Dream of Gold

by LadyLC

Summary:

Upon the death of his cousins, Bilbo Baggins left his life in London behind to care for his orphaned nephew, Frodo, in Boston. After more than five years, Bilbo has accepted his quiet life of cooking and writing. When Frodo's professor appears at his door one day in need of a chaperone for the senior class trip to Erebor, Bilbo discovers that he might have one more adventure in him. Meanwhile, Thorin Oakenshield has devoted every day of the last twenty years to his family's kingdom; fifteen of them were spent in exile and the last five have been spent toiling to repair S.M.A.U.G.'s damage. Despairing of his heirs and hounded by his friends to look to his own happiness, Thorin believes that Erebor is the only comfort he needs.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Summer, 2007 – London, England

Bilbo Baggins was a quiet man, well-respected in his neighborhood and renowned within certain circles of the city. At almost 30 years old, he had been asked, no, begged, to bake pies and pastries for some of the most famous restaurants in London. He also just finished authoring his first cookbook, There and Bake Again, which was poised to hit the bestseller list in the next few weeks.  

This night in particular, he snored softly in his bed, dreaming of marzipan-encrusted cakes and apple-filled tarts. As he tugged the blankets tighter, a piercing ringtone woke him. Reaching blindly for the nightstand, Bilbo felt around for his mobile. “Hello?”

“Yes, please, is this Mr. Baggins?” A shaky female American voice asked.

“This is he. I’m sorry, who’s calling?” Bilbo glanced over at the clock to see that it was just after midnight.

“Mr. Baggins, I’m sorry…” she hesitated. “I’m Nina Lightfoot, Drogo and Primmy’s neighbor.” There was a swallowed snuffle on the line.

“Ms. Lightfoot? What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident, on the river.” After another awkward pause, she continued, “They…they didn’t make it. I’m sorry. Terribly sorry.”

Bilbo gasped, sat up, and swiped at the table lamp. “What? No…it can’t be…” He had just spoken to Drogo two nights ago. The older Baggins delighted in regaling Bilbo of twelve-year-old Frodo’s latest exploits, including plans for a weekend boating trip. The two men had tentatively planned for Bilbo to visit Massachusetts in September for a joint birthday party. Drogo always laughed that his son shared a birthday with his favorite cousin. “Wait, wait, what about Frodo?” Bilbo whispered.

Nina sniffed. “He’s unconscious, but the doctors are…cautiously optimistic. Please, Mr. Baggins, you must come at once. Frodo has no one else.”

“Of course, of course.” Bilbo rubbed his eyes. “I’ll start making arrangements immediately. I will call you as soon as I have a flight. May I reach you at this number?”

“Yes,” Nina replied, sounding more composed. “I am going to stay at the hospital for now but my husband, Theo, will be able to meet you at the airport.”

After murmuring his thanks and promising to talk to her soon, Bilbo ended the call. He looked blankly around the room, still stricken by the news and dazed by sleep. After a long moment, the grieving man dialed the mobile still in his hands. “Falco? It’s Bilbo. Sorry to call, but Drogo is dead and Frodo’s injured. I need you to make arrangements for me to fly to Boston on the first flight out tomorrow morning.”

Falco Chubb-Baggins, a distant cousin and Bilbo’s insomniac literary agent, expressed surprise and sorrow at the news. He pledged to take care of all of the details and told Bilbo he’d ring him back shortly.

After throwing a few items in his suitcase, Bilbo went downstairs to make a cup of tea and wait for Falco’s call.