Chapter Text
Alone in the wind and the rain you left me
It's getting dark darling, too dark to see
And I'm on my knees, and your faith in shreds, it seems
Bilbo quickly rounded the corner of the simial and headed in the direction he knew he would find Frodo. Forcefully, he pushed aside all of his own fear, panic, insecurities, and disbelief focusing solely on how he could help the young hobbit. It would have been so easy to fall apart at the moment, to let his mind take him back and drown in all of the hurt from the years before regarding his guests but he wouldn't do that; he couldn't do that. Parents didn't have the liberty of putting their problems before their child's, and that's what Bilbo was now, a parent.
Never in his life, even before he became known as 'mad', did he think that he would have children in any shape or form. The first reason being he preferred men to women, not that he didn't appreciate a pretty hobbit lass but over all he just couldn't picture himself raising a child. Though he had never thought he would find himself the hired burglar of thirteen very rowdy dwarves either. He could only hope he wouldn't mange to completely fail Frodo with his parenting as he had the dwarves on their quest.
Bilbo walked slowly, dragging out the ten minute walk into something closer to twenty. Blocking out the static noise that would drag him into a ball of nerves and angst, only allowing the feeling of the tall grass that brushed gently against his legs, still warm from the evening sun to register in his mind. As the incline of the ground beneath him increased Bilbo cast his eyes towards the sky drinking in the bright pinks, oranges, and yellow hues of the tail end of the sunset.
Not far from him sat Frodo, on the crest of the tallest hill in the Shire, in a spot Bilbo had sat countless times in his life. In fact it was the very spot he had been drawn to as a child when he needed space from the busy life of Hobbition, was trying to avoid his parents after some silly stunt he and his Took cousin pulled, or just needed a quiet spot to think and dream about what his life would be like in the future.
More recently, since after his return from Erebor, he used it as a place to lock away his heartbreak and sometimes if he was feeling brave he would let his mind drift back over his memories of the quest with a fond eye bypassing the hurtful parts. He would lay back in the grass and picture Thorin, the Thorin he fell head over heels madly in love with and hope that he and the rest of the company had found peace, had found happiness in their home.
Where before this had just been his spot, he now happily shared it with Frodo. On one of their bad nights, when both hobbits woke screaming from the terrors their dreams held, Bilbo pulled Frodo close to his chest and cried as his night shirt became drenched in the young hobbits tears. He remembered feeling helpless, like the walls of Bag End were closing in around them to swallow them whole. He had needed out, out in the open air so he gathered Frodo bundled him up warmly, packed a small bag full of food and blankets and went out into the night.
Other hobbits would be horrified to know how the young Frodo and Bilbo had journeyed out of their hobbit hole at such an hour but Bilbo was no longer and ordinary hobbit. The Shire was safe, no wolves had been seen since the cursed Fell Winter and he had brought along Sting just as a precaution. The night was warm and the sky clear leaving both Hobbits happy and comfortable as they snuggled themselves into the blankets Bilbo had packed.
They stayed awake long into the night, Frodo sitting pressed back again his Uncle's chest, gazing at the stars that shined bright above their heads as Bilbo pointed out and explained some of the easier constellations. As the sky began to brighten both hobbits drifted of to sleep comfortably curled around one another in a happy embrace, neither waking before noon and both feeling much better when they did. After that night Bilbo's spot had become theirs and they had spent many more nights stretched out on blankets staring at the stars.
Frodo gave no sign that he heard Bilbo approach, nor moved and inch when Bilbo sat down gently beside him. Neither hobbit spoke and in a move that looked practiced they both laid back in the grass stretching their legs out in front of them with both arms crossed behind their heads. Though Bilbo had not missed how tense his nephew was, nor the faint lines of tears that marred his cheeks he knew to give Frodo time to collect himself.
Time passed slowly and quickly at once as it seems to when one gets lost in their thoughts. By the time Frodo moved, shifting his body ever so slightly towards his uncle, the stars were shinning bright over their heads.
Untangling one of his hands from behind his head Bilbo pointed up at a cluster of six stars off to their right
"Soronúmë" he spoke softly.
"Falling Eagle," Frodo answered back without missing a beat before pointing his own finger towards a group of five stars over the left of Bilbo's shoulder, "Wilwarin. "
"Butterfly," Bilbo's answered back easily falling into their usual game.
The pair went back and forth for a few more turns before Frodo let out a long sigh falling into silence once more. Bilbo waited patiently, he knew Frodo was working himself up to speak and didn't want to pressure him before he was ready. Though some of the tension had left his young faunt's shoulders Bilbo knew the boy was a swirling ball of emotions at the moment. As he expected no more than five minutes later Frodo spoke.
"I'm so sorry uncle." Frodo offered his voice small and sad.
When Bilbo remained quiet Frodo pressed on, "I just can't believe the nerve of them." he started his tone rising to that of disbelief. "I can't believe how self centered they are just showing up here unannounced, expecting you to welcome them with open arms after everything they did to you."
"It's ridiculous!" Frodo finished incredulously.
Bilbo huffed out a small bitter laugh at his nephew's words, "If I have learned one thing about dwarves my lad, it's that more often than not they tend to be quite ridiculous." he finished with a small smirk barely visible in the dark.
"How can you do it?" Ford asked turning his face towards his uncle, "How can you stand the sight of them?" he pressed unable to understand why his uncle would even want to stay in the same room as those dwarves let alone allow them to stay in their home.
"They were my friends for a time, for my part." Bilbo started, turning his head to look back at the stars again. "I cared for them, still do in my own way. I never wanted any harm to come to them you know that." he finished his chest tight as his own words.
"Yet they didn't care if it came to you at their own hands! I know they hurt you uncle I've seen the look in your eyes." Frodo spat, his anger from before beginning to burn under his skin.
"They did." Bilbo responded simply, in a tone that was far too accepting and far too calm for Fordo's liking.
"Then why?" the young hobbit questioned baffled.
"Because I refuse to let it hurt me anymore." Bilbo whispered as if it were a confession.
"I am happy in my life Frodo and I will not let my pain or past take that away from me. If I refused them or sent them away it would just prove that their actions and the hurt I felt still dominated my life which they don't. " he spoke, his voice gaining more confidence and surety with each word.
"I've moved on and a small bitter part of me wants them to see that." he finished turning his head to look at his nephew.
"I still don't like them." Frodo grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest all while scrunching up his nose in distaste, his expression stuck between disgust and a pout.
"I'm not asking you too. All I'm asking is for you to act like the amazing young hobbit I know of and love." Bilbo answered lightly patting Frodo's forearm.
The two fell quite once again and Bilbo could of sworn he could hear the wheels turning in Frodo's head.
"Do you ever think what your life would have been like if you'd stayed...if they hadn't banished you?" Frodo asked sheepishly, voicing a question he had always wanted to ask but feared it's answer. He had always secretly wondered if his uncle would have been happier if he had been able to stay with the dwarves. If he had been able to stay amoung those he loved rather than returning to the Shire only to be saddled with a child not his own.
"Many times." Bilbo told him honestly his voice taking on a dream like quality.
Frodo tried to keep his face from falling at his uncle's words, hoping the night would hide the hurt he knew he wouldn't be able to truly keep from his face.
"But every time I do all I can think about is how much I would have lost if I hadn't left." Bilbo continued on pulling himself up into a sitting position and turning his body so he could fully face Frodo.
"What?" Frodo breathed in disbelief.
"If I hadn't come back to the Shire I never would have had the chance to adopt you, and you my boy, are the best thing that have ever happened to me, I can promise you that." Bilbo vowed meaning every word from the bottom of his heart as he would to the end of his days.
He had lost a great love when he walked away from the Lonely Mountain but he had gained a greater one on his return to the Shire. For there was no stronger love in all of Middle Earth than that of the love between parent and child. Bilbo would gladly go through all of the pain he felt a hundred times over if it meant he could have Frodo in his life.
"I love you Uncle Bilbo." Frodo choked out, his voice breaking on the words as he sat up to fling himself into his uncle's arms.
"I love you too Frodo." Bilbo murmured into Frodo's curls holding the lad tight to him.
"Now what do you say we go cook supper for a house full of dwarves and show them just how happy we are?" He smirked pulling away to look mischievously into his nephew's eyes.
"I know just what we should cook. Vegetarian stew....extra kale and spinach." Frodo stated his eyes full of mirth and trouble.
Bilbo rose quickly to his feet pulling Frodo up with him, laughing loudly before throwing an arm around his nephew who immediately wrapped his arm around his uncle's waist. "That's the Baggins spirit!" Bilbo crowed clapping Frodo on the back turning them both towards the path that would lead them home
Though their home was filled with dwarves, dwarves neither were very sure of at the moment it was still their home. Bag End was their sanctuary, their home turf. They would be fine. As they had done since that first day Frodo came came to Bag End they would hold each other together and maybe just have a little bit of harmless fun at their guests expense while they were at it.