Chapter Text
Spare me your judgments and spare me your dreams.
Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams.
I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind.
Smoke, blood, death and decay filled the air. Cries of anguish could be heard drifting on the frigid wind loud and clear. Families, friends, children, parents ripped away from one another by greed. Dwarves, men, and elves were no strangers to the the blazing heat of battle nor the crippling after math. Hobbits however were gentle creatures with no real knowledge of the cost of war beyond what they heard from those who were traveling past their little slice of heaven.
Bilbo Baggins found himself sitting on a half broken down apple crate in the camp of men. Bruised, battered, bleeding, and utterly exhausted he tucked himself away out of sight trying very hard not to break down right then and there. He pushed aside thoughts of strong fingers gripping his neck, bodies cut down by snarling orcs, and the gruesome injuries his friends, no not his friends anymore, the company; injuries the company received. Instead he thought of wild flowers and sunshine, a party tree and an arm chair. Bilbo Baggins thought of the Shire and everything in it.
Minutes or hours later, he would never be sure, he saw tell tale grey robes swish into his view. Gandalf smiled sadly at his hobbit friend wishing he could have spared him the heart ache that was clearly written on Bilbo's face. He blamed himself, it had been him who pushed the hobbit to run out his door and what did Bilbo get for it?
The hobbit raised his misty eyes and Gandalf felt his guilt double, oh if he had known what was to come he would have left Bilbo Baggins alone in his hobbit hole.
"Are they?" the hobbit choked out, biting his lip hard as he glanced away.
"They are badly injured but I believe they will live, if they fight for it."
Bilbo gave no answer aside from a slight nod of his head and the streak of tears that fell from his eyes. He was glad to hear his friends- no the royal family had not passed from this world. He had no doubt Durin's sons would fight for their lives, they were the most stubborn beings Bilbo had ever met. In truth they were probably the most stubborn beings in all of Adra.
Gandalf saw the quick flashes of emotion drift over his friend's face and placed a gentle steadying hand on his slightly shaking shoulder.
"What do you wish to do my friend?" he asked, knowing he would support the hobbit in whatever decision he made.
Bilbo sat silently for a moment, then for a few more as he thought over all of his options.
"I want to go home." he answered quietly his voice thick with tears, "I want to go back to the Shire."
"Then that is what we will do." the wizard answered, pulling Bilbo to his feet and leading him silently to a healers tent.
Six hours later Bilbo found himself astride the back of a pony with Gandalf riding beside him. His heart, which he had thought was already broken beyond repair, finished shattering into pieces so small they could never be put back together.
No goodbyes had left his lips, no former companions had been seen, and no letters of farewell had been passed along to those he had called his friends. It was better this way he assured himself. They wanted him gone. As the sun sank under the horizon Bilbo Baggins left behind the Lonely Mountain and everyone in it.
It was a sad, lonely, broken Bilbo who returned to Bag End. Walking the halls of his home as if he were a spirit trapped with in its walls. Nothing was as it was before. He was a fool to assume something as simple as a location could ease the jagged hole in his chest. He went about his daily business as a husk of himself. He smiled when expected, hosted second breakfast and tea when visitors came to call, and answered questions as politely as possible all while he was screaming on the inside.
What use was all of this nonsense?
Gandalf visited once, three months after Bilbo had returned to Bag End, vocalizing his concern for his friend. His words fell on deaf ears and Bilbo pushed on content in his misery knowing it would be his life from now on. Fate however had a very different idea in store for Bilbo Baggins and it all began with a terrible accident.
Six months after his return tragedy struck the Shire. Two of its most loved Hobbits were snatched away from the world forever. The storm that took the lives of Drogo and Primula came out of no where. One moment the sky's were blue, sun shining bright on the fields below; the next dark clouds blanketed the sky as icy rain and vicious gusts sliced through the air like a knife. The small boat that carried them towards the safety of shore gave way under the barrage of wind sending both Hobbits into the water never to been seen again.
All of Hobbiton wept at the news that two such lively, happy, kind, and caring souls were ripped from this world but none cried harder or felt the loss more than their son, Frodo Baggins.
The moment Bilbo heard poor Frodo had been placed in the home of none other than Lobelia Sackville-Baggins he saw red. It only took him five minutes to storm his way down the dirt path right to her door. Ignoring her squawks of outrage Bilbo knelt down before a crying Frodo offering him the option to come home with him.
Bilbo had always been Frodo's favorite uncle even before he ran out his door after a group of dwarves. After his adventures Primula and Drogo were two of the few hobbits who we're sincerely happy Bilbo had returned and was not in fact dead on the side of the road somewhere.
As Bilbo expected it didn't take long for Lobelia to fight Bilbo's right to adopt Frodo. Everyone knew the only reason she was interested in Frodo was because of his decent size inheritance and had nothing to do with wanting to help the poor boy who had just lost not one but both of his parents. Bilbo informed everyone gathered at the official custody hearing, which was most of Hobbiton, nosy the whole lot of them, that he would die before he saw Frodo in the hands of such a greedy troll whose heart was more rotten then a band of goblins.
Gasps were heard, faces turned red, as many hobbits sputtered in disbelief but Bilbo had no time nor patience to care. Even though most hobbits avoided him and thought him mad after his return Bilbo was still the head of the Bagging family and with that title came a fair amount of privilege and power. With more reluctance than was warranted the Thrain not only granted custody of Frodo to Bilbo but also awarded him the right to adopt him should the lad agree with in a years time.
Satisfied Bilbo returned to his quiet hobbit whole and hugged his nephew with every ounce of love and heartache in him, promising that he would find a way to make the lad smile again the way he once had. Bilbo had no more time to grieve over the haunting events of the past, nor regret love lost before it had even been spoken. No, Bilbo Baggins had a new mission in life so his tears of grief were pushed down only allowed to slip past his defenses at night, when Frodo was safely tucked in bed and Bilbo's nightmares became to much.
Four years passed since that terrible day he stood surrounded by corpses in the shadow of a mountain. Though it had taken some time and effort both Frodo and Bilbo settled in, happy with their life. Their relationship had blossomed from one of a favorite uncle and nephew to one of father and son which pleased them both. There would always be bad days, days where one of both got lost in their melancholy thoughts but the other was always there to pull them back with a warm embrace and a smile.
The sun was shining brightly it's warm light filling the kitchen with a homey glow as Bilbo and Frodo worked happily side by side. They had decided the night before, due to a hidden blackberry bush they came across in the forest, that tarts were in order. The pair bantered easily back and forth in their usual display of wit and humor others found quite odd while Bilbo prepared the dough leaving the mashing of the juicy fruit to Frodo. Bilbo's towel connected with the hand Frodo was using to sneak berries to his eagerly waiting mouth, an action that sent both Hobbits into a fit of giggles, when a loud knock sounded on the door.
"I wonder who that would be?" Bilbo hummed turning his attention to his flour covered hands and shirt.
"I'll get it uncle, you look atrocious and are unfit for pleasant company." Frodo teased already making his way out of the kitchen.
"Just for that I hope it's Lobelia!" Bilbo called not bothering to hide his laughter at Frodo's look of pure horror.
"Please don't be Lobelia, please don't be Lobelia." Frodo muttered to himself as he made his way to the door.
With a small smirk at his own ridiculousness Frodo swung open the door with a smile only to freeze at the sight before him. There on the step of Bag End stood thirteen dwarves.
"I wish it'd been Lobelia." was the only greeting Frodoo offered before promptly shutting the door in their faces.
Those were not thirteen random dwarves coming to call on Bag End. No, though they had never met Frodo would be able to recognize the dwarves of the company anywhere. He had grown up on stories of Bilbo's adventures, they were one of the things that helped him get over his parents death. He used to sit eagerly on the floor next to his uncle's knee or sleepily pressed against his side listening to the epic tales Bilbo would weave. His favorites were always the ones that centered around Bilbo, who Frodo believed to be the true hero of the story. Even if Bilbo maintained the argument that he was in fact quite useless to the whole endeavor.
Frodo heard the truth in the stories themselves. His uncle had been anything but useless on that quest and no matter how many times he sung the praises of the thirteen dwarves he traveled with Frodo couldn't think of then as anything but rude, over bearing, stubburn, pig headed cowards.
At first he had been delighted by the fun loving brothers Kili and Fili and starry eyed over the strong majestic Thorin Oakenshield. He'd spent many a day running through the fields around Bag End pretending he was one of the company fighting invisible orcs, goblins, and wargs. Time passed and as he grew older Frodo began to notice the lack of ending in the tale. One night he pressed Bilbo for details, begged him to trust him with the truth and after a week of relentless hounding Bilbo gave in.
It was then when Frodo heard of the Arkenstone. That was the night Frodo's view of the dwarves changed. Bilbo tried to gloss over the way they treated him but Frodo had not missed the flashes of pain that etched their way onto his uncles face, it had taken days for them to disappear. Bilbo insisted that it was his actions that ruined the bond between him and his companions, that they were fully justified in wishing to never see him again but Frodo was not content. He let the matter drop not wishing to cause his uncle anymore grief and waited.
That summer they had a very welcome visitor at Bag End by the name of Gandalf the Grey. Frodo was glad to see his uncle's old friend and one night when Bilbo was busy with his ledgers Frodo asked the old man for the truth. It was surprisingly easy to convince Gandalf to share the horror that befell his uncle, apparently the wizard thought it was time for someone besides himself to take Biblo's side on the matter. Even though to this day his uncle insisted there were no sides.
That night as he lay in bed Frodo cried for his uncle. Gandalf had revealed how strong of a bond his uncle had formed with the dwarves before they had reached the mountain. He pictured his uncle surrounded by those he loved watching as they slowly gave in to the allure of gold twisting them until the only thing recognizable was their faces. He cried at the thought of what might had been if Gandalf had not arrived in time. His uncle, his beloved uncle almost died, tossed from the battlements like trash over a nothing more than a rock. Tears swiftly turned to anger and Frodo burned with it. His only relief was knowing those stupid dwarves would never come and bother his uncle again.
However, it seemed that Frodo had been wrong about that fact if his eyes were to be believed. He wouldn't let them near his uncle. Whatever reason brought them to Bag End could not be a good one. If they thought they could show up and drag his uncle back to that cursed mountain for a crime that was in fact not a crime at all they had another thing coming.
Just when Frodo had thought that they might have left and breathed a sigh of relief another loud knock sounded on the door.
"Frodo, what's going on out there?" Bilbo called from the kitchen.
"Nothing!" Frodo called back hoping his didn't sound as filed with panic as he was.
Stealing his breath and schooling his features into a twisted glare of dislike Frodo opened the door for a second time.
"Can I help you?" he asked his tone sharp letting the dwarves know he wanted to do anything but help them.
A few of the dwarves shuffled uncomfortably and a spark of triumph filled Frodo at the sight.
"We are looking for a Master Baggins, is he in?" asked a young blonde haired dwarf. Fili, his mind supplied and the dark haired dwarf bouncing next to must be his brother Kili.
"Fortunately, he is not in nor do I know when he will return but I can promise you that even if he were he would not wish to be bothered he the likes of you." he hissed his eyes narrowing as he took in the shocked faces of the dwarves in front of him.
Had they honestly expected a warm welcome?
"Perhaps you are confused lad." spoke a large red haired dwarf, "We are the company of Thorin Oakenshield we traveled with your uncle in the past."
"I know who you are Gloin son of Groin." Frodo snapped pleased once again at the looks of shock on the dwarves faces.
"Then you know we are old friends." supplied a brown haired dwarf with a stupid hat which could only mean it was Bofur.
"Acquaintances, if I understand correctly." Frodo snipped back surprised at the amount of venom he held in his body for these dwarves but he knew they deserved even ounce of it and more.
"My previous statement stands he is not home and even if he were you would not be welcome. We have a very strict no dwarf policy at Bag End so find another doorway to darken. Good Day!" he finished his chest heaving as he slammed the door once again so hard he felt the floor beneath his feet shake.
"Frodo for the love of Yavanna what is going on out here?" Bilbo questioned turned the corner as he wiped his still flour covered hands on his apron.
Frodo froze his eyes wide the last thing he wanted was for his uncle to find out just who was on the opposite side of their door.
"Nothing! It's just Merry being well, you know, Merry." Frodo rushed hoping his face would not give everything away, he was terrible at lying to his uncle. The pair of them lived with a complete honesty rule between them.
Bilbo narrowed his eyes slightly walking forward another step.
"Merry." he stated his voice slightly amused.
"Yep." Frodo answered popping the p sound. "Why don't we just head back into the kitchen." Frodo suggested linking his arm with Bilbo's turning him away from the door.
Bilbo chuckled to himself as his nephew tried to lead him away from whatever was going on but he had been a lad himself once upon a time and was no stranger to the art of diversion. Turning quickly he unlatched his nephews arm from his and headed for the door.
"Uncle no!" Frodo cried rushing infornt of Bilbo throwing himself against the door.
"Fordo what..." Bilbo breathed confused by the young hobbit's reaction.
"You can't open the door." Frodo's voice taking on a frantic edge.
"And why not?" Bilbo questioned raising his brow tapping his foot in the universal sign of parental annoyance.
"Because...because...ugh..." Frodo stuttered and Bilbo huffed reaching around his nephew for the door handle.
"What ever is going on I'm sure it will be fine." Bilbo soothed but Frodo refused to budge.
Just then another knock sounded on the door and Frodo noticed it sounded almost timid.
Why couldn't those stupid dwarves take a hint and leave?
"Uncle I'm begging you not to open the door." the young hobbit pleaded.
"Frodo move." Bilbo ordered sharply his nerves raising to a new high at the worry in his nephews voice.
Reluctantly, Frodo stepped aside allowing Bilbo to pull the door open to view just who was causing all of the commotion. He gasped as he saw thirteen familiar faces he had never thought to see again peering sheepishly at him from his front step. Biblo's mind went absolutely blank at the sight and had he been a weaker hobbit he would have fainted. He however was far beyond the days of fainting spells remaining on his feet to gape at his visitors like a fish out of water.
No one moved and no one spoke as the awkwardness continued to build. Finally, Balin the ever cool diplomatic dwarf broke the silence.
"If it wouldn't be to much trouble lad we'd very much like to come in." he spoke softly his eyes unsure of their welcome.
Balin's words brought Bilbo back to himself and he silently stepped back opening the door wide enough to admit his group of guests. One by one the dwarves shuffled in all of them with down cast eyes and somber expressions. Bilbo ushered them into the large sitting room they had taken over during their last visit to Bag End all those years ago.
When the last member of the company had entered the room Frodo came to stand next to his uncle, his hands clenched at his sides. At once everyone's eyes seemed to lock on the smaller hobbit who leaned ever slightly into his uncles side uncomfortable under their gaze. Bilbo turned his head sharply the moment he felt Frodo brush his shoulder and reached out an arm placing it gently on his nephews elbow. Weather the familiar touch was to steady young Frodo or himself he wasn't sure.
"Where are my manners," Bilbo started, fighting the blush that was creeping up his neck. "This is my nephew Frodo," he said turning to gesture to his scowling nephew, "and these are my frie- the dwarves I've told you about." he finished lamely wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He had never felt so uncomfortable in his own home, not even the first night the dwarves barged in.
"At your service." The dwarves said as one each bow low in their customary greeting. Frodo gave no reply to their greeting nor looked them in the eye instead closing to attempt to count the wood grains on the large beam above his head.
"Make yourselves comfortable, I'll just go get everyone some refeshments." Bilbo coughed cursing his heavy tongue.
"Not too comfortable." Frodo muttered quietly but loud enough to be heard be the dwarves closest to him. All of which sent him confused glances out of the side of their eyes.
"Frodo why don't you come help me." Bilbo called popping his head around the corner as if he suddenly realized leaving his fourteen year old nephew in a room full of dwarves may not have been the best idea.
Far sooner than Bilbo was ready the tea was done and both he and Frodo were carrying it and a some of the left over cakes into the sitting room filled with dwarves. His nerves were shot and no matter how he tried he couldn't stop the shaking in his hands. The company was here, in Bag End and he had no idea why. He had not received and single shred of communication from any of the thirteen dwarves present since he had left the mountain nor had he sent one to them. He had assumed any attempt of contact from him would be immediately thrown into the fire with out being read. Not even in his wildest dreams did he picture the events currently unfolding.
"Thank you." Ori offered quietly as Bilbo handed him his cup of tea.
Bilbo attempted to smile back at the dwarf but felt his face freeze half way between a smile and a frown.
"What brings you to the Shire?" he asked no one in particular hoping the 'what in Yavanna's name are you doing at my house' went unheard.
"We have business in Ered Luin and found that our path led us right past the Shire." Dwalin answered gruff shoving another cake in his mouth.
"Oh well I hope the weather will hold off for the rest of your journey." Bilbo responded politely. "It's been a rather wet season so far, rain every other day or so. Great for the garden not so much for traveling." he chuckled awkwardly still at a complete loss at how to behave.
Silence once again filled the room as Bilbo looked to his nephew who was glaring daggers at the back of Thorin's head.
"We got caught in a storm not two days ago just like that terrible one on our way to the mountain." Bofur laughed, "I swear I'm still damp from the down pour." he added hoping to break the tension in the room not missing the way Bilbo's mouth set at the mention of their quest.
After that Bilbo and the dwarves exchanged small talk no one quite sure how to move the conversation in to something less strained. Kili and Fili recounted their very brief stay and Beorn's passing along the shapeshifter 's well wishes for the hobbit bringing the first real smile to Bilbo's face. He had always like the large bear man even if he did insist on calling Bilbo 'Little Bunny' rather than his name.
The conversation turned the company's current traveling plans when Bilbo asked them what inn they were planning on using once they left the Shire. The hobbit quickly scanned the face's of the company, all but Thorin, who he still couldn't bring himself to look at, as the room filled with the most awkward silence yet.
The dwarves looked back and forth between each other uncomfortably as all of the shifted in their seats. Eventually, everyone's eyes settled on Balin who was staring pointedly at his king who had disappeared behind his thick curtain of hair. With an exasperated sigh the old dwarf turned to Bilbo with a small smile.
"Actually lad, we were hoping to stay here with you for a few nights." he confessed his eyes open and warm, "If it wouldn't be too much trouble." he finished repeating his words at the door.
Bilbo was stunned. They wanted to stay here. In his home. With him. Was he dream? Certainly that had to be the only explanation for everything that was happening around him. Either that or he had finally lost his mind and was hallucinating all of this. Out of the two he would rather it be a dream poor Frodo didn't deserve for him to actually become the 'Mad Baggins'.
"Of-of course." Bilbo stuttered still trying to determine his mental state.
"You have got to be kidding me." Frodo scoffed from his place in the doorway.
"Your all more than welcome here as long as you wish." Bilbo added sending Frodo a look out of the corner of his eye.
The dwarves all smiled brightly at Bilbo'so words and the hobbit felt a rush of warmth in his chest at their expressions.
"Thank you Master Bogins." Kili grinned bowing his head slightly towards Bilbo.
"It's Bagins, with an A." Frodo snapped harshly. "You think after traveling half way across Middle Earth together you would have at least had the decency to learn his name." he finished stepping forward towards his uncle his body buzzing with pent up anger.
"Frodo!" Bilbo scolded shocked at his nephew.
"He meant no offense " Fili stated quietly, holding his hands up in surrender as his shifted his body towards his brother, "It was only a joke, no harm done."
Fili's attempt at an apology only served to fuel Frodo's anger. Only a joke? No harm done? Was he serious? Did none of them realize just how positively rude it was to barge up to someone's home unanoucnced, invite themselves in for tea, and them insult their host by calling them by the wrong name? Were dwarves really so dense?
He doubted King 'I'm to good to say a single word since I walked in your door' would ever allow someone to disrespect him in such a way in his mountain. Oh no, he'd never allow that but he obviously wouldn't hold his companions to the same standard of respect towards their host. It didn't seem to matter that his nephew had just disrespected Bilbo in his own home just solidifying the idea that the dwarves thought themselves better than hobbits, better than his uncle. They had never been so wrong in their lives. If anything Bilbo was a far better being than any of these dwarves could ever hope to be and Frodo would make sure that they knew it.
"If a name is nothing more than a joke than you won't mind that I call your uncle, Thorin Oakenshit, when I tell others one of my uncle's stories." he shot back with a satisfied smirk relishing in the immediate effect it had on the dwarves sitting before him.
A normal hobbit would have been terrified at the sound of numerous battle tried dwarves growling in his direction but Frodo was not a normal hobbit. He was a Baggins and adopted nephew of the bravest hobbit who had ever lived. If his uncle could riddle with a dragon he could verbally spare with a bunch of dwarves.
"FRODO!" Bilbo shouted slamming his hand down hard against the solid oak mantel.
Frodo's head snapped to the right, as well as every dwarf, and came face to face with one very enraged Bilbo. Frodo felt his face pale as he took in the very red, very very angry face of his uncle. In fact he couldn't think of a single time he had every seen Bilbo as he did now. He hadn't even looked half this mad when he caught Frodo, Sam, and Merry stealing pies from the Baker's window.
"Kitchen. Now." Bilbo demanded his voice leaving no room for argument.
Frodo flinched at his uncle's tone wondering how he managed to make it sound so full or fire and ice at the same time. Straightening his shoulder's Frodo marched past the dwarves into the kitchen hoping that his uncle was above murdering young hobbits.
"Just what do you think your doing?" Bilbo hissed as they both made it in to the kitchen.
"What are they doing here?" Frodo questioned spinning sharply in his heel to face his uncle.
"Where are you manners young man?"
"They don't deserve my manner or yours!" Frodo half shouted throwing his arms put towards the direction of the sitting room.
"They are our guests." Bilbo huffed tapping his foot impatiently his hands firmly planted on his hips.
"Why are they our guests? We didn't invite them here nor did they send word of their arrival." Frodo clipped and Bilbo sighed.
Damned if the boy wasn't right.
"That's true," he groaned pinching the bridge of his nose, "but they're here now-"
"Who gave them the right to think that they could just come barging in the way they did? Especially after the way they treated you." The young hobbit interrupted hotly unable to just give in to the idea of these darrows staying under his uncle's roof.
"We've been over this Frodo..." Bilbo groaned.
"They banished you from the mountain you helped reclaim without a second thought over a stupid rock!"
"It was not just a rock it was-"Bilbo pressed.
"No rock no matter how much it bloody sparkled is worth more than your life!" Frodo shouted interrupting his uncle again not caring if his voice carried for the dwarves to hear.
"Language!" Bilbo chastised.
"One of those dwarves tried to kill you uncle while the others just stood by and let it happen and yet they want us to sit and pretend we're glad their here?" Frodo asked incredulously his eyes bright with tears.
"I can't stand the sight of them." Frodo hissed and Bilbo heard the catch in his voice his anger disappearing with it.
"I know it's hard to understand." He soothed stepping towards his nephew pulling him into a loose embrace. Though he didn't condone his actions he understand Frodo's anger.
Damn Gandalf and his big meddling mouth.
"The only thing I don't understand is how stupid they'd have to be to think they'd be welcome here." Frodo whined into his uncle's shoulder.
"Regardless of your feelings on the matter you will apologize."
"No." Frodo clipped sounding every inch the petulant teenager.
"So help me Frodo you will apologize. I don't know why they're here but we are Bagginses of Bag End and that means we will do our hobbit duty no matter how uncomfortable we may be."
"Just tell them to go away." mumbled into his uncle's jacket.
"Frodo." Bilbo warned pulling back to look his nephew in the eye using one of his trade mark, 'do not push me young hobbit or you will regret it' stares.
"Fine." Frodo groaned running a dramatic hand down his face.
Hiding his small smirk, because nothing about this situation was at all funny, Bilbo gently nudged his nephew in the shoulder and guided him into the sitting room where thirteen dwarves were trying very hard to look as if they had not just been ease dropping on a private family arguement.
Bilbo steered Frodo to the center of the room giving the back of his arm a slight pinch when he refused to speak. Frodo turned giving Bilbo an annoyed glare, that had zero effect on the older hobbit, and sighed.
"Fine." he mumbled under his breath.
Turning to Kili who looked a little weary to be the center of the young hobbit's attention Frodo cleared his throat.
"My uncle has informed me that my behavior towards all of you could be considered rude and that I was to apologize for it." Frodo started, "but I refuse to apologize to those who a have done wrong and harmed my most beloved family and far as I'm concerned you deserve no more kindness than a pile of orc dung!" he shouted discordantly before spinning on he heel and running towards the door his uncle right behind him.
Frodo ignored his uncle calling his name as he swung open the door and then slammed his loudly behind him. Pushing his feet faster he sprinted around the back of the simial and into the fields beyond.
Bilbo fell against the freshly closed door his forehead pressing hard into the wood. Letting off a string of curses that would have made even his fiery mother blush Bilbo forced himself to turn and face the group in the other room.
"I'm sorry for my nephews behavior." he stated unable to meet anyone but Bofur in the eye. "He's fourteen, which means he's just old to think he understands situations still beyond his reach." he chuckled half heartedly.
"He's not normally like this," he continued, "but we're all each other has after his parents passed and we've both become rather protective of each other." he finished with a sheepish smile.
"Maybe it would be best if we found a room at the Inn back in town. We wouldn't want to cause any trouble for you and the boy." Bofur offered looking both sad and guilty.
"No, I said you're welcome to stay and I meant it. There are four bedrooms, each with two beds down the hallway leading left out of the kitchen. There's two more, again each with two beds down the hallway leading to the right out of the kitchen. Straight through the entrance hallway and past the study you'll find four more rooms, one with two beds and one with a single. The furthest door with a delphenium flower carved on it leads to Frodo's room and the one right next to it with the Oak leaf carving is mine." He stated pointing in the directions of the rooms as he opened the door.
"Please make your selves at home. Food is in the pantry and cold cellars, feel free to help yourselves to whatever you want." he called as he stepped on to the porch.
Not even a second after he disappeared from sight his curly head popped back around the door his eyes taking in the confused looking dwarves, "I'm just going to find Frodo. Don't worry I'll be back in time to make supper."
"Well that could have gone better." Dwalin groaned rising to his feet.
"Ever the observant one brother." Balin sighed running a large hand over his tired face.
"Bilbo's nephew doesn't seem to like us very much." Bombur rumbled from his spot in the corner.
"Aye, it looks like it won't just be our burglar who we have to make amends too." Bofur added his eyes still focused on the door Bilbo had just walked out of.
All of the company murmured their agreement their shoulders slumping under the weight of their guilt.
"Alright everyone let's get settled in there's nothing more we can accomplish standing around sulking." Balin ordered spurring the dwarves into movement.
Breaking off into pairs the company went in search of the rooms Bilbo had described before his hasty departure leaving only two dwarves in the now empty sitting room.
"You might try speaking to the lad when he returns you know." Dwalin scoffed coming to stand by Thorin's shoulder.
"I don't deserve to speak to him." Thorin mumbled through his hair causing Dwalin to growl.
"You might not deserve it but he does." the tattooed dwarf snarled. "We didn't travel all the way here for your to sit on your royal ass and not try to fix this horrible mess we've found ourselves in. So pull yourself together and stop hiding behind excuses." he snapped stomping down the hall that led to the area near Bilbo and his nephew's rooms leaving one brooding king in his wake.