Lunch was an uneventful affair. The dwarves and Bilbo traded stories from the quest as Frodo listened eagerly and they all ate. It all sounded like fun to Frodo and with every story they told of a prank someone had pulled or some scrape that they had gotten out of in one piece Frodo felt his desire for an adventure like Bilbo's grow. What he didn't realize was that they were purposefully sticking to the pleasant memories. There had been enough anger and sadness in Bag End without them summoning it unnecessarily. But eventually it summoned itself.
"It sounds like you all had fun on your quest," Frodo said with a smile on his face. Thorin could see the wonder that had grown in the eyes of the younger hobbit and knew that he needed to know that adventures were not all nights spent pleasantly around a campfire or walks along gentle paths with friends. They were hard, cold, bitter things. He only wished that he could have convinced other young, eager things of the same.
"It was not all fun," Thorin said sadly. "What they haven't told you of were all the nights when we were forced to sleep in the rain. Or worse, the nights we got no sleep at all because there were enemies too near. They didn't tell you of the sleepless night we spent as the prisoners of goblins. Or of the feeling of the flames licking at our flesh as we climbed the trees to escape the wargs and goblins. They didn't tell you how it feels to know that you will die and that nothing you can do will stop it only to be saved at the last moment. They didn't tell you of the fear and uncertainty that comes from knowing that any moment can be your last, of being trapped in a cell as valuable time is lost. To watch as . . . "
"No," Thorin said shaking his head and glaring at the hobbit, though Frodo could not have known what he had done to upset the dwarf. "The quest was not fun. There were light moments, yes, but overall it was not fun." Bilbo gently placed his hand on the dwarf's clinched fist. He understood what Thorin was trying to do, but what harm was there really in letting the boy believe quests were fun. He would never have one of his own.
"I'm sorry," Thorin said looking at Frodo, who was crestfallen at what Thorin had said to him. "You had no way of knowing. I should not have been harsh with you. It's just that—"
"I understand," Frodo replied looking up at the dwarf, tears in his blue eyes. "I did a little reading while you were gone. I saw a dwarven genealogy that Bilbo had. I know what happened. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . I didn't mean to make light of your loss. I'm sorry." Thorin nodded in acceptance of Frodo's condolences while Bilbo searched for a way to break the tension. He found it in Dwalin, who had just stood with a stack of dishes that he intended to take to the sink.
"Dwalin," Bilbo called suddenly. "Catch!" Dwalin turned at his name and quickly cleared a hand to catch the plate that Bilbo frisbeed at him.
"Oh no, lad!" Balin called. "That's not how this is done! It's not a game if you warn him that it is coming first!" and without any more warning than that, Balin threw a plate at Bofur who snatched it from the air as though he had known that it was coming.
"You call that the element of surprise?" Bofur taunted Balin. "Perhaps you are getting too old for this game!"
Suddenly Balin caught a plate that had come from his brother. "Scrape that off better," Dwalin ordered. "If I'm to wash them I want them cleaner than that! Won't do to have the dishwater dirtied before its time by improper scraping. This is a sink, not a river."
"He always was a perfectionist," Balin sighed glancing at Frodo before he tossed the plate to Bilbo, who caught it with much less dexterity than the dwarves had. "You threw him that one. You clean it up," he told Bilbo before he scraped his own plate and threw it to Dwalin.
"What are they doing?" Frodo asked as Dwalin threw a wet plate to Bofur who dried it with a towel before tossing it to Thorin, who raised an eyebrow at being included but stacked it next to him all the same.
"The dishes," Bilbo answered with a laugh, throwing the now-scraped plate back to Dwalin who managed a rather spectacular catch involving a tankard that Thorin had thrown at the same time being knocked with his elbow to land on the plate Bilbo had thrown.
"But . . . is this necessary?" Frodo asked instinctively ducking a plate that flew over his head despite the fact that it was high enough it wouldn't have hit him.
"No," Bofur replied with a cheeky grin to the younger hobbit while catching a cup thrown to him by Dwalin without looking. "But it is fun."
"How do hobbits wash dishes?" Balin asked, lobbing a fork at his brother's head. He knew the answer, having watched Bilbo wash dishes methodically in the streams they encountered during the quest. Hobbits were overly careful with dishes, even when they were nearly indestructible questing dishes.
"Well," Frodo replied not realizing that it was a rhetorical question. "We tend to pass them from hand to hand, not through the air."
"Now that's no fun," Thorin said with a grin as he caught the now-dry cup from Bofur. He hadn't been included the first time and was surprised by how nice it felt to be included in things once again. Perhaps there were perks to not being a king.
"Perhaps not!" Frodo replied with a little shriek as a knife passed uncomfortably close to his nose before being caught by Dwalin. "But there is much less risk for injury."
"You only say that because you aren't participating," Bilbo said patting his nephew on the back. "Go on! Toss something to a dwarf, any dwarf." Frodo shifted uncomfortably but tossed the dinner roll that had landed on the table to Thorin, who was the closest to the bin. It was a rather pathetic toss and barely made it to the dwarf, though they were only a few feet apart.
"A roll?" Thorin asked raising an eyebrow. "You tossed me a roll? I think this was meant for you, Balin, since you are in charge of left-over food."
"Nah," Balin replied with a laugh. "He gave it to you. Perhaps it was a present. You are getting rather thin." Rather than respond, Thorin threw the roll at the white-headed dwarf's head. His lips quirked in slight disappointment when Balin caught it. But he was avenged, somewhat, when Balin—who was preoccupied with leveling a glance at Thorin—did not see the plate that Bilbo tossed him and it hit him in the forehead. He managed to catch it before it shattered on the ground, but it left a slight red mark on his forehead.
"Oh my!" Bilbo exclaimed standing to go to the dwarf he had just conked in the head with a plate. "I'm sorry! I thought you would see it!" But Balin only waved him off and threw a barrage of dishes at his brother in an attempt to get one past Dwalin, who caught them all and threw his own barrage at Bofur.
"All part of the game, laddie," Balin replied with a grin. "But we can't have you winning, now can we? A hobbit winning over dwarves, no that won't do at all."
"No," Bofur agreed as he caught all the dishes with ease despite them being wet and slippery. "We will have to increase the pace of this game if we are to beat Bilbo's record of one plate to Balin's head."
"It's a contest!?" Frodo asked edging out of the way as the tosses began to get more spectacular and the objects thrown with more speed and intensity.
"My dear boy," Bilbo said with a laugh tossing a plate at Balin and intercepting a glass that was intended for Thorin, "everything the dwarves do is a contest. Is there money on this one, lads?"
"No," Dwalin replied with a laugh of his own. "We forgot to place wagers on who would win this time."
"That's too bad," Thorin said just as he managed to peg both Dwalin and Bofur with plates. As he was the end of the chain neither of them had been expecting them to come from him. "I fear that I may be broke."
"I'm not," Bilbo replied with a smile. "You can spend the rest of your days as a kept dwarf."
"Ah, now, Bilbo, don't make promises you cannot keep," Thorin said with a smile. "Remember I was once a king. I might have rather expensive tastes."
"A king that lived as a blacksmith," Bilbo replied tossing the glass he had caught only moments before to Thorin. "You will get by on whatever I can provide. I'm sure of it. Gold goes a rather long way here in the Shire."
"That was cheating," Balin said to Bilbo. "If you aren't going to even try to hit him with it you shouldn't throw it."
"Who says I wasn't trying?" Bilbo insisted with a laugh. "Hobbits do not throw nearly as hard as dwarves."
"Tell that to my forehead," Balin grumbled before tossing the last dish to his brother. The last of the clean dishes were tossed to Bofur and then to Thorin and then it was calm in the kitchen again save for the laughter that was still in the air.
"So what is the final count?" Dwalin asked sitting down once more.
"I have one for Bilbo, and two each for Balin and Thorin," Bofur said attempting to tally it in his head. "Anyone disagree?" They all shook their heads. Those who had kept count had the same tally, and those who hadn't couldn't disagree.
"So who won?" Frodo asked peeking back out from behind the doorpost now that nothing was flying through the air.
"I did," Both Balin and Thorin said at the same time before they began to debate their positions, Balin claiming that it was more impressive that he had hit Dwalin twice while Thorin argued that it was more impressive to have hit both Dwalin and Bofur at the same time.
"I think we need a rematch," Thorin said, his eyes alight with mischief. "We can settle this after dinner."
"What?" Frodo asked. "This wasn't a one-time thing? You lot do this at every meal?"
"Not every meal, no," Bofur replied with a shrug. "Only meals that require dishes." At the look of horror on his nephew's face at the prospect of a meal that didn't require dishes Bilbo decided it was time to intervene.
"But don't worry, Frodo my lad, they will not be washing the dishes after dinner," Bilbo said with a gentle smile. Frodo sighed in relief. He wasn't sure that he could stand more flying dining utensils. "Since you didn't participate you will wash up the dinner dishes," Bilbo continued to the laughter of the rest of the company. Frodo only nodded. It seemed like a fair enough arrangement to him.
ooOO88OOoo
Once everything was safely stowed away in the cupboard, everyone settled in to spend the afternoon in peaceful pursuits. Bofur and Balin settled themselves down at Bilbo's table to begin making plans for the settlement—after borrowing a map of the Shire from Bilbo—while the rest of the group moved outside. Bilbo wanted to have his afternoon smoke in the garden and Thorin wanted to be with Bilbo, while Dwalin wanted to be outside for a bit and Frodo followed because he was fascinated by the axe that Dwalin carried to the garden with him.
"Is that really necessary?" Bilbo asked with a laugh as the large dwarf settled himself on the front stoop and began cleaning and sharpening his axe.
"Proper weapons care is always necessary," Dwalin replied with a smile. "When was the last time you even looked at your sword?"
"Well . . . that is to say . . . "Bilbo began uncomfortably. In truth he hadn't looked at the sword since he returned from his adventure, but he couldn't just tell Dwalin that.
"You have a sword?" Frodo asked. He had never seen it!
"That answers that," Dwalin laughed. "It's been more than twelve years then. Do you even know where it is?"
"Of course I know!" Bilbo replied. "It's wrapped in an oil cloth at the bottom of the chest in my bedroom. If you must know."
"And how long has it been there?" Thorin asked. He was a bit amused and a bit exasperated. He knew that Bilbo knew proper weapons care. He also knew that his little elvish blade would have suffered no harm in that time. It had survived Mahal only knew how long in a Troll Hovel. Twelve years—or even sixty—wrapped in an oilcloth would do no damage to it.
"Sixty years," Bilbo replied sheepishly. "I-I'll just go get it, shall I?" As he shuffled nervously to the door, the two dwarves in the garden began to laugh. That was more like the Bilbo they knew!
"Speaking of swords," Thorin said suddenly. "I seem to be without one. Is there a blacksmith in this town?"
"Yes," Frodo replied warily. "However I don't think he knows how to make swords. Not a lot of demand for that here. But if you needed a plow or a doorknob . . ."
"He has a forge, does he not?" Thorin asked lifting his eyebrow at the hobbit's suggestion that a plow or a doorknob was in any way a replacement for a sword.
"Yes," Frodo replied. "There's a forge. But I don't see how—"
He was cut off a Bilbo returned and dropped his sword unceremoniously into Dwalin's lap. "There," he said with a smug smile. "Check it yourself. Not a spot of rust on it." Dwalin snorted but unsheathed the sword and looked it over.
"Not bad," Dwalin replied. "Not very sharp, but not bad."
"It is more than sharp enough!" Bilbo replied with mock indignation.
"Perhaps to serve as a letter-opener," Dwalin replied. "But as a weapon . . . Frodo, come sit by me and we'll show your uncle how to properly sharpen a sword." Frodo scrambled over to sit beside Dwalin and carefully took both the sword and the whetstone and watched in awe as Dwalin showed him how to care for a sword.
"'Properly sharpen a sword' indeed!" Bilbo muttered good-naturedly as he seated himself against Thorin once more.
"It is a good skill to have," Thorin offered smiling at the way his hobbit snuggled into his side.
"Not for a hobbit," Bilbo muttered. "When will the lad ever need to sharpen a sword?" In response Thorin only shrugged. He couldn't see where Frodo would ever need the skill, but there was no harm in acquiring it anyway.
"You needed to," Thorin reminded him quietly. "And as you continually reminded us, before we came along you were an altogether normal hobbit. He will most likely be exposed to more dwarves that you were. He may need it someday."
"I sincerely hope not," Bilbo sighed as he leaned against Thorin.
"So do I," Thorin replied watching the way that Frodo smiled up at Dwalin. He knew that an adventure could take that smile from him as it had Bilbo and himself. "Speaking of things that it would be good to have even if they are never used, I would like to acquire a sword."
"Where do you intend to acquire this sword?" Bilbo asked casually. He had no objection to Thorin having a sword, but he didn't want to let him leave long enough to have one made the nearest place with a capable blacksmith would probably be Bree or more likely the Blue Mountains. "We have a blacksmith but—"
"I know," Thorin said. "Frodo told me. I intended to offer my services to work off the supplies and time that I would need. I doubt he will deny me."
"A dwarven blacksmith in the Hobbiton?" Bilbo asked with a laugh. "Of course he won't deny you! Once word spreads, his will be the busiest forge in the Shire."
"I thought as much," Thorin replied with a smile. "Dwarven smiths were very much in demand sixty years ago. I made a decent living at it. Can you show me where it is?"
"Of course," Bilbo replied standing and offering the dwarf his hand with a smile. "I've always wanted to know how swords are made."
"If he lets us in it will be unbearably hot in the forge," Thorin warned. "Blacksmith work is not a comfortable trade."
"I would still watch, if you will allow me to," Bilbo said with a nervous grin. "I know that dwarves keep their secrets closely guarded. If you would prefer that I remain here. . . "
"My dear hobbit," Thorin replied pulling him into a hug. "I would keep no secrets from you." Bilbo felt a smile split his face as he stood on his toes to brush his lips against Thorin's. He sighed as Thorin bent and deepened the kiss.
"Must you do that here?" Dwalin asked with a laugh. "There are rooms just inside that would offer you privacy. The lad and I just ate." Bilbo didn't pause in his kissing but made a rather obscene hand gesture in Dwalin's general direction that he had learned from Bofur. Dwalin laughed, both at the gesture and the color that Frodo's face had taken on.
"Let's have mercy on the lad," Thorin whispered against Bilbo's lips. "At least let him get used to the idea first."
"If we must," Bilbo replied breaking the kiss but not releasing the dwarf. Dwalin had a smirk on his face and Frodo was decidedly green. "Sorry," Bilbo offered sheepishly. He hadn't thought about how Frodo would feel about seeing the two of them expressing their affection.
"We have an errand we need to run," Thorin announced. "We will return when we can." It was everything that Dwalin could do to resist the urge to make a snide comment about what that errand might be, but he did manage to resist it.
"We'll be here," he said instead. "And your house will be in one piece."
"It had better," Bilbo replied with a mock glare.
"Where are you going?" Frodo asked, feeling mildly alarmed at being left alone for an indeterminate amount of time with the dwarves. They were nice enough, but he wasn't sure that he could keep them from destroying the house if it came down to it.
"Don't worry about it," Bilbo replied. "We'll be back."
"But—" Dwalin leaned down and whispered something in Frodo's ear that caused his eyes to go wide before he gave a small squeak and they fluttered as he passed out. Thorin leveled a glare at the warrior.
"What?" Dwalin asked with a shrug. "I only told him what you might be going to do involved swords. It's not my fault if he took it the wrong way." Thorin didn't look convinced, but Bilbo wasn't offended or angry so he let it go and allowed Bilbo to lead him down the path back into town.
Once they were gone, Dwalin stood and poked his head in the door. "Mark me down for one more," he called to his brother and Bofur. "I pulled it off again. And I should actually get two; I did it right under Bilbo and Thorin's noses without angering either of them!"
"Only good for one," Bofur replied absently. "Only one hobbit fainted. Kudos on the other part though."
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There we are all, a new chapter. Sorry about the lateness of this. I've been sick lately and fever writing tends to be weird. . . I blame some of this on that. I hope you enjoyed it
As always, thank you for taking the time to read this and thank you to those of you who have taken the time to add this story to your alerts or 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 know what you think (even if you hated it) so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined.
Stickdonkeys