A/N: Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews and compliments! :)
Tangelian Proudfoot, thank you so much for adding me to your favorite authors list! I've tried to add people to mine, but it doesn't seem to work. :( I don't know what I'm doing wrong.
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Chapter 2:
Bilbo kept one hand on the wall, steadying himself as he felt his way down the main corridor of his hole. He used the bright flashes of lightning and the flickering light of his candle as guides. It had been a stormy night but he hadn't woken until he heard what he believed to be a cry; coming from down the hall. Bilbo, being the concerned uncle that he was, jumped out of bed, threw a blanket over his shoulders and grabbed a candle on the way to Frodo's room. The lad had never been especially frightened by thunderstorms, but Bilbo didn't want to wait and find out in the morning that Frodo had lay in bed awake all night, unable to sleep because of the storm.
The old hobbit paused in front of a window that looked out over his front garden as a particularly vivid bolt of lightning streaked through the dark sky, followed by a booming clap of thunder that shook the earth beneath his feet. Bilbo could see the rain coming down in torrents, from every direction. Big drops of it, falling to the ground and bursting on the early- fall vegetation. He shook his head; it was strange weather for the time of year.
"Mr. Gamgee will have his work cut out for him after a storm like this," Bilbo thought, as he watched soil spill out of the flowerbed and wash away down the path with the runoff.
He continued on down the hall, and stopped in front of Frodo's door, knocking softly a few times. Bilbo waited a few moments, giving Frodo a chance to answer, before turning the knob.
The older hobbit opened the door tentatively, "Frodo?" he whispered, "Frodo, are you sleeping?" Bilbo entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "I thought I heard you call me, so I came to check in on you. This is quite a storm we're having tonight." He finished, setting his candle down on Frodo's nightstand.
"Bilbo." Frodo spoke with a sigh, barely audible over the pounding noise of the rain outside.
"Yes, lad, I'm here now. Did you call for me?" Bilbo questioned as he took a seat on the corner of Frodo's bed, putting a hand on the tweenagers small shoulder.
"No," Frodo began; "I mean, I don't think so…I didn't mean to wake you up…" he trailed off.
"Oh 'tis alright Frodo." Bilbo caught a glimpse of Frodo's face in the candlelight; his pale cheeks were clearly streaked with tears. "What's wrong, my boy?" he asked, an anxious tone to his voice. "Are you well? You feel a little on the warm side." Bilbo finished, putting the back of his hand to the tweenagers forehead.
Frodo wiped his eyes and turned onto his side; facing his uncle, "Yes uncle Bilbo. I am all right. I just had an unpleasant dream…that's all" he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes again as he began to remember it.
"Ah, I see." Bilbo began quietly, reaching one hand up to stroke Frodo's hair, "And what might that dream have been about?"
Frodo closed his eyes once more, deciding whether or not he wanted to divulge the details of his nightmare. He was a private hobbit, as many tweenagers were, and even his uncle Bilbo didn't know everything that went through his mind.
"It was about my parents, Bilbo." Frodo sighed, "Do you think that it's harder to live with this knowing that I didn't get to say goodbye? Or would saying goodbye…knowing that it was goodbye… have made it even worse?" he finished, his voice quavering.
"Well, Frodo," Bilbo looked into his young nephews deep blue eyes, "I suppose that it would have been just as hard either way… things of that nature aren't easy to deal with under any circumstances." The old hobbit continued, "The suddenness of it…" He left the sentence unfinished. He had often talked with Frodo about the accident. Acting like it never happened would have been like putting a lid over a pot of boiling water. It wouldn't have made the steam go away, nor would it have kept the pressure from building up. Though it pained Frodo to discuss what happened, Bilbo was sure that it would make for easier going in the long run. Healing often times proved to be a painful process.
"Come now, Frodo, tell your uncle Bilbo about it." Bilbo coaxed, "I won't tire of listening until you tire of talking." He smiled.
Frodo flashed a small smile to his uncle, but immediately sobered as he began to speak "I dreamt that it happened all over again." He sniffled. "I still remember it, Bilbo. The feeling I got… when I found out what had happened." He closed his eyes again, tears sliding down his face, dampening the pillow that his head lay on. Frodo shook his head slowly, trying not to lose his train of thought and regain his voice.
Bilbo could do nothing but look on, and try to comfort the tweenager with his presence. It tore at his heart to see Frodo like this. It had been over ten years since his parents died in a boating accident on the Brandywine River, but Frodo's pain was still as fresh as if it had happened only six months ago.
"Shh now, I'm here Frodo…" Bilbo soothed, gathering Frodo into his arms as the young hobbit began to cry. "We don't have to talk about this right now if it grieves you too greatly." He whispered.
After Frodo had calmed down and began to relax again, Bilbo spoke up, "Would you like a little something to eat, Frodo?" he inquired, "Perhaps some bread left from dinner, and I've a little butter and jam we can put on it if you like…" He finished, still rubbing Frodo's back.
The tweenager just shook his head and politely declined, "No thank you, Bilbo. 'Tis kind of you to offer, but I am not hungry."
Bilbo sighed inwardly; he did wish that his nephew would eat more. He was a small lad for his age, and not nearly thick enough around the middle by hobbit standards. "But," Bilbo reminded himself, "He is young yet, he's got plenty of time to grow…" the old hobbit smiled to himself, "Alright then… do you think you're ready to go back to sleep now, Frodo? The storm looks to have passed… But I'll gladly stay with you if you wish it of me." Bilbo smiled, sitting Frodo up in his lap.
"Yes Bilbo, I am very tired." Frodo yawned, "I believe I will go back to sleep now, though I would very much appreciate it if you stayed with me." Frodo looked at his uncle pleadingly.
"Of course I will, dear Frodo." Bilbo assured him, wiping the last of the tears from his nephews face.
Bilbo helped Frodo back into bed, and tucked the covers closely around him, kissing him on the forehead before moving back to the chair to go to sleep.
"Bilbo?" Frodo's small voice broke the silence that had settled heavily in the dark room.
"What is it?" Bilbo whispered back.
"I'm sorry…" The younger hobbit spoke quietly.
Bilbo sat up in his chair, looking over towards the bed to find Frodo's face turned to him. "Whatever for, Frodo?"
"Everything. Being such a bother all the time, keeping you awake with my nightmares. Being different from other hobbit-lads my age… I'm sorry." Frodo finished quietly, looking at the ceiling.
"Oh, no Frodo!" Bilbo exclaimed, louder than he meant to, "No…no, you must not ever think such things." He continued, returning his voice to a whisper as he walked over to Frodo's bedside once more. "Frodo, you are the most important and wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, and I mean every word of it." Bilbo smiled, "You must believe me when I tell you that I am truly happy to have you in my life."
Frodo turned once more to look at his uncle, "What about your adventures, Bilbo?"
Bilbo couldn't help but look a little surprised at that remark, "My adventures? Frodo, dear, I care for you far more than any adventure that I've ever been on or ever could have been on…" he smiled, "You bring me greater joy and wealth than any adventure or treasure could ever dream of." the old hobbit finished. "Now, we must get some sleep or neither of us will want to wake up in the morning! We've still got a lot of work to do in preparation for that party of ours." Bilbo laughed quietly, squeezing Frodo's hand gently.
"Yes, uncle Bilbo." Frodo smiled, squeezing his uncles' hand in return before turning over and going to sleep. "And you bring me more happiness than you will ever know, Bilbo, you saved me." Frodo whispered just before drifting off. He had failed to mention the slight pain that had just begun to develop in his stomach, dismissing it as nerves. After all, it was nothing that wouldn't wait until morning.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review. :) I know this is slow moving, but the entire fic takes place over about three days, so I can't move too fast. :) Things really get going in the next chapter though.
Tangelian Proudfoot, thank you so much for adding me to your favorite authors list! I've tried to add people to mine, but it doesn't seem to work. :( I don't know what I'm doing wrong.
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Chapter 2:
Bilbo kept one hand on the wall, steadying himself as he felt his way down the main corridor of his hole. He used the bright flashes of lightning and the flickering light of his candle as guides. It had been a stormy night but he hadn't woken until he heard what he believed to be a cry; coming from down the hall. Bilbo, being the concerned uncle that he was, jumped out of bed, threw a blanket over his shoulders and grabbed a candle on the way to Frodo's room. The lad had never been especially frightened by thunderstorms, but Bilbo didn't want to wait and find out in the morning that Frodo had lay in bed awake all night, unable to sleep because of the storm.
The old hobbit paused in front of a window that looked out over his front garden as a particularly vivid bolt of lightning streaked through the dark sky, followed by a booming clap of thunder that shook the earth beneath his feet. Bilbo could see the rain coming down in torrents, from every direction. Big drops of it, falling to the ground and bursting on the early- fall vegetation. He shook his head; it was strange weather for the time of year.
"Mr. Gamgee will have his work cut out for him after a storm like this," Bilbo thought, as he watched soil spill out of the flowerbed and wash away down the path with the runoff.
He continued on down the hall, and stopped in front of Frodo's door, knocking softly a few times. Bilbo waited a few moments, giving Frodo a chance to answer, before turning the knob.
The older hobbit opened the door tentatively, "Frodo?" he whispered, "Frodo, are you sleeping?" Bilbo entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "I thought I heard you call me, so I came to check in on you. This is quite a storm we're having tonight." He finished, setting his candle down on Frodo's nightstand.
"Bilbo." Frodo spoke with a sigh, barely audible over the pounding noise of the rain outside.
"Yes, lad, I'm here now. Did you call for me?" Bilbo questioned as he took a seat on the corner of Frodo's bed, putting a hand on the tweenagers small shoulder.
"No," Frodo began; "I mean, I don't think so…I didn't mean to wake you up…" he trailed off.
"Oh 'tis alright Frodo." Bilbo caught a glimpse of Frodo's face in the candlelight; his pale cheeks were clearly streaked with tears. "What's wrong, my boy?" he asked, an anxious tone to his voice. "Are you well? You feel a little on the warm side." Bilbo finished, putting the back of his hand to the tweenagers forehead.
Frodo wiped his eyes and turned onto his side; facing his uncle, "Yes uncle Bilbo. I am all right. I just had an unpleasant dream…that's all" he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes again as he began to remember it.
"Ah, I see." Bilbo began quietly, reaching one hand up to stroke Frodo's hair, "And what might that dream have been about?"
Frodo closed his eyes once more, deciding whether or not he wanted to divulge the details of his nightmare. He was a private hobbit, as many tweenagers were, and even his uncle Bilbo didn't know everything that went through his mind.
"It was about my parents, Bilbo." Frodo sighed, "Do you think that it's harder to live with this knowing that I didn't get to say goodbye? Or would saying goodbye…knowing that it was goodbye… have made it even worse?" he finished, his voice quavering.
"Well, Frodo," Bilbo looked into his young nephews deep blue eyes, "I suppose that it would have been just as hard either way… things of that nature aren't easy to deal with under any circumstances." The old hobbit continued, "The suddenness of it…" He left the sentence unfinished. He had often talked with Frodo about the accident. Acting like it never happened would have been like putting a lid over a pot of boiling water. It wouldn't have made the steam go away, nor would it have kept the pressure from building up. Though it pained Frodo to discuss what happened, Bilbo was sure that it would make for easier going in the long run. Healing often times proved to be a painful process.
"Come now, Frodo, tell your uncle Bilbo about it." Bilbo coaxed, "I won't tire of listening until you tire of talking." He smiled.
Frodo flashed a small smile to his uncle, but immediately sobered as he began to speak "I dreamt that it happened all over again." He sniffled. "I still remember it, Bilbo. The feeling I got… when I found out what had happened." He closed his eyes again, tears sliding down his face, dampening the pillow that his head lay on. Frodo shook his head slowly, trying not to lose his train of thought and regain his voice.
Bilbo could do nothing but look on, and try to comfort the tweenager with his presence. It tore at his heart to see Frodo like this. It had been over ten years since his parents died in a boating accident on the Brandywine River, but Frodo's pain was still as fresh as if it had happened only six months ago.
"Shh now, I'm here Frodo…" Bilbo soothed, gathering Frodo into his arms as the young hobbit began to cry. "We don't have to talk about this right now if it grieves you too greatly." He whispered.
After Frodo had calmed down and began to relax again, Bilbo spoke up, "Would you like a little something to eat, Frodo?" he inquired, "Perhaps some bread left from dinner, and I've a little butter and jam we can put on it if you like…" He finished, still rubbing Frodo's back.
The tweenager just shook his head and politely declined, "No thank you, Bilbo. 'Tis kind of you to offer, but I am not hungry."
Bilbo sighed inwardly; he did wish that his nephew would eat more. He was a small lad for his age, and not nearly thick enough around the middle by hobbit standards. "But," Bilbo reminded himself, "He is young yet, he's got plenty of time to grow…" the old hobbit smiled to himself, "Alright then… do you think you're ready to go back to sleep now, Frodo? The storm looks to have passed… But I'll gladly stay with you if you wish it of me." Bilbo smiled, sitting Frodo up in his lap.
"Yes Bilbo, I am very tired." Frodo yawned, "I believe I will go back to sleep now, though I would very much appreciate it if you stayed with me." Frodo looked at his uncle pleadingly.
"Of course I will, dear Frodo." Bilbo assured him, wiping the last of the tears from his nephews face.
Bilbo helped Frodo back into bed, and tucked the covers closely around him, kissing him on the forehead before moving back to the chair to go to sleep.
"Bilbo?" Frodo's small voice broke the silence that had settled heavily in the dark room.
"What is it?" Bilbo whispered back.
"I'm sorry…" The younger hobbit spoke quietly.
Bilbo sat up in his chair, looking over towards the bed to find Frodo's face turned to him. "Whatever for, Frodo?"
"Everything. Being such a bother all the time, keeping you awake with my nightmares. Being different from other hobbit-lads my age… I'm sorry." Frodo finished quietly, looking at the ceiling.
"Oh, no Frodo!" Bilbo exclaimed, louder than he meant to, "No…no, you must not ever think such things." He continued, returning his voice to a whisper as he walked over to Frodo's bedside once more. "Frodo, you are the most important and wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, and I mean every word of it." Bilbo smiled, "You must believe me when I tell you that I am truly happy to have you in my life."
Frodo turned once more to look at his uncle, "What about your adventures, Bilbo?"
Bilbo couldn't help but look a little surprised at that remark, "My adventures? Frodo, dear, I care for you far more than any adventure that I've ever been on or ever could have been on…" he smiled, "You bring me greater joy and wealth than any adventure or treasure could ever dream of." the old hobbit finished. "Now, we must get some sleep or neither of us will want to wake up in the morning! We've still got a lot of work to do in preparation for that party of ours." Bilbo laughed quietly, squeezing Frodo's hand gently.
"Yes, uncle Bilbo." Frodo smiled, squeezing his uncles' hand in return before turning over and going to sleep. "And you bring me more happiness than you will ever know, Bilbo, you saved me." Frodo whispered just before drifting off. He had failed to mention the slight pain that had just begun to develop in his stomach, dismissing it as nerves. After all, it was nothing that wouldn't wait until morning.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review. :) I know this is slow moving, but the entire fic takes place over about three days, so I can't move too fast. :) Things really get going in the next chapter though.