A/N: I'm sorry for the delay in this chapter; it just didn't want to happen and I've been fighting off the flu for the past week or so :[

Thank you so much for sticking with this story and for your reviews! I'm happy to see that you all seem to be happy with little Frodo – he's my favorite part of this story, to be super honest. (Especially to the guest reviewer – your comments made my day! That's exactly what I'm going for with this story and I'm so happy to see that that's showing in my writing! :D)

CHAPTER WARNING: none

Neither Bilbo nor Frodo wanted to be the one who continued their conversation from breakfast; Frodo had never seen an adult so scared before, while Bilbo did not want to force his nephew to talk about his parents if he was not ready to. And so breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner had passed almost as if this were any other day in Bag End.

The afternoon was fading, but the heat of the day refused to leave – although that did not stop a group of faunts from stampeding up and down the row in a game of chase. Their screams and laughter broke through the lazy buzz of insects and occasional birdsong.

In the relative shade of Bag End's front garden, Bilbo was on his hands and knees; an ever-growing pile of weeds near his feet on walkway. Instead of fantasizing about Thorin watching him garden – pretending he isn't checking out my bum – Bilbo was lost in thought about his nephew, occasionally looking back when the young hobbit's voice caught his attention. It was nice to see Frodo playing with other kids in the area, especially because their day had gotten off to a rather rocky start.

All too soon, the sun began to set. Frodo walked up the lane to Bag End, a huge smile plastered on his red face.

"Uncle Bilbo! Did you see how fast I can run? Nobody could catch me and Sam and I decided that we're going to play again tomorrow because we both live really close and we have the same favorite food so we don't have to worry about eating something gross if we eat together!"
Bilbo smiled up at his nephew as he chattered on about the friends he made as he finished pulling the last weeds from this part of the garden; replacing the mulch would simply have to wait until tomorrow.

Somehow Bilbo was able to guide them inside and into the bathroom, although Frodo nervously hung back by the door as Bilbo started to draw up a bath.

"Why are we in here, Uncle?"

"We're both absolutely filthy and need baths," Bilbo replied, smiling as he pulled various soaps and towels out of the cabinet. "You especially, you're still covered in flour from dinner last night!"

Bilbo poured some soap into the tub for a bubble bath, hoping that Frodo enjoyed some bubbles in his baths. "Now Frodo, let's get you und-"

Frodo was leaning into the doorframe, grasping it with white-knuckled hands.

"Frodo?"
"No I won't take a bath."

Of course, he's scared of the water! Bilbo turned the faucets off, and rushed to crouch next to his nephew and envelop him in his arms. Frodo turned and wrapped his arms around Bilbo's neck, burying his face in the crook of his uncle's neck. Bilbo rubbed Frodo's back as he cried, occasionally murmuring words of encouragement until Frodo hung limply in his arms.

"Are you okay, Frodo?" Bilbo asked, leaning back just far enough to take a peek at his nephew's face.

Frodo frowned and shook his head. "I'm not taking a bath," he stated.

"And why not?"

"Because I'll drown and don't want to drown."

"Oh, Frodo," Bilbo hugged him closer, one hand combing through his curls as he ignored the way his legs began to cramp from crouching for so long. "It's just a bath, nothing can get you in the bath – not while I'm here. And I'll be right here the entire time, I promise."

Frodo wiped his nose with the back of his hand as he warily eyed the tub, loud sniffles punctuating the silence. "Can you save me if I start to drown?"

Bilbo wanted to smile, but kept his face serious. "I swear to you, Frodo, that I will never let you drown on my watch."

"Is it okay if I'm still scared of drowning?"

"Frodo, my lad, it's perfectly fine to be scared," Bilbo stood up, gently guiding his nephew towards the tub. "Tell me more about your new friend Sam, hmm?"

After both hobbits had bathed and the dishes from supper were put back in the cupboards, Bilbo and Frodo were on the floor in front of the fireplace. They were playing with painted wooden toys; warriors were fighting against trolls before they could make it to the dragon's home on Bilbo's favorite armchair.

"I am king of the Shire!" Frodo yelled, wiggling one of the warriors at the pile of trolls.

"Quick, sire, we must defeat the dragon and save the Shire!" Bilbo had his warrior reply before reaching up to grab the dragon. "Oh that's quite the nice Shire, I spy, full of fat little faunts to gobble up!"

"No, dragon! You can't win against the hobbits!" And the battle began, the dragon falling quickly against Frodo's legions of hobbits.

"All hail King Frodo, savior of the Shire!" Bilbo said as both of the toys in his hands bowed to Frodo, who by that point had erupted with giggles.

Bilbo smiled, happy to see his nephew so relaxed after the stressful night they'd had the night before and confronting his fears about the bathtub.

"Uncle Bilbo?"

"Hmm?" Bilbo was absentmindedly picking up the toys, his thoughts more concerned with what to prepare for breakfast the next day.

"Can I sleep in your bed again?"

"Of course."

A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short! I blame the flu and moving back to college. Hopefully tomorrow will be another snow day which means more time to write!