin King, he sounded like a fair and justice dwarf and if anyone was going to have their heads rolling because of him, it was going to be them.

Radin shuddered at the thought. He was rather attached to his head and had no wish to loss it.

Not that we don't deserve any less, he thought dully.

"Radin?"

"Hmmm? What is it?"

The boy looked up at him with big blue eyes that reminded Radin of sapphires.

"Are we really going to Erebor?"

"Ah, yes, I believe so."

The boy brighten for some reason. It took Radin a moment to remember that the boy might actually be the son of the Durin King who ruled from within Erebor's great rock walls. Not that he was sure the boy actually knew this. But hadn't he said something about dwarven uncles?

"You have uncles, who live there, don't you?"

"I think so." Frodo cheeks turned a little red beneath his wind blisters, "I've heard them and mama talking about Erebor b'fore, but they've also said Eren Luid. So…" the boy trailed off weakly, his eyes turning hopeless.

"They might be in Erebor." Radin reassured his young charge.

"Yes, they might!" the hopelessness left Frodo's eyes as quickly as it had appeared and a fierce fire suddenly burned brightly within the sapphire orbs. "And they will find Mama and kill Bovin and make everything right again!"

"Kill me and Ranon too." Radin muttered under his breath, not meaning for the little one to hear, only as proven many times before these little hobbit or hobarf in this case had sharp little ears so the lad heard his words and his small face twisted in distress.

"No. no, no, no, I won't let them! I won't let them kill you and Ranon. You're my friends! Mama's friends! They wouldn't kill mine and mama's friends!"

"Friends don't kidnap each another mim ze." Radin muttered, picking up a stone on the edge of the road and threw it angrily at an old, decrepit tree.

They were out of the mountains now and were heading north, towards Ered Mithrin so as to not pass through the dreaded Mirkwood. From the Ered Mithrin they would head south east. Moving far too close to the Iron Hills for Radin's liking, if only because he knew that the Lord of the Iron Hills was a cousin and friend of Thorin Oakenshield, the supposed sire of the child sitting in his lap.

Radin sighed heavily, his chin coming to rest on Frodo's dark curls and the pair stared miserably back at the Misty Mountains.

"Lad. Lad." Radin woke with a start as a gentle but firm hand shook him awake. He could hear Frodo grumbling in his lap as the lad curled in closer to his chest as he continued to sleep.

Radin rubbed his eyes and blinked up in the dim light – was it evening or early morning, he couldn't tell – at the dwarf who had shaken him awake.

"Hoggle? What is it?" Radin asked as he blinked blearily at the dwarf standing beside him. Hoggle wasn't, in fact, the dwarf's real name but it might as well be, people were always calling him that. Radin knew him by no other name. Radin doubted that Hoggle even remembered the name that his mother gave him at his birth if only because Ranon asked him once at the beginning of their mission and the dwarf had looked at him blankly before taking a large swig of some foul smelling drink from his hip flask.

"We're moving out." The old dwarf stated with a shrug of his stiff shoulders, "Dagan wants to be well clear of these parts of the mountains by midday. Wake the little lad or carry him, we leave once we've finish our fast."

"What of the other hobbits?" Radin asked.

Hoggle sighed heavily.

"They've quieted down some, though they're still not happy." Hoggle rolled his bright blue eyes, his heavily lined face grimacing. "Obviously."

"Obviously."

"The old one has perked up a little. His mind seems to have returned some to him."

"Good." Radin said as he pushed himself carefully up the rock that he had been leaning against, so as not to disturb the still slumbering boy in his arms.

"Sooner we get these lot to Erebor, the sooner we get home, lad." Hoggle said as the two strode to the campfire.

"Yeah…" Radin said softly as he looked at the slumbering boy in his arms.

He closed his eyes at the thought of where the boy's mother was heading. His brother as well. Why had Bovin split them up? Why?

As much as he was happy to be caring for the little lad, he was frightened as to what fate awaited his little brother.

Please Mahal, protect him. Please.

The sun was high in the sky when Radin's party called a halt by a shallow river and it was decided that they were all in high need of a bath.

The hobbits as usual were less incline to go along with any suggestion that was made by a dwarf but after one dwarf threaten - teasingly, Radin would like to add, though the Halflings' didn't appear to see the difference between teasing and true threats when it came to dwarves. But given the state of their situation, Radin didn't half blame them for being a bit wary of the dwarves, even though the dwarves who made up this party were far more mild-mannered and had only come along for the venture due to their desperate need of money – to throw them into the river.

It appeared only two of the Halflings knew how to swim and so these two were, once they were convinced that the dwarves weren't going to try and drown them, in the water and splashing about rather quickly. The other two stared at the water with great distrust before finally being convinced by their younger kin to come in only to their knees while the dwarves looked on, laughing good naturedly at their cautious nature.

Radin it seemed had once again been landed with the hardiest job in all the company which involved trying to convince young Frodo that having a bath was a good idea.

The lad was very, very much against going near the water. Or rather, he seemed to be very reluctant to take his shirt off at the very least, the hems of which he clutched tightly in his little fist as he shook his black curls, snapping no and running away every time Radin came close to snagging him.

"No! Radin, no!"

"But Frodo why not? You don't want to be the only one still being smelly once we start moving again, do you?"

The nine year old glared nastily up at him for speaking to him as if he was just a little babe. Though, by dwarf standards the lad would still be considered little more than a baby. By a humans standards, he would be considered a few years short of being considered an adult and would already be helping out with the family business.

He had no idea how hobbits' aged, though he vaguely knew from what he had overheard from the hobbit family that a hobbit came of age at thirty-three. An odd age, in Radin's mind at least, for anyone to be finally considered an adult, but who was he to question another race about their way of life?

"Frodo," He lowered himself to a crouch and looked the little boy straight into his sapphire blue eyes.

The boy stared back at him with hard eyes, unrelenting, refusing to back down.

"It's just a little water, a bit chilly, I'll grant you, but nothing that will hurt you mim ze."

"I'm not afraid of water." Frodo muttered as he dug a larger than normal toe into the soft soil.

"Then what is it? The cold?"

"I promised Mama…" the lad trailed off and looked away from Radin and the river and towards the mountains, in the direction that his mother might be in.

"What did you promise her? To be the smelliest little Hobarf around?" Frodo shook his head, his little face pulled into a frown.

"Dwobbit."

"Huh?" Radin cocked his head to one side curiously.

"Dwobbit. I'm a Dwobbit. Not Hobarf. A Dwobbit."

"Alright then." Radin said with a slow nod of his head as he registered just how serious the boy was about the matter. It reminded him of how Ranon had been about their mixed blood before he built his impenetrable wall around him.

"I'm sure your Mama didn't make you promise to be the smelliest Dwobbit in all the land. In fact, I do believe that would go against her contract of being a mother."

Frodo giggled letting Radin believe that they were finally getting somewhere. He moved a little closer only for the boy to dart a few more steps away from him, his face once more guarded.

"Frodo." Radin groaned.

"I can't."

"Can't? Can't what? Have a bath? Sure you can?"

Frodo pulled a face.

"It's not the bath, it's…" his fists twisted tighter within the hem of his shirt.

Radin thought he saw a gleam of silver in the sunlit around the boy's collar.

"Come on," Radin said gently, "whatever it is, I promise not to tell anyone."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart or Mahal will smash his hammer down upon me."

Still the little lad hesitated before creeping forward to stand in front of him.

"You can't tell anyone. Promise that you won't." Frodo said in an earnest whisper, "Mama says I couldn't tell a soul about this or it will be taken from me and I won't be kept safe anymore."

Radin nodded slowly, unsure what this was all about until Frodo unbutton his shirt and revealed a stunning shirt of sliver rings.

"Mithril." Radin whispered, struck dumb.

The boy shift uncomfortably under his amazed gaze forcing Radin to snap out of his awe struck stupor.

"Where did you get this?"

"Mama had it in her wardrobe. Before that she had it hidden in a chest with Sting and other things that she brought back from her venture."

"Ah." Radin mumbled as he continued to stare in awe at the shiny mail shirt, "a present from her dwarves?"

"I think so." Frodo said slowly, "I'm not sure, none of my uncles mention it whenever they come to visit." He plucked at the shiny mail, nibbling on his bottom lip as he did so, "maybe… maybe my…"

"Maybe your papa gave it to her." Radin finished him causing the lad to blush but there was a hopeful looking in his blue eyes.

"Maybe. She never talks about him." Frodo mutter his eyes turning dark.

"Never?" Radin pressed gently.

The little lad shook his head.

"Well… maybe not never." Frodo mused, "But I know very little about him. I don't even know his name."

"He isn't one of the dwarves your mother travelled with?"

"I-I don't know. I mean, mama's told me all about her dwarves, but-but she never told me which was my papa."

"She told you about every single one of them?" Radin asked as he carefully pulled off Frodo's cotton shirt and then mithril one, quickly tucking it within his other shirt – he stuff both shirts carefully within one his jackets large pockets – and then the boy's trousers so that he was know only in his under-things before he lifted the lad up into his arms. He could feel the other hobbits watching him closely as he carried Frodo to river's edge.

Radin waded into the cool water with Frodo settled on his hip, grinning as lad yelped and squirmed on his hip when the water came to his waist.

Radin could see the two braver hobbits were swimming close by, watching him intently but seemed to relax when Frodo waved at them before splashing his hands and feet in the clear water.

"Frodo?"

"Hmmm? Oh yes, she did. I know all about them from her and my uncles, cos my uncles were some of the dwarves that went with her." Frodo grinned widely.

"But none of them are…"

"Nah. I thought that one of them was, maybe, but he and mama are just good friends."

"How do you know?"

"I asked him."

"Ah." Radin said wincing slightly at the blunt manner the lad used when answering his question. He could just imagine the boy using the same bluntness when determining if one of his mother's dwarf friends were his father. "And what did he say?"

"He just smiled at me sadly, ruffled my hair and said no, he wasn't my adad." Frodo said with a small sigh.

"Did you ask him if he knows your adad?"

"He didn't say but Mama says that he and the others know my papa. That they will come with me when I'm to meet him when I'm older."

"When you're of age?"

Frodo shrugged as he trailed his fingers in the water.

"I guess."

"Long time to wait to meet ones papa." Radin mused as Frodo pulled a face before looking up at Radin questioningly.

"Do you know your papa?"

Radin tried to keep his face blank as dark emotions raged within.

"Yes, I did." Radin said stiffly causing the little boy to look startled by his sudden change of mood.

"Didn't you like him?"

"I liked him just fine, it just…" Radin fought to keep himself in check, to stop himself before he lashed out at this innocent child.

Radin closed his eyes, counting slowly under his breath until he regained his calm.

"I liked him a lot," he started again. "He was a good father, the best actually, given the circumstance." He sighed softly, "he was a good man and he wouldn't be very proud of me, not for the choices I've made."

"So," Frodo said softly, clearly choosing his words carefully, "your papa is of the race of men and you mama…"

"Is a dwarrowdam, yeah."

"So, we're brothers." Frodo said brightly while Radin stared at him incredulously.

"Sort of." Frodo add with a sheepish smile.

"How in Mahal's name did you come to that conclusion mim ze?"

"Well, ah." Frodo stuttered, his face scrunched as he thought deeply over his proclamation of them being brothers, "we both have dwarves as a parent but a member of another race as out other parent. So we're not true dwarves."

"Thanks for reminding me." Radin muttered though Frodo continued on as if he hadn't heard him.

"We're both halves of the same race and due to that we don't fit in anywhere, which makes us family."

"Eh…" Radin stared at the little boy in bemusement.

"Mama wouldn't mind if you and Ranon became my brothers."

"My mother wouldn't mind either, but if you told her your reasoning for us being brothers she would understand it even less than me."

"We're family; families don't have to make sense." Frodo informed him wisely causing Radin to laugh.

"I'll say. I mean, look at us for example, we shouldn't even exist." Frodo smiled and nodded.

"Radin!" Radin and Frodo looked towards the bank where most of the dwarves and the hobbits now saw, drying themselves after their chilly bath. Hoggle was standing closest to the water and calling to them, "Are you and the lad actually cleaning yourself or just standing there? We'll be moving on soon."

"Alright." Radin said and then with a cheeky smirk, he threw the squealing dwobbit into the water. Frodo's head broke the surface of the water with a great series of spluttering.

"Why you do that for?!" the boy all but screamed back at him.

Radin grin only grew wider as he walked over to the little boy and lifted him out of the water.

"You said that we were brothers."

"Yes?" Frodo said eyeing him suspiciously from beneath his water log curls.

"Well," Radin drawled as he made to throw Frodo again, "this is what brother do!" the boy let out another squeal but this time it was filled with delight as he soared through the air before making a great splash in the river.

"You - you be careful with-with 'im." Radin looked back at the river bank in surprise to see the old hobbit – who had been slowly coming back to his own mind – watching them closely with a worried expression on his warn, pale face.

"I'm fine Grandpapa." Frodo cried as he dog-paddle back to Radin to be thrown again. The old hobbit seemed to be reassured a little but it didn't stop him from watching them closely as they played around in the water and as soon as they came out, Frodo was immediately snared by his grandfather and cousins (or were they his uncles? Radin was exactly sure what relations the three other hobbit had with the lad.).

Radin returned the lad's clothes to him and the boy quickly pulled them on once he had sufficiently dried himself.

They didn't get particularly far that day, but the mood was reasonably good that no one minded. They weren't in as a great a hurry as Bovin and the rest of their company were, so the dwarves were far happier to take longer rests during the day than they had been previously.

That night, the air was almost jolly, feeling more like they were on friendly venture than one of a much darker tone.

Frodo stayed close to Radin's side every chance he got. Whenever his grandfather or cousins forgot to keep him in their circle, he was by Radin's side asking questions about his family and where in Middle-Earth he had travelled and other such questions that only a child could ask and get away with without being considered an annoyance. And Radin didn't mind. The lad reminded him of Ranon when he was younger and before the darkness and hate crept in to his heart.

Radin prayed to Mahal that the same darkness and hate would not creep into the little Dwobbit. He prayed that the dwarves of Erebor would claim him and accept him and maybe, just maybe they would find it in their hearts to go and save the lad's mother from the evil clutches of Bzog.

Author's Note: I had fun writing this chapter, mainly because my writers block had finally, finally broken and also because I just love writing for Frodo and Radin. These two will be featured heavily in the next few chapters :D
I have fallen quite in love with their big brother/little brother bond which will only strengthen as this story goes on.
Oh, I'm going to be throwing in more Khuzdul words in here as we get Frodo closer and closer to Erebor.
I've been relying heavily upon Neo-Khuzdul Dictionaries for Lotro Dwarves. This site has been very helpful with, well anything to do with me trying to write characters speaking Khuzdul.
The Khuzdul words used in this chapter are;
Mim – little
and Ze - one
Anyway, this chapter was basically meant to be a feel good chapter after all the heartbreak and drama of the last chapter. Actually the next couple of chapters will be a bit more light-hearted, mainly due to them being from Frodo's POV. As I've said before Frodo is fun to write.

I know I said that I would summaries how chapter 26 was originally meant to go in this chapters author's notes but as I tried writing down the summary of the original chapter, I found even the summary too dark and distressing - and i'm the damn author of this thing! I mean, I thought up the original chapter and I found it distressing, mainly due to Frodo being physically threatened and Bilbo having to watch her child being threaten, something no parent should ever have to go through - or child - and it was... it was just too dark for me to continue with and it had to be cut - to write here.
If you really want to know how chapter 26 was meant to go, just drop me a comment and I'll try to summaries the best I can.
Next chapter we're still with Frodo and Radin and we're moving steadily closer to the thing that we've all be waiting for; the meeting of Thorin and Frodo... which of course, will not be straight forward in the least!

Oh, I've had a few people asking where the hell Gandalf is? Well, Gandalf will appear again in this fanfic... but not for quite some time still. He's busy, off somewhere else in Middle-Earth, doing only Valar knows what. Remember in LOTR he's gone for 17 years between Bilbo's 111 birthday and the next time he visits Frodo. I don't think Wizards are very good at measuring time. For them, what they think is a couple of months or something, is actually a couple of years. But anyway, he will come into this fic again, but not for quite some time, he'll arrive precisely when he means to and is needed most which oddly enough, isn't right now, as hard as that is to believe.
Anyway, enough of my rambling.
Thanks for reading.

P.S. who can guess where I borrowed a certain dwarf's name? I was watching the movie recently, and decided to throw a tiny tribute to it in here. I was going to write the certain dwarf more like his name sake but sadly didn't quite manage it.