#dymmo

Again Bilbo objected; he was starting to feel a little self-conscious about his contrariness, that didn't stop him from speaking up. “Now see here, we requested these rooms specifically to ensure that we would get the sunlight we need. Besides it hardly matters if we'll be leaving in a day or two.” “No!” Frodo shouted, jumping up from his chair. “Dad, they've only just arrived, please! And I still have so much to learn.” He turned to Bilbo with pleading eyes, which quickly hardened with anger, setting his brow in that telltale frown. Bilbo could practically see his heels digging in. “If you want to go back to the Shire, fine! Thorin will keep me safe. I’m not going!” He crossed his arms and stomped his broad foot emphatically. Even after seeing it coming, Bilbo still reeled as if Frodo had reached out and slapped him in the face. His expression shuttered. “We will discuss this. Later.” Frodo sat back down sullenly and took another helping of ham, chewing aggressively. “Dashatimê,” Thorin placed a broad hand on his son’s shoulder. “You must understand that your father’s primary concern is your safety, yes?” Frodo still looked mulish, but nodded. “He will have the final say in this matter, so we must demonstrate to him that you will have the proper protection here, under stone.” The rebellious look was slowly replaced with hope, until Thorin continued, “You are aware of the correct way to address your father. Demonstrate it now.” Frodo rose and shuffled back to his father, pressing his forehead to Bilbo’s sweetly. “I’m sorry, Dad. I spoke with disrespect. I’ll do better.” Bilbo gathered his boy up into a warm hug. These dwarrow certainly did know how to make a production of a simple apology, but it did feel rather nice to be shown such regard.