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The Early Adventures of Fwo and Unga Bee  by cpsings4him

"The Early Adventures of Fwo and Unga Bee"


Chapter 3 - "Adventures in Waking"


Bilbo dropped in a last palm full of salt and covered the pot with its lid. He was feeling quite pleased with himself at all he had managed to accomplish in the last hour and a half since he had put Frodo down for a nap. Many times, his stealthy hobbit feet had carried him down the hall to his bedroom to check on the lad. Each time that Bilbo peered in, his eyes were treated to a picture of what pure bliss surely looked like. Still safely ensconced in a surrounding wall of pillows, Frodo lay sleeping on his belly, long dark lashes pressed into his soft, round baby cheeks, flushed pink with deep slumber. At intervals, his rosebud lips, pressed slightly open against the coverlet, worked at the little thumb that had found it's familiar way into his mouth soon after Bilbo had put him down. Once when he'd entered, Bilbo found that Frodo had managed somehow to kick off the quilt that had been laid over him to protect him from any drafts that might find their way in to chill his sleeping form. The toddler had fussed just a small bit, with rooting and small whimpers, as the quilt had been laid back over him, but Bilbo's gentle hand laid against his back giving light pats had been the only encouragement required to send him swiftly back to his deep slumber.

In between his trips down the hall to his bedroom, Bilbo had managed to not only get his kitchen cleared up and back in working order (no small task after the second breakfast pancake disaster), but had also managed to get a pot of soup, creamy chicken and mushroom with baby carrots and leeks, put together and now simmering nicely on the back of the stove. The soup would serve as dinner for he and Frodo and if the savory smell now wafting to his nose was any indication, would serve quite well, indeed.

He checked the flame on the stove once more to make sure it wasn't burning too strongly, and satisfied that it wasn't, took up the dishcloth to clean up the few drips of soup he'd sloshed onto the stovetop as he'd stirred. As he did, he felt a gentle nudge against his ankle from a softly furred head. Obviously, the sharp nose attached to that furry head was also under the spell of the wonderful aroma now wafting from the pot.

"Well, puss...what've you got to say for yourself, hmm? Caused quite an uproar this morning, didn't you?" Bilbo addressed the feline at his feet.

"Mrreow?" Mr. Peeper cooed his innocent reply.

"Yes. You. Ah, well. I suppose you learned from the best - uproar causing, that is. Meaning myself, of course. At least you came by it honestly. But do you suppose you could try to behave yourself for the rest of my nephew's visit?" Bilbo's voice was mock stern annoyance as he addressed the errant cat.

Looking down, Bilbo was amused to note that the cat was orbiting him in much the same way Frodo had earlier. The chastised feline gave his ankles a rub at each pass, the soft fur, caressing him in cool, smooth apology.

"All right, all right. No need for all THAT groveling. You're forgiven. I know you didn't mean to cause such an upset. Don't worry - you'll still get your fair serving of the soup." Bilbo looked down into the whiskered face. "Oh, don't look so innocent. I know where your mind truly is - where it always is - on your belly!"

Giving the now clean stove a final swipe, Bilbo tossed the dishcloth back into the wash basin and dried his hands on a towel hanging from the drawer pull of one of his built in drawers (one of the many wonders and envies of Bag End). Putting hands on hips and stretching his back a bit, Bilbo looked around and surveyed his work.

"Well, I suppose that's about all I can do in here at the moment." Bilbo spoke his thoughts aloud.

Mr. Peeper often wondered whom this chatty hobbit had spoken to before he had come along to be his listener. Charitably, he spared him a look as he lazily set about the cleaning of one white forepaw.

"This soup will make us a good dinner, but I don't believe I shall attempt anything more complicated than cheese toast for elevenses and perhaps cold ham sandwiches for afternoon tea. Not with Frodo awake, at any rate. Wonderful boy, but he can be a distraction when you're trying to cook, and no doubt about that!" Bilbo went on with his monologue. "Perhaps some fruit to fill in the corners, too..." Bilbo mused, then glancing at the wall clock declared it time to go check on the boy again.

Bilbo was as silent as ever as he made his way down the hall, gently pushing the door open to minimize the squeaking. As he peered in this time however, his eyes were met not by blissful, sleeping hobbit toddler, but by, newly awoken hobbit toddler. Still surrounded by the wall of pillows and half covered in the blanket, Frodo sat up in the middle of the bed. Sleepily he sat silently blinking and looking a bit confused, his lips slightly pursed, as he tried to get his bearings back. His hair went in every direction, and all at once, even more tousled than usual. Still rosey from his sleep, his right cheek bore a slight imprint of the stitching in the coverlet. As Bilbo watched, the baby yawned cavernously, nearly splitting his face, following it up with a soft sigh.

"Well hello, my little lad." Bilbo spoke softly from the doorway as not to startle the child. "Did you have a nice nap?"

At hearing Bilbo's voice, Frodo turned his head, looking pleasantly surprised to see his uncle standing in the doorway. Without words, his lips formed a tiny, still very sleepy smile even as he extended his hands and arms toward his uncle, in a gesture that said unmistakably, "get me".

Bilbo crossed the distance of the room in only a few strides and eagerly lifted the lad into his arms. Immediately, Frodo burrowed his warm little body against him and laid his head down on his chest. Bilbo chuckled and carried him from his bedroom into the front parlor where he sat down and leaned back in his favorite, overstuffed chair. Frodo's little knees bent in a kneel on either side of his uncle's waist as he pulled his feet under himself, small pink toes peeking out from beneath his bottom. Bilbo remembered, that from his earliest infancy, Frodo had been very slow to wake and very much enjoyed a quiet cuddle upon first wakening.

"Didn't quite get your nap out, my lad?" Bilbo questioned the still silent toddler in his arms softly. Frodo only sighed and nuzzled closer to him.

"Did you have nice dreams?" Bilbo's voice was still quiet and soothing.

Frodo's head slowly nodded his answer against Bilbo's chest as he launched into another yawn, followed by a sigh.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a rusty whisper and weak with sleep. " 'Nugga me, Unga Bee."

Bilbo wrapped his arms tighter about the lad, trying to comply with the request, but apparently, he wasn't doing it correctly.

"No, no, no, Unga Bee. Na' wike dat. Wike dis." Frodo's little voice was still groggy, eyelids still heavy.

Sitting up a bit, he took one of Bilbo's hands and laid it against the small of his own back and demonstrated that he was to pat. Then, taking the other hand, he laid it against his head and snuggled under, nestling his cheek against the warm palm, as his head was pressed once more against his uncle's chest, his little arms pulled under himself for warmth, hands folded together under his chin. Bilbo chuckled as he allowed himself to be correctly positioned for Frodo snuggling.

"Have it down to an art, don't you, my lad?" Bilbo teased, gently.

Frodo sighed contentedly. "Um-hm."

Bilbo only grinned, giving the lad a slight squeeze and pressing a soft kiss into the top of the tousled head that was resting just below his chin. He took his nephew's cue and just enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment. He was sure it wouldn't last long. Several moments passed in silence and Bilbo began to wonder if Frodo hadn't gone back to sleep, but a quick tilt of his head to glance down at his nephew's face revealed the lad's large blue eyes to be open and aware, though still a bit glazed with sleep.

"Unga Bee?" The rusty little voice finally broke the silence.

"Yes, lad?" Bilbo answered him quietly, never breaking his snuggle hold.

" 'Ou 'nugga pwetty dood." Frodo answered from still beneath his uncle's warm hand. His little voice sounded impressed.

Bilbo chuckled, "Do I,now?"

"Um-hm." Frodo was sincere. Then added, "Bu' nee' moah pwadise. Teep 'nugga Fwo."

"Oh! I Need more practice?" Bilbo tried hard to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Um-hm." Frodo's head, still situated beneath his uncle's palm nodded slightly.

"I should keep snuggling until I get it right, hmm?" The mirth was harder and harder to hold in under Frodo's absolute sincerity.

" 'Es. Teep 'nugga Fwo." The toddler instructed.

"Well, do you suppose I'll ever get it just right?" Bilbo tried to sound worried.

"Um-hm. Fwo he'p 'ou. Teep 'nugga." Bilbo's snuggle instructor commanded.

Bilbo didn't think he could manage to say anything without laughing and therefore stayed silent and continued to 'practice'.

"Na' fo'det pat." Frodo instructed quietly after several heartbeats had gone by with no patting.

Bilbo could help it no longer. His shoulders shook with silent laughter, but if Frodo was aware of the humor, he didn't show it.

"Thank you for reminding me, my boy. Thank you for reminding me." Bilbo chuckled when he finally was able to speak again, patting the little back as he'd been commanded.

"We'tome." Frodo said politely, sounding a bit more awake now.

After just another moment, the toddler sat up from the snuggle just a bit, rubbing his sleepy eyes and giving another giant yawn as he did, this time accompanied by a stretch. The little arms reached far over the toddler's head as he arched his back and straitened his legs, grunting, straining and squeeking with the effort even as he was overcome by another yawn. Without warning, Frodo flopped his body down lengthwise in Bilbo's lap, resting his head on his uncle's knees, his own legs propped against Bilbo's chest, a small downy foot perched on each shoulder.

"Comfortable, my lad?" Bilbo sarcastically asked the small hobbit who had taken over his lap as a temporary bed.

"Um-hm." Frodo grinned and nodded his tousled head from its position on his uncle's knees, which were currently serving as his pillow. Big blue eyes beamed up into the face between his two feet as he let his toes list sideways to nudge against his uncle's ears.

"Well I do wish you'd make yourself at home, dear boy, and stop being so well mannered and formal!" Bilbo's sarcasm was softened by the smile of genuine amused affection that graced both his mouth and his eyes.

Frodo giggled, though he wasn't quite sure why, only that his uncle seemed amused and quite jolly. Bilbo watched his nephew's face as he giggled, noting the small red tongue that came to rest just below and slightly behind his top front teeth as he grinned and laughed as only very small children can. He watched the play of the dimple on the toddler's left cheek as he grinned back at his nephew, still stretched out lazily in his lap. As Bilbo watched, the darkly fringed eyes were laughing as well, inadequately concealing the flicker of impish mischief that played suddenly in their blue depths. Before he could wonder what his nephew was up to, Bilbo felt the slight weight of the small feet lift suddenly from his shoulders, only to come to rest again - over his eyes.

"Peet-a-boo, Unga Bee! 'Dess who!" Frodo exclaimed from his uncle's lap, his small feet covering Bilbo's eyes lightly.

Bilbo's hands came up to wrap lightly around each small foot, but did not remove them from his eyes, deciding instead to play along with Frodo's little game.

"Hmm...well...let me see." The older hobbit pretended to be confused. "Could it be...Mr. Peeper?" Bilbo guessed.

"Nnno! Na' Mistah Peepah!" Frodo giggled, delighted that Bilbo had guessed incorrectly.

"Oh, dear. Hmm. Not Mr. Peeper." Bilbo mused, pretending to think hard, feeling the little toes in his hands wriggling excitedly. "Well then, perhaps it's the baby bear, escaped from your tummy?" He tried again.

"No, Unga Bee! Bebe Beaw 'till in Fwo Bewwy! Dess adin!" Frodo's mirth tumbled forth in a ringing laugh.

"Oh! I know!" Bilbo exclaimed. "If it's not Mr. Peeper, and it's not the baby bear, escaped from Frodo's belly, then it must be - " and here Bilbo paused for greater effect.

Frodo was practically trembling with excited anticipation. "Who, Unga Bee? Who?" The toddler broke in.

Bilbo measured each word. "My. Little." Another dramatic pause. Bilbo could feel Frodo's excitement. Finally, he burst forth with the last word. "Frodo!"

Frodo's giggle rang throughout the tiled halls of the smial as cried out, " 'Ou dessed, Unga Bee! It Fwo!"

Bilbo pulled the little feet away from his eyes but didn't let them go. He grinned mischievously down at his nephew, still stretched out in his lap.

The surprise in his voice was fiend as he exclaimed, "Oh my! So it is my Frodo lad! Well, what do you know! My gracious but I'm so glad to see that lad that I think I shall have to...just..." Bilbo paused dramatically again. He was quite enjoying this.

"Dust wha', Unga Bee?" Frodo couldn't stand the waiting.

Bilbo made him wait no more. "Eat! Him! UP!" The older hobbit exclaimed then launched into a mock growl as he ran playful nibbles, which were really more like kisses, down the length of Frodo's little calves and at his feet and toes.

Frodo was wonderfully frantic trying to get away, but laughing so hard he could manage no more than a jerky wiggle. As soon as he nearly had one foot freed from his uncle's grasp, Bilbo would switch to nibbling and growling at the other leg and foot, causing Frodo to put his whole concentration (what little of it wasn't taken up with laughing and squealing) on trying to free that foot. The nearly lost foot would be recaptured in the process. Bilbo was laughing almost as hard as his nephew.

In between the ferocious mock growls, Bilbo muttered small phrases regarding the tastiness of his nephew. "Mmmm! Oh my! This boy is so sweet! I do believe I will eat up every inch of him!"

During the small moments that Frodo could catch his breath enough, he would exclaim, "No! No! No! Unga Bee! Na' ea' me up!" Until he fell again into helpless laughter.

Finally Bilbo grew so tickled at his nephew he had to pause to catch his breath as well. Frodo lay bonelessly back in his uncle's lap, allowing his head to fall back over Bilbo's knees so that he was viewing the world from an upside down perspective. The baby panted as he tried to catch his breath during the reprieve.

"No moah, Unga Bee!" he panted.

Bilbo, who was also panting a bit, looked down into his nephew's face, flushed red from his laughter. "No more? Aww, but lad, you're so sweet I just want to eat you up!"

"Bu', Unga Bee!" Frodo protested. "If 'ou ea' me up, I be awl doan! No moah Fwo!" He said pointedly, gesturing "all gone" by turning his empty palms up toward his uncle.

"Oh dear!" Bilbo's face was a perfect imitation of shocked horror. "I suppose that's right now that you mention. If I eat you up, you will be all gone. And then what would I do without my Frodo?" Bilbo asked the toddler in his lap.

"Don' know, Unga Bee. Na' ma'e Fwo awl doan. Pease, Unga Bee." Frodo plead, not only with his little voice, but with is eyes as well.

If Bilbo had ever had any true intentions of eating his nephew up, they would have surely all fled in the instant Frodo turned those eyes on him. Mercy, but how would they ever be able to discipline this lad when the need came? Those eyes were enough to slay the heart of the most ferocious dragon or the hardest troll!

"Oh, well - of course I can't have that, now can I? I simply can't get along without my Frodo-lad." Bilbo assured his nephew as he let go of the little feet.

Frodo gave a slight sigh of relief and allowed himself to go even more boneless in Bilbo's lap, arching his back and hanging his head even farther over his uncle's knees. Before he knew what was happening, all of his view, upside-down as it was, was filled with a furry, whiskered face, tiny pink nose sniffing at his own, whiskers tickling so much that Frodo had to bring his hands up to scrub at his nose.

"'Lo, tee-tat!" he giggled.

Above him, Bilbo sat watching the scene. As Frodo brought his hands up to his face, his shirt became untucked from his breeks a bit, revealing a soft, white belly beneath. The temptation was just too much for Bilbo to resist. Mischief flickered in his eyes.

"Oh, my. Just look at that little belly." Bilbo declared.

Frodo turned questioning eyes up at his uncle, but didn't voice the query. He didn't have time.

"I'm sorry, my boy...but I really must have just a little taste. Far too sweet to pass up, don't you know?" And with that, Bilbo began blowing raspberries on Frodo's belly for all he was worth, using his nose to burrow into all of Frodo's most ticklish spots.

"Aaaaaaaaggghh! Unga Bee?!? Wha' doin'?" The toddler squealed around his laughter. "Mistah Peepah, he'p!" The toddler cried out to his new friend for assistance.

But Mr. Peeper was no where to be found, having taken his exit at the first squeal of protest from Frodo, running to hide behind the overstuffed chair in the corner of the parlor. He didn't wish to risk his supper being in danger by being perceived to be involved in any more trouble.

Bilbo continued his attack on Frodo's belly as his nephew slapped at him with ineffectual small hands, even as he laughed. Often, not wishing to cause his nephew any distress, Bilbo stopped for several seconds to make sure they were BOTH still having fun. Each time he stopped Frodo panted as he continued giggling, looking up at his uncle with an expression that told Bilbo that his nephew was indeed having a wonderful time, and clearly invited more of this type of play - despite his words of protest.

Finally, Bilbo had mercy on his poor nephew who had turned crimson, both from hanging upside-down as well as from laughing so hard. He didn't want to make the lad sick, so he stopped his raspberry blowing and gently scooped his nephew back up into a sitting position, pulling him into a hug as he did.

"Come here, lad." Bilbo murmured softly as he drew his nephew up to him.

Frodo lay panting against his uncle's neck.

"'Ou vewy bad, Unga Bee." Frodo panted close to his ear.

"I am, aren't I, lad?" Bilbo chuckled.

" 'es, 'ou are, Unga Bee." The toddler readily agreed with an emphatic nod of his head, but did nothing to try to remove himself from his 'very bad' uncle's embrace. Bilbo felt little fingers twine themselves into his hair as the baby's arms went around his neck.

"I'm sorry, my little lad. Can you forgive me?" Bilbo's voice was repentant.

"'es. I fordibe 'ou." Frodo said generously.

"I promise I'll be good from now on. I won't try to take any more nibbles from you." Bilbo vowed.

"No moah nibbas?" Frodo asked, sounding more than a bit disappointed.

"No. No more nibbling on my Frodo lad. I promised." Bilbo confirmed with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Oh." Frodo's disappointment was palpable. "Bu', Unga Bee...I so sweet!"

"Yes, yes, lad. You are that. You are that. But, I simply must resist. I mustn't nibble on my little lad, I'm afraid...no matter how sweet he is. Wouldn't want him to be all gone!" Bilbo sounded determined.

"Na' eben dus' a itta nibba?" Frodo asked raising his head to look at his uncle's face as he gestured "little" with his pinched thumb and index finger, raising it to be directly in front of his uncle's line of vision.

Bilbo tried to hide his amusement and look stern, shaking his head in the negative as he said, "No, lad."

Frodo pouted his lower lip and furrowed his brow in disappointment as he laid his head back on Bilbo's shoulder in defeat. Bilbo was glad, for he could hardly keep the smile of amusement from his face. This boy was just too much!

Frodo was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Unga Bee?" Frodo asked softly, his chin still resting on Bilbo's shoulder.

"Um?" Bilbo answered, cutting his eyes toward the direction of his nephew's voice.

"I dwowing." Frodo replied.

Bilbo was a bit confused. "You're growing?" he asked.

"Um-hm. Mummy say." Frodo replied, as though that explained everything.

"Well, yes. You are growing...and like a weed I'd say - fast!" Bilbo agreed giving the little one in his arms a slight squeeze, realizing he wouldn't be able to hold Frodo like this for very much longer. Why, it seemed only last week that he'd first held a tiny newborn Frodo in his arms.

"Fwo dwow fas'." Frodo declared. "Unga Bee nibba swow. Na' ma'e Fwo awl doan, see?" Frodo explained raising up with his arms still around Bilbo's neck, looking at his uncle's face.

Slow understanding spread across Bilbo's face. He grinned conspiratorially down at his nephew.

"Ohhh. I see. If I nibble slowly, you can grow faster than I nibble and that way, I won't make you all gone. Is that right?" Bilbo asked his nephew.

"Uh-huh." Frodo grinned back, nodding, then looked at his uncle seriously. "Unga Bee?"

"Yes, my lad?" Bilbo said, putting on a serious face of his own.

"Are 'ou sweet?" Frodo asked.

Bilbo chuckled. "Well, I don't really know, lad. I've never taken a nibble of myself."

"Fwo twy an' see." Frodo declared, then launched himself against his uncle's cheek in a pretty good imitation of his uncle's nibble kisses. He threw in a mock growl of his own for good measure.

Bilbo laughed outright as Frodo nibbled his way up to his uncle's ear, tickling with his nose as he did. Frodo suddenly stopped and looked at his uncle.

"Well, lad? How was I?" Bilbo asked.

Frodo grinned before he answered. "Unga Bee yummy! Fwo nibba so'e moah!" And with that, launched himself against his uncle's neck, growling and nibbling gently.

Soon, both were laughing so hard their sides began to ache.

Breathlessly, Bilbo declared, "Frodo lad, you mustn't nibble to quickly. You uncle's not growing like you are. You'll make me all gone if you're not careful!" Bilbo grinned and gave his nephew, who had turned to rest his head against the crook of his Bilbo's elbow, a gentle squeeze.

"Ooh! I nibba swow! Na' ma'e Unga Bee awl doan!" Frodo assured his uncle.

For several moments, the pair sat just resting and listening to the now silent smial. Suddenly, in the quiet, Frodo's tummy rumbled, reminding them that it was time for elevenses.

As his tummy growled, Frodo looked up at his uncle, surprised. "Uh-oh, Unga Bee! 'Ou waked up bebe beaw!" He whispered.

"Well then," Bilbo said, making his eyes wide, "We better get him fed, hadn't we?" Bilbo gently touched his nephew's nose with his index finger.

Bilbo rose, with the slight burden of Frodo in his arms, heading back toward the kitchen. Mr. Peeper ventured a peek from his position beneath the chair, and ran after them; off to see what adventures would await this pair next.

TBC! 





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