Once the groceries were put up, Balin knew that the time had come to say what needed to be said. His brother was still seething, and what he was about to say would do nothing to calm his temper. Even so, he knew that if they wanted to stay in Bag End, or even in the Shire, to help Bilbo celebrate his birthday properly a good will gesture was needed.

"Lads," Balin said with a sigh. "We need to tone it down."

"What?" Bofur asked. "Why? We're just having a bit of fun. He's the one that's overreacting. We haven't done anything more than we usually do. Not really."

"Exactly," Balin said looking at the two of them worry and confusion on his face. "We've behaved just like we always have and he's not responding the same way. Something's wrong. Bilbo has never gotten angry with us before, not really, and today alone we have already managed to accomplish it not once but three times."

"Then he needs to quit being so sensitive," Dwalin snarled not feeling particularly generous to the hobbit that had just punched him in the nose. "He knows this is how we behave and he invited us to come anyway. He should not be surprised or upset by our words."

"No," Balin agreed, "but he is. And I can almost understand it." He held up his hands as his brother made to speak and continued in a slightly louder tone. "Think about it, Dwalin. I'm not saying that he's right, mind you, but the poor lad is under a lot of stress at the moment. We all are. Thorin coming back . . . well, it shocked us . . . imagine what the poor hobbit must feel at the moment. We are compensating for our shock by teasing them, but Bilbo and Thorin may not have come to terms with his return and what it means for them quite yet. There is a lot of lost time and bad blood between them."

"So we should change our ways because he's overly sensitive about the subject?" Dwalin demanded. He couldn't believe that his brother would suggest that they coddle the hobbit. They had never done it before and he had no intention of doing it now.

"That is not what I am saying at all, Brother," Balin said placing a soothing hand on Dwalin's arm. "I'm saying that we leave off with teasing him about their relationship until they have it figured out. If you remember that is why he got angry with you. It wasn't really the cheese; it was when you brought up his sexual relationship with Thorin."

"So I should just forget what he did?" Dwalin demanded loudly glaring down at his brother for even suggesting it. Had Bilbo been another dwarf they would have settled such a dispute with weapons, not words. Assaulting a guest was tantamount to declaring war—even if they did behave poorly you threw them out, you didn't start a brawl.

"Yes," Balin replied. "If he offers you an apology, take it. Explain the severity of what he did if you wish, but accept it. If for no other reason, do it because of your long friendship with him." Dwalin looked away and mumbled under his breath before he nodded curtly.

"Does this mean that we have to give up our contest involving Frodo?" Bofur asked looking like a scolded puppy. He felt horrible that he hadn't been the one to realize that something was wrong with Bilbo more than just being flustered. He should have seen that it was more than embarrassment and frustration. He should have said something to stop Dwalin before things escalated. Or he should have stopped Bilbo before he could actually land the blow.

"Heavens no!" Balin replied oblivious to the guilt that Bofur was feeling. "We just need to leave Bilbo and Thorin in peace for a bit. The lad is still fair game. But perhaps we should be on our best behavior for a couple of days until this dies down." Bofur's eyes lit with mischief at his words. Letting things die down was a good plan. . . and would serve to make it all the more unexpected when they did start back up with young Frodo.

"What do you say we start supper?" Dwalin asked. He was beginning to get hungry and figured that Bilbo and Thorin would appreciate a meal when they returned. If he was going to forgive the hobbit for his transgression he figured that he should do it properly.

ooOO88OOoo

Frodo had to admit that he was more than confused by what had just happened. Had his uncle really punched that large dwarf? Frodo wasn't sure what had gotten into Bilbo lately, but he knew that he didn't like it. Since when did his uncle faint, fly into rages and storm out on breakfast? True, his uncle had always been strange—reclusive and a bit too sad and a bit too rude for a hobbit—but this . . . was this what Bilbo had been like before Frodo had met him? Somehow he didn't think so. The dwarves had seemed just as shocked by Bilbo's actions as Frodo had.

At the thought of the dwarves, Frodo grew a little apprehensive. While he didn't think that they would harm him in any way, he could hear raised voices coming from the pantry. In the past two days there had been more raised voices in Bag End than Frodo had heard in the entire twelve years he had lived there. He halfway hoped that his uncle and Thorin would return quickly. Thorin seemed to be the only one that could rein the others in at all and from the sound of it, there was about to be another fist fight.

So when the sound of voices faded suddenly and no sound of blows followed, it took everything Frodo had not to go and see what had happened. To say that he was suspicious when the dwarves returned from the pantry carrying food and began to cook would be the understatement of the century. There was no yelling, no crude comments, nothing more than the occasional "can you pass me that." Soon the smells of a warm meal began to waft from the fireplace and Frodo felt his mouth begin to water in anticipation. He edged forward a bit to try and see what it was they were cooking, but pulled back when Dwalin turned to look at him.

The dwarf smiled sadly at him. "Don't worry lad," Dwalin said gently, "I don't bite. I'm sorry that you had to see that a bit ago. I overreacted."

"Um. . . I can't say that I would have handled that well either," Frodo said trying to be diplomatic. He didn't think he would have reacted in the same way, but no one had ever punched him in the nose either.

Dwalin laughed in response and threw an arm around the hobbit. "I'll bet your reaction would have put my rage to shame," he said. "Hobbits are ferocious creatures when provoked." Frodo looked at him skeptically. Other than Bilbo that morning, Frodo couldn't recall having ever seen a hobbit provoked to violence.

Seeing his look, Dwalin laughed again and looked at his brother and Bofur. "He doesn't believe me," Dwalin said a mock hurt tone in his voice.

"Oh, hobbits are dangerous creatures alright," Bofur replied with a laugh. Now Frodo knew they were making fun of him. No one in their right mind would ever consider hobbits dangerous. "Do you remember what happened the time that Thorin walked right up to Bilbo and informed him that he wanted him? Right in the middle of camp no less!"

"I thought Bilbo was going to kill him," Balin replied laughing. "I never knew something that small could be so menacing. I think that was the only time I ever saw Thorin cower, and I knew him as a child. Your uncle," he said turning to address Frodo—who was still being held against Dwalin's side, "grabbed the King of the Dwarves by the elbow and drug him out of camp to yell at him."

"Shouldn't have bothered," Dwalin mumbled. "With a voice as high as his, the sound carried back to us anyway. I hadn't known the hobbit knew some of those words."

"Especially the ones in Khuzdul," Bofur added. "Right vile those were! I suppose that should be a sign that we swear too much, that he picked up on those, eh?"

"Why?" Frodo asked genuinely curious. He had learned a few languages from his uncle and knew that it was the swear words that he remembered the most clearly. "Those are the words most people remember best."

"Yes," Balin agreed, "But we didn't actually teach them to him. He picked them up on his own. That is something for you to take away. Hobbits may be smaller than most other things in the world but what you lack in size you make up for in cunning. It wasn't his size that enabled Bilbo to free us from the dungeons of the Elf King, or to creep into the den of Smaug. It was his mind."

"So he really did do all of those things?" Frodo asked. When he had been a child he had believed every word that Bilbo had said. But as he had gotten older, so many of the things his uncle claimed to have done were so fantastic that there was no way they could have actually happened. You didn't play riddles with a creature intent on eating you, or trade riddles with a dragon for that matter!

"Aye," Balin replied with a fond smile.

"We would have been lost without Bilbo," Bofur replied his eyes crinkling with the force of his smile.

"And I'd have been lost without you," Bilbo said softly. They all turned to face him. They hadn't heard him come back in. He stood in front of Thorin not quite looking at them. He looked defeated and tired.

"Dwalin," Bilbo began looking up at the dwarf with sad eyes. "I am so sorry. I never should have hit you. What you said was out of line, but . . . I overreacted. I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"If you were a dwarf, the answer would be no," Dwalin replied grimly. "You have been saying that we do not respect your habits, but what you did was a great transgression on ours. We do not get into fist fights unless we intend to finish the fight in a lethal fashion." Bilbo looked down in shame. He hadn't realized what he had done was that bad. He knew that he had never seen dwarves throw punches outside of combat, but he hadn't realized that he had actually challenged Dwalin to a fight to the death.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo said desolately. "I-I didn't know. I don't want to fight you. Not really."

"And I don't want to fight you," Dwalin replied with a small smile. "That's why, since you are a hobbit and an old friend, I will forgive you this time. Please do not put me in this position again."

"I won't!" Bilbo promised vehemently. "I'm not even sure what came over me last time. I don't remember deciding to hit you at all." At that the others exchanged looks. Had they really provoked Bilbo to the point that he blacked out? They were more determined than ever to find out what was bothering their hobbit. It had to be more than just Thorin's return.

"In that case," Dwalin replied, "come join us. We were just talking about how useful you were on the adventure despite your rather rocky start."

"Aye!" Bofur replied grabbing the hobbit by the wrist and pulling him over to the table. "We all know how much you like talking about yourself." Balin shot him a warning glance. That was not treating the hobbit delicately. But rather than take offence Bilbo laughed.

"Of course I do," he said. "I have to if I want to keep up with you lot. Always trading compliments with one another and never having one for the poor, beardless hobbit."

"Oh not this again!" Bofur replied with a mock-sad head shake. "Your uncle has been bringing that back up for sixty years! I wish I had never said it!"

"Said what?" Frodo asked while Bilbo chuckled merrily and Bofur refused to answer. "What did you say?" Thorin's laugh now joined them. He remembered it clearly.

"Bofur said . . . well," Thorin paused as he tried to think of where to pick up the story, "We had just started the journey. We weren't much past Bree, were we?" He paused while the others nodded. "Anyway that is not the point. It was a few nights before we encountered the trolls and . . . well this wasn't exactly my finest moment . . . I was trying to embarrass your uncle and get him to return home. At the time, I thought that he was too soft and would die on the quest. I didn't realize how much we needed him. How much I needed him." At the last words Thorin smiled gently at Bilbo, love burning in his eyes.

"So," Thorin continued not breaking eye contact with Bilbo. "I set him to a task I figured he had no way of completing. It was a horrible day. There was rain and wind. Lighting a fire in that would have been a challenge for any of us. I knew there was no way that Bilbo could do it. I figured that the rain and misery of it all on top of the disappointment of failing would turn him home. I was wrong."

"He didn't go home when he failed?" Frodo asked knowing the answer since Bilbo had completed the quest. When it became clear that Thorin was not going to continue the story, Balin picked up the thread.

"He didn't fail," Balin said proudly. "Remember what I told you about hobbit brains?" Frodo nodded in reply. "He thought his way through it."

"But how?" Frodo asked. "If it was raining and there was wind enough that you didn't think dwarves could get a fire going how did Bilbo accomplish it?"

"Through the help of my brother," Bofur replied with a laugh. "You've never met him, but Bombur is and was exceptionally fat for a dwarf. Bilbo convinced him that it would be worth it if he would stand as a windbreak until Bilbo could get a fire going that could withstand it."

"But how did that make up for the wet wood?" Frodo knew how hard it was to light a fire in less than ideal conditions since Bilbo had insisted he learn. Why? He didn't know but he hadn't argued with him. Bilbo had spent far too much time with dwarves and their stubbornness had rubbed off on him.

"I may have helped with that," Bofur said sheepishly. Thorin looked up in surprise. He had never heard this part of the tale before. Had Bofur actually lit the fire that night?

"Now don't look at me like that," Bofur said wagging a finger at Thorin. The ex-king raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. "I didn't light it. All I did was sacrifice a bit of the ale."

"Ale doesn't burn!" Frodo insisted. He hadn't tried, but he couldn't see where it would. It was a liquid, and liquids didn't burn.

"Dwarven ale does," Bilbo insisted. "That stuff is not fit to drink, but as a fluid to light a fire . . . it is perfect." He ignored the protests of the dwarves as to the drinkability of dwarven ale and continued. "It burned just hot enough just long enough for the wood to catch. So we had a warm meal."

"But how does that—"

"After he had the fire blazing," Bofur said cutting Frodo off. "I may have said that he had done a fairly good job on it for a creature that didn't have a beard."

"No," Bilbo replied with a laugh, "Your exact words were "Not half bad, hobbit. Too bad about the fact that you can't grow a beard half as well as you light a fire," if memory serves. It was Fíli who—" Bilbo cut himself off at the memory of the laughter of Thorin's nephews. He hadn't meant to bring them up. He knew that Thorin had to miss them terribly. If anything ever happened to Frodo . . . and he wasn't even Bilbo's real nephew.

"Fíli said that you had done a better job than Kíli could," Thorin continued a sad, fond smile on his face as he remembered the way that Fíli's eyes had lit with mischief and Kíli's with anger before he had replied. "and Kíli replied that even if he couldn't light a fire at least he could grow a beard. Which set the two of them off on the fact that Kíli didn't yet have a full beard which Kíli swore he someday would. Said it would shame his brother's." He swallowed hard at the reminded that his youngest nephew had never been able to fulfill that threat. And it had been his fault. He looked up when Bilbo placed a hand on his arm. The hobbit was looking at him with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo said quietly. "I shouldn't have—"

"No," Thorin said shaking his head. "They were strong lads and good friends. There is no reason that we should not talk of them. To forget them would be to shame their memory." Bilbo nodded but said nothing. No one did for a time and the only sound in the kitchen was that of Balin stirring the food. Even though no one had declared it as such it was a moment of silence for what those they had lost on the quest to reclaim Erebor.

Eventually it was Frodo who tentatively broke the silence. "Um . . . I have a question," he said. When the only glances he got were those of curiosity rather than hostility he continued. "Why is Uncle Bilbo so reluctant to let you do the dishes?" His only reply was a chorus of laugher from the dwarves and an anxious chuckle from Bilbo.

"We'll show you later," Bofur promised with a grin that Frodo didn't like in the least. Frodo looked anxiously at Bilbo. He wouldn't let them do anything too dangerous, right?

"Just remember, Frodo my lad, you asked for this," Bilbo replied with a shrug. "The dwarves have a very . . . peculiar idea of what it means to "do the dishes"."

ooOO88OOoo

Sorry about that bit at the end . . . I have no idea why I have been so depressing lately . . . I swear I have been in a fairly good mood lately. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it despite my apparent efforts to spread misery. Hopefully I have gotten it out of my system now . . .

As always, thank you for everyone who took the time to read this chapter or to add this story to your alerts of favorites.

And a special thank you to those of you who reviewed!

Well, that's all for now folks. I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear what you think (even if you hated it or me) so leave me a review if you have the time and/or inclination.

Stickdonkeys