Author's Note: Hi Everyone. HAPPY NEW YEAR! I wish you an awesome 2014, I hope that it is a great one for each and everyone of you. Oh and by the way, oh my Gods! 1,100 reviews! That's insane, thank you all so much, I will try and personally thank you all. I was going to yesterday, along with updating this chapter, only I was suffering from a migraine yesterday afternoon and yeah, I just couldn't manage it. I'm sorry about that. But here, it is nonetheless, better later than never, right?
You thought that the Frodo/Thorin fluff last chapter was sweet, it's nothing compared to what is within this chapter.

Please enjoy.

Chapter Forty-Two

Don't You Worry Child

Despite his promise to Thorin earlier about not running off without someone with him, Frodo's itchy feet had gotten the better of him, as they usually did.

He wasn't trying to be bad or disobedient, it was simply he felt as if something was calling to him, calling him right to his centre and he needed to know exactly what that call was or he would never fall asleep.

He wiggled free of the bed clothes, careful not to awake the four adult hobbits sleeping in the room with him – Thorn had given them all their own rooms, and yet for one reason or another, the hobbits had all chose to sleep in Frodo's designated room within their royal guest chambers.

Frodo pulled a warm coat on, rolling up the sleeves several times so as to be able to use his fingers before padding silently out of the room. His feet still felt like they were walking on mushroom with the bandages on but at least the soft wrapping wasn't affecting his ability to move quietly.

He snuck out into the corridor, pulling forth a ball of string that he had snagged from Lady Eir sewing basket from earlier that day when she, Lady Dis and Master Dori came to take the hobbits measurement for some much needed new clothing. His uncle and grandfather were currently wearing smallish dwarf clothing, but even so they were too large. Even Frodo's clothes were too large for him even though apparently they were made for a very young dwarfling.

Frodo had pouted about that for about five minutes before he saw the ball of blue yarn peeking out of Eir basket and an idea started to form within his young head.

He tied one end of the ball of yarn to the door handle before setting off, unrolling the ball as he went following the cord that was pulling in his chest, whispering for him to come.

He followed the call into the very depths of the mountain, to a section that he had never been to before and he was sure very few visited. It was colder where he was going and less lamps were lit. It also smelt… odd.

He wrinkled his nose, frowning at the queer smell invading his nostrils but still onwards he moved until he came to a large empty chamber. The call grew immediately silent. Even though it was pitch black, Frodo could tell that where ever the call had summon him was a vast, empty space.

"This it?" he squeak in ignition. "An empty chamber? What was the point?"

"That's exactly what I would like to know?" Frodo, given the circumstance was not ashamed of screaming or the fact that he tripped backwards in attempt to get away from the unexpected voice – that sounded horribly like a dwarf king who given very strict orders about not running off – almost sending himself toppling down some stairs into the blackness below. He was stopped however by a strong arm catching him around his waist and hoist him to safety.

"What is it with you and your mother and not doing what you're both told?" Thorin growled furiously once he had set Frodo safely upon level ground once more.

"Family trait?" Frodo offered before shrinking a little under Thorin's heavy gaze.

"I thought I said…"

"I know!" Frodo said, throwing up his arms to forestall Thorin's temper and his deserved scolding, "but there was this call and I couldn't sleep and it refused to be quiet unless I followed it. I swear once I got here, I was thinking of turning back around immediately, honest."

In the dim light from a lamp nearby Frodo watched Thorin press his fingers to his temple, muttering darkly away in Khuzdul.

"Mama really wouldn't appreciate you questioning her mothering abilities." Frodo offered wisely causing Thorin to look down at him sharply.

"You understand Khuzdul?"

"Bits and pieces." Frodo shrugged. "Ori's taught me a little. Bofur and Kili tried at first but apparently they were teaching me words that are not meant to be used amongst civilised company according to Ori, so Mama banned them from teaching me anymore. I've learnt quite a bit off Bifur too but it's harder learning from him than it is Ori."

"I suppose she was more inclined for you to learn elvish, hmm?" Thorn asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yup." Frodo watched as Thorin groaned, as the dwarf king pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead.

"Your mother and her love of elves." Thorin grumbled to no one in particular.

"I like elves." Frodo pouted, "I met some too. Not Lord Elrond of course, but I met his sons once. They were with a patrol of Dune," Frodo closed his eyes for a moment focusing on the word he was trying to say, "Dunedain rangers. They didn't stay long though; they only came close to Tuckborough because Gandalf was there."

"Oh," Thorin questioned with an odd note to his tone, "and what did they want with him."

"Don't know." Frodo shrugged, "Its Gandalf. He's wanted by everyone for one reason or another. He's a very important busy person according to Mama, and yet," and he smiled faintly at this, "he always finds time to come and visit mama and me."

"You are very fond of him." Thorin guessed.

"I've known him since I was born… or rather, he's known me. He was there at my birth. He kept mama safe when she was travelling back with me, after… well…" he allowed himself to trail off as he looked cautiously up at the Dwarf King beside him who was watching him just as cautiously.

Oh, well this was awkward. He had so many thoughts that he wanted to speak, so many questions on the tip of his tongue that he didn't know where to start or if he did start if any would make any sense as so many words tumbled from his lips.

"Are you, um… maybe, possibly… I mean, is it possible that you are, um…" Frodo looked helpless up at the King who was rubbing his temple again as he moved to sit on the top of the stairs, his back leaning against the wall. Frodo moved quickly to stand by him, unsure what he should say or do.

"How long have you known?" Thorin asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"Well, um, I didn't really know exactly. More like wondered about the possibility. And then when I got here and um saw you, the wondered turned to suspicion and now I'm just waiting for confirmation." Frodo gave a small shrug of his shoulders while Thorn shook his head, bemused.

"You are so like your mother." Thorin muttered with a tiny smile. Frodo shifted awkwardly from one bandaged foot to the other.

"Is that good? Or bad?"

"Good." Thorin said with a sigh, "definitely good. I must say I am pleased you've taken after her more than say…"

"You?" Frodo offered cautiously. Thorin looked him straight in the eye again and nodded.

"Exactly."

"Why?" Frodo asked sitting down on the step beside Thorin.

"Simply because it would be better for all if you were to take more after your mother than you do after me." Thorin replied and Frodo huffed, sensing that he would not be getting a straight answer out of Thorin about this topic.

"Well, Mama says I'm more like Kili than anyone else." Frodo retorted. Thorin gave a small snort of amusement.

"Yes, you are very much like him also, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. Hopefully you have inherited his energy, your mother's brains and neither of their taste for trouble. Though it is clear to me now that you certainly have."

"And from you?"

"You look like me," Thorin replied simply, "that I believe is enough." He made to get up and most likely leave – again – causing Frodo to sigh heavily.

"Don't you like me?" the words slipped out before he could stop them and he immediately wished that they hadn't when he saw the look that they had caused to cross Thorin's face.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"You think that I do not like you?" Thorin asked softly, staring down at him intently causing Frodo to give a helpless little shrug.

"Well obviously it's something or else I would have known you all my life instead of just meeting you a few weeks out from my tenth birthday." Frodo retorted impatiently, arms crossing against his chest. "Mama said that the reason that you weren't with us for all of my life was because you are busy, that your duties and responsibilities have kept you away from us. And," he pulled a face, "and well, yes, I mean, you are the King Under the Mountain, so of course you have very important and very big responsibilities and duties that you must see to. But-but were you really so busy that we didn't matter? At all?"

Thorin was rubbing his face again.

"You think that you don't matter? You and your mother both?"

"Um… maybe?"

"Frodo," Thorin said moving down to his eye level, "I didn't even know of your existence until a matter of days ago. In fact, it was only until a matter of days ago, I was still under the belief that your mother was long dead, having died trying safe my prideful, arrogant, gold-blind hide during the Battle of Five Armies."

Frodo blinked up at Thorin his mouth hanging limply open.

Thorin gave a small humourless laugh.

"Your mother and four uncles left that part of the story out, correct?" Frodo nodded his vigorously, his brain desperately trying to process what Thorin was telling him. Mama had been in a battle? And not any battle, but the Battle of Five Armies! The great battle that he had heard being talked about so often during his time travelling to Erebor.

"Why did you think Mama was dead? Why didn't you try to find her after the battle was over?"

Frodo watched Thorin wince as he once more settled himself down upon the step.

"Because we didn't find her," Thorin replied simply, "your mother apparently fell into a ditch during the battle and due to her magic ring," he stopped and glanced at Frodo his eyes holding a question that Frodo knew the answer to, giving a quick nod for Thorin to continue, "she went by unseen, despite all the efforts of dwarves, men and – and elves put into finding her. She returned to the Shire with only Gandalf, Beorn and Lord Elrond I believe knowing she was, indeed, alive. And," the dwarf king paused for a moment before continuing, "pregnant with you."

"Oh…" Frodo said turning his gaze upon the looming darkness. "Well that sort of put a dampener of me being angry at you, huh?" he shrugged.

"Oh?" Thorin asked.

"Well, I can't exactly be angry at you over something you had no control over, now can I?" Frodo explained patiently, "That wouldn't be fair."

Thorin chuckled darkly beside him.

"You are a far kinder and wiser soul than I ever have a hope to be." Thorin said, reaching out maybe a little cautiously and ruffled Frodo's curls.

Frodo smiled shyly at him, pleased by his words.

"Your mother has brought you up well."

"What's going to happen?" Frodo asked, "When Mama gets here, I mean?"

"That is entirely up to her." Thorin replied almost a little too casually causing Frodo to raise his eyebrow.

"Are you really going to let us go? Because Uncle Lotho certainly doesn't think so." Frodo persisted.

"Frodo," Thorin sighed, "whether you stay here in Erebor, under our protection, or return to the Shire with an escort, is entirely up to whatever your mother chooses."

"But there's someone out there who wants to hurt Mama. What if she wants to leave, then that person might catch her and this time you won't be there to save her."

"No one is going to harm your mother," Thorin said his tone firm and commanding. "Not ever again. We… I will try my best to convince her to stay here until a time comes that she can leave here with – with you and your uncles and grandfather without any danger hanging over her head."

"And you would just let us go?"

"With a heavy heart, but yes." Frodo chewed over this.

"Why? Mama isn't really happy in Hobbiton anymore. I know for fact that she was thinking of moving us to Buckland or possibly Tuckborough. What's so different about us moving here?" Frodo questioned.

"Ruling out the small fact that I am here," Thorin muttered under his breath, "I can think of a couple of hundred reasons as to why your mother would be against moving to live here. No, I would be more inclined to think that she would move to live with the elves in Rivendell."

"What about me?" Frodo asked

"Your mother has drawn up a contract with Ori," Thorin explained carefully, "I admit I haven't read the whole thing through what with my being busy searching for a certain little dwobbit all around my mountain and trying to rescue his mother," Frodo blushed dark crimson, "but I know enough of it to know that she wishes for your to come here when you are of age, the hobbit's coming of age of thirty-three, to meet us – me… before deciding your fate. Remaining here with us or going out into the world to search out your own path."

"I know… I know that." Frodo muttered sighing. "Mama was never going to come with me, to here, to meet… you, was she?"

"No, I do not think she planned to."

"Why?"

Thorin sighed.

"It is complicated."

Frodo pulled a face.

"'It's complicated'," Frodo mimicked, "that's just adults way of saying you're too small and too silly to understand." He finished grouchily.

"I do not think that you are 'too silly' to understand," Thorin replied surprisingly gently, "but I do think that you are too young to. And beside this is something between your mother and I and we must sort it out before it can be properly explained to you."

"Will you?" Frodo asked hopefully, "Sort it out I mean?"

"I hope so. But it is entirely up to your mother. Whatever she wishes, I will accept and help her achieve the happiness and peace that both she and you deserve. Now, I think that the hour is quite late and you need to be back in bed or else you will never get up in the morning and I believe that would greatly disappoint Kili as he has a foot-long list of places he wants to show you tomorrow."

"Like Smaug's bedroom?" Frodo asked excitedly as he started rolling the blue cord back around the ball.

Thorin looked down at him in amusement. "I don't think you will find it to be very impressive."

"Oh… why?"

"Because we were just there and you were quite disappointed by it."

"We were?" Frodo squeaked looking back over his shoulder in the direction the vast and empty chamber they had just left.

"Yes."

"But… But… there is nothing impressive about it. Nothing at all!"

"What were you thinking to see? Vast mountains of gold and silver?" Thorin teased.

"Maybe." Frodo said not wanting to admit that he hadn't actually had any idea what of he had been expecting to see upon being shown Smaug's bedroom, only that it would be far more impressive than what little he had seen. "I don't know, just something amazing. The way Mama described it was simply… I don't know, I just imagined that it would be extraordinary."

"It was once," Thorin said as they walked through the maze of corridors, "when I first entered it, I could barely believe my eyes upon everything I saw within that chamber." Thorin rubbed his chest, remembering the sick, greedy feeling that had started to fest within his heart the moment he had first stepped into the Smaug's gold and silver bedroom. That had been the beginning of the end, really.

He shook his head and glanced back down at the happily bubbling child by his side.

"I drew a picture of Smaug and his bedroom once, when I was little," Frodo babbled happily, "Mama said it looked just like him and how she first saw him. She framed it and put it up in her study."

"Do you like drawing?" Thorin asked, desperate to know as much about this child who bore so much resemblance to him in looks but was nothing at all like him in personality and temper.

"Uh huh." Frodo beamed up at him widely, "I haven't drawn in awhile though." Frodo stuck out his bottom lip; suddenly missing the free feeling of a pencil between his fingers, the delight of watching art appeared from the pencils tip.

Thorin nodded his head thoughtfully, an idea blooming within his mind.

By the time they arrived back at the royal guest rooms, Frodo was yawning widely and rubbing his tired eyes.

He blinked sleepily up at Thorin, giving him a tired smile.

"How did you know I was gone?" he asked around a yawn as Thorin ushered him into the living chamber.

Thorin gave a small, almost shy cough as he closed the door behind them.

"I was checking on you," the king admitted, sounding almost… sheepish. "making sure that you were alright, only by the time I came to check on you tonight, you were already taking yourself on your midnight stroll."

"Oh." Frodo blushed, "sorry."

"At least you made it easy enough for one to follow and find you this time," Thorin shrugged, nodding at the ball of yarn in his hands.

"I didn't want to get lost."

"I thought you said you never got lost." Thorin offered with a tiny hint of smile while Frodo huffed.

"I don't get lost in the Shire. Here is entirely different! But just you wait and see, I'll know my way around this mountain better than I know my way around my own hand in no time flat! You see."

"Yes, yes, I'll see." Thorin snorted before sighing.

"I-I do not know much about what I'm currently doing, so you must be patient with me and forgive my mistakes and my ignorance, as this is all very new to me."

"New to me too." Frodo offered with a reassuring grin that caused Thorin to chuckle and ruffle his curls.

"Bed, little one, we will see each other again tomorrow." Thorin said as he lifted Frodo up and carried him quietly into the bedchambers, depositing him down upon his bed and tucking him under his bedclothes.

"Mama here soon" Frodo whispered sleepily a tired smile gracing his lips.

"Yes. Very soon." Thorin agreed softly, brushing stray curls away from Frodo's forehead and eyes.

"Then we'll be a family." Frodo yawned and curled up onto his side, allowing for sleep to take him, completely oblivious to the angst his final words had caused within the dwarf still standing by his bedside.

Thorin took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart before reaching out and carefully tucking the bedclothes more securely around the precious sleeping child.

"I hope so, mim ze." He muttered, as he ran a worn hand gently against Frodo's smooth cheek, "I hope so."

It was harder than Thorin would ever like to admit to leave Frodo's side, but he managed to drag himself away finally and return to his own wing for his own much needed rest. There was still much to be done before Billanna arrival, much to prepare and he needed to have his wits about him or else things could become even more complicated than they currently already were.

He settled down in his favourite armchair by the glowing embers in his fireplace, staring into its depths as his hands ran across the mithril vest laying glimmering in his lap.

Soon, very soon she would be with them again and the whole at the center of his stone heart would start to mend.

Author's Note: So Frodo knows, or rather his suspicious about Thorin being his dad are confirmed. I was going to drag this whole Frodo-not-knowing-Thorin-is-his-dad arc for a few more chapters more, but when I was writing this chapter, both the Frodo and Thorin in my head were grumbling that it was enough was enough and it had been a long enough arc as it was. It will still be a long time before Frodo and Thorin have a real father and son relationship, more so because of Thorin than anything else, but as he asks Frodo towards the end of this chapter, please be patient with him and forgive him for his mistakes and his ignorance. Raising nephews are a bit different from raising sons, and it has been a number of years since either Fili or Kili were even close to Frodo's current age, even though Frodo is far more mature than any dwarf or hobbit would be at his current age, but I'll get more into that later. I hope none you find the revelation too sudden, I have been subtle hinting for a couple of chapters that Frodo at the very least suspects Thorin is his dad. The end of last chapter in particular, Frodo was all but thinking and accepting the very high possibility that Thorin is his dad.
As you were all probably guessing from the title of this chapter I was listening to Swedish House Mafia - Don't You Worry Child while writing this chapter. Has nothing to do with chapter, really but I sort associate with Thorin. I associate a lot of odd songs with this fic and The Hobbit in general. When I've finished this fic, I'll put up the play list that I listen to when I'm writing.

Anyway, I will try and update again before I go back to work on the sixth but after that, I'm sorry to say updates will be sporadic at best. I will try and go to be my updating once a week, but no promises. I'm going to knuckle down and try and write a good many chapters before I go back so that I will have a good buff, but again, no promises.