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Tonight, the entire Bag End family celebrated Yuletide in the warmth of their robes. Bilbo and Thorin shared a hearty meal with their young son Frodo. What a sweet life the Shire has to offer, in tune with the seasons! Thorin wouldn't trade his present life for anything in the world, not even a throne in Erebor. Especially with the two people he loved the most, his dear husband Bilbo and the most adorable of children, his son Frodo. Of course, he missed the company of dwarves and his family, but not the suffocating atmosphere he had felt from the moment he entered the mountain, and which had never left him. Gold sickness. The county was his haven. The winter solstice and New Year celebrations were his favorite, especially with all the food and decorations all over Hobbiton and inside. Thorin was proud of all the fir creations, with pinecones and other ribbons all over their home, but also the exquisite smell of pine needles in the dining room hearth. The scent of cinnamon, star anise and nutmeg brushed his nose, as did all the succulent smells of dinner. Bilbo had once again outdone himself with roast meat and seasonal vegetables.
The dwarf was hoping for snow. All the ingredients were there for a wonderful evening and an unforgettable moment, except the snow. He had missed it, not having seen any since he moved here permanently. The climate was much milder and calmer, so snow was still a rarity here. But he had a good hunch. He never had experienced such bitter cold in the Shire, it reminded him of the days of the Lonely Mountain. The cold pierced him every time he had to go out to the woods. But this cold was not dry, but biting and damp, heavy.
Bilbo and Thorin were just finishing their buche pâtissière with a glass of spiced red grape juice and a few slices of orange. Frodo was already asleep on an armchair curled up in a ball with his little white blanket knitted over his small shoulders. Just as he was about to get up and start clearing the table, Thorin paused for a moment in front of the window. He thought he saw a snowflake come through the window.
“Thorin? “
“Visibility is close to zero, but I think it's snowing! “
He kissed Bilbo on the head before quickly putting the plates in the sink and standing in front of the living room window again. It was one of the largest in the smial, round and offering a magnificent view of Hobbiton. Thorin watched intently to make sure he didn't miss a moment of the long-awaited snow! At last, the year was ending on an incredible note! What was the end of a year without snow? He was like a dwarf child again in front of this pure whiteness that never ceased to engulf the paths and plants of the town. With all this sudden commotion around him, Frodo woke up. He yawned loudly and scratched his eyes, gradually adjusting to the warm light of the fireplace.
“Adad? “
Thorin, still smiling, went to see his son, still in the mists of sleep. He crouched down in front of the armchair to embrace Frodo.
“You’re awake, my little gem,” he observed.
“You're not the most discreet person when it comes to moving around or expressing joy,” Bilbo said with a smile.
“I happen to have a good reason, my dear hobbit! Would you like to see what snow looks like? “
Frodo looked at his two fathers before nodding in response to Thorin's question. He lifted his son in his white nightgown to show him the wonder that had descended from the sky. At last, he could share this unique and magical moment with his little Frodo! As usual, the little dwobbit stuffed his little hands into his father's long brown beard before snuggling up to him a little more so as not to lose the warmth he had gained from the blanket. Bilbo stroked her hair tenderly before kissing his head.
“You see, my little gem, it's snow. When it's cold enough, rain or moisture in the air turns to ice, like the ice in your iced tea in summer. It happens every winter on Lonely Mountain, you know, the mountain where I'm from. And even though we're wintering in Erebor, we like to get out and have fun in the snow. I have so many childhood memories of Dís and Frerin having fun in the snow. It was my favorite time of year, along with all our spiced food for that period.”
He moved a little closer to the window to see enough snow on the sill to show Frodo the details. The little fellow marveled at the beauty of Hobbiton’s lights and falling snow. Thorin then showed him the flakes forming the snow in the corner of the window. The son of Bilbo and Thorin couldn't stop being amazed by what he was seeing for the first time, his eyes filled with stars and discovery. But he also kept yawning and rubbing his eyes again. It was already very late for a little fellow of his age. Frodo almost fell asleep in Thorin's arms, lulled to sleep by the movement of the snowflakes. Bilbo approached and embraced them both.
“I think a little sprout has to go to bed to make the most of the snow tomorrow,” he whispered.
Frodo tried to speak, but his words were nothing but mush and a mixture of Khuzdul and Westron. Thorin and Bilbo laughed and melted at the cuteness of their sleepy-eyed son fighting to stay awake with them.
“Don't worry, Frodo, the snow will still be there tomorrow, given the icy temperature outside,” said Thorin.
“Go to bed, I'll blow out all the candles and join you,” offered Bilbo.
Once again, he kissed Frodo on the forehead before starting to reach the candles in the living room. Without asking, Thorin crossed the corridor to the largest room, the three of them shared. Frodo slept with them, often against each other, to avoid any nocturnal anguish for the six-spring-old dwobbit. He laid his child on the mattress before making sure that all the cushions, pillows and bolsters were in the right place to be as comfortable as possible, as well as the various sheets and comforters. Thorin rekindled the fire in the hearth with the poker and added a log. He removed only his pants, so that he was in his shirt, ready to sleep. He took Frodo in his arms once more and cradled him against his broad chest, where he rested in the fetal position before sucking his thumb and beginning to doze. Thorin's heart filled with happiness and warmth, he kissed his son's forehead and hummed a song in Khuzdul to further lull the little dwobbit to sleep. Shortly afterwards, Bilbo joined them, stripping off his robe and climbing onto the bed to snuggle into the arms of his beloved dwarf. The three of them snuggled together, a pure joy Thorin wouldn't trade for a crown.
By seven o'clock in the morning, little Frodo was already wriggling in the arms of his two fathers. The sun didn't rise for another hour. A single idea had been tormenting him ever since he woke up: to walk outside and discover the wonders of this snow, so strange to him! What would it feel like to walk on it? What texture did it have? So many questions he couldn't wait to answer. Thorin and Bilbo gradually awoke to their son's enthusiastic movements. Bilbo had never been a morning person, and even less so if he turned out to be awakened, especially by Frodo. Thorin, having retained his ability to wake up quickly and urgently in case of trouble, was already wide awake. He was even smiling at Frodo, who kept fidgeting on the mattress. Bilbo kept grumbling, his head in a pillow. Thorin laughed softly at the sight of his dear hobbit dozing with his hair scattered all over the pillow and curled up in his blanket.
“I'll take care of everything, ghivashel,” Thorin murmured before placing a kiss on Bilbo's forehead.
Bilbo grumbled one last time before closing his eyes and enjoying a few more moments in the soft warmth of the room. He had no fond memories of snow and much preferred the warmth. Thorin stood up with Frodo in his arms, placing him on the ground before kissing him on the forehead. He slipped back into his soft, warm woollen pants, before pulling on equally thick socks to avoid shivering too much as he left the warmth of the bedroom. Frodo went ahead of his father into the small living room and sat on the bench below the window to see if the snow had melted while he slept. No, the landscape was still white, the hills and paths sparkling like diamonds, magnificent. Frodo could hardly contain his impatience in front of the window.
“Adad! Adad!”
“It's still a bit early, my little gem, to go outside. Let's have a good breakfast first before venturing outside. It's even better to be able to enjoy the snow in broad daylight. The sun is lazy in winter, like Da'.”
Frodo laughed at the comparison before following Thorin into the kitchen to prepare a good first meal of the day and thus withstand the cold. He was still unaccustomed to cooking, which was mainly Bilbo's domain, but the dwarf had the necessary faculties to prepare the various foods for a good breakfast. He fetched bread, various slices of bacon, apples, honey cakes, wine and milk from one of Bag End's many larders. While he prepared the various dishes for the three of them, Bilbo was up enjoying the spicy treats coming from the kitchen. Always a pleasure to wake up like this. He approached Thorin to embrace him from behind and stayed there for several seconds.
“Good morning, my dear burglar,” Thorin murmured.
“Good morning, my king,” replied Bilbo.
Their son's only objective was his food, and above all his nutmeg and cinnamon milk in his favorite stoneware cup, depicting a bear. The table abounded with the most delicious dishes. He didn't know where to turn to eat enough and have all the energy he needed. Bilbo broke his embrace with his dwarf before sitting down beside his son to ruffle his hair.
“Easy, my little sprout, you'll get hiccups and make yourself sick. That would be silly so close to the goal!”
“That's right, Da!”
Thorin and Bilbo had time for each of their lunches, accompanied by mint tea for Bilbo and mulled wine for Thorin, while the sun gradually rose to illuminate Bag End. Happy and impatient, Frodo hopped on his little bare hobbit feet, motivated at last to explore the outside world, especially since both his fathers had finished eating, as he had. Ever so impatient, Frodo tugged Bilbo's shirt, dragging him into the bedroom and urging him to dress for the outside world. Thorin cleaned up before joining them, just as happy to get dressed and spend some time in the snow with his son at last.
What a joy it was to get dressed again for the cold, wintry weather. He changed from his shirt into blue woollen pants, thick woollen socks and his long-sleeved blue woollen tunic. Bilbo and Frodo were already bundled up in their green woollen garments. Their shins and feet were bare, unlike Thorin's, like the good hobbits they were. The dwarf put on his thick blue woollen coat with fur around the collar, while Bilbo helped Frodo put on his mittens and knitted woollen scarf given to him by Ori. Thorin grabbed Bilbo's thick scarf and wrapped it lovingly around his neck. Bilbo kissed him on the mouth in thanks, before Thorin wrapped his arms around him and deepened the kiss.
Once again, Frodo's pleas brought them back to Earth. It was time to discover this enchanted world covered in white. Thorin and Bilbo had decided to go down to the main square to fully appreciate the moment and, above all, to have some room. The snow brought back bad memories for Bilbo, the moments during the Battle of the Five Armies when Thorin almost bled to death on the ice around an icy environment, or the harsh winter period when he was only 21...Not happy snow-related memories, far from it. He tried to put on a brave face for his son, but he knew he couldn't fool Thorin about his true state.
Before Bilbo could confide in him, Thorin had already opened the door, through which Frodo ran out in his impatience. His traumatic thoughts were somewhat dispelled by Frodo's cries of joy and surprise at discovering the icy temperature of the snow beneath his tiny feet.
“It's so cold! Brrr! I don't like the feeling!”
“Are you all right, Bilbo?” worried Thorin.
“I've got bad memories of snow...” replied Bilbo.
Thorin hugged him before helping him through the snow and kissing him on the cheek to comfort him.
“The Battle of the Five Armies is far ahead of us, I'm alive before you and thanks to you, ghivashel,” soothed Thorin.
Bilbo breathed in for a moment, then said:
“The last time it snowed in the Shire was during the Rough Winter. I was a young hobbit of twenty-one springs, barely an adult.”
“You’ll see, I'm going to make you some new memories with snow. For Frodo.”
“For Frodo,” repeated Bilbo.
The snow crunched under Thorin's heavy footsteps, what a sweet sensation he had missed! This timeless calm, as if all life had stopped, was an incredible moment. Everything was immaculate with no footprints, even at this late hour. The hobbits didn't dare show their noses outside. The couple could already feel the weight of the neighbors' prying eyes through their window, but too bad for them. The three of them went to enjoy this moment of sharing in the snow. It was impossible to miss where Frodo was, as he could not stop exclaiming about everything he felt and saw around him, tearing the silence of this marvelous landscape. All white and frozen, a landscape that reminded him of his magnificent, lonely mountain. He thought of Dís, but also of Frerin battling with the snow as if their lives depended on it, carefree and laughing like Frodo at the discovery of his first snow. Or all the young years when Kíli and Fíli ran, wrestled or tobogganed in Ered Luin. Tears threatened to fall Thorin's cheeks. Bilbo took him by the arm and snuggled closer to the dwarf who now shared his life.
“Far away in memories, aren't you? You miss Erebor,” Bilbo remarked.
“My family, and my brother Frerin,” Thorin corrected.
“We'll go back to Erebor, Thorin. Our family is there, and I miss everyone so much, especially my two daredevil nephews.”
Thorin smiled as he too thought of Kíli and the new king, Fíli. The couple walked down the path to the field in the middle of Hobbitebourg. The dwarf ran after his son to catch him and then show him how to create a proper snowman.
“My little gem, we have a tradition among dwarves of creating a dwarf out of snow, an snow dwarf!”
“What's a snow dwarf?”
“A snow dwarf made with two big snowballs and then we add buttons for the eyes and mouth, a carrot for the nose and straw for the beard. Want to give it a try?”
“I'll take care of the accessories! I'll be right back!”
Bilbo quickly kissed his beloved on the mouth before hurrying off to Bag End to collect the missing equipment and a hat and scarf. Thorin took a small amount of snow in his hands to form a small snowball before placing it on the ground.
“At first, you take a little snow and form a little ball with it, then you roll it on the ground like this so that it grows, remembering to change size regularly.”
Frodo concentrated on the task assigned to him by his father and rolled and rolled the snowball until it was much bigger than he was. As time went by, the six-year-old Dwobbit could no longer push it, becoming too big and heavy for him. Thorin helped him to push it so that it could grow even bigger and finally have the first big ball for the base of their ice sculpture.
“Now you can pack the snow with your little hands while Da' and I finish the last ball!”
The hobbit had already returned with a bucket containing straw, buttons and a carrot.
“I thought a bucket was more in keeping with the dwarves' helmets!”
Thorin smiled before continuing with the second ball for the smaller head and was supported by his lover in the final rolls to reinforce it. Frodo hummed a tune to accompany the joy of discovering snow, but also this type of work. With great delicacy, Bilbo and Thorin lifted the ball to attach it to the first one, to have the head of their icy dwarf. Thorin lifted Frodo to allow him the honor of placing the bucket on their creation's head. Bilbo gave him the buttons as he went along, like the carrot, so that his son could bring the dwarf to life. Thorin was in charge of the hay for the beard and gave him a big beard as well as big eyebrows. The ice dwarf was ready, all that was missing was a name!
“Now you must name this snow dwarf! “declared Thorin.
Back on the ground, Frodo detailed the dwarf-shaped snow from top to bottom and pondered the perfect name for him - a dwarf name!
“Fíli!”
“Your cousin the king will be happy to have the same name as a snow dwarf!” laughed Bilbo, holding back his laughter.
Thorin also laughed in Fíli's face at the fact that his little cousin had named his first snow dwarf after him even though they hadn't yet met.
“A ditty to send to Fíli to immortalize the moment! What do you say, my little gem? Can you help us find verses for the song to send to your cousin Fíli?”
Frodo was up for it, having been bathed in his two fathers' love of music and song since birth, and gradually acquiring the same spirit for composing little ritornellos. The three of them danced around the snow gnome, trying out different verses to build their winter song, their memorable song of a snowy Yuletide, a snowy Yuletide in the Shire.