a young frodo took a seat next to his uncle bilbo and sighed a deep, long sigh. they had come a long way since frodo had first arrived at erebor and he grew to love his uncle and call erebor home very quickly, but every now and again, he still found himself missing the shire. â uncle bilbo..? â the young hobbit spoke at last. â why didn't they want me? â
HE HATED THIS QUESTION . he really, truly did .
nothing to do with his young charge , of course . frodo had done NOTHING wrong , didnât deserve the treatment heâd received from his compatriots in the shire , and bilbo could think of nothing heâd like more than to smack all of them upside the HEAD for causing this YOUNG FAUNT any more pain . yes ; heâd come to think of frodo as his own , as his family , as his favorite ( very well , perhaps he shouldnât play favorites between two dwarves and a fauntling ) nephew . but a HOBBIT is a hobbit after all, and he knows he canât quite compare to all the attention that the shire often bestows upon its more beloved faunts.
â have you ever noticed , frodo , that EVERYONE in the shire acts the same ? â bilbo began weaving his fingers through dark curls , an EFFORT to calm his nephew while such a weighty topic bore down on both their shoulders . â they donât like it , you see . if youâre different . and you ARE , my love . youâre more resilient , more creative , and far SMARTER than any of those in the shire combined . I want you to remember that , frodo . promise me ? this is important , my lad . itâs good to be different , and those of us in erebor LOVE you for it . â