These small ficlets and drabbles were first posted on my LiveJournal, and I decided to shamelessly copy follow Shirebound's example and post them here, too. Enjoy! :)

Reunion

Bilbo is in the garden, waiting for him. He sits on a small stone bench, swinging his legs in feigned nonchalance as he pretends to work on his Red Book. He hears the joy-filled laughter as his nephews reunite closeby, but he does not look up. His heart begins to beat more quickly.

The laughter slowly quiets, and he hears footsteps approaching, and still he does not raise his head. His hands tremble, holding the large Red Book, as a thousand fears fill his mind. How will he greet me? He wonders. Will he curse me for leaving him with so terrible a burden? Will he be angry? Or worse, disappointed? Will he call me "uncle" again? …Will he greet me at all?

"Bilbo!" The well-known voice rises in a shout, and for a moment Bilbo cannot tell if it is one of joy, or disbelief, or anger. He draws a deep breath, lays aside the book, and gets to his feet. He looks up, hesitantly, to find Frodo racing toward him, and he almost staggers when he sees the expression on his nephew’s face: joy. Pure, undiluted joy.

Hobbling forward to embrace his boy, Bilbo forces himself to speak. "Hullo, Frodo my lad!" As though it was only a few days and not seventeen years since they had last spoken.

"Bilbo!" Frodo cries again, more softly this time as he is enfolded in Bilbo’s arms. Then, added in a hoarse whisper: "I’ve missed you, Uncle." For the life of him Bilbo cannot speak, and tears fill his eyes. He merely presses Frodo closer to him.

"Frodo," he sighs at last. He pats the slim shoulders in the paternal way he used to, and presses a kiss into the familiar dark curls. "Frodo-lad…" A chuckle rewards his use of the old pet name, and he pulls back at last and gazes into the beloved face, tear-streaked and smiling. "…Frodo-lad, I’ve missed you too."

The King

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien…"

Pippin looked up at Frodo. "What is he saying?"

"Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come."

Frodo’s eyes were fixed upon the king, now moving through the crowd, which bowed low in reverence as he passed. Pippin could not read his cousin’s expression, but he understood the admiration in his voice as he slowly translated the king’s words.

"Sinome maruvan…"

"In this place I will abide…"

"…ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta."

"…and my heirs, unto the ending of the world," Frodo finished. His eyes were bright and shining. "Those were the words of Elendil, who spoke them as his feet first touched the lands of Middle-earth, long ago."

Pippin could now identify Frodo’s expression: complete and joy-filled awe. He knew that a similar expression must be on his own face. "The King," he breathed. "The King is returned at last!"

Questions

"Frodo?"

Silence.

"Frodo!"

"What?"

"You awake?"

"I am now. What is it?"

"Is Bilbo really going to take us all the way to Girdley Island tomorrow?"

"He said he would, didn’t he?"

Pause. "Will we see Elves there?"

"I doubt it."

"Dwarves?"

"Probably not."

Longer pause. "Frodo?"

"Merry, if you don’t let me get back to sleep, I’m going to stuff you under your pillow."

"Just one more question?"

"One more."

Hesitation. "Are you… are you sure it’s all right for me to come? Bilbo doesn’t mind?"

"Merry, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Well, I don’t want to be a nuisance. You and Bilbo should be spending time together. You don’t need me tagging along."

"Bilbo and I live together now, you silly hobbit. We spend plenty of time together. Of course we want you along! You’re my favorite cousin, remember? Come here."

"I know." (Muffled.) "I love you, Frodo."

"I love you too. Now let’s both get some sleep. Goodnight."

"’Night."

Silence. Then a rustle.

"…Frodo?"

A heavy sigh.

"Frodo, do you think we’ll see — mmph!"

"I told you if you didn’t let me get to sleep I’d stuff you under your pillow. No more questions. Go to sleep!"

Shifting, then a whisper. "But do you think we’ll see any Big People there?"

A growl. "I doubt it, Merry. Goodnight!"

"Hmph." A discontented snort. Then a sigh, and more shifting. "Goodnight, Frodo."

The End