It had been quite a while since Dwalin had had reason to be near the Shire, but the last time he had visited, he had been met with a little suspicion, but mostly wary good cheer. So he was a little surprised at the expressions he got when he asked for directions to Bag End.

"What business do you have there, Master Dwarf?" a stout hobbit who looked to be a farmer asked him bluntly.

"My own," Dwalin replied rather stiffly. He noted that the hobbits in earshot appeared thoroughly unimpressed by this. Not wanting any trouble, and needing those directions, he decided to elaborate, "I intend to be on my way tomorrow morning, and I swear on my honour that I do not mean to disturb anybody."

The farmer eyed him a little suspiciously, but nodded, apparently satisfied with that.

"You just see that you keep your word," he said with a stern tone, before explaining where Dwalin had to go to get to the green door that the Wizard insisted he had marked.

Dwalin was caught somewhere between offense and feeling mildly impressed. Hobbits weren't generally known for being confrontational, and he was nothing if not an intimidating-looking dwarf. The fact that the farmer had made such a point of not giving him directions before he had extracted the oath from him spoke of greater courage than he might have expected.

A few minutes later, and he had found the right door.

He knocked on it.

"One moment!" he heard a voice call.

The door creaked open then, and for a moment, Dwalin thought that it had opened on its own.

Then he looked down, and saw the tiny hobbit babe looking up at him with unblinking blue eyes, a well-loved soft Olliphaunt dangling from one hand.

It had been a long time since he had seen such a tiny creature- dwarflings that small were generally kept within the family home, the better to protect them whilst they were so vulnerable.

Dwalin bent down to get a better look at him, and was bemused, (and a little pleased- he secretly loved children,) to see that Frodo looked to be unintimidated.

"Hello little one. What's your name?"

"Frodo? Where are… oh."

Dwalin looked up to see a slightly harassed-looking male hobbit walking over to scoop up the child.

"Frodo! What have I told you about answering the door without me?"

The child, (Frodo apparently,) replied promptly, "if it's a Sackville-Baggins, then we're not home."

The parent looked like he was resisting the urge to facepalm.

Dwalin, remembering Fili and Kili at that age, resisted the urge to snicker, and shared a sympathetic look with the adult hobbit over Frodo's curly head.

"I meant the other thing," he sighed.

"Oh," said Frodo. "Not to answer to strangers?" he hazarded, though 'strangers' sounded closer to 'stwangers' with his childish pronunciation.

"Yes, that would be the one."

Instant sad puppy expression. "Sorry Nuncle Bilbo."

'Nuncle Bilbo' rolled his eyes. "No harm done this time. Now go and play in your room for a little bit with Ollie. Company seems to have started arriving and I don't want you getting trodden on."

Having received a solemn nod in reply, he put Frodo down, and the little hobbit quickly scampered off.

"Your son?" Dwalin asked, curious.

The hobbit shook his head. "My ward. Technically a cousin, but I've been calling him my nephew to save confusion. Poor little mite lost his parents only a little over two years ago, and I'm the one who takes care of him." He blinked. "Sorry, where are my manners? Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Dwalin, Son of Fundin, at yours," Dwalin replied with a slight bow. He shrugged off his coat. "Anywhere I can put this?" he asked, stepping forward.

"Are you one of Gandalf's party?" Bilbo asked, holding his ground.

Dwalin looked at him oddly. Technically it was Thorin's party, after all.

"Yes."

He was surprised to see how exasperated Bilbo looked at this statement, but since his host then quickly directed him to leave his things in the hall cupboard, and then proceeded to usher him into the kitchen, Dwalin decided that the exasperation was probably not aimed at him.

Once Dwalin had been settled with a plate full of teacake and a mug of coffee, Bilbo decided that now was as good a time as any to start laying down some groundwork.

"So, my first question is, how many of you should I be expecting?" Bilbo asked. "Because I'll be blunt, the only person I know for sure to be showing up at some point is Gandalf."

Dwalin blinked. Well that explained the look of exasperation. He could only imagine how upset he would be if he had to cater to an unknown number of strangers.

"Then you have no idea why I'm here?"

Bilbo shook his head. "Something about an adventure that Gandalf seems intent on me going on. I don't even know where or for what purpose." He shrugged helplessly. "I told him no, but he wasn't listening. I invited him to tea, because I was hoping that once he realised I have to take care of Frodo, he would back off. He never said anyone else was coming, I just assumed that they would be, since he seemed to be going out of his way to throw me off balance, and there's no way to better get a hobbit on the back foot than to inundate him with surprise guests."

Dwalin frowned. "So he just walked up to you, told you he wanted you for an adventure, and then expected you to what, just agree? Without knowing any of the details?"

Bilbo shrugged. "Honestly I have not the slightest idea. As it happens, as soon as he said 'adventure' I turned him down flat. That and the fact that I didn't immediately recognise him seemed to upset him, and he didn't seem to be ready to listen to why I didn't want to go. Three years ago, I might have considered hearing him out. But now?"

As if on cue, Frodo wandered out.

"'M hungry."

"Alright Fauntling, I'll sit you down at your little table here in the corner, and you can have some cake."

Frodo, however, had other ideas, as he made a beeline for Dwalin, and then proceeded to attempt to clamber into the dwarf's lap.

Bilbo bit his lip a little anxiously, but Dwalin was unbothered (in fact, he was a little pleased,) and helped Frodo get settled.

"Better view up here, isn't it?" Dwalin stated rhetorically, watching Bilbo watch him out the corner of his eye. He tried to shoot the worried uncle a reassuring glance, but Bilbo didn't smile.

Meanwhile, Frodo nodded solemnly in response to Dwalin's question, and proceeded to make a grab for the nearest bit of seedcake.

"Frodo! Wait a moment and I'll get you your own plate! No need to take Mr. Dwalin's!"

Dwalin chuckled.

"It's fine. He reminds me a little of my cousin Dis' children from when they were his age. You'll meet them tonight. Fili and Kili are their names. Good lads. Kili only recently came of age, so he's excited to be allowed to go with us."

"So that's three others coming- Fili and Kili was it?- and Gandalf. How many others?" Bilbo asked.

Dwalin tallied up the names, and winced.

Considering that Bilbo had had no real indication that they were coming apart from a gut feeling…

"Thirteen dwarves in total and one wizard."

Bilbo breathed in slowly, and then breathed out slowly.

"Frodo-child, cover your ears."

"Why?" Frodo tilted his head, displaying a mess of cake crumbs already smeared all over his face.

"Because Uncle Bilbo is going to say some rather unkind words, and I would prefer you not learn them until your legs are long enough to outrun your grandmother when she tries to pinch your ear for saying them."

Frodo seemed to consider this, and then obediently plugged his ears.

Dwalin merely raised his eyebrows as Bilbo began to rant, starting with "soft-footed," and "peace-disturbing," before moving onto sceptical questions as to the condition of Gandalf's sanity, and where he might have learnt his manners and then finishing with "meddlesome wizards!" with the last said as though it was the gravest of insults. He wouldn't have thought the hobbit had it in him.

At this point, there came a knock on the door.

Bilbo, still coming down from his irritation, opened it.

When the visitor turned out to be a grey-bearded dwarf, instead of a grey-bearded wizard, Bilbo managed to rein in his irritation enough to be polite, ("Balin, at your service," "Bilbo, at yours") and walked him into the kitchen.

"Here, make yourself comfortable. Would you like coffee? Tea?" Bilbo disappeared into the pantry.

"Dwalin!" Balin exclaimed.

"Hello brother. I'd get up, but," he nodded to the small crumb-covered being in his lap.

Balin's eyebrows shot up.

...

A/N: Just to clarify: I've messed about with the timeline for this. In canon, Frodo wouldn't have been born for a good 20 more years or so. So he, and his parents were born comparatively earlier, but otherwise, pretty much all the details are about the same.

I mostly wanted to play about with the idea of what would happen if Bilbo had a really good reason to not want to go on adventures with Gandalf, a good enough reason that Gandalf would have to realise no amount of wheedling or manipulating or bullying was about to budge him. I always thought it a little odd how Gandalf suggested he picked out Bilbo. I thought it was based on rather a lot of assumptions. And you know what they say about people who assume...

I've mostly got this all hammered out, and it's only going to be short, so for once, when I say "stay tuned" the implication isn't "stay tuned possibly indefinitely" :P