Author's Note: Okay, so yeah, I know I said in the last chapter that I would post this chapter, like immediately afterwards. Obviously I didn't and I'm sorry. I just, sort of, had a bit of a 'Damn, this story really sucks' moment... I won't go into details, but I just got a little down after the posting of the last chapter. It's stupid, seriously, because if I can't cope with my fanfic being criticized then how the hell am I ever going to survive having book/s published. But anyway, I'm getting over that (I think I'm just over-tired and am extremely stressed from work at the moment, so everything is feeling a bit personal at the moment) but I'm thinking I might start trimming back on some of the stuff I originally planned. I mean, this fic is getting more than a little long in the tooth, right? So I'm going to cut back on some stuff and condense it a bit.
Alrighty enough of my yammering. Please enjoy.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

The Revealment

Frodo was feeling much more like himself after his talk with Bofur. He didn't feel quite so suffocated or like the great stone walls were shrinking in all around him. He felt normal, not exactly happy yet but the things that had been bothering and upsetting him before held little sway over his mood now. He listened much more eagerly to what Bombur's boys said to him and smiled a little more widely when Kili looked at him.

He actually had a slight bounce to his step as they returned to Bofur's and Bifur's stall, causing many dwarves to look at him curiously, some obviously noticing his bare feet, whispering behind their hands as they pointed at them and his face. He simply smiled back at those who stared at him leaving them looking more than a little dumbstruck but he didn't dwell upon them or why they were looking at him with such amazement and in few cases, calculating eyes.

While Bombur's boys, upon returning to Bofur's and Bifur's toy stall, immediately took to looking over the beautiful crafted toys their uncle and cousin had made, Frodo continued to look around. He made sure he stayed within eye shot of his uncles (it was only this promise that had kept Kili from accompanying him) as he wandered over to fruit seller that he hadn't seen previously.

The fruit seller eyed him curiously but did not say a word against Frodo lingering around her stall, taking big long sniffs of her fruit and vegetables. Her produce was nothing like what was sold in the Shire but even so, it was a great comfort to smell apples, berries, tomatoes and potatoes again.

He was just thinking of heading back to Kili and the others when he was suddenly shoved to the stone ground. In his desperation to catch himself as he fell backwards, Frodo made a grab for the side of the stall, catching the cuff of his shirt on one of the nails that the fruit sellers stall sign hung upon, causing his shirt to rip at the seam of his shoulder as he fell.

"Hey now." The dwarrowdam fruit seller cried, "none of that you little scamp!" For a moment Frodo worried that the fruit seller was yelling at him but when he gained a grasp of his bearing he saw Wren and his minions running off into the crowd.

"Up ya get love." The fruit seller said kindly as she helped Frodo to his feet. "Poor love," she tuttered as she started to brush him down, taking in the torn shoulder of his shirt and the tear in his sleeve from where it was caught and pulled on by the nail. With gentle hands she turned him around so she could brush down his back.

"I'm fine, really, truly." Frodo spluttered as he watched his uncles raced towards him.

"Of course ya are love, of course…" Frodo felt the fruit sellers fingers freeze as they touched his bare shoulder, the tips of her fingers pressing just below Frodo's odd birthmark. Frodo peered over his shoulder curiously just as his uncles came to his side.

"Ah…"

"Durin." The fruit seller breathed her eyes wide with awe and amazement. "Durin walks amongst us once more." She cried, her voice echoing around the market, of the stone walls and ceiling.

"Huh?" Frodo gaped at her as Kili pulled him to his side as more dwarves, who had heard the fruit seller's words, stopped what they were doing to stare. Frodo shrank beneath their stares, as all at once the word 'Durin' whispered like an echoing wave around the market.

"What do they mean?" Frodo whispered tugging at Kili's shirt, "who do they mean? Why are they all looking at me? Kili?!"

"The boy is Durin reborn."

"The king's son is Durin."

"Durin has returned."

"C'mon." a soft voice said suddenly from behind them, "let's leave before the masses think to grab him." Frodo startled only a little to find Nori standing with them, his face oddly serious.

"Ah, right…" Kili said and started to pull Frodo as quickly as he could away from the growing crowd. Bofur remained where he stood, his nephews safely standing with Bifur, his clear voice ringing out over the echo of voices, though Frodo could not catch a word his uncle said that had the crowd looking to him and not direction Frodo was being pulled in.

"Well, that went well." Nori was saying sarcastically as they moved up an empty corridor.

"I'm sorry." Frodo babbled, "I didn't mean to rip my shirt. I was pushed and it ripped when I tried to catch myself. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault laddie, just a… an added complication, that's all." Nori reassured him gently though Frodo didn't feel very reassured. No, not one bit.

"What did they mean?" Frodo questioned desperately, "Why did they look at me and call me 'Durin'? Who is Durin. What do they mean by 'reborn'? What's going on?"

"Ah…" Was all his uncle seemed to say while Nori sent him an almost apologetic look which did nothing to help ease Frodo confusion or fear. Was there something wrong with him? Was that why everyone was calling him Durin?

With his opposite hand, he reached up and lightly touched his offending shoulder, running his finger over the mark that he knew glared darkly from his pale skin. His mother had always told him that his birthmark, so different from the ones other hobbit children had, was nothing to be ashamed of, that it meant he was special and unique. Now, now he feared it meant something worse, maybe his birthmark actually meant something terrible!

To his horror, he found tears starting to swell behind his eyes while a sob was trying to irritate its way out of his throat.

"Oh no Frodo, don't cry." For as hard as Frodo had tried to keep his misery to himself, a tiny sob had escaped him and immediately caught the attention of Kili and Nori. Before he knew what had happened, he was up in Kili's arms.

"Don't cry." Kili said softly against his curls, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Frodo's back.

"I don't understand anything." Frodo sniffed against his hands.

"I know," Kili whispered, "I know, but you will, promise."

Frodo simply nodded and allowed for Kili to carry him back to his mother's room.

"Kili," Balin started when he and Kili entered the room (Nori had disappeared at some point without Frodo's notice), "We're not…"

"MAMA!" Frodo squirmed out of Kili's arms, hitting the floor at a run. He bounded to his mother's side, her face startled and full of concern, replacing the tired, miserable look she had been wearing as they had entered the room.

"Frodo, what…" But he did not allow her to speak any more words before the whole story came flowing out of his mouth with the speed of speech that only a nervous, upset child could possess.

"Frodo, I… Dear heart, sorry but I caught none of that." His mother said once he had finished causing for a frustrated cry to escape him, startling everyone in the room.

"They called me Durin! They saw my mark and called me Durin!"

"Mark?" his mother questioned, catching his shoulders and forcing him to remain still and look at her, "what mark?"

"My birthmark." Frodo cried, "the one on my shoulder, the one like no one else in the Shire has. People saw it and started calling me 'Durin'!"

His mother's face crinkled with confusion as she stared at him. He allowed for her to turn him around, her fingers lightly touching his birthmark.

"Durin." He heard his mother mutter, "Are you sure?" he looked over his shoulder back at her and saw the look on her face as being the one that she wore whenever she was desperately trying to remember something she had long forgotten.

He heard an uncomfortable cough nearby and both mother and child stared at the dwarves standing in the room, each looking extremely uncomfortable.

"What?" Frodo's heard his mother asked her tone strangely hard, "What do you know that we don't?"

Balin sighed heavily.

"It's rather complicated." Balin said after a brief moment.

"Then un-complicate it!" His mother growled back angrily, her hands on Frodo's shoulders tightening. There was a snort at the doorway alerting them all that Nori had returned.

"Mother bear." He said by way of greeting, nodding his head to Frodo's still fuming mother.

"I'll show you mother bear." Bilbo retorted furiously, "What do you know about Durin? I know…"

"Of course you know," Nori interrupted her easily, "Durin's day remember? Our whole quest was sort centre around us getting here before that particular day occurred. Not to mention, us being of Durin's folk.

"Yes, I know about Durin's Day, I remember that all well enough." Bilbo replied in exasperation, "But the person, the dwarf that that day was named after, him I don't remember much of."

"That is to be expected," Balin stepped in, "we did not tell you much about him during the days of the quest."

"Then tell me about him now. What little I remember of him is that he was a dwarven king, one of the seven dwarven fathers, yes?" Bilbo cried. Normally she would not push so hard for knowledge, especially knowledge about dwarven culture, which she understood well enough to know that it was guarded fiercely and not revealed lightly to those of different races. But with her child so upset and trembling against her, her usual strong sense of logic and calm took flight and she was all for turning into a 'Mother bear' as Nori had just called her to gain the information she needed to set her child mind to rest.

Or not, a voice whispered softly in her head, knowledge is power and can be a great burden. Do you truly wish to put such a burden upon your child?

Bilbo swallowed, as that thought start a flow of doubt inside her head, giving her half a mind to back down and not press the matter further but…

Her mind went completely blank, losing all rivers of thought as he walked into her chambers, his stride cautious and measured and even though his face was calm and portraying very little emotion she could see that his eyes were wary and there was most definitely worry in those sapphire orbs.

She sort of blinked at him stupidly, like a stunned mullet, her brain all the while desperately trying to crank itself back into active working but couldn't as it was continuously bombarded by different memories, some lovely, some… not so much.

Thankfully he did not make any mention to her apparent lack of ability to speak or the fact that she was quickly on her way to hyperventilating, instead he kept his attention firmly on the child clutched to her side.

"You came." Frodo said obviously forgetting for the moment his previous distress.

"Of course I did," Thorin replied calmly as he came to kneel in front of Frodo, "Now, tell me what has happened to get both you and your mother so upset?"

"Oh…" Frodo sighed, looking from his mother to Thorin, "alright then," and so Frodo told the story again, slower this time, staring at his feet more often than not. When he finished Thorin simply nodded in a tired fashion.

"Well, can't be helped." Balin sighed.

"What?" Bilbo yelped, her voice finally returning, "What can't be helped? What is going on? Thorin?" She looked away from Balin and stared straight at Thorin. Once again she found herself to be amazed by how easily his name passes by her lips; easier than breathing it was, to speak his name again. And looking at him, having him right in front of her, meeting her straight in the eyes, didn't cripple her either. It didn't hurt to have him here, to see him, to hear him, to breath in his scent. She wasn't ready to forgive and forget (alright, so maybe it was the forgetting part that she wasn't ready for), but she could stand to have him near her; she could bear having to talk to him, seeing him, breahing him in. The pain was still there, and so was the old fear, but it no longer suffocated her and just as long as he made no sudden movements, did not raised his voice, maybe just maybe she could make it through this meeting without bursting in to tears or having a panic attack.

No.

No, she would do none of those things; she was stronger than that and she would be for the child in her arms. Nori was right, she was a mother bear and right at this moment her cub was frighten and dammit, she was going to make whoever had caused him this fright to pay, so help her. She would make herself survive this unexpected meeting with Thorin, no matter what he said or did, she would survive and protect her child.

"He is Durin."

Despite herself and her previous misgivings and anxiety, Bilbo took her eyes off of Thorin and rolled them towards the ceiling of her chamber, sighing in exasperation.

"'He is Durin'? And what does that mean?"

"Simply that, he is Durin." Thorin gently reached over Frodo and pointed to the birthmark on his shoulder. She stared at the mark, wracking her mind again for everything she remembered being told about Durin.

"Durin… Durin…Durin reborn..." Something in her brain clicked and she met Thorin with wide frantic eyes.

"No, no, no." Bilbo shook her head, "No. That's not possible, he can't be."

"Why can't he be?" Thorin asked her quietly and it was like it was only the two of them in the room, like their child wasn't between them, nor were there any dwarves standing nearby watching them cautiously, waiting for a moment to jump in between the two of them for any reason they saw fit.

"Because it's not possible! He's a dwobbit! Isn't that special enough, unique enough? Why must you place the burden of him being the reincarnation of one of the seven fathers of dwarves, the most famous, the most revered of them all! Durin the Deathless, you cannot be serious. Why…why would he choose to be reborn into a dwobbit? Into Frodo? What can he possibly hope to gain? No, no, no." She shook her head furiously, all the while her brain dug up all she knew about Durin the Deathless, which beside from the basics that she had already blurted out, was very little.

She could feel terror start to burn its way through her body, her chest heaving as her lungs fought for more air. Wasn't her son's life hard enough, being what he was without adding the extra weight of him being Durin? Why, why would anyone wish such a fate, such a destiny upon one who was already facing so much hardship in his path of life.

"Bilbo, breath." Balin soothed somewhere near her.

"I am breathing." She wheezed.

"Erratically." Nori replied, "Deep breaths, in and out, calmly and not too fast, keep them even. There you go, feel better?" If he was closer she would hit him, repeatedly, with Sting. But still, she did as he said and managed to get her breathing under control even though her heart was still threatening leap up into her throat.

"Is-is it bad?" She could hear Frodo asking as he leant back harder against her (If he put any more pressure upon her legs, they were going to buckle and send them both tumbling to the ground), "me being Durin? Is that bad?"

"No," Despite her terror and her heart threatening mutiny, her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles as she watch Thorin smiling at her son, their son, "no, it is not bad. But I will not lie to you; Mahal has not set you upon an easy road. Even if you were not a dwobbit, but full blooded dwarf, the road before you would still be a difficult one."

"And by being a dwobbit?'

"Your road will most likely be even more difficult… but no less interesting. It will be a hard road, mim ze, but I know that you will be able to navigate your way. And you will not be alone. We will be with you for much of the way."

Bilbo closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. She hadn't realised how badly she needed to hear him speak such words.

"Okay." Frodo said softly, "so I do not need to be scared then?"

"No."

"And neither does Mama?"

"No, your mother does not need to be scared of this either. But knowing her, this will not stop her from worrying."

"Of course not." Bilbo sighed, running her hands over Frodo's curls. She felt quite weak at the knees and needed to sit down. Which she did, not at all surprised by Frodo climbing into her lap, his face turned expectantly upon his father.

"What does it mean, my being Durin?" Frodo asked Thorin. Of course the lad could have asked Balin or Ori who had both resumed their seats at the table beside her, but her son seemed to be determined to keep Thorin talking, maybe fearing that the moment he stopped talking to him, Thorin would disappear just as Nori had done just moments before, taking Kili with him.

"Hmmm," Thorin said with almost a playful air about him, "where to start. It is quite a long, involved story, I'm warning you now."

"I like stories," Frodo replied shifting in Bilbo's lap to make himself more comfortable, leaning back against her chest "and I don't mind if they're long or involved, makes them more interesting. Right Mama?" Bilbo just smiled at him, her head was still swimming at the revelation about his birthmark that her voice had once again abandoned her. Maybe it was for the best, until she got her head sorted out maybe it was better she couldn't talk, less chance of her saying something foolish to Thorin.

Ah, Thorin… well, this meeting hadn't turned out to be half as awkward as she feared it would be, but then it seemed the concern for their child most definitely overwhelmed whatever negative or uncomfortable emotions the two of them might feel for each other.

Thorin was very patient as he explained the history of Durin the Deathless which as it turned out to be indeed a very long, involved, complicated tale. But Frodo listen attentively as did Bilbo, and Balin and Ori threw in some of their knowledge of the story when Thorin grew to be a little stuck in his tale.

They were nowhere near finished Durin's tale when Thorin stopped to rest his voice which had started to crack and grow very dry from all his talking.

For once Frodo did not grumble over a story being stopped before it was finished, his blues eyes instead appeared serious and thoughtful as he leant back against his mother's chest, obviously thinking over everything he had heard.

Bilbo leant forward and kissed her son's forehead, smoothing out the tiny creases that had formed there from all his hard thinking.

He was accepting it, like he accepted most things in his life. Yes, it had caused him some initial panic and fright but now that he understood as much as his young mind was able, he was adapting and accepting this new development in his life.

She couldn't help but stare at him in wonder. What had she done in her life to be blessed with this remarkable little boy? And from a quick glance at Thorin it was clear he was wondering the exact same thing in regards to himself.