King Under the Mountain

| Autumn | Bilbo, Thorin & Frodo

It was a bit of an overwhelming change, but it hardly seemed to bother Frodo much. Clearly it was scary, but other things were frequently moving through his mind. There wasn’t much time for melancholy… and perhaps he was a bit too young to be certain about what had happened. When the big Hobbit started talking again, - now to him - Frodo looked at him closer. He didn’t necessarily want to go any closer to the other, so remained where he was. It was the most hairy Hobbit he had ever seen… was it a woman? Its hair was utterly long and braided, but it looked very much like a male in the features… Frodo’s thoughts strayed from the situation for a brief moment, and he forgot to say anything at all (not that he would have said something anyway). It was when Bilbo began talking that he was pulled away from his thoughts. It reassured him a little to hear that he wasn’t a scary person - if Bilbo said so, it certainly had to be the truth. But he was hesitant to walk over to him. Instead, the young Hobbit just looked at him for a long while, before he spoke (and he even pronounced the name wrong) : “Hello, Throrin.” his small voice sounded.

"Adopted???" Thorin frowned, Bilbo never was one for asking permission from him, he should have known that adopting a child too, would be handled in such a manner. But, he did remind him of himself, with the dark hair and bright eyes, but very, very clearly a little hobbit. When young Frodo spoke, Thorin clutched at his own chest. That soft voice had stirred in him the same emotion as the day he'd held baby Kili in his arms. "Hello...Frodo." He smiled and eased himself down onto his knees, leaning heavily on the crutch. "It is a pleasure to meet you, young Frodo."

I hope your wish comes true!

| Autumn | Bilbo, Thorin & Frodo

Thorin could tell by the way that Bilbo held himself, the little fidget in his step, the little blink, the wiggle of his nose. He was up to something. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched him, whatever it was, it had to be as sweet as him. He shifted a little against his crutch. He wore a shirt of hobbit make (they’d had to have it tailored since none came large enough already) with the sleeves rolled to nearly his elbows and an open waistcoat. He wasn’t entirely adjusted to their clothing, and not at all to their ways, but he was trying. "I hope it is that you managed to get hold of those Proudfoot grown potatoes that you’ve been raving about, I’m quite keen to try them. You make them sound like food fit for a king." he chuckled, then winced a little as his old wounds moved, but he still smiled.

All while the scene had played out, Frodo had remained in the background, careful, not to make any sound. Just as Bilbo had told him. It was a mixture of manners and slight fright, that kept his lips sealed. It was all so new, large and different. Who was the other person, with the oddly rough voice? Their conversation didn’t mean much to the Hobbit-child. He was more curious as to what was about to happen to him. When his name sounded from Bilbo, whom he was hiding behind, Frodo understood that it was his cue, and peeked out from the cloak. Not much met his sight, at first. It was when he allowed himself to go out a bit further, that he saw the very large and hairy hobbit in front of him. It scared him some bit at first, but not enough. Instead, he insecurely looked up at his ‘uncle’, as if asking him what to do.

Thorin blinked at the tiny creature and took a step back, his eyes widening. "Wh...what is this?" He teetered on his crutch that hadn't quite come back enough with him. With that mess of dark curls and those gigantic eyes, it was an adorable little creature, but a bit too small, too delicate, like a pet. "I...is it a child?" He asked, a little more softly. He looked at Bilbo in confusion, was it his? Had Bilbo...? He frowned deeply, but looked down at the miniature hobbit again. "A-at your service."