Frodo's Parents

Prologue

The sun was hanging high in the sky, and Bilbo Baggins was preparing for his 111th birthday party. It was almost picturesque, almost perfect, except there was one, not so tiny detail missing. Although, that was up to your perspective. For Bilbo, the detail was rather huge, because ever since his younger sister Gemma had died - there had been a huge hole in his heart where his love for her used to be.

A soft sigh escaped his lips, as he hobbled towards his desk. Gripping onto his chair for support, the now elder male felt a few tears slip down his cheeks. He knew Gemma, his sister, would have been a wonderful mother. She would have taken so much care of Frodo always. She had always dreamed of having a son, and she had loved him long before he was even born. She loved him even though she hardly got to see him, or hold him. Her beautiful, still youthful face came into his mind, and he whimpered slightly. She sure had been an amazing woman, so strong and carefree. He wiped at his teary eyes, hearing his nephew come in.

"Uncle...are you okay?" Frodo questioned, noticing his uncles red face.
"Yes," came Bilbo's simple reply, but be was not.
"Are you certain? You look like you've been crying" Frodo asked, sitting down on a chair.

Bilbo decided that Frodo was old enough to hear the story. He took one look at Frodo's face, and as usual, seen his sister's face flash before his eyes. He looked so much like her. He had her beautiful, big blue eyes, but his father's dark hair, and her height. Which was probably the thing that saved him the most when it came to fitting in at the Shire. Barely anyone knew his father was a Dwarf. Bilbo looked away from Frodo, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Frodo looked alarmed and rushed over to his unclee, "Bilbo, please, tell me what is bothering you. If you wish for me to cancel this party, I will!" he exclaimed, feeling saddened by his uncle's sudden change of mood. Bilbo shook his head.
"Let me show you...young man, because that's what you are now. A man."
Frodo looked so upset, his eyes fogging, but he followed his uncle nonetheless into the living room.

Bilbo stopped at a box, which had always been there, right under the window sill, but Frodo had never thought to open it. He always assumed it was filled with old papers, or writing supplies. Bilbo ran his hands over the top of the box, then opened it slowly. Inside, was many of Gemma's belongings. He had put them away as Frodo started to grow, in order to hide the truth from him. Why, he couldn't say. Maybe because it ached his heart so much to lose her, that he feared it would hurt Frodo as much too.

After he rooted through it a little bit, he found an artist's portrait of Gemma. A beautiful drawing, that really captured her innocence and her gentle personality. He smiled gently. He used to look at it all the time but, he stopped because it hurt too much. Now, though, he felt fond memories of her. He handed the portrait to Frodo, who kept his eyes on him, too scared to look.
"Look at her, you may recognise her in yourself."
Frodo slowly looked down at the painting in his hands, his eyes widening at the sight before him. The woman in the painting...she looked exactly like him, except her hair colour! She was blonde.

"Who is this...?" he asked lowly, confused.
"Take a guess" Bilbo said, his voice cracking.
Frodo looked up at his uncle, concerned, then back down at the painting, "it's my mother..."
A gentle smile formed on his face, brightening it up. It was the first time he had seen her. Bilbo nodded and continued to speak with a cracked voice.
"A beautiful, young woman she was...taken from us too soon. She wanted you to live. So desperately."

Frodo immediately felt guilty, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was smiling from ear to ear, sitting on a small, wooden stool, legs crossed. She was wearing a long, purple dress, and her long, blonde curls were in a fancy up-do, obviously for the painting.
"And my father...who was he?" he asked, hoping Bilbo knew the answer to his question. Bilbo wasn't sure how well he was going to take the truth.

"Your mother came on the quest with myself and the dwarves and...she fell in love with a certain dwarf prince" he said, rooting through the box once again. When he handed Frodo the drawing of the dwarf that he had obtained from his fellow dwarves after the battle, Frodo's eyes widened once again.
"Did he have dark hair?" he asked.
"Just like yours" Bilbo confirmed.

"My father was really a dwarf?"
Bilbo nodded, "you are taking this better than I thought."
"I guess I am" Frodo nodded in response. He had never had any idea about his parents, and now all of a sudden, Bilbo was telling him everything.

"So...my mother was your...sister?" Frodo asked.
Bilbo nodded once more, "hence the title uncle," he chuckled.
Frodo chuckled too, "thank you for telling me, but I want to know more. Start from the beginning" he begged.

Bilbo sat down on the armchair, remembering how Gemma had once sat there.
"Her name was Gemma" he began, "she had beautiful blue eyes, and blonde hair, like you can see in the painting. She was adventurous, and brave. Smart. Loyal. Funny. Loving. She always dreamed of being a mother, and it all started when..."

His mind then drifted off into story mode..and he began from the very beginning..