Not All Tears Are An Evil by periantari

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The poor boy’s sobs echoed in his heart, and Bilbo could not find any words to say other than to stand by and embrace his poor cousin when he came to the funeral of Drogo and Primula once he had heard they had drowned in the boating accident.  He had known Drogo and Primula well and was so shaken up by the sudden death.  It had caught all the Brandybucks and Baggins off guard and the whole environment at Brandy Hall had changed drastically.  All relations wearing bright colors were wearing drab blue and dark green instead of yellow and bright colors.  The funeral had brought in many mourners.

Frodo’s eyes were downcast and he would take no rest and no food during the days before and after the funeral. Bilbo’s heart ached looking at his poor lad like this.

It reminded him when he grieved for the great Thorin Oakenshield.

Of course friends and parents are on different levels but grief is grief.

“My poor lad,” started Bilbo, gathering Frodo in his arms.

“HI, my dear uncle,” sniffed Frodo in a small voice.  He was exhausted from the loneliness he felt and glad that Bilbo was besides him at the moment. It would be soon that he would leave him again to Bag End.  He did not want that at all.

“This is a very sad moment in life and it doesn’t get worse than this, I assure you,” said Bilbo, handing Frodo some warm chamomile tea with honey with honey baked almond bread, straight from the oven.  “This will help keep you hydrated and I do not want a skinny hobbit-lad.  Eat and drink, and I’ll tell you a story.”

“I would love to hear a story,” said Frodo softly.  He was so preoccupied with his loss that he didn’t think there would be anything good in this world to look forward to anymore, but he did love Bilbo’s stories.  The honey bread smelled amazing.

“I was once part of an adventure, as I have told you bits and pieces of,” started Bilbo in a cheery voice.  “I went on a year-long adventure to the Lonely Mountain and back—“

“Where is the Lonely Mountain and why is it called that?” asked Frodo.  He was all ears now and the tea and bread were both delicious.

“Well it is very isolated for one thing, and it is occupied by a scary, fierce dragon named Smaug.  Now, this adventure was accompanying this very special dwarf named Thorin Oakenshield and his twelve companions,  Balin, Dwalin, Ori, Nori, Dori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Gloin, Oin, Fili and Kili, her sister-sons.  They were to reclaim their homeland, the Lonely Mountain or Erebor from the great, evil dragon, Smaug.  I was to be their burglar.”

“Why their burglar?” asked Frodo.

“Well, they needed stealing of the treasure, for one.  And, I am very good with my hands and can be quiet and sneak off and get what they need,” replied Bilbo.

Frodo smiled.  He had a hard time imagining Bilbo the sneak.

“Well, we traveled a long way, lad, and by the time we got there, we thought it was the end to just take the treasure.  No, that is not all that happened.  The dragon did die at the hands of a skilled archer from Lake-town named Bard, but that was the least of our troubles.  Goblins and Wild Wolves clashed against Men, Elves and Dwarves and fought a horrible battle called the Battle of the Five Armies.  It was a terrible battle.  I was knocked out but when I finally came to, my dear friends Thorin and his sister-sons, Fili and Kili had died in battle.  It was horrible, Frodo.  Death is horrible but you learn from death and you learn that you can eventually go on.  Thorin was a wonderful friend to me.  He showed me that dwarves are brave yet obstinate, loyal to a fault.  And that is what I miss the most about him.”  Bilbo looked away in tears.  “He gave me a mithril shirt, the worth of it more than the Shire!  I still keep in touch with Balin and Dwalin and the others but there is no one quite like Thorin Oakenshield in his desire to reclaim his father’s homeland, his dexterity in battle, but most importantly, his loyalty to his fellow dwarves… and me.”

“He told me, before he parted from Arda, that we should all value home , cheer and song above hoarded gold, and yes, it is important for song, poetry and a good book, I’ve realized, and that is why simple pleasures and relations like you are my most important treasure.”

Frodo looked at his uncle sympathetically.  “I’m sorry I did not meet this Thorin—he sounds like quite a dwarf.  I’ll miss my parents so much, Bilbo.  Does the pain ever subside?”

“No, it doesn't, my dearest lad, especially not now.  But you know I’m always here for you when you need it.  Grief will be easier with time though and know this: your parents loved you very much and would want you to enjoy your life again.  You have spirit in you, Frodo, you will be all right with time, believe that, my dear.”

“Yes, I know and I wished you could stay in Brandy Hall!”

“We’ll see what happens,” replied Bilbo with a twinkle in his eye.  “For now, you’re in good hands with so many relations, you’ll never feel lonely.”

With that, Bilbo began to sing a simple tune to a song that he just made up to Frodo as Frodo held on tightly, with tears still spilling out.

"You taught me the courage of stars before you left.
How light carries on endlessly, even after death. **

You taught me how to live, to smile…

And even if you’re not here, I’ll carry your memory forever on.

You taught me the courage of how to be the best person I can be,

You believed in all of me,

Never will I forget, never will you part,

 forever you are mine."





Chapter End Notes:

 **from the song Saturn's "Sleeping at Last", the rest of song is mine.

Title inspired by Gandalf's infamous quote "I will not say 'do not weep' for not all tears are an evil." And thanks to grey_wonderer for brainstorming the title with me! :)

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