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Bilbo Baggins was a respectable hobbit. Sure he had a few…quirks…that made others turn their heads, or stare. Of course that was before he had 13 dwarves inside his house, and certainly before he ran off to go on an adventure.
While the hobbit longed for home the entire journey, he made friends he hoped would last a lifetime. He also found the one thing he never thought would come knocking on his door.
Love.
Bilbo fell in love. He fell in love with the scenery, and the thrill. But he also fell in love with one particular dwarf. Thankfully, he returned the feeling. While they couldn’t court traditionally by either culture’s standards, they made their own way of courting.
And when they reached Lake-Town, they had a wedding. It was done purely so if either died in The Lonely Mountain, someone would receive their belongings.
Bilbo was happy that they wed then. His husband tried to denounce their marriage under the gold-sickness, but took that statement back when he was well. Except, the last time Bilbo saw his husband well was when he was dying.
So now, Bilbo Baggins journeys back to the Shire as a widower. He agreed to send letters to his new friends, but he knew that Bag End will forever seem hollow.
When the hobbit and wizard reached Rivendell, a party was in full swing. The elves were celebrating Smaug’s death. Lord Elrond agreed to housing the two travellers, and invited them to join the party. Bilbo tried, but he felt like he was celebrating that his husband and nephews had died. Plus he was a little nauseous from traveling.
That night, Bilbo retired to his guest room early. The hobbit was grateful to be sleeping in an actual bed, but wished he wasn’t alone. There was a knock at the door, Lord Elrond wished to speak with the little creature.
After sitting down, Elrond spoke with a wide smile, “Bilbo, why didn’t you tell me you were with child?”
Bilbo felt himself go pale, “I beg your pardon?”
“Did you not know?” The elvish lord looked honestly confused. “I apologize for telling you in such an improper manner. But you are, in fact, with child.”
The hobbit did have moments of sickness, but he felt similarly when his parents died. He wrapped his arms around his center, this was the last thing he had of his husband. The last son of Durin. Perhaps it’d be the last daughter of Durin. Bilbo didn’t find it in him to care. Tears welled up in his eyes as Lord Elrond left the room.
Bilbo dug up the gold they got from the troll hoard. The wizard insisted it’d be useful. And that proved to be the case. His own relatives were selling off his things. He grabbed his silverware collection before Lobelia could make it too far with them.
After proving he was Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, and buying back his own furniture, Bilbo looked around Bag End. It was empty. Not just because furniture was being brought in. No, it had something missing. Spirit. Joy. Merry people. Song.
Bilbo had been home for months, but his loneliness only grew. He was no longer a respectable hobbit. Between the dwarves, the adventure, and not following proper marriage etiquette, Bilbo had lost every drop of his reputation. Thankfully, Hamfast stayed. The gardener was Bilbo’s only Hobbit friend.
Now that his stomach wasn’t so easily concealed, he had to meet with the Thain. It was difficult to explain everything, but telling him to write to Erebor’s head advisor, Balin, made it easier. And when a raven and a letter showed up at Bag End’s door, Bilbo knew who it was.
Mister Baggins,
I am glad to hear that you’ve made it home safely! The ‘Thain,’ or whatever they are, asked me for evidence that you married. I made, and sent a copy of the marriage certificate to them along with a letter.
There is excellent news buzzing around Erebor—Ori, who was Fili’s One, is supposedly with child! While Dain is less than joyful, the company and Dis are quite happy that the line of Durin isn’t so easily broken.
We all miss you dearly, my dear hobbit friend. You are more than welcome to visit, or write, at any time. You are Erebor’s hero after all, and you’d technically be the consort since you married the king before he died.
With much gratitude, and friendship,
Balin, Erebor’s Head Advisor, and your friend
P.S. Bofur plans on sending you a letter. He asked me how much weight one bird can carry, so I’d be careful
Bilbo put the letter on his bedside table, and let himself cry. The raven cocked its head. Bilbo did write back, but it was a much shorter letter.
My good friend, Balin,
Please send my congratulations to Ori. I miss you all too, and I do hope to visit you someday. The entire company, as well as Dis and Ori’s child, are welcome in Bag End if you ever find yourselves in the Shire. You’ll always be welcomed.
Thank you so much for sending the Thain a copy. Hobbits are very particular about marriage—I know that seems surprising considering how I married.
With much friendship, gratitude, and love,
Bilbo Baggins, Hero of Erebor, Husband of Thorin Oakensheild
(P.S. thank you for the heads up, I’ll keep an eye out for Bofur’s letter.)
-~-
The night Bilbo’s babe came into the world was stressful. No one had any idea of when the child would’ve come, mixed race pregnancies were the hardest to track. He had Hamfast summon a midwife, who came as soon as she heard—even if all hobbits were able to bear, labor was especially hard on the males.
Bilbo didn’t have a big celebration for his 52nd birthday. He had tears, blood, sweat, and crying. But when his son finally let out a wail announcing his arrival, Bilbo thought he couldn’t get a better birthday present.
While holding the newborn, Bilbo whispered, “Frodo Baggins, son of Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain. You are the dwobbit of Bag End.”
The midwife stayed a few days while Bilbo recovered. Just after she left, and when Bilbo was able to walk on his own, a raven landed on his gate with a package and letter.
Bilbo Baggins, my dear friend!
I have made something for you to always remember Erebor and the company. It is a collection of wooden sculptures! I won’t spoil your gift anymore.
I know Balin already told you that you’re always welcome. And I want to reinforce that. You are always welcome. So are your letters, your gifts, and your family—if you manage to have a family after everything.
Ori is starting to truly show, and Dain gets a bit more unhappy every time he sees it. He’ll remain on the throne until Ori is trained to do everything since the babe is of Durin descent and no son of Durin is on the throne.
Ori misses you more than Balin and I combined, please visit soon. I believe we all want you to meet the last of the line of Durin.
Your dear toy maker friend,
Bofur
After reading the letter, the hobbit fed the bird and his son. Then he opened the small box the bird brought with it. Inside were 14 wooden figures, and a painted wood model of The Lonely Mountain. Each figure looked like a member of the company. He ran his fingers over the details on Thorin’s figure. How did they remember this much detail about him?
-~-
Frodo Baggins was now a child. He had lessons, and few friends, but was an outsider. The outcast. The hobbit without two parents. Bilbo tried to keep his boy safe, but as he learned as a young hobbit, faunts are ruthless.
One day, Frodo came home from playing with his friends with a black eye. Bilbo felt his blood boil at the sight of the bruise. The older hobbit placed a cold glass to the younger hobbit’s eye.
“Papa,” Frodo mumbled, “Why am I so different?”
“My dear Frodo,” Bilbo answered, “You are different because you are half dwarf, half hobbit. You are a child of Mahal, as well as a child of Yavanna.”
“So you’ve said a thousand times. But who is the dwavish parent? Why isn’t he around?” Frodo was angry. He didn't know who he was angry at, but he knew it wasn’t his Papa.
Bilbo frowned, and took his son’s hand. “Come with me, I will show you.”
In Bilbo’s room, there was a low shelf with Bofur’s gift on it. Grabbing the figure of Thorin, Bilbo explained, “This is your dwavish parent. Thorin Oalenshelid. He died before I even knew you were there.”
Frodo took the figure and held it like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “Do you think…” He whispered. “Do you think he’d be proud of me?”
“He’d be more proud of you than he was proud of himself. And he was the proudest person I’ve ever met.”
As the coal haired hobbit hobbit smiled at his papa, the only thing Bilbo saw was his late-husband. After hearing about his dwarvish father, Frodo wanted to know everything about the journey. Bilbo showed his son the mithril shirt, and Sting but told him not to touch them. Frodo saw the now half-empty chests of gold and silver, and the dwarvish clothing his papa wore home.
One afternoon, a knock came to Bag End’s door. Bilbo was expecting guests, so the home was unusually tidy. And the dining table had been moved. When Frodo saw 10 dwarves and a small child, he understood why.
Each dwarf greeted Bilbo with a hug, and gently hit their foreheads together. Except the one with the child, he greeted the master of Bag End by introducing the child. Kerli, son of Fili, son of Dis. Frodo thought introducing someone with who their parents are was strange.
When everyone was in the sitting room, Bilbo waved Frodo over to join them. The dwarves were confused on who this taller hobbit was—even more confused by the small curls developing on his chin.
“Everyone,” Bilbo announced, “This is my son, Frodo Baggins.”
Every dwarf was surprised, Bofur even asked why Bilbo never sent for any toys for the lad. Balin asked about “the wife” and where she was.
The older hobbit explained, “It doesn’t matter what gender a hobbit is, every hobbit is capable of bearing children.” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “Frodo is mine and Thorin’s son.”
Silence like no other filled the room.
Surprisingly, Ori was the one to break it. “Sounds like you need to be the one ruling Erebor until the lad is fully trained and of age.” Bilbo knew it was teasing, it was how his dwarves showed their hobbit love.
Frodo, however, didn’t know. And he was paler than the snow that always clung to The Lonely Mountain no matter the season. He called out, “I beg your pardon? What do you mean ‘rule Erebor,’ neither of us are noble?”
Bifur spoke in his mother tongue, and Bombur translated, “He says, ‘Thorin Oakensheild was king before he died,’ and that Bilbo may have forgotten to tell you that part.”
The coal haired hobbit fainted much like his papa did when reading the contract to join the company. When he came to, Oin was making sure he didn’t injure his head. Kerli asked about how his cousin was.
Bilbo looked the most worried, but also the most apologetic. While cleaning up supper, Bilbo apologized, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you of Thorin’s title, I wanted to protect you from the dangers that come with that title.”
“Papa, it’s in the past.” Frodo chuckled. “I’m more annoyed at the fact you didn’t tell me I have two cousins, and one cousin once removed.”
“Frankly, I was worried about how you’d react to learning that both of your first cousins died the same day your other father did.” Bilbo confessed. “I believe I spoke of Ori and his child, and that they were technically your cousins as well.”
The next morning, Bag End was full. It had spirit, joy, many merry people, and song. Frodo invited his cousin, Kerli, to join his friends as they ran around Hobbiton. Bilbo was worried for both boys’ safety until Dwalin agreed to watch them.
While the dwarves enjoyed their visit, Bilbo spoke of a book he was writing, There and Back Again. It was their adventure. It was the memory of Thorin, Fili, and Kili.
Bilbo looked at the mithril shirt Thorin gifted him. I still keep your gifts and memory, Thorin. One day it may be of use to our son. You can still protect him from Mahal’s halls. He wondered what Frodo had laying in his future. But that was not now.
And what Frodo would do as he grew is a story for another time.