Archive of Our Own ^beta

Frodo had always known there was something odd with his uncle. Well maybe odd wasn’t quite the right word for it. Bilbo was odd sure, still that had never been odd to Frodo.

He wasn’t even born when his uncle left the shire for the first time but from his gloomy demeanor and the gossip Frodo picked up over the years after he knew that Bilbo Baggins had become a very different hobbit during his journey. But as already established this was not strange at all to Frodo and he had yet to find a single hobbit in all of the shire with better stories.

The first thing he can remember actually finding odd about his uncle was the way he looked at the oak tree in the far end of his garden. Frodo knew of course the origin of the tree and that it meant a lot to Bilbo as one of the only things he broght back from the quest but that didn’t explain the deep sadness that seemed to come over Bilbo whenever he looked at it for too long.

When Frodo was younger he would sometimes find his uncle curled up under that oak if it was raining and no nosey neighbors were out to watch him.
His mother had even made a sort of game out of it after a while. Whenever the skies began clouding and thick drops of water started falling she would tell him to go out and look under the tree for Bilbo. When Bilbo saw Frodo out in the rain he would always bring him inside and sit him down by the fire while he made tea for them both and told Frodo whichever story he wanted from Bilbos adventures. These were probably some of the best moments of his childhood when he looks back, and now that he sees the pain with which Bilbo looks on that oak, some of Bilbos worst.

The second thing he noticed was the braid tucked behind Bilbos ear. Sure many hobbits had braids to keep hair away from their food but those were often simple and seldom remained the same. Bilbo only ever had one braid in his hair and it was not the simple braid of hobbits. This was quite complex and always stayed the same. Once before a gruesome yet important dinner with the Sackville-Bagginses Frodos mother had tried fixing Bilbos hair and he had jumped back as if burnt then quickly apologised. Everyone seemed to forget it immediately after but no one ever touched Bilbos hair after that

After Frodos parents died all had become a bit of a blur but he moved in with his uncle and what pain he felt Bilbo was far too good at distracting him from, with stories and everyday adventures.

After a few months in which he settled into his new life in Bag-end he began noticing some things about his uncle he had not before; the way he always jumped a little if someone knocked at his door around tea time; The huge fur laying on his bed - no matter how hot it was outside - that he had somehow never paid attention to before, and the chest with things from Bilbos journey that Bilbo never actually let him look thorough even though he’d shown Frodo everything in it at least twice.

It took half a year before Bilbo had his first visitor from outside the shire. He had had visitors before of course but this was the first time Frodo saw more than a big beard or a colorful travel coat slip in through the door.

It was dinner time when he heard a loud knock at the door and Bilbo asked him to go see who it was (and tell Lubilia that Bilbo wasn’t home if it was her).
It wasn’t her.

At the door stood a dwarf. He was a bit taller than a hobbit and had a small beard and kind eyes. The hat he had on looked funny to Frodo and maybe he would have laguht if it wasn’t for his manners and the shock of having a fully grown dwarf at his door.

The dwarf looked at him a bit confused for a moment before he quickly looked away and bowed at Frodo. “Bofur, at your service.” So this was one of the dwarfs from Bilbos stories. “I think I might have gotten lost. Do you know where Bag-end is?”
Before Frodo could start explaining that this was indeed Bag-end, Bilbo had appeared behind him.

“Master Baggins! Hope it’s no trouble if I stay for dinner”

“Not at all. Oh I should introduce you to my nephew Frodo.” Frodo gave him a toothless grin.

“Mahal he looks almost exactly like Tho-” He quickly stopped himself when he saw Bilbos expression had grown dark. “Sorry. Nice to meet you Frodo” He said sheepishly and they did not speak of it again.

Bofur, it turned out, was on his way to the blue mountains for trade and to meet those of his kin that had not yet moved back to Erebor but “Would never miss a chance to visit his favourite burglar”.

Frodo didn’t really pay much attention to them after that. It was really exciting to meet someone he’d heard so much about but most of his and Bilbos conversation after that was about the latest happenings in Erebor and gossip about people they both knew which didn’t interest him much.
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Over the years more Dwarves came to visit Bag-end and for every new one a clear pattern started to appear.

Frodo would open the door, hear a familiar name from Bilbos stories and then they’d meet his eyes and look away fast as if they’d seen a ghost and murmur some curse under their breath.

They’d always look at Bilbo with such sympathy after and in truth Frodo hated it. In his mind there were two options as to why and he didn’t know which one he despised the most. Either they felt bad that Bilbo had to have him around which didn’t really make sense to him when he thought about it. They were always kind to him and after Frodo met them a few times they’d always bring him small toys and trinkets from the mountains.
The other more likely option was that they knew something he didn’t but this would mean his uncle was keeping something from him. Surely Bilbo had told him everything worth knowing of his adventures.

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It was only many years later that he heard the full tale of how Erebor was reclaimed.

He had been in Rivendell for some weeks by then and had spent most of that time by the fire with Bilbo and Gloin occasionally being joined by Gimli. His uncle and Gloin would talk for hours of their adventures and Frodo would sit content to the side listening.

The first real difference he noticed in the story was at the Carrock. The way Bilbo had told it or rather hadn’t it was nothing of significance, only a few words of how he’d been accepted into the company. Gloin however told him of how the king had wrapt Bilbo in his arms and apologised for everything he’d said so far on their journey about how the hobbit should have stayed home. Gloin also told him of the ten gold he got from a bet with Nori though he would not say what the bet was about.

The next day Bilbo did not join them by the fire. He had shut himself in his room and Frodo could hear Gloin curse himself under his breath for bringing it up. This both worried and intrigued Frodo. Clearly Bilbo had left something out of the story and Frodo would very much like to know what and why. So he did the only reasonable thing and took Bilbos absence as a chance to ask Gloin about it.

“Gloin?”

“Aye lad”

“Why did uncle become so upset from what you said yesterday?”

Gloin looked into the fire for a long time before he answered.

“He doesn’t like it when we mention Thorin too much.”

“Why not? I thought they were friends before he died. Does he not want to honor his memory?”

"Of course he wants to honor his memory lad, and he does, in his own way”

“But why not speak of him?”

There was pity in Gloins eyes when they met Frodos but not for him.

“Too many memories I believe. Too much hurt.” Before Frodo could react the dwarf gestured at him to be silent and listen.

“After that day at the Carrock much changed between Bilbo and Thorin. From what I know you already knew this though not how much changed. There was a deep respect between them and even though they’d bicker like an old married couple they never actually fought after that. I don’t know too much of what exactly happened but at some point the rest of us stopped looking when they laid their bedrolls next to each other and Fíli and Kíli began betting how long it would take for one of them to crack and eventually we all joined in.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see lad.”

He cleared his throat before continuing

“It was Bofur who saw them first. It was a particularly cold night and he had the first watch. From what he told us afterward he had just taken a little walk around the camp to check that all was alright when he saw our king curled up around the hobbit with his thick cloak draped over them both. Fíli and Kíli teased Thorin relentlessly when they found out and he tried to explain it away by saying he couldn’t let our burglar freeze to death but no one bought it. We saw them like that more often after but we didn’t bring it up again, simply slipped each other a few coins here and there depending on what latest bet had been won.”

“But what about the dragon sickness?” Frodo asked, trying to piece it all together with this new information.

“I’ll get there in a bit, calm down.”

“As I was saying, we mostly left them alone to whatever was growing between them. Then when we finally had reclaimed Erebor all was good for a while.”

“But when Bilbo told me about it Thorin went mad almost before you even entered the mountain” Frodo piped up.

“Well he didn’t tell you what actually happened then.”

Frodo felt a bit hurt if he was being honest, why would his uncle lie to him?

“Calm down laddie, he had his reasons. Anyhow all was good in Erebor for some weeks and we started to rebuild it the best we could with only the fourteen of us. Then one morning we all gathered to split the tasks of the day and wouldn't you know it Bilbo was standing by Thorins side with a small braid tucked behind his ear. We almost didn’t believe our eyes at first because such a braid to a dwarf is one of the highest gestures of love and with the smug look on Thorins face it was clear he put it there.”

“He loved uncle?” This didn’t surprise him nearly as much as he thought it would have but after all the signs were there.

“Yes he did. A lot.”
Gloin gave out a deep sigh before he spoke again.
“Then the dragon sickness started to settle in which I’m sure Bilbo already told you much about.”

Frodo nodded but didn’t make an effort to stop the old dwarf from continuing.

“It drove him mad, no longer seeing friend from enemy, only caring for gold and treasures for that is all a dragon does my lad.”

“We were starting to think all was lost when Bilbo came thought to him if only for a moment and a sliver of hope started to form in the dark. That all disappeared however when Bilbo gave the Arkenstone to the elves making him a traitor in the kings eyes. He tried to throw Bilbo down the wall and I don’t doubt he would have had Gandalf not stopped him.”

“I don’t know for sure what happened after since Bilbo does not talk about it but after Thorin was back to himself I know they made their peace even if it was on Thorins deathbed.”

Frodo thought for a while while taking in all this new information.

“What was he like? Thorin I mean.” He asked at last.

“Oh where do I even begin?”

“He was stubborn though I think you’ve figured that out already. Protective like a dragon of its treasure to all in the company but especially Fíli, Kíli and later on Bilbo of course. He was a great leader and a great man.”

Gloin paused for a moment.

“I never got to know him as well as I would’ve liked to and I’m afraid the ones who knew him best except your uncle are either dead or half a world away.”

They sat in silence after that until Frodo was summoned to the counsel of Elrond and he stood to leave. He was just about to close the door when Gloin spoke up again.

“You look an awful lot like him, you know. Same eyes, same hair, it was truly disturbing at first.”

With that Frodo closed the door, happy to finally have all his many questions answered and happy to hopefully be done with adventures and mysteries for good now.