Chapter Text
The sun hung low in the sky, casting its golden rays across the rolling hills of the place that was nestled so far in Bilbo’s heart he was sure he would never forget it. Even when far away in a dwarven mountain, he was and would always be a creature of the Shire.
It had been decades since Bilbo Baggins had last set foot in this place, in the place he was moulded by, and the familiar landscape caused tears to rise in his eyes. Ori, bless his sweet soul waved a handkerchief under Bilbo’s nose, causing the two of them, Dwalin and Bofur to laugh when they saw it, remembering the hobbit that Bilbo had been all those years ago as he ran out of his door unprepared for what they would face. Even looking at the Shire now, his heart having realised how much he had missed the Shire. He didn’t regret it, could never regret the life and love he and Thorin had built in Erebor.
After the Battle of the Five Armies, Bilbo had never returned to the Shire. Instead, he had sent a letter to Ered Luin to Dis. As well as enclosed a letter to his uncle so the Shire knew he was still alive and Bag End was still his, whether or not he was there.
Instead, he has stayed in Erebor. He had built a new life alongside Thorin and the rest of his beloved dwarven family.
Now, Bilbo was back for a reason greater than just nostalgia or a trip down memory lane.
He was here to bring home a lost little faunt. He had come to retrieve Frodo Baggins. The orphan of his two favourite cousins who had been stolen from Frodo the way Bilbo’s own parents had been stolen from him.
It didn’t matter to Bilbo that he only knew the boy through Prim and Drogo’s letter. It didn’t matter that until he had received the letter from his Aunt Mirabella telling him about Frodo, about how she couldn’t raise him and how he was becoming a wraith of a faunt, he had never expected to even set eyes on the boy.
His Aunt Mirabella had reminded Bilbo he was the same when he lost his parents and of everyone she knew and loved, she knew Bilbo would be the right person to love the boy. She had given him permission to take the faunt back to Erebor with him as long as he swore to send her a portrait at least once a year and remind the boy his nana Brandybuck loved him with all her heart.
Bilbo had, of course, agreed in a heartbeat. He remembered what it was like, how desolate he felt, how broken he was with no one to understand and he had been much, much older than the little faunt he was going to meet now.
So no, Bilbo may not have met the boy, but he loved him with every fibre of his being, as did Thorin, who Bilbo was aware was fretting over how to make the mountain inhabitable for a tiny little being like a hobbit faunt. Bilbo hoped it would keep his husband busy enough to hopefully sleep and not miss him too much, not that he held out much hope for that, but one could wish after all.
As Bilbo rode toward Brandybuck Hall, the home of Frodo’s mother’s family, where his Nana Brandybuck was caring for him along with his countless aunts and uncles, Bilbo felt a mix of both excitement and anxiety. Would Frodo even want to talk to him? Let alone leave everything he knew behind to go with the “Mad Baggins,”. He had written to the boy of course, and received letters in return when he wrote to Primula and Drogo, but that was the only relationship he had with the boy and he hoped it would be enough, along with Mirabella’s reassurance, to convince the faunt to come back to Erebor with him.
Bilbo and the dwarves who had accompanied him had heard the rumours that were following him through the Shire. The whispers about who he was, how uncivilised he was. How he was here to steal Frodo from his rightful place, and he hoped it wouldn’t affect his ability to fetch the boy. After all, Primula and Drogo had named him Frodo’s guardian and Mirabella had made it clear he was free to adopt the boy if he wished to.
Bilbo bit his lip, so he didn’t snap at his family, his old neighbours. He was fed up with them acting as if his dwarves were savages!
Bilbo had to keep the peace. Although he had Frodo’s grandmother’s permission to take him, he still needed the Thane to sign the adoption papers.
Unfortunately for Bilbo, his least favourite cousin, Fortinbras, was now the Thane. Bilbo couldn’t keep his groan inside. “Of all the Tooks, it had to be him,” he grumbled to himself, catching Dwalin’s attention who was riding beside him.
“Are you sure about this, Bilbo?” Dwalin asked having to keep his hand on his reins so he didn’t smack a mouthy hobbit in the mouth.. He was sure that would cause more trouble for Bilbo, instead he was glaring at them and taking delight in the way they scurried out of their way.
“I know I don’t have to. I know I didn’t have to return for the boy. But I love him, even if I haven’t met him. The boy needs us, and he needs to come home, Dwalin.” Bilbo said with certainty.
Bofur, ever the optimist, suddenly piped up. “He is gonna have a whole lot of friends waiting for him back at Erebor and an instant family who will adore him. Just wait till he sees the mountain!”
“Yes, friends and family who are a bit rough around the edges,” Bilbo said with a soft laugh. Dwarves were not hobbits, but in Bilbo’s not so humble opinion, they had more loyalty in their little fingers than most hobbits related to Bilbo had in their whole bodies.
Bilbo couldn’t stop the flicker of apprehension that shot through him, though. He had told Thorin all he knew about Frodo, and Thorin had agreed wholeheartedly to welcome the boy into their lives and their family. Still, Bilbo knew a child like Frodo would need time to adjust to life among dwarves. They were much larger than him, much more rambunctious, and whilst dwarves could be courteous, they had very little manners, especially at the table. Something a child raised by Drogo Baggins would find hard to adjust to, just like Bilbo had.
Bilbo finally crested the hill towards Brandybuck Hall, and he took a deep breath in before turning to his dwarves.
“If you head that way, and follow the path, you will find Hobbiton. You remember the way to my smial yes?” he asked his dwarves.
“Aye, but we can’t just leave you here,” Dwalin grumped out.
“Dwalin, I’m in the Shire. Nothing here can hurt me, even their sharp tongues. Go get Bag End ready for Frodo if he will come with us. That was the boys’ home, after all, where he lived with his parents.” Bilbo explained.
“He lived at your Smial?” Ori asked suddenly for the first time.
Bilbo smiled at Ori sadly. “Yes, when Drogo wrote he was going to propose to Primula, he told me he was worried about moving into Brandybuck Hall. After all, like me, he was an only child. I was never planning on coming back here and so I let them lease it for a pittance. Just for the upkeep really and the chance to stay if me and Thorin ever made it back here. So that is where Frodo was born, where he lived and grew and his home was ripped from him when he lost his parents too, as unlike me, he was too young to be left there alone,” Bilbo said sadly.
“Poor tyke. Aye, we will sort the place out,” Bofur said as he sent Bilbo a sad smile.
“Thank you, my friends. If you cross the road, my neighbour Hamfast should have the key. I asked him to claim it so I could grab it off him. Just tell him your names and he will know you are my dwarves,” Bilbo told them.
There was a chorus of ayes and rough hugs before the dwarves finally left to go down the road towards Hobbiton, Dwalin lingering before Bilbo shooed him off.
Bilbo moved forward, holding the reins of his pony as he walked toward Brandybuck Hall, his heart pounding in his chest.
He hoped Frodo would allow him to be his guardian. He hoped the boy would let him and Thorin love him the way he deserved.
Bibo just hoped he would be able to offer Frodo the home he so desperately needed, the home he desperately deserved.
Bilbo stepped foot inside Brandybuck Hall for the first time in much too long.
As soon as he stepped foot through the threshold, the noise of the chatter and laughter enveloped him in a way it hadn’t since he was a child himself, with his Aunt Mirabella and his own mum laughing and joking together as they corralled the vast amount of faunts who had always lived in the Hall.
He also remembered the weeks he would spend here after he lost his parents, after his Aunt Mirabella wanted her baby sister’s only child close. He remembered how lost and alone he felt. As such, he knew exactly where to go to find the youngster in a similar position he had been in.
Bilbo slowly stepped foot in the library, knowing that most of the other faunts were outside at this time of day, running their caretakers ragged. He was saddened, rather than pleased to see he was right.
There, all but hidden between the stacks apart from one little fuzzy foot, must have been Frodo.
Bilbo walked closer to the boy, making sure the lad heard him coming.
He peaked around the stacks and saw the forlorn little hobbit he had been looking for. Frodo had Prim’s bright blue eyes, but everything else about him was all Drogo, all Baggins.
Bilbo saw the toy rabbit clutched tightly in the lad’s hands. The one Prim had sewn for him before he was even born. Frodo wouldn’t know, but the silk on the rabbit’s ears and his belly had been a gift from Bilbo. Primula had berated him for the extravagance in her next letter to him, but Bilbo was pleased to see the rabbit was as much loved as he had expected it to be. That all the love Primula had poured into the rabbit for her unborn child was hopefully a small comfort for Frodo.
Bilbo’s heart ached at the sight of the forlorn little hobbit before him, no matter how fond and bittersweet his memories of the lad’s parents were. Frodo’s dark hair hung limply over his face, and Bilbo had seen eyes so alike his, bright and alive, in Primula’s face as she grew. Now, on Frodo’s face, they looked lifeless and desolate.
That look had no place on a faunt’s face. Especially one whose mother had been as bright and vibrant as Primula.
Bilbo slowly crouched down as soon as Frodo looked at him, giving him a soft smile. The boy hugged his rabbit tighter as he looked at the unknown hobbit before him.
“Hello Frodo. You’ve never met me, but we have exchanged letters. I’m your Uncle Bilbo,” he said quietly.
Frodo looked up at Bilbo in surprise. If the library hadn’t been silent apart from the two of them, he wouldn’t have heard Frodo’s “Oh, your uncle Bilbo,” before he suddenly had an armful of sobbing faunt.
Bilbo had to suppress his own tears as Frodo howled in his arms, crying out all his pain and grief and loneliness. “You came ...” could be heard between the boys’ heart breaking sobs.
Bilbo moved Frodo so he could cradle him gently, whilst rocking with him, humming a quiet song as the boy’s sobs finally calmed down.
“Of course I came, darling. I’m sorry it took so long, but Erebor is a bit far away. Did your Nana tell you I was coming?” he asked gently.
Frodo nodded, his face still pressed into Bilbo’s jacket. “She did, I am glad. Did she tell you what we were talking about?” Bilbo asked him gently, getting nothing but another nod from the faunt.
“Frodo, darling, I need to know what your Nana told you, love,” Bilbo prodded him.
“She said you want to take me away,” Frodo finally muttered.
“Oh love. It’s not like that. It’s just that I live in Erebor now and I have to go back there. And your Nana thinks it will be a good idea if you come back with me. Have a fresh start where you will be the only child I am caring for, and it gets a bit lonely here, amongst all your happy cousins, doesn’t it? I bet some days you want to scream at them and tell them to stop laughing, to stop smiling. Some days, I even bet you wish it was their mummy and daddy who are gone and not yours, and then, because I know what a lovely boy you are, I bet you feel angry at yourself for wishing that pain, that hurt, on people you love, right?” Bilbo said, no longer able to contain his own tears as he held the boy tight.
Frodo looked up at Bilbo, both surprised that he understood and worried that if he admitted to that being the truth, he would get in trouble. Instead, he settled his head back on Bilbo’s chest and whispered, “how do you know that?” unwilling to admit that it was the truth.
“Because, when I lost my mummy and daddy, I was a fair bit older than you, but I was still a faunt, and that’s exactly how I felt,” Bilbo admitted.
Frodo’s head sprung up at that. “You lost your mummy and daddy too?” he asked, uncertain if he could ask.
“I did. My mum was your Nana’s sister. That means me and your mum are cousins. Which is why I loved her so much, and why I knew I loved you even when you were in her belly,” Bilbo explained softly. “You know your home, Bag End? That was mine. I grew up there, like you grew up there. And even if you don’t want to come with me, you can stay there with me until I go back to Erebor if you wish,” Bilbo told Frodo gently.
Frodo’s brow crinkled as he thought about all Bilbo had said. “I ... can I go home, even for a little bit? I don’t know if I want to go far, far away though,” he said, not looking up at Bilbo, worried he would disappoint him.
“I understand Frodo. Change is scary. Especially one such as this. I can promise that if you come to Erebor, then you will be loved. Dwarves are wonderful Frodo. They are honourable and brave and loyal and they love with their very beings. I am very lucky to have a family there, and if you come, you will be an instant part of the family too,” Bilbo explained, trying not to push the faunt either way. “And of course, I will be there too. You will live with me and I will look after you,” Bilbo said softly.
Frodo looked down at his rabbit he was gripping tightly in his small fingers. “What if I say I don’t want to go?”
Bilbo took a deep breath, feeling a pang in his heart, hoping it was just a question and not Frodo’s answer. “Then we will talk about the other options we have. I will say, I want to go back to Erebor, it is my home, but no matter what, I won’t leave you here alone Frodo. I will never leave you alright?” he told the faunt snuggled in his arms, wanting him to know how much Bilbo already adored him.
“Now, my little faunt, it’s time for you to have a nap,” Bilbo said as he rose, Frodo still cradled in his arms.
“Will you still be here?” Frodo asked Bilbo softly as he laid him in his bed in Primula’s childhood bedroom. Bilbo had to clench his jaw, so he didn’t bawl there and then and startle the faunt he was settling down.
“I can’t, sweetheart. Not tonight. I have to get Bag End ready, and tomorrow I have to go talk to the Thane so I can officially adopt you. Then we can talk about our options when you are officially mine, alright? I won’t make you leave if you don’t wish to Frodo,” Bilbo said as he gently pulled the blankets up over the boy and kissed his head.
“I will be back sometime tomorrow, though I can’t say exactly when. But I will see you, I swear,” he said to Frodo who nodded as he wrapped himself around his bunny and settled down, feeling like he was the centre of someone's world for the first time since his mummy and daddy had been taken to Yavanna’s Gardens.
Bilbo closed Frodo’s door before going to find his aunt to tell her he had gone down for a nap.
When Bilbo found her in the kitchen, looking almost identical to his own mother, he couldn’t help himself. He rushed towards her and gathered her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Mirabella,” he said to her softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier,” he said, not stopping his tears as Mirabella held him back just as tightly, her fingers sure to have left bruises with how hard she was gripping him.
“I warned them Bilbo, about the evils of the water, but you know my Primula. I swear she should have been your mother’s child. She sure acted like it some days,” Mirabella said with a wet chuckle. “Don’t let Fortinbras tell you no. No matter what happens, you get my boy out of here, you understand?” she asked Bilbo seriously.
“Mirabella ...” he said, his tone confused and concerned for her and Frodo.
“People are already talking about how they died in such an unnatural way. This will follow the boy. You know more than most how the rumours spread, especially about orphans with no one protecting them. He deserves better than that. You deserved better than that, but you were that little bit older and there was nothing in Arda that could have dragged you out of that smial your father made. No matter how much we tried,” she said with a sad laugh. “Frodo is younger, so hopefully it means he will be more open-minded and Primula chose right when she said she had named you his guardian. You are a unique flower amongst hobbits Bilbo, as is my Frodo, and he will suffocate here under his grief,” she said as she pulled back and wiped her eyes on her pinafore.
“I told him if he didn’t want to come, I would stay here with him,” Bilbo said, shocking his aunt.
“You can’t. You would wither here Bilbo. Plus, your husband can't follow you here, can he?” she asked, both appalled and touched by his offer.
Belladonna’s boy had never sounded as happy as he did in his letter, living in his dwarven mountain. She wouldn’t allow him to sacrifice his life, his happiness like that.
“It would hurt, and I would never wish to leave Thorin, but the boy deserves to choose if I am to be his guardian. No matter where he ends up, I will not let him be forgotten. He will not be passed along from family to family or left to himself because he isn’t getting over his parent’s death fast enough,” Bilbo said passionately.
Mirabella’s heart filled with pride at her sister’s boy. He would throw his entire life away for a child he had never met before. She gently cupped Bilbo’s cheeks in her hands and kissed his forehead. “You have your mother’s spirit, but you have your father’s heart, my boy. They, like I, would be so very proud of you. I love you Bilbo. And thank you for taking my boy, the last thing of Primula I have. I’m much too old to raise a faunt now, though I wish I wasn’t,” she said sadly as she pulled away from her favourite nephew. One, who unlike her own children, Frodo’s actual aunts and uncles, had stepped up to care for the boy.
Not only had Bilbo stepped up, but he had travelled halfway around the world and was willing to unwillingly leave his husband behind forever.
How could she not love a hobbit with such a heart, she thought as she finally watched Bilbo leave the Hall and head back to Bag End with his pony.
Mirabella sent a silent plea to Yavanna for her to show Belladonna the hobbit her boy had grown up to be, a hobbit her sister would have been proud of.