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auntiemeeshHere's the second half of my Birthday fic. Sorry about the spammage, but I wasn't organized enough to write these things in advance. They are both unbetaed, if you find any terrible mistakes, just shout at me, lol.
The First Birthday - Part Two
Frodo sat in the garden, thinking hard. Bilbo’s present had been a wonderful surprise, but it left him with a bit of a dilemma. He’d planned to give the older hobbit a box of monogrammed handkerchiefs, but that seemed rather inadequate now. There had to be something he could give Bilbo that would be as special as the gift Bilbo had given him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think what it was.
He found himself idly watching as Hamfast Gamgee supervised his youngest son, Sam, who was trimming the hedges. The lad showed a keen interest in gardening and had been helping his father all summer. Frodo enjoyed watching the relationship between the two. The Gaffer was a gruff hobbit whose bark was far worse than his bite, as Frodo had come to realize. The young gardening apprentice listened to his father carefully, always tried to correct his mistakes and rarely made the same mistake twice, and never seemed hurt in the least when his Gaffer barked an order or called him a ninnyhammer.
Frodo had come to the conclusion that as much as Sam loved gardening, he also loved spending the time with his gaffer. And Ham clearly felt the same way, sending frequent looks of pride and affection towards the lad.
Frodo was beginning to get the seeds of an idea as he watched the gardeners, hard at work. Maybe there was something he could give Bilbo, after all. Hurrying inside, he checked first to see where Bilbo was. Reassured that the old hobbit was busy with preparations for the party they were having later that afternoon, he hurried to the study. He had work to do, and he wanted to get it done before lunch.
He just barely succeeded, getting everything arranged to his satisfaction minutes before Bilbo called his name.
“Frodo. Time for lunch!”
“I’m coming, Bilbo,” he called back. Looking around, he nodded in satisfaction before carefully closing the door behind him and joining Bilbo in the kitchen.
“You’ve been very quiet this morning,” Bilbo commented as he ate. “What have you been doing?”
Frodo heard the note of suspicion in his guardian’s voice and smiled to himself. “Oh, this and that. I was rearranging your study, mainly.”
“What!?” A mouthful of chicken flew across the table as Bilbo stared at Frodo in consternation. The older hobbit’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out, and Frodo had a hard time suppressing the laughter he felt.
“I think I’ve made a much better use of the space, Uncle.” Frodo was enjoying himself, but he didn’t want Bilbo to get really upset, so he decided to get things over with. Truthfully, he was a trifle nervous. Well, more than a trifle nervous, really. “You should come look at it, and see what you think.”
Bilbo was visibly trying to stay calm. “Yes, I suppose I should.”
The two hobbits walked down the hall to the study, and Frodo stood aside, allowing Bilbo to enter first. He waited a moment, allowing the older hobbit to take in the changes he’d made before following.
When he entered the room, Bilbo looked at him with sparkling eyes. “So, my lad,” he commented. “You think this is an improvement, do you?” He was trying to sound stern, but Frodo could see hear the laughter that was being suppressed.
“The question is, what do you think?” he responded pertly, feeling much more sure of himself now.
Bilbo looked around the room. Frodo had not touched Bilbo’s desk, but had equipped another small table to function as another desk, for himself. On it, he had placed a thin book that was written in Elvish, a slate and chalk, several sheets of parchment, and a quill and ink bottle.
“What do I think,” mused Bilbo. “Well, for starters, that book is altogether wrong.” Picking it up and returning it to it’s proper place on the bookshelf, Bilbo searched for a moment until he found one that suited him better. “This is the book Elrond gave me, when I left Rivendell to return to the Shire, after my travels. It makes a very good primer. I think you should start with that.”
“So you’ll teach me Elvish?” Frodo asked.
“My dear boy,” Bilbo responded, eyes shining, “nothing would give me greater pleasure.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “But now, we have a party to attend, you and I. I think it is time for us to go greet our guests.”
Heart brimming with love and happiness, Frodo followed Bilbo out of the smial, ready to celebrate his first birthday at Bag End.
The First Birthday - Part Two
Frodo sat in the garden, thinking hard. Bilbo’s present had been a wonderful surprise, but it left him with a bit of a dilemma. He’d planned to give the older hobbit a box of monogrammed handkerchiefs, but that seemed rather inadequate now. There had to be something he could give Bilbo that would be as special as the gift Bilbo had given him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think what it was.
He found himself idly watching as Hamfast Gamgee supervised his youngest son, Sam, who was trimming the hedges. The lad showed a keen interest in gardening and had been helping his father all summer. Frodo enjoyed watching the relationship between the two. The Gaffer was a gruff hobbit whose bark was far worse than his bite, as Frodo had come to realize. The young gardening apprentice listened to his father carefully, always tried to correct his mistakes and rarely made the same mistake twice, and never seemed hurt in the least when his Gaffer barked an order or called him a ninnyhammer.
Frodo had come to the conclusion that as much as Sam loved gardening, he also loved spending the time with his gaffer. And Ham clearly felt the same way, sending frequent looks of pride and affection towards the lad.
Frodo was beginning to get the seeds of an idea as he watched the gardeners, hard at work. Maybe there was something he could give Bilbo, after all. Hurrying inside, he checked first to see where Bilbo was. Reassured that the old hobbit was busy with preparations for the party they were having later that afternoon, he hurried to the study. He had work to do, and he wanted to get it done before lunch.
He just barely succeeded, getting everything arranged to his satisfaction minutes before Bilbo called his name.
“Frodo. Time for lunch!”
“I’m coming, Bilbo,” he called back. Looking around, he nodded in satisfaction before carefully closing the door behind him and joining Bilbo in the kitchen.
“You’ve been very quiet this morning,” Bilbo commented as he ate. “What have you been doing?”
Frodo heard the note of suspicion in his guardian’s voice and smiled to himself. “Oh, this and that. I was rearranging your study, mainly.”
“What!?” A mouthful of chicken flew across the table as Bilbo stared at Frodo in consternation. The older hobbit’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out, and Frodo had a hard time suppressing the laughter he felt.
“I think I’ve made a much better use of the space, Uncle.” Frodo was enjoying himself, but he didn’t want Bilbo to get really upset, so he decided to get things over with. Truthfully, he was a trifle nervous. Well, more than a trifle nervous, really. “You should come look at it, and see what you think.”
Bilbo was visibly trying to stay calm. “Yes, I suppose I should.”
The two hobbits walked down the hall to the study, and Frodo stood aside, allowing Bilbo to enter first. He waited a moment, allowing the older hobbit to take in the changes he’d made before following.
When he entered the room, Bilbo looked at him with sparkling eyes. “So, my lad,” he commented. “You think this is an improvement, do you?” He was trying to sound stern, but Frodo could see hear the laughter that was being suppressed.
“The question is, what do you think?” he responded pertly, feeling much more sure of himself now.
Bilbo looked around the room. Frodo had not touched Bilbo’s desk, but had equipped another small table to function as another desk, for himself. On it, he had placed a thin book that was written in Elvish, a slate and chalk, several sheets of parchment, and a quill and ink bottle.
“What do I think,” mused Bilbo. “Well, for starters, that book is altogether wrong.” Picking it up and returning it to it’s proper place on the bookshelf, Bilbo searched for a moment until he found one that suited him better. “This is the book Elrond gave me, when I left Rivendell to return to the Shire, after my travels. It makes a very good primer. I think you should start with that.”
“So you’ll teach me Elvish?” Frodo asked.
“My dear boy,” Bilbo responded, eyes shining, “nothing would give me greater pleasure.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “But now, we have a party to attend, you and I. I think it is time for us to go greet our guests.”
Heart brimming with love and happiness, Frodo followed Bilbo out of the smial, ready to celebrate his first birthday at Bag End.
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