Contentment

By: Elemmírë

Summary: A surprise leads to some reassurance for Saradoc & Esmeralda. Frodo is 21 (age 11-13 in Man years).

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings does not belong to me, nor am I making any profit off either its story or characters.

Author’s Note: This is the very first LOTR tale I wrote. I hope you all enjoy!

“Sara,” Esmeralda whispered to her husband. “Come here, you need to see this.”

“What?” Saradoc Brandybuck asked, looking up from the sheaf of papers he had been reading by candlelight. “Is something wrong with Merry?” he asked, referring to their eight-year old son.

“No, it’s Frodo.”

“Frodo?” Saradoc sighed at the name of their “nephew” and foster son.

Esmeralda took the papers from her husband and laid them aside. She grabbed both his hands and pulled him to his feet. “Just come with me for a minute.”

After checking on their own son, Merry, making sure he was sound asleep, the future Master of Buckland followed his wife. He held a candle aloft to light their way. What could Frodo have possibly gotten himself into now and at this time of night, he wondered.

As was her habit for the past nine years, Esmeralda had gone to check on their young charge to make sure he was tucked comfortably into his bed. More often than not, she or Saradoc usually found the orphaned lad asleep somewhere other than his bed, usually the library or sometimes even outside under the stars. Tonight appeared to be no exception as Saradoc followed his wife from their apartment.

Esmeralda led her husband down the long, tunneled, corridors of Brandy Hall, stopping finally in front of the ornately carved door of the library. She held a finger to her lips, indicating him to be quiet, and slowly pushed open the heavy, round door.

Saradoc stepped inside, half-expecting the room to be a complete disaster as he had found it the last time Frodo had fallen asleep on the floor in here, amidst a mound of opened and discarded books. What he saw instead surprised him and gave him a feeling of foreboding at the same time.

Sitting in a large, plush chair with feet resting on a padded footstool was none other than Bilbo Baggins. He appeared to be basking in the glowing warmth radiating from the large fireplace before him. The old hobbit’s head was drooping down, his eyes closed in sleep. Saradoc thought he heard a faint snore. A book lay open on the floor from where it had fallen from Bilbo’s lax fingers. A dark red, woolen blanket covered the old hobbit’s chest and legs.

Not seeing the small head of dark chestnut curls in the dim lighting, and mistaking the slight bulging of the blanket to be merely Bilbo’s ample middle, Saradoc was more mystified than ever. He gave his wife a questioning look; what in Middle-earth was she showing him? So Bilbo had arrived a day or two early from Hobbiton? There was nothing unusual about that, although he secretly wished Bilbo had not arrived early on this one occasion. Nor was it the first time that the old hobbit had fallen asleep in the Brandybuck library during his visits.

Treading silently, he followed his wife closer to the high-backed chair. He stood ready to admonish her, when Esmeralda carefully lifted a corner of the blanket away from the sleeping Bilbo Baggins. She revealed a sight that made Saradoc gasp and tears well in his eyes.

There, nestled on Bilbo’s lap and cuddled against the older hobbit’s chest, was Frodo. The recently-turned tweenager was sound asleep, a look of utter peace and contentment on his small, fair face. A tiny smile graced the lad’s lips, revealing the two small dimples on his rosy cheeks.

Saradoc watched as Frodo let out a big sigh and snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blanket and his Uncle Bilbo, one small hand clutching tightly onto Bilbo’s richly brocaded vest. Saradoc shook his head in amazement at the sight before him.

“I-I’ve never seen him this ... content ... since before his parents died,” he whispered to his wife.

For nine years, he and Esmeralda had fostered Frodo after his parents, Primula and Drogo Baggins, drowned tragically in the Brandywine River. Frodo was once a sweet and loving child, though always precocious and full of mischievous smiles. He used to be the very picture of innocence itself. But something in Frodo died as well when his parents passed on. Oh, he was still sweet, loving, and full of mischief, however, he was very melancholy. He rarely smiled or laughed anymore it seemed, and even fewer were the great big smiles that lit up and sparkled in his unnaturally large, blue eyes.

In his grief, Frodo had turned out to be quite the little trouble-maker, well-earning the reputation of being one of the worst rascals and terrors Brandy Hall had ever seen, as he was now commonly known amongst the hundreds of his relations that lived there. It seemed that lately during the past few years, most of the pits, pratfalls, and pranks around Buckland could be traced back to one not-so-innocent Frodo Baggins.

Saradoc and Esmeralda strongly suspected that the lad’s pranks were his way of dealing with his enormous amount of grief, not to mention a way of garnering attention from relations whom otherwise ignored the Baggins lad. At the time of his parents’ deaths, the almost 12-year old hobbit lad had neither the strength nor the means to fully communicate his overwhelming grief as a child. There were very few orphans to be found in the Shire in general, but Esmeralda had once heard that grieving children tended to act out their sorrows--Frodo was certainly proof enough of that. And although Frodo himself had never once voiced any complaint over his situation at now having to live at Brandy Hall, both she and Saradoc could now easily see that the only times when Frodo was truly happy were when he was with little Merry or when Bilbo wrote him a letter … or better yet, came to visit.

Saradoc and Esmeralda loved Frodo dearly; he was like a second son to them, but they were at their wits end with what to do with him at times or even how to effectively discipline him anymore. They couldn’t miraculously bring his parents back, nor would Frodo speak willingly about them or his feelings, save only to Bilbo on the rare occasion. They, and all the other hobbits at the Hall, wanted Frodo to be happy, but they didn’t know how to make him so. Despite all their love, care, and affections, Frodo was slowly suffocating in the tumultuous Brandy Hall. Saradoc and Esmeralda feared it would be soon when the now tweenager would either do something drastic or find himself in a world of trouble that he couldn’t get himself out of.

Unknown to Frodo, who had been busy raiding Farmer Maggot’s mushroom fields at the time, Saradoc and Esmeralda had held a gathering of Frodo’s immediate relations. They had summoned the Master of the Hall and Frodo’s uncle, Rorimac Brandybuck, as well as his second son, Merimac Brandybuck; all the rest of Primula’s brothers and sisters; Drogo’s siblings, Dora and Dudo Baggins; and Bilbo, as head of the Baggins family and also due to his close relationship with his favorite nephew. Saradoc and Esmeralda had finally come to the realization that they needed help in dealing with the traumatized orphan and they had wanted to discuss Frodo’s behaviors and future with those who loved him most.

It had seemed that Bilbo was in something of a predicament himself; the Sackville-Bagginses were forever breathing down his neck in hopes of one day laying claim to Bag End, the beloved smial his father had built long ago. The more Lobelia and Otho hounded Bilbo, the more he had become determined to not leave his greedy relations with anything. The trouble was, he had no direct heir to Bag End; as his closest relation, Otho was due to inherit all that he had when he departed Middle-earth, much to Bilbo’s chagrin. As the old hobbit had listened with careful attention to young Frodo’s increasingly wild and uncontrollable antics, an idea that had once passed through his mind nine years ago had begun to surface once more. It was an idea that potentially held the solution to all concerned if he could summon the courage.

The family gathering had been interrupted when little Merry had run into the Master’s study claiming that something was dreadfully wrong with Frodo. Saradoc, Esmeralda, Rorimac, and Bilbo had followed the little hobbit child down the hall and out the front door. Down by the ferry crossing, they had found Frodo sitting on the ground, hyperventilating. He had been a frightful, quivering mess and had been filthy with dirt from head to toe. His clothing had been ripped and torn in places, the hem of one pant leg appeared to have had what looked suspiciously like teeth marks in it. The back of his shirt and breeches had been covered in blood and he had been shaking, a look of sheer terror in his wide blue eyes. After being questioned, Frodo had admitted to stealing mushrooms once again from Farmer Maggot’s fields across the river. With tearful eyes, he had told of how he was caught by Maggot and beaten, then chased by Maggot’s three large dogs, whom the irate farmer had given express permission to eat him. As he had spoken, Frodo began to shake even harder and had started to cry.

At seeing how distressed and sorrowful the lad was over the entire incident, both Rorimac and Saradoc had decided to forgo punishment for the time being, declaring instead that Frodo was to spend the rest of the day in his room and in his bed. He would only be allowed supper for the rest of the day and was to have absolutely no sweets for the minimum of the next two days. Any further punishment was to be decided in the morning after the Master of Buckland had settled with Farmer Maggot.

Bilbo had carried the terrified lad back to his room at the Hall and then had helped Esmeralda clean him up and calm him down, while Saradoc and Rorimac had gone back to the study to discuss Frodo’s latest escapade with his still-gathered family. When Bilbo had eventually returned to the study, even more distressed at his beloved nephew’s antics and ever-growing moodiness, he had stated (to the surprise of all) his intention to formally adopt Frodo and bring him to Bag End in Hobbiton to live. Bilbo had admitted that this was something he had been thinking about since Frodo’s last all-too brief visit to Bag End; this latest incident with Farmer Maggot had only served to reaffirm his decision to formally adopt the boy. He had explained to them all that while Frodo’s most basic needs were not being neglected, the orphan was many times being overlooked in the tumult of relations living at the Hall; a situation which he had believed was highly contributing to the lad’s escalating antics. Bilbo had felt that Frodo would do much better and excel in an environment where he would not have to compete for attention.

Although Bilbo Baggins was considered eccentric and adventurous by hobbit standards, it had been agreed by all that he was exactly what Frodo needed. Though the elder hobbit had just turned ninety-nine, he was the epitome of good health and had more energy and could easily keep up with his sometimes rambunctious nephew. The Brandybucks and Bagginses had nodded their agreement, for even though Bilbo was the eldest hobbit present, he was the only one who seemed to be able to keep up with the spirited Frodo on a daily basis without fail ... save little Merry, of course.

For all his wealth and eccentricities, Bilbo was also one of the most generous hobbits around and was also quite smart. He would easily be able to keep up with Frodo’s voracious appetite when it came to knowledge (and stories of adventure). Saradoc and Esmeralda also had hoped that the change to Hobbiton would do Frodo some good, help him settle down by getting him away from what were obviously now constant reminders of his parents’ tragic misfortune.

The Bagginses had always been a very well-to-do and wealthy family in the Shire and Drogo Baggins had been no exception. Both he and Primula had left Frodo with a tidy sum that would be his when he came of age at thirty-three years. Being adopted by Bilbo had just made Frodo due to become the wealthiest hobbit in the entire Shire and gave him a future which would never have been possible if he were to have stayed in Buckland. Bilbo had every intention of making Frodo his heir and the rest of the lad’s immediate relations had approved heartily. In the long run, it was better for all if the smart, spirited young lad inherited Bag End and the headship of the Baggins family, rather than the obnoxious and greedy Sackville-Bagginses.

It had been apparent to all that Bilbo loved Frodo dearly and would do anything for the lad. Saradoc and Esmeralda had seen over the years that Bilbo’s visits brightened not only Frodo, but the older hobbit as well. Despite all his guff, they could tell that he was sometimes lonely. Once on a visit to see relatives in Tookland, they had stopped to drop Frodo off at Bag End to visit with his uncle for a few days. Upon their return Bilbo’s gardener, Hamfast Gamgee, had remarked to Saradoc just how much Mister Bilbo seemed to delight in young Master Frodo’s stay ... and how sad he was that the lad had to return to Buckland so soon.

Now standing in the library at Brandy Hall, Esmeralda once more tucked the blanket around sleeping nephew and uncle. Bilbo had arrived a day earlier than expected and Esmeralda knew that sometime tomorrow, Rorimac and Saradoc would provide the last two signatures needed in red ink to complete Frodo’s official adoption papers. The lad would be leaving them in a few short days to go start a new life at Bag End in Hobbiton with Bilbo.

Saradoc broke the silence. “I know it’s silly, but I miss the little rascal already,” he whispered above the crackling flames of the fire.

Esmeralda slipped her hand into her husband’s as they stood watching the tranquil scene, forever imprinting it into their memories. Both felt secure and comforted by it, their worrying put to ease.

“We’re doing the right thing, Saradoc, letting him go. He’ll be happy with Bilbo. This is what he needs ... what they both need.”

“Aye, I know.”

Husband and wife watched silently as Bilbo tightened his arms protectively around Frodo, the younger hobbit mumbling in his peaceful sleep, his small smile widening.