It was midnight in Buckland. The moon shone brightly overhead as three young hobbit-lads hid behind a grove of tall trees.

"Are you sure we should go through with this, Frodo? Mushrooms are different than carrots, and Farmer Maggot's supposed to be pretty stern," one whispered. His name was Gen Brandybuck, and he was one of Frodo Baggins' hundreds of cousins.

"Oh, shut up, Gen! Are you scared?" the other boy questioned.

"Shh," Frodo hissed. "Someone will hear you."

"Maybe we should just go back," Gen whispered more quietly.

"Shh!" Frodo said again. "We're not going back. If you don't want to do this, you don't have to."

Gen hesitated.

"You aren't scared, are you?" the other boy demanded.

"Brend, he can leave if he wants to," Frodo replied.

"I'll stay," Gen answered, slightly embarrased.

"No one's awake, let's go!" Frodo stated.

They silently dashed out from the cover of the trees, dashed for the mushroom patch behind the house, and started shoving them into a sack. Suddenly a dog barked, and the three young ruffians froze.

"Run!" Frodo cried. "Someone's coming!"

Gen dashed away, bag in hand, and Brend followed close behind. Frodo leapt to his feet and was about to dash after his friends, who were already hidden in the trees, when Farmer Maggot came out of the farmhouse and spotted Frodo standing frozen amongst all his prized mushrooms. He shined his lantern at him, and yelled, "Get off my land!"

Frodo ran until he reached the ferry where Gen and Brend were waiting for him.

"That was a close one, Fro," Gen said as Frodo collapsed, breathing heavily, on the bottom of the ferry.

"How many did we get?" he asked a moment later.

"Enough to make that mad dash worth it!" Brend replied.

frodo smiled mischieviously. "Who would have thought we'd go from carrots to mushrooms so seemlessly?"

"It's almost as if mushrooms were already our specialty," Gen said. "But carrots are easier. Farther from the farmhouse."

"Let's try getting eggs from the hen-house next time," Frodo suggested.

This idea was quickly shouted down with a loud "NO!" from both Gen and Brend. Frodo laughed.

* * *

Saradoc watched, slightly amused, when Frodo had a hard time trying not to fall asleep in his eggs the next morning. He remembered being twenty once, and had no doubt as to what Frodo had been up to the night before.

Esmeralda was less forgiving.

"Frodo-lad, what have you been doing?" she demanded the fourth time she had to tap his arm to wake him up.

"Nothing, Aunt Esme," Frodo replied wearily.

Esmeralda stared at him. "It's not nothing. You were out raiding some poor farmer's crops again, weren't you?"

Frodo glanced at her a moment, then looked away.

"What am I to do with you?" Esmeralda exclaimed, gripping the back of a chair. "I can only imagine what Merry is going to pick up from all this!"

"Esme, please! They're just tweens. It's just normal," Saradoc responded, seeing an icy, closed look come into Frodo's eyes. He only got that way when they brought Merry into the mix. And Esme only did that when she was very frustrated. And that wasn't too often.

Esme saw the look and softened. "I'm sorry, Frodo," she said humbly. "I'm only frustrated that you keep getting into trouble."

Frodo nodded.

"I don't know how to handle it, and I don't like it," she continued. "But you've not been hurt, and no one else has, yet."

Frodo smiled. "We're too good for that."

Suddenly they heard little feet padding down the hallway, and seven year old Merry rushed to his cousin, to leap into his arms. "Fro, you're back. I heard you last night," Merry said, pretending to whisper into Frodo's ear.

"Did I wake you, Merry-lad?" Frodo questioned. "I'm sorry."

"That's all right," Merry replied. "I wasn't sleepy."

Frodo smiled at his young cousin. Merry, who was too young to understand what had happened to Frodo's parents, thought of Frodo as a brother, and Frodo treated him as one.

"Can you take me to the river today, Fro?" Merry asked. "It's hot outside, and I want to go swimming!"

"Maybe," Frodo replied. "If it's all right with your Mum and Da." He glanced at Sara and Esme questioningly.

"Go ahead," Sara responded before Esme could say anything.

* * *

Frodo sat on the bank of the Brandywine River, watching as Merry and a few other hobbit children splashed around in the shallow, rocky area near by.

"Psst! Frodo!" a voice called behind him. Frodo turned to see Gen and Brend walking up behind him.

"Did you get caught going in last night?" Brand asked, sauntering up to him, his hands in his breeches pockets.

Frodo shook his head. "My aunt got on me this morning, though," he replied. "How about you?"

"Naw. My folks don't really care, just so long as I don't get hurt," Brend said.

"I didn't get caught, but that's only because my Mum is away visiting her third cousin on her Da's side, and my Da sleeps like a log," Gen stated. "Can't wake him up."

"So, are we on for tomorrow night, then?" Frodo questioned, glancing at both of them.

"Yes," Brend said. "Only if we can sneak out all right and get back unseen. Last night was too close. I swear he got a really good look at you, Frodo. Why'd you freeze like that?"

"His eyes through that lantern..." Frodo shuddered. "Looked all yellow and fiery. Really scared me for a moment. Then he moved the light, looked like a normal hobbit, and I fled," Frodo finished.

Brand grinned. Gen looked nervous.

Merry came out of the water, and dashed up to Frodo. "Come swim with me, Fro!" he requested. "Gen and Brend too!"

"No, Merry. You know I don't swim," Frodo replied. "You go have fun, though."

Merry put on a pouty facethat he acquired every time Frodo said that. "Please, Fro? Just this once!"

"No, sorry Mer. I can't," Frodo said, his face expressionless. "That's final."

"Fine." Merry sighed, defeated. Then he grinned. "Come help me catch frogs, then?"

Frodo turned to his friends. "Anybody up for a frog hunt?" he asked.

They smiled. "Sure."

Frodo met Gen and Brend outside Brandy Hall the next night. “Are you still sure we won’t get caught?” Gen asked. “Farmer Maggot has a bow and arrow on a hook in his barn I saw it through the open door last night. He was heading for it to use it, until he saw who you were.”

Frodo sent him a mischievous grin. “Then he’ll know it’s us this time, and he won’t even think about shooting us. And if he won’t shoot us, then we don’t have anything to worry about.” He looked at them and smiled encouragingly. “Last night was just a slip up. It won’t happen again. We’re too good for that,” he assured them.

The ferry landed and they trudged up the long road to the farm.

“Shh!” Frodo hissed when they came in sight of the house, and Brend was whispering too loudly. “He’ll hear you!”

They fell silent as they snuck into their normal tree grove. All was quiet in the house. Mostly. They could hear Farmer Maggot snoring through the open window.

“All right, go now!” Frodo whispered the order and the three of them hurried out to the mushroom patch.

A dog inside began to bark, and the snoring stopped.

This time the Farmer gave a warning shout, and lifted his lantern high in the air to get a good look at the three tweens dashing off down the lane. And he knew who one of them was. Nobody in Buckland could mistake the thin form of Frodo Baggins.

* * *

“Who was it this time?” Mrs. Maggot asked when her husband entered the house a few moments later.

“Frodo Baggins and his group again,” the farmer remarked angrily. “Takin’ all o’ my best mushrooms! One even snatched the pouch of pipeweed I left out side accidentally.” He sank into a chair at the end of the table and said, “If they come around again, I’ll set my dogs on ‘em and give ‘em a wopping they won’t easily ferget.”

Mrs. Maggot shook her head and clicked her tongue. “That lad needs parents,” she said. “And I know Mr. and Mrs. Brandybuck are doin’ their best, but they ain’t the kind o’ people as is right for him.”

“What, you sayin’ old Mad Baggins should take him in?” Farmer Maggot stated incredulously.

Mrs. Maggot shrugged. “Perhaps. He seemed to know how to handle the boy, which is somethin’ I don’t think his Brandybuck relatives can do.”

“Well, the lad is mostly Baggins, and they’re a stubborn lot. Mayhap you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

* * *

Merry and Frodo met Brend and Gen in a rarely used mathom-room the next day.

“You got the mushrooms?” Frodo asked Gen.

Gen brought out a sack full of mushrooms. “I counted three hundred and ninety seven,” he said. “I think that’s the record number for tweens at Brandy Hall, Fro. Should last us quite a while if we eat them sparingly.” He looked at the food, his mouth watering.

Frodo shook his head. “Once more, then we’ll lay off raiding the poor farmer till next season.”

“When?” Brend asked, tossing little Merry a mushroom, a carrot, and a toy harp he’d found on a shelf.

“We should wait till Friday. That will give us four nights.” Frodo calculated the days on his fingers. “That will make my aunt happier and maybe the farmer will forget about us.”

“All right. Now, have a mushroom, Frodo,” Brend said. He reached into his pocket. “And maybe later, when Merry’s not around…” He held out the pouch of pipeweed.

“Where did you get that?” Frodo demanded, eyes widening.

“Brend, you know our Da’s won’t let us smoke yet!” Gen said.

“Put it in your pocket! Don’t let Merry see it,” Frodo said, then repeated his initial question.

“Was lying on a log, as if Farmer Maggot was coming back to it and forgot.”

“Fro! I found a strange hat!” Merry said, coming up to them wearing a hobbit-sized hat imitating the pointy grey hat of a wizard named Gandalf.

“Who’s is it, Fro?” Merry asked, and Frodo laughed.

“That was mine when I was little!” Frodo exclaimed. “Uncle Bilbo had it made for me when I’d first met Gandalf the Wizard, and wanted a hat just like his.”

“You’ve met Gandalf, the wizard that sent Mr. Bilbo on his adventures?” Gen questioned.

“Why of course!” Frodo replied. “He’s always coming to visit Uncle Bilbo.”

“Can I have it, Fro?” Merry asked, looking eagerly up at his cousin.

“Sure,” Frodo replied. He turned to Gen. “You hide the food again. I’ve got to get Merry back to Aunt Esme, but I”ll meet you at Brend’s apartment later.”

And the three parted ways.

"Your Uncle Bilbo is arriving late Thursday afternoon, Frodo," Esmeralda informed her nephew that evening at dinner. "He says he has something important to discuss with you."

Frodo's head shot up. Could it finally be the day Bilbo had sworn would come? He couldn't tell from his aunt's expression.

"Do try to behave yourself, dear," she admonished the lad.

"Fro, you're turning red!" Merry said with a giggle.

Frodo ate the rest of his meal in silence, thinking. He had promised Gen and Brend they would do it Friday. If Bilbo truly wanted him, he's be willing to put up with a little mischief before hand. There wasn't a need for mischief in Hobbiton. Buckland was different.

Thursday came around quickly. Bilbo arrived on foot, carrying a walking stick, a book, and a pack that looked rather heavy.

"Let me take your pack, Uncle!" Frodo said, helping the elder hobbit take off his coat, and ushering him into the hallway.

Once they were all settled, Bilbo wrapped Frodo in a big hug and said, "I missed you, Frodo! How've you been?"

"Quite well, Uncle. And you?" Frodo led his Uncle to the guest bedroom, where he would stay for the weekend.

"Quite good, quite good!" Bilbo exclaimed. "Esmeralda tells me you've gotten in a bit of mischief lately?" Frodo didn't miss the good natured gleam in Bilbo's eye, and knew that he understood completely.

"Oh, it's nothing, really. My friends and I can't resist good mushrooms!" he said with a smile.

"Indeed!" Bilbo put his book down on the side table, and lay his pack on the bed. "Now, as to why I am here. I'm sure you've already guessed it, but don't get too excited," Bilbo began. "I must talk to your cousins, then talk to you. We have to do this properly."

"Yes, Uncle," Frodo responded, giving his uncle a completely serious look.

"Now, do you have any tea or cake around here? I'm starved!"

* * *

"I heard your Uncle Bilbo's here," Gen said, watching as Frodo hurried to meet them behind the Hall late the next night.

"Yes. He's come to adopt me," Frodo replied, smiling.

"So, you're leaving us?" Brend said, looking hurt.

"Don't give me that look. You already knew it," Frodo retorted, grinning at the sarcastic look on his friend's face.

"When?" Gen asked.

"Not sure," Frodo answered. "Now, if we stand here gawking all night, nothing is going to get done. Let's go!"

* * *

They didn't know what went wrong that night, and never found out. Before they knew what was happening, three dogs dashed after them, one catching Gen in the calf and only letting go when it recieved a kick square in the eye from Brend.

The other two had knocked Frodo to the ground and started sniffing at his pockets, where he'd stuffed some mushrooms that wouldn't fit in the small bag they'd brought. He lay flat and stayed still, hoping they wouldn't bite him. But he was not prepared for what happened next.

Farmer Maggot walked up, and said, "Caught you this time!" and began to beat him with a pony crop. The pain in his shoulders was excruciating, as Farmer Maggot was not a weak hobbit. Frodo began to cry in pain and fear, almost afraid for his life!

Then when he thought he could bear no more, Maggot grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and shook him hard. Then he whistled his dogs over.

*"See lads," he said. "Next time this young varmint sets foot on my land, you can eat him. Now, see him off!"*

He shoved Frodo hard, and he fled off towards the ferry, the three wolvish-looking dogs behind him.

When he got to the ferry, Gen and Brend were waiting for him, and he collapsed by them as Brend pushed the ferry away from the bank of the river.

"Are you all right, Frodo?" Brend asked, noticing that his shirt was torn and his back was covered in welts.

"Am I alive?" he responded, blinking.

Brend nodded. "Barely. Maybe Gen was right. It wasn't such a bright idea after all."

Gen was still holding Brend's pocket handkerchief to his leg. "You suppose?" he asked sarcastically.

Frodo moaned. "Stop arguing. This is probably my fault. I talked you into raids and such."

"You're too hard on yourself, Frodo," Brend said. "We all made mistakes. Now let's fix them before anyone founds out."

* * *

Brend expertly bandaged Gen's leg, but didn't have any idea how to hide it.

"Say you tripped while going for water, and cut it open on the edge of a door," he suggested.

Frodo and Brend saw him to his apartment, making sure he could walk all right. Then Brend turned to Frodo. "Here, take my shirt to cover those welts. You're good at keeping your face expressionless. Pretend you're fine, and they'll believe it!"

"Are you sure?" Frodo questioned.

"Course, now go!"

Even with his perfectly schooled expressions and attempts to hide his pain, Bilbo knew something was wrong with Frodo. But he would let the lad tell him in his own time.

Saradoc and Esmeralda agreed for Frodo to go with Bilbo, though Esme wasn't too happy about it. They knew it was what Frodo wanted. They had seen the expression of immence joy and relief on his face when Bilbo told him they'd agreed. They had only seen him that happy when Merry was born and he'd held his own cousin for the very first time. He didn't smile like that much anymore.

So Frodo's things were packed that following Sunday, and Frodo had to break the news to little Merry. As he told the lad that he was leaving, the sad look on his cousin's face almost made Frodo consider staying.

"I'm going to live with Uncle Bilbo," he said. "But I'll be back for Yule, and I'll come visit all the time."

"You promise you'll come back?" Merry asked. "You wouldn't leave me, would you?"

"I could never leave you, Merry," Frodo replied, smiling at the boy.

"You promise?" Merry demanded, looking up at Frodo with big brown eyes.

Frodo nodded. "I promise, Merry-lad." He pulled Merry into his arms when he saw a tear on Merry's face. "Don't you worry, I'll be back."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to go, lad?" Esmeralda asked, watching Frodo's face carefully as he stepped out the door, preparing to leave. He'd never looked so happy in his life.

"Of course! It's what I've wanted ever since it happened," he replied. "It's for the best, don't you think?"

Esme smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "Yes, it is." She pulled him into a hug. "You will always be welcome here, Frodo, love," she told him.

"Thank you, Aunt Esme. I love you," Frodo said, returning her embrace. Then he looked down at the little hobbit-lad holding onto his leg tightly. He bent over and released himself from Merry's grip, then lifted him into his arms. "Now, Merry-lad, I'm going with Uncle Bilbo. But I'll be back. I promised, remember? I'll come visit all the time."

Merry nodded, rubbing his eyes, already red from crying. "Promise me you'll come swimming with me next summer, then. Or else I won't let you go," he said, wrapping his arms around Frodo's neck.

Frodo looked at his aunt helplessly. She only smiled and nodded, so he said, "All right, Merry. I'll come swim with you, I promise." He kissed the boy's forehead, then placed him in his mother's arms.

Saradoc approached, his hands dirty from helping Bilbo load the wagon he was taking back to Bag End. "Well, goodbye, dear cousin," he said, pulling Frodo into a hug. "I'll miss you, Frodo."

"I'll miss you as well, Uncle," Frodo replied. Sara released him and Frodo turned and followed Bilbo to the cart. Then they were off, leaving life in Brandy Hall forever.

* * *

The wagon ride was long and jolty, and by the time they reached Bag End two days later, Frodo's back ached miserably. But he was too excited to notice. He was home! The one place that had felt like home to him after his parents death.

He took a deep breath and looked around to seeif anything had changed in the year since he had last been there. Nothing much had. The flowers were blooming beautifully, there were birds everywhere, and the door had recently gotten a brand new coat of green pant.

The gardener, Frodo couldn't remember his right name, was trimming a hedge in a part of the garden, and a lad of about nine stood beside him.

When the pony stopped at the gate, the lad looked up and his big brown eyes met Frodo's blue ones, and their gaze held for a moment, before the lad blushed and looked down again.

Frodo grabbed his uncle's arm. "Who is that boy, Uncle?" he asked.

"Who, him? Samwise Gamgee. The kindest little lad you'll ever meet. My advice, Frodo, don't let him help you with too much, or he'll think it's his job to look out for you," Bilbo said with a smile and a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure you'll be good friends before the summer's over!"

Frodo smiled. He'd be glad to have another young lad around so he didn't miss Merry so much.

Bilbo helped Frodo haul all of his things into one of the bedrooms that was to be his very own, then left him to organize them, and get settled.

Out in the hall he heard a voice say, "Mr. Bilbo, my Da sent me to see if you needed any help."

"No thank you, Samwise. But I tell you what, once Frodo's all settled, why don't you come back and I'll introduce you, and tell you a story about Elves?"

"Really?" Frodo could hear the excitement in the boy's voice.

"Yes, really. Come in about half an hour," Bilbo said, and Frodo heard a quick, "Thank you, Mr. Bilbo, sir!" and feet pattering on the wooden floors of Bag End.

Frodo sat in the parlor nor thirty minutes later, his feet pulled up under him, and a blanket over hislap. The evening air had suddenly gotten cold, and Bilbo wanted to keep a window open.

"Mr. Bilbo," came a voice from the hallway.

"Ah, Samwise! Come in and meet my cousin Frodo!' Bilbo called the boy over.

He was rather shy at first, watching Frodo in awe. "Hello, Mr. Frodo, sir!" he stammered. "Sam Gamgee at your service."

Frodo smiled. "Hullo, Sam, I am very pleased to meet you," he said.

Sam smiled and blushed.

"Frodo, scoot over and let Sam have a seat by you, and I'll tell you two a story," Bilbo said.

Frodo moved over and let Sam sit next to him on the couch. He passed the boy part of his banket incase he was cold, and Sam accepted it thankfully.

"What are you going to tell us about, Mr. Bilbo?" Sam asked.

"What do you want to hear, Sam?"

Sam glanced at Frodo. "What do you want to hear, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo thought a moment. "Have you told him about Rivendell, Uncle?" Frodo asked.

Sam shook his head.

"That would be perfect!" Bilbo said. "Lord Elrond just sent me a book on it's history last winter for Yule. Perhaps..." he pulled the book off a shelf and sat down in his favorite chair to begin reading.

Frodo was intreagued by the gardener's son. He seemed so plain and polite, yet when it came to these stories, he seemed to understand it, and what he didn't understand, he wasn't afraid to ask Bilbo about.

But it was late, and both boys were tired. Nearly an hour later Bilbo noticed that they had fallen asleep on the couch; Sam resting against the arm, and Frodo lying down, with his head in the boys lap.

Bilbo smiled down at them, then rushed to answer the door when someone knocked. It was Bell Gamgee, Sam's mother, come to fetch her home.

"Shh," Bilbo said. "I was reading him and my nephew a story, and they fell asleep on the couch." He led her into the study and she smiled when she saw them.

"Poor lad, must be exhausted," Bell murmured, brushing a curl from Frodo's eyes. "Let me help you get him to bed, Mr. Bilbo. Then I'll wake my lad and be on my way."

"As you wish, Mrs. Gamgee," Bilbo replied. "I don't think I can lift him by myself."

Bell helped Bilbo lift the lad, who was very light, to their surprise.

"He's a heavy sleeper, isn't he?" Bell commented.

"Yes," Bilbo replied. "His Da was the same. Baggins trait, I'm afraid."

"He's a very handsome lad. You'd best warn him against bein' too nice to some of the lasses around here," Bell stated.

"Oh, he knows. They've many lasses of the sort in Brandy Hall," Bilbo said. He removed Frodo's shirt to slip on his nightshirt, and noticed the welts covering his back.

"Oh!" Bell exclaimed. "What happened!?"

Bilbo looked grim. "Why didn't he tell me this?" he murmured. He turned to Bell. "He and his friends from Brandy Hall can't resist good mushrooms. I assume somebody caught him and beat him for tresspassing."

"Oh, the poor lad!" She felt sorry for this orphan boy. He needed to be loved and understood, and she was certain he'd get that at Bag End, between Mr. Bilbo and her Sam.

Once they left the room, Bell asked, "How did my Sam get along with him?" She knew Sam had been wanting to meet Mr. Frodo since the day he'd heard of him.

"Splendidly! They're alot alike, Mrs. Gamgee. Inside, that is. They were made for each other, I think," Bilbo replied. "I think they'll become best friends."

Bell seemed shocked. "That doesn't seem proper! To have the future master of Bag End be best friends with his future gardener?"

"They don't care," Bilbo reminded her as they re-entered the parlor. "They're both special hobbits, that much I know."

He looked at Sam, still asleep on the couch, and smiled. "And now my Frodo-lad's got a home and a new friend. All's well as ends well, I say."

* * *

The next morning, Mrs. Gamgee stopped by to see if Bilbo and Frodo needed anything, accompamied by her six curious children.

"Well, Frodo's still sleeping, but I'm sure he'd like some help getting his things in order after second breakfast," Bilbo replied. "The kitchen's a little messy, so it'll need to be tidied, but I don't have time right now, as I must go down to Hobbiton to order a few bookshelves."

"Bookshelves?" Mrs. Gamgee exclaimed. "Don't you have enough?"

Bilbo shook his head emphatically. "Frodo's got five boxes in there. Three are full of books, and the other two hold all his possessions. He'll need plenty of shelves for those books."

Bilbo pulled on his coat, and grabbed his walking stick. "I'll be back in a little while. The main thing is to make Frodo feel at home." He smiled at them. "Not a problem with such wonderful folks around. Goodbye!" And he left.

Once the door was closed, the two eldest boys, Hamson, and Halfred hurried to the kitchen to clean it. Mrs. Gamgee, Daisy, and May sat in chairs in the parlor and started sewing and knitting. Marigold, who was only six, was playing with one of Bilbo's cat's three kittens on the floor at her mother's feet.

"I'll help Mr. Frodo with his room when he wakes," Sam said, glancing in the direction of the bedrooms. "He's really nice, Mum. And he likes Elves too!"

"Oh, no! Not that talk of Elves again!" May complained.

"I think Mr. Frodo looks like an Elf," Sam said. "A sort of hobbity Elf."

"Mum, make him stop!" Daisy demanded.

"Sam-dear, run off and help Ham and Hal in the kitchen, won't you?" Mrs. Gamgee said.

Sam dashed off, but stopped in the hall. The door to Frodo's room was open slightly. Sam peered in and saw him lying on the bed, covers pulled up so high about his face that his feet were sticking out the other end.

Frodo rolled over, and the comforter nearly fell off the bed.

Sam smiled. He looked so calm and peaceful when he was sleeping and so content and trusting of those watching over him.

"I'll watch out for you, Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered, then left.

A/N: Oh my, it's been along time since I've updated (Sorry Arwen, waiting on pins and needles, aren't you, dear? *just kidding*) I'm afraid my pen is faster than my keyboard!

Frodo stumbled sleepily into the kitchen just as the Gamgees began making breakfast. He was awake just enough to have gotten dressed, washed his face, combed his hair, and become hungry enough for whatever food would be set before him.

"Hullo, Mr. Frodo! Come meet my family!" Sam said, excitedly coming up and grabbing Frodo's hand. "That's Ham, he's twenty four, and Hal who's twenty, nearly your age, Mr. Frodo. And my sisters, Daisy and May, and Marigold."

They all acknowledged him with a nod or curtsie, but the two eldest girls couldn't keep their eyes off him.

"And this is my mum," Sam said, coming to his mother. "Her name's Bell."

"I'm pleased to meet you all," Frodo said, smiling. "I've heard alot about your family from my uncle." This last he said facing Mrs. Gamgee, and he didn't notice the girls straightening their aprons, and checking to make sure their hair was perfect.

Hal noticed and rolled his eyes.

"Are you hungry, Mr. Frodo?" Mrs. Gamgee asked. "I've got pancakes on the stove and I can make you an egg if you'd like."

"Pancakes sound wonderful, Mrs. Gamgee," he said with a smile.

"You missed first breakfast already, but my mum's pancakes'll make up for that, Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed.

In the days that followed, Frodo was happier than he'd ever been in his life, save for one problem. He felt bad about leaving Merry like he did, but he managed to shove that aside by reminding himself that he'd see the lad at Yule.

Sam was a great help. Oh, yes, Ham and Hal were much closer his age, and they got along quite nicely, but none of them felt the connection Frodo had with little Sam. Soon the two were practically inseparable, even though Sam's Gaffer wasn't so gung-ho on the idea.

Then one day nearly two months later, Sam couldn't find Frodo at Bag End. He's searched the entire hole, and the garden. Then he decided to go to the hill atop Bag End. He saw Mr. Frodo between a group of trees, hidden to all on the road below. He appeared to be reading... and smoking a pipe.

Sam gasped quietly. He knew Mr. Frodo wasn't old enough to smoke. Ham didn't even smoke yet, and he was three years older! Sam ran back down the hill, not sure what he should do.

* * *

The kitchen door shut with a click, and Bilbo looked up from the stove where he was cooking a stew for supper. "Did you find him?" he asked, smiling cheerfully.

Sam nodded.

"Well, where is he lad?" Bilbo asked, noticing something was wrong.

"Well, Mr. Bilbo, I'm scared," he said, tears coming to his eyes. "Mr. Frodo might be angry with me if I tell you."

"Don't you worry about that. What happened?" Bilbo knelt at eye level with the lad.

"I know as how Mr. Frodo was a trouble maker where he came from, but I saw him up on the hill a moment ago, smokin' a pipe, and he ain't nearly old enough."

Bilbo raised an eye brow, wondering how in all of Middle-earth Frodo learned how to smoke. He looked back at Sam, and knew that Frodo's lack of integrity had seriously shaken the boy. "Thank you for telling me Sam. You're a brave fellow. Frodo is lucky to have a friend like you."

"Are you going to stop him?"

"Yes, lad, I will. But I don't think this is his only problem, Sam. He's got a lot to work through. But you and I will help him, won't we?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam replied enthusiastically.

* * *

Frodo entered the house just as Bilbo was done setting food on the table, a book in his hand, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Is supper ready?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Yes lad. I hope you're hungry because I can't eat all of this by myself!" Bilbo said, rubbing his hands together.

As they ate, Frodo told his uncle about what he'd been reading that afternoon, a story about the Elves of the second age. Then after supper they both retired to the parlor, and Frodo asked, "Did Sam come by today?"

Bilbo glanced up from the book he'd been reading. "Yes, he did." He'd been waiting for Frodo to bring up the subject.

"Oh, really? I'm surprised he didn't come looking for me," Frodo said, glancing up at his uncle.

"Oh, he look for you."

Frodo looked at him with a confused expression on his face.

"And he found you." Frodo's expression turned changed quickly to an almost frantic fear. "I'm afraid he's terribly worried about you, Frodo."

Frodo stumbled upon his words. "I... I can explain..."

"Not neccisary, lad. I was young once as well, you know. I understand." He paused and frowned. "Now, I'm not going to lecture you, but I will say that you must stop, as I promised Sam you would."

Frodo nodded, looking rather pale.

"My only qualm about this whole situation is that you didn't tell me. And you didn't tell me about those horrible welts on your back."

Frodo's eyes widened. "You know about that too?"

"I'm not stupid, lad." Bilbo chuckled. "I don't like secrets in my house, unless there is a good reason to keep them. You can tell me anything and I'll still love you, Frodo. That doesn't make what you're doing right, but I won't stop loving you. That being said, do you wish to tell me about how you got those welts, and where in all of Arda you learned how to smoke?"

And so, haltingly, Frodo began to tell Bilbo the story of Farmer Maggot's farm and their crop raiding, and the dogs, and how Brend's older brother had taught him and Brend how to smoke.

"I suppose you've gotten into other kinds of trouble as well, with those kind of companions?" Bilbo said.

"Well, we've gotten into the ale once or twice, and once we set a whole lot of frogs loose during a big party at the Hall. I suppose we were slightly drink when we did that. We thought it was histerical."

"My goodness! Tweens do get in so much trouble, yet somehow they manage to turn out all right! And who instigated this?"

Frodo blushed. "I did."

"My goodness!" Bilbo repeated. "I do hope you'll apply all that cleverness and enthusiasm to your studies!"

"Of course, Uncle! You did promise to teach me Elvish," Frodo smiled now. He constantly reminded his Uncle of this.

"That I did, that I did. Only one more thing I have to say."

Frodo looked at him questioningly.

"If I find that you've gotten into my ale or wine, you'll be sleeping outside, and you'll have to deal with a hangover yourself." Bilbo smiled at the lad, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, Uncle," Frodo said, smiling back.

"Now that's settled, why don't you run down the lane and see if Sam wants to hear a story?" Bilbo suggested.

Frodo leapt up and dashed out the door.

Daisy answered the door when Frodo knocked. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, do come in!"

"Thank you, Daisy. Is Sam here?" he replied, looking down the hall and not seeing her blush. "I was wondering if he'd like to hear a story from Uncle Bilbo."

"Yes, let me go fetch 'im for you," she dashed off down the hall to find her younger brother.

A moment later, Sam walked out of the back room, and stopped when he saw Frodo.

"Do you want to come hear a story with me? Uncle Bilbo was planning on telling us about when he was in Mirkwood today." Frodo noticed the boy hesitate, then smiled at Frodo shyly, and said, "I'd like that." He turned to his mother, sitting by the fire knitting. "Can I go, Mum?"

"I can bring him back home when we're done, Mrs. Gamgee," Frodo stated.

"All right. Just don't pester Mr. Bilbo with too many questions!" she said as the two boys walked out the door.

Neither of them spoke as they walked back up the hill, and when they reached Bag End, Frodo told Sam to go on into the parlor. Sam hurried in, and sat in his usual spot on the couch. Bilbo smiled at him . "Where's Frodo?" he asked.

"He said he'd be comin' in a minute."

As Sam spoke Frodo entered the room with something in his hands. He stood between Bilbo's chair and the couch. "I want you both to know that living here has made me happier than I've been since my parents died," he began, then paused. "With the exception of Merry being born, of course. After talking with you, Uncle, I've realized that coming here isn't just a move across the Shire, but it should also be a move towards regaining the life I had before the accident. I've neer had better friends than you, Sam, and you Uncle Bilbo."

Sam saw tears coming to both Frodo's and Bilbo's eyes.

"And with that, I give this to you, Uncle." He handed his Uncle the pipe and his pouch of pipeweed. Then he turned to Sam. "I'm sorry I made you worry, Sam. I didn't mean to."

Sam stood up and wrapped his arms around Frodo's waist. "It's all right, Frodo," he said. "I know you didn't."

Frodo hugged him back and kissed the top of his head. "I am so glad you're my friend, despite what your Gaffer says about it." Somehow he knew deep in his heart that Sam was going to be his best friend forever.

Sam smiled.

Then Frodo let go and said, "Now shall we hear a story?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically. "Yes sir!"

~ The End ~