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The Company was utterly obsessed with Frodo, and each of them had their favorite way of spending time with the tiny dwobbit: Nori, Fili, and Kili got a real kick out of tickling little Frodo whenever the opportunity presented itself, delighting in the excited squeals they coaxed from him. Dis, Bombur, Balin, and Dori showered Frodo with gentler attention, softly rocking and cooing at him whenever it was their turn to claim the baby for a couple of hours. Bofur, Bifur, and Ori loved gifting toys and clothing, and Oin and Gloin enjoyed singing sweet songs to the babe.
Tauriel was still one of Frodo’s favorite people to be carried by; he simply beamed every time the elf maiden had him in her embrace, and she met each one of the babe’s smiles with one of her own. A single look into his adorably big blue eyes was enough to ensnare the adoration of even the mightiest warriors. Speaking of mighty warriors, Dwalin had turned into a real teddy bear around their company’s newest addition. “He smiled at me!” Dwalin giggled, having spent the better part of an hour making funny faces at Frodo in hopes of coaxing any happy reaction. Thorin paused his paperwork and looked down at the bundled baby swaddled close to his chest, chuckling at the gummy smile and excited sounds coming from his son.
“You sure he isn’t laughing at you, Dwalin? You look like an idiot making all those faces.” “Idiot? At least I’m getting results! Look at that face, Thorin, how could you not want to see it smile? Besides, the wee pebble has better taste in company than you do,” Dwalin shot back with a mischievous grin. Thorin snorted, “If he keeps you as his company, he’ll be growing a beard and wielding an axe before we know it.” Dwalin chuckled and held his hand up to Frodo, a single calloused finger of his being snagged by chubby little hands. “If he does, it’s only because he has a proper role model. Unlike his da, who hides behind paperwork!” Thorin rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched upward.
Dwalin’s teasing always made the long days easier, and even more so now, when Frodo’s laughter was their reward. Since his son’s birth, Thorin had tried to make more time for Bilbo and Frodo, requesting that he take care of all his paperwork in his bedchambers rather than his office. Dwalin, his personal guard and closest friend, insisted on guarding Thorin from within his bedchambers whenever Frodo was around, claiming he was ‘ensuring the King’s safety,’ but anyone with a brain knew why the gruff dwarf insisted on the change.
Thorin and Bilbo adored how their friends and family showered their boy with affection, and not only did Frodo receive this love and attention, but their two steadily growing acorns in Bilbo’s garden were visited every day by at least one company member. The acorns had an around-the-clock guard, ensuring their safety, and they were always spoken to, sung to, or simply accompanied by a member of the Company, each one thrilled at the thought of the babies’ future arrival.
Much later, when documents were pushed aside and Dwalin reluctantly gave his king some time alone with the Company baby, Bilbo returned from tending to his garden covered in dirt. Thorin loved seeing Bilbo like this, his freckles more prominent from the sun exposure, his curly hair tousled from gardening, and the tired yet satisfied smile that painted his hobbit’s face after a day of hard work. Bilbo greeted his husband and son with a kiss, the dwarf and dwobbit enjoying each other’s company on the bed. “I missed you both terribly in the time I was gone,” Bilbo said as he undressed to take a much-needed bath. Thorin pretended to pout when Bilbo looked at him. “We missed you more, Amral. Dwalin distracted this little one with his ridiculousness, but I had no such entertainment.”
Bilbo chuckled as he divested his last piece of clothing. “He did the faces again, didn’t he?” Thorin grinned at the memory of his best friend acting a fool earlier in the day. “He made those faces for an hour, my heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and the rest of our family plan to steal Frodo from us. I think they’re a bit obsessed with him,” Thorin quipped, glancing at Frodo, who was busy shoving his entire fist into his mouth, drool covering his chin and neck. Bilbo stepped closer to his little family and giggled at the sight of his son eating his hand.
Frodo shifted his gaze from Thorin to Bilbo and beamed at seeing his father, his drool-covered hands reaching up at him. Not wanting to get his son dirty, Bilbo ducked the small fists and pressed a kiss to Frodo’s head. “Who wouldn’t be obsessed with our little wonder, my love?” Bilbo whispered and turned to the washroom, but not before sparing Thorin a kiss of his own. The sight of his father’s kissing seemed to amuse Frodo, and he happily squealed, kicking his feet and reaching for his parents with tiny hands. Both Thorin and Bilbo giggled at their boy, and Bilbo made his way to wash up, leaving Thorin and Frodo in their bedroom.
Thorin spent the following minutes making the same silly faces he had teased Dwalin for earlier and was rewarded with more gummy smiles, delighted squeals, and the flailing of Frodo’s chubby legs. He continued this until Bilbo finished his bath; his hobbit husband quickly dressed in his nightclothes and fetched a bottle of milk for their ever-hungry babe. Bilbo climbed into bed, and Thorin cradled Frodo close, feeding him the bottle until only bubbles of milk remained.
Once fed and burped, Thorin shifted Frodo into a more comfortable position, covering him in one of Ori’s gifted baby blankets and placing a plush pillow below his arm so his son rested comfortably. Bilbo leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Thorin and leaning his head on his dwarf’s shoulder. Bilbo saw Frodo’s blue eyes blinking slower and lazier with each passing second and began to sing their son a lullaby.
Thorin instantly recognized the lullaby as one Bilbo had sung to him not long before Frodo’s birth, mentioning how his mother used to sing it to him every night before bed. His attention was split between his half-asleep son and his husband’s soft tenor voice, with each gentle word that poured from Bilbo’s mouth drawing more of Thorin’s notice. He listened in rapt fascination at the lullaby, the words simple yet comforting, and his hobbit’s voice his favorite sound in the world. Bilbo gazed up at Thorin and continued singing…
“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly,
Lavender's green.
When you are King, dilly dilly,
I shall be Queen.”
Thorin looked down and saw Frodo’s little lashes fluttering closed as the song carried on, milk slowly drying on his chin and his small face entirely content in the warmth and song surrounding him. Thorin was sure he probably looked ridiculous with his smile that stretched from ear to ear, but how could he not smile in this moment? His baby boy was happy in his arms and the love of his life, his One, his Bilbo, nuzzled into his side and singing with his beautiful voice. In this moment, Thorin was sure of it; he was the luckiest dwarf on all of Middle-Earth. Bilbo pressed a kiss to Thorin’s neck in between verses, and quietly concluded his lullaby as their son was claimed by sleep…
“Lavender's green, dilly dilly,
Lavender's blue.
If you love me, dilly dilly,
I will love you.”