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I look down at the baby in my arms with a small, sad smile, and Frerin silently stares back up at me with his bright blue eyes. Bilbo’s eyes. There is a small tuft of dark hair on his tiny head, and his ears share the same pointiness as the ones on the hobbit that I have grown to love so deeply.
Amazingly, he is the same size as any other dwarf baby, and for the life of me, I have no idea how Bilbo had managed to give birth to this child. He was so strong and brave during the delivery, and it only made me love him more. He never ceases to amaze anyone. Frerin’s nose is unmistakably Durin, as is his chin. He could easily be my child.
My cousin. Oh how I hate calling him that. It leaves an aching twinge in my chest. I dream of calling him son instead. In these fantasies, his name is Bili, to honor both of his fathers. Frerin Thor Oakenshield only honors Thorin. You wouldn’t even know he is Bilbo’s child if it wasn’t for his hobbit-ish features.
I understand the desire to name him after Thorin’s deceased brother, but the middle name could have, and should have, been from Bilbo’s family. Yet Bilbo had simply smiled fondly at his husband and accepted the name without dispute.
Of course he had; because Bilbo is understanding and selfless to a fault. Then there is Thorin, who was the exact opposite. He is selfish and greedy, and that makes them perfect and yet terrible for each other at the same time.
I wonder if things would be different if I had confessed my feelings to Bilbo sooner. Would Frerin be my son? Would I be the one that fell asleep holding Bilbo every night and got the honor of kissing him awake every morning? I doubt it. Bilbo is completely enamored with my uncle, and I have a feeling that nothing I could have done would have changed that.
But I would treat him better; I would treat him the way he deserves. I would never take him for granted, because I would know that I am lucky just to be a part of his life. I would tell him every day that he is loved and appreciated, and I would do everything in my power to make sure that he is happy.
I would take him on picnics in fields of flowers and buy every book I can find in Westron for his personal library. Bilbo would like that much better than being showered in gold; something Thorin always insists on doing. My uncle is foolish enough to think that plying Bilbo with treasure shows him how much he loves him. It's like he doesn’t even know him at all.
Thorin spends almost every waking hour ruling Erebor, and Bilbo is left alone more often than not. He always smiles and finds things to keep him occupied, but I can see that all he wants is to be with Thorin. It's exactly how I feel about him. I would give anything for him to look at me the way he looks at Thorin. I take every opportunity I can to spend with Bilbo and Frerin.
It doesn't matter that Bilbo isn’t mine. Just seeing his smile and hearing his laugh makes the world seem brighter. It's worth every extra scolding I receive for neglecting my work. Bilbo has a smile that could light up the whole mountain. I wonder if Frerin will have it too. I imagine that he will.
I know that Thorin loves the idea of having a child, an heir, more than he likes actually being a father. I can see it in the way he acts. It's the opposite for me. The time I spend with Bilbo and Frerin are the most precious moments of my entire week. I can almost fool myself into thinking that Frerin is mine; that they both are. Almost.
Then my uncle walks in and wraps his arms around Bilbo, and the hobbit melts into his arms happily. It makes me feel sick. I always have to excuse myself with a smile that never quite reaches my eyes. I wonder if they notice. I doubt it.
I love Frerin more than the sun and the moon. How could I not? He is part of Bilbo, and that makes him perfect. He holds Bilbo’s heart in the tiny palm of his hand, and by extension, mine as well.
As I sing a soft lullaby that my mother taught me to the slumbering child in my arms, I lose myself in thoughts about what could have been. Every day I feel another piece of my heart break away, and I know that soon there will be nothing left.
There are times when it gets to be too much, and it's then that I retreat to my room to take solace in my sleep. I know that Fili and my mother are getting worried about the increasing amount of time I spend sleeping, but it's all I have.
For it's only in my dreams that Bilbo and the baby are mine.