Now the sun had set, it was only a matter of time before the other Dwarves would show up. Bilbo was brimming with excitement at the thought of them all together again. Bilbo took little Frodo into the pantry and began setting aside things for breakfast the following morning. Bilbo knew he would need to do this, or there would be thirteen hungry Dwarves at Bag-End the next morning.

"Are you excited Frodo?" Bilbo asked, accepting the basket of eggs from Frodo.

"Yes Uncle. I am! Do you think we'll have a food fight tonight?" Frodo asked.

Bilbo stopped and turned to his nephew, "Now Frodo, I'm not sure if we will. But I don't want you starting and/or participating in any of that. You understand?"

"But what if they do start? Then can I join?" Frodo questioned again.

"…Well…I… maybe!" Bilbo said turning back to his work, "But to be honest, if Thorin shows up with the rest of them, I don't think there will be a food fight."

"Why not? Is he to Kingly for a food fight?"

"Well, I don't think a King that still got into food fights would be highly respected by his people. That would just be silly!" Bilbo laughed. But Frodo didn't laugh back.

'What if Thorin doesn't like me cause I'm just a little kid?' Frodo thought to himself, 'What if he is to Kingly to talk to me? I really hope he likes me!'

"Come on Frodo, be useful." Bilbo called out to his nephew. "Now be a good lad and bring that chicken to the kitchen and I'll cook it up." Bilbo nodded towards a sack on the lower shelf and then walked out of the pantry with other raw meat in his arms.

Frodo quickly went and tried to pick up the raw chicken in the sack. Frodo went to get underneath it, but it was far to heavy for such a little Hobbit like himself. "How big was this thing? It must weigh as much as one of the Proudfeet's ol' turkeys!" He tried to pick it up again, but only lifted it slightly before it fell back down on his fingers. Poor Frodo held back his pained scream and he pulled his squished fingers out from underneath the bird.

One would think he would go tell his Uncle that it was to heavy for him, or get one of the strong Dwarves to help him. But this is Frodo Baggins, and he was determined to do this by himself. He would be strong, just like the great Thorin Oakensheild!...or he would at least try to be.

Little Frodo grabbed the top of the sack and pulled on it with all his strength. After a little while of pulling, he managed to get it off the shelf and it thumped onto the floor. He pulled on it again, dragging it slowly across the floor. Slowly he made it out of the pantry, and out to the hall. When he got out into the hall, he looked it up and down to make sure no Dwarves were around to see what he was doing. When he thought the coast was clear, he grabbed the bag again and started pulling. He pulled the bird into the dinning room across from the pantry. Then he would make a B-line to the kitchen.

Halfway through the dinning room, the sack caught on a floor board and wouldn't move anymore. So Frodo pulled harder on the bag. But still, it didn't budge. So he tried pulling harder. But it still refused to move.

"Come on ya stupid chicken!" Frodo said in a grunted whisper. Now he was pulling against it with all his weight.

Then, as Frodo was pulling as hard as he could, the top of the bag ripped clean off, sending Frodo flying back. When Frodo fell, he fell against one of the legs of the table, knocking the air out of him. He was glad it did though, he didn't want to cry in front of the Dwarves.

Frodo sat against the leg of the table for a while, just starring at the bag that was seemingly impossible to move any farther. Just then, two huge boots walked behind the bag he was starring at. Frodo looked up to see a Dwarf with a bright red beard looking down at him and the bag.

" Do ya need some help, laddie?" the Dwarf, Gloin, asked. Frodo, admitting defeat against the chicken, nodded his head in reply. Gloin bent down and picked up the bird, and even he grunted at the weight of it. "Its as heavy as a turkey, ain't it?" Again Frodo nodded in reply. Both of them walked into the kitchen were Bilbo, and some other Dwarf were cooking all the meat he had taken out earlier.

"There you are. What took you so long?" Bilbo asked Frodo.

"Well ya did send him to fetch the heaviest chicken I've ever held." Gloin said in Frodo's defense.

"What? It was a small little thing." Then Bilbo looked into the sack that Gloin had happily set down. Then Bilbo laughed at what he saw. "Why my dear Frodo! You brought out the turkey ol' Proudfoot got me. That's why it was so heavy!" everyone around laughed, including Frodo.

"Well then I guess we're having turkey, cause I'm not going back for the dang chicken!" Frodo said, slightly annoyed, but also to make everyone laugh even more. And it worked. He had everyone clutching their stomachs for air.

A little while later, Frodo sat in the kitchen. He would get whatever ingredient his Uncle and Oin would call for. But right now he sat inspecting the two newest Dwarves to the party. 'Mister Gloin,' Frodo thought, 'looks very strong. I think Uncle said he was the banker of the Company. Why would they need a banker though? Weren't they just going to reclaim their Mountain?' Then Frodo thought about the contract his Uncle had signed nine years ago. He had probably read the thing a dozen times over. He remembered they all would get fourteen percent if the job was done. 'He was probably there to get their fourteen percent straight, and make sure it wasn't fifteen.'

Then Frodo looked at the other Dwarf that was cooking with his Uncle, 'Wasn't Mister Oin the chemist of the group? I do hope he isn't putting any medicine into my food.' Frodo cringed at the thought of medicine. It was the worst to take. Uncle Bilbo always made him take some if he was showing any signs of a sickness. Spoonful of nothing but evil! 'I guess a chemist would be very helpful to have on a quest.

'Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things' Frodo smiled, 'Make ya late for dinner!' He had heard his Uncle tell him that countless times. Mostly because Frodo would ask to go on adventures a lot.

But again, he was brought out of his thoughts by Oin calling him for some ingredient needed to make their very large turkey, taste perfect.

….

I'm really enjoying writing this, so I hope you guys are really enjoying reading it! I would only think that Frodo would really want to go on some adventures when he would hear his Uncle talk about his story. I know I would! So let me know what you think of my story in the reviews. Thanks, BYIE!