F/S implied, all ages.
Once upon a time there was a hobbit named Bilbo who lived in a grand smial
named Bag End.He hoped to find an heir suitable to take on the Baggins name, and many
young members of his large family came to visit, hoping to be named as his heir. But after each visit he sighed with disappointment. "That was not a *real* Baggins!" he said.One night there was a terrible storm, with drumming thunder and torrents of
rain. Bilbo was reading in the parlour when he heard a knocking at the door. He hurried to the door and opened it to see a shivering, slender, dark-haired hobbit."I am Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo," the hobbit said, shivering. "I was on my
way to Brandy Hall but the lightning scared my pony, and he threw me, and ran off. I have lost everything I had with me. Would you please let me stay here tonight?""Of course, lad," said Bilbo, lighting a candle. “Erm, are you a real
Baggins?”"I am indeed," said the young lad. "Part Took, part Brandybuck, but still a
Baggins. You’re my uncle I believe.""Hmm," said Bilbo, and led Frodo to his parlour, giving him a dry nightgown
and some hot tea and muffins. Frodo showed a great deal of attention to his books. “Seems respectable enough,” Bilbo told himself. “But a strange one.He doesn’t look like a real Baggins. We must find out if he is telling the
truth.” Then he went to the bedroom where Frodo would sleep.He piled the bed up with twenty mattresses, five silk bolsters, a feather
bed, and ten cotton quilts. Then he placed a single dried mushroom under all the mattresses. That was where Frodo was to sleep that night. The next morning Bilbo woke at eight o’clock and came into the kitchen to see Frodo by the fire making toast."How did you sleep?" Bilbo enquired.
"Hardly at all," Frodo admitted. "There was something in my bed."
"Ah!" said Bilbo delightedly. “You found the dried mushroom?”
"Er, no," said Frodo, blushing. "I mean, I did notice the scent, but I was
distracted by er.. oh, never mind.."At that moment Mr Bilbo’s gardener Samwise moved sideways into the kitchen.
He looked thoroughly tousled, and smelled distinctly of lavender oil. Bilbo smirked.
"Here at last is my real Baggins," he said. "Nobody but a real Baggins would
prefer shagging the gardener to eating a mushroom."So Frodo became Bilbo’s heir, and lived happily in Bag End with him and Sam.
Frodo never told his uncle that he was used to sharing a bed full of randy
cousins, who preferred tumbling to mushrooms. A real Baggins is after all, at least a bit respectable.