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English
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Published:
2024-08-21
Updated:
2024-08-21
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1,209
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1/?
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Like Pumpkins

Summary:

(So far just a letter from Bilbo to Thorin for a larger story idea I had.)

Children. He had children. A son and a daughter. A son alone was a gift, but a daughter was nothing short of a blessing. Especially after a lifetime of thinking he would never have either. He was certain he wouldn't, after so many years alone and unsettled. Even more so after realizing the true nature of his feelings for Bilbo. They were both male, after all. In the unlikely event Bilbo returned his affections, they would never be able to have children. Or so he thought. Who knew the old rumors about Hobbits growing on the vine like pumpkins would prove to be true!

Notes:

I have had this in my drafts for the longest time. One day I'd like to do something with it. For now I'm just gonna post what I have to see what y'all think.

Chapter Text

Dear Thorin,

You asked in your previous letter if I required anything to make my stay in Erebor more comfortable. I cannot think of anything beyond a bed, bath, and good company. I'm looking forward to seeing how each member of your original thirteen have settled into life in the Lonely Mountain; Fili and Kili have told me very little, as they haven't wanted to ruin anyone else's fun. They have better restraint than I remember from our last meeting.

They have left it to me to reveal to you some of my own surprises as well. I suppose I have been stalling a bit, hoping to not have to make the revelation myself. Or perhaps just not by letter. But to wait until I see you in person would mean surprising and inconveniencing you quite a bit. Perhaps even offending you. It is poor manners to bring along extra guests without your host's consent, after all. So I would ask that, when arranging accommodations for myself, you also prepare for the three young ones I have with me. They don't require much; when we stayed overnight in Bree, the four of us more than comfortably slept in a Man-sized bed. They are quite happy to crowd in with me. Even the eldest, though he likes to pretend he's too old for it.

His name is Frodo, and he's my nephew. Well. As close to my nephew as he can be, with my not having any siblings. His father was a Baggins, so we'll leave it at that. His parents passed, tragically, and he entered my care a little over four years ago. He's a good lad, if a bit more bold than most Shirefolk would think a young Hobbit should be. He will get on perfectly with Balin and Ori, I think. He is ever curious and loves to learn. He has been attempting to convince the members of the caravan to teach him Khuzdul, to no avail.

My children Our I do not know how to introduce them here. Referring to them as "ours" without your consent and before even telling you of their existence feels wrong, yet calling them simply "mine" in a letter addressed to you feels as though it disregards your parentage of them entirely. For now, I will simply call them mine, as I do not wish to presume that you will accept them as your own. You would be well within your rights not to. I had them, after all, without your knowledge or consent. Though it was not entirely with mine either. 

Such an action is one of the worst offenses a Hobbit can commit, and I have committed it against you. I cannot find words to express my sincerest apologies. I know you will be angry at me. You have every right to be.

It was quite unintentional, I assure you. I would not have had them without your consent knowingly. I had always thought that the act of growing children was more exacting! It's an old tradition, meant to echo the creation of Hobbits. Two Hobbits, deeply in love, each take a strand of their own hair and wrap it tightly around a seed or pit, then bury it in their home's garden and ask for Yavanna's blessing. Then they tend it like any other seed. If conditions are right, it'll sprout. From the sprout, the vine, then the gourds, and when the gourds split, babies.

You may recall that I took an acorn from Beorn's garden? It took me a bit to plant it; Bag End was in quite a state when I returned. When I did finally plant it, I decided to surround it with flowers, memorializing you and the lads. And since I was digging, I decided to bury some other things too. Things I could not bear to keep, but could not bring myself to destroy either. Mainly, the coat I was wearing the day you "died". I meant it as a memorial, you see. The flowers, the acorn, and all my painful memories buried in one spot. I had not considered that the process for growing Hobbits was not as strict as I was taught. I had not realized that the ritual called only for 1) a piece of each parents' body and 2) something to grow on. It did not occur to me until the vine was well and truly sprouted that a coat covered in your and my blood could count towards a piece of each parents' body.

I have thought, perhaps, that Yavanna saw my grief and gave them to me as a comfort. I gave Her a bloody coat and an acorn and She gave me two beautiful children.

They are beautiful, Thorin. They are everything a parent could ask for. Taorin is quiet, and ever so thoughtful. He is reserved, hesitant with strangers, but will push beyond his own comfort to lend a helping hand to anyone who needs it. They have been met with some disdain, as they are both Hobbit and Dwarf, and Shirefolk are not particularly welcoming to people outside their norms. Unlike his sister, Taorin never seems upset by any derision. He carries on as usual, as if it doesn't trouble him a bit, and never treats anyone poorly for it. He has a good head and an even better heart. I can only assume he inherited both from a grandparent or two, as he definitely didn't get them from either of us.

Melodis is all fire. As I have watched her with Lady Dis, I know exactly where it came from. She is my mother and yours, a fearsome Took and a regal d warrowdam mixed and given the most petite of forms. Kili delights in hefting her above his head in one hand, and she delights in biting him until he lets go. She has found her kindred spirits among the dwarrow children in the caravan; I woke the other day to find her dueling with a wooden ax and shield, egged on loudly by her cousins and brother. She lost, and was proud of herself all the same. She has been practicing every day since, determined to best her new friends before we arrive in Erebor. Her determination and resilience are unmatched. That, I know, she gets from you.

They are eager to meet you. I hope you will be too. However, if you wish us to turn around and return to the Shire, I shall understand. Please relay such a wish promptly, as the return journey will be harder the further on we travel. 

Yours,

Bilbo Baggins

Children. He had children. A son and a daughter. A son alone was a gift, but a daughter was nothing short of a blessing. Especially after a lifetime of thinking he would never have either. He was certain he wouldn't, after so many years alone and unsettled. Even more so after realizing the true nature of his feelings for Bilbo. They were both male, after all. In the unlikely event Bilbo returned his affections, they would never be able to have children. Or so he thought. Who knew the old rumors about Hobbits growing on the vine like pumpkins would prove to be true!