A/N: This takes place within my "Last Wish" AU that has Frodo sliding into madness from the strain of the Quest, returning to an innocent, joyful, child-like state after an October 6^th illness with the memory of the horrors he endured still with him but deeply buried as though it was all a tale he read, not a terror he lived through. This story assumes you are familiar with the first one so if you haven't read it, here's your chance - http://www.storiesofarda.com/chapterlistview.asp?SID=4366. It’s one of my favorites. :)

Frodo looked up when Sam opened his bedroom door. He was recovering from a case of the sniffles and Sam had wanted him to stay in bed one extra day just to make sure he wouldn’t have a relapse. Tomorrow was First Yule and Frodo didn’t want to be sick for that.

“You all right, dear?”

The child nearly bounced under his covers. “Yes, Sam! But you can’t come in. I’m making your Yule present and I don’t want you to see it yet.”

Sam smiled as he always did at the joyful energy and love that streamed out of his master-brother-child. Frodo had a large piece of parchment spread on a hard board across his lap and in his hand a piece of charcoal that he was drawing with.

“All right, love, I won’t look, but I just wanted to tell you that supper will be ready in a little bit. You up to coming into the dining room tonight?”

“Yes, Sam. I’m feeling so much better!”

“Good. I’ll come and get you then.”

“All right, Sam.”

The evening passed quietly and happily. After dinner, Frodo stood for a long time at the window watching the snow fall down. Sam knew he wanted to go out and play in it, but was afraid of the dark. “It’ll still be there tomorrow, dear, and then you can go out and play with your cousins. How would you like that?”

The child beamed up at his beloved guardian. “Oh, that would be wonderful, Sam!”

“Well, get a goodnight’s sleep tonight then so you’ll be all ready to go tomorrow.”

Frodo scurried off to his room. He carefully wrapped his presents to Sam, Merry and Pippin, put them in the parlor, went to the privy and scrubbed his face quickly, and then ran back to his bed and buried himself under the covers. Sam came in a few minutes later to kiss him goodnight and he placed a mug of water on the nightstand as he always did in case Frodo woke thirsty in the night.

He listened as child said the prayer Gandalf had taught him as an adult to combat the damage done to him by the Ring. “I come sick to the Healer of life, unclean to the Fountain of mercy, blind to the radiance of eternal Light, poor and needy to the Lord of heaven and earth. I beg Thee to heal my sickness, wash away my defilement, enlighten my blindness, enrich my poverty, and clothe my nakedness. Purify me from evil ways and put an end to my evil passions. Bring me charity and patience, humility and obedience, and growth in the power to do good. Be my strong defense against all my enemies, visible and invisible, and the perfect calming of all my evil impulses, bodily and spiritual. Unite me more closely to You and lead me safely through death to everlasting happiness with You.”

When he had finished, he beamed up at his Sam and held out his arms for his goodnight hug. He didn’t completely understand why he said that prayer anymore than why he wore a white gem around his neck, but he faithfully said it each night and it helped him sleep better. He wrapped his arms around Sam and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, my Sam. I love you very much.”

Sam hugged him back and kissed his head. “Goodnight, my Frodo dear. I love you more.”

Frodo held him tighter. “I love you more more.”

It was a game they played each night and while there was much Sam missed about not having the Frodo he had grown up with and gone on the Quest with, there was also much he loved about the child his master and brother had become. “I love you more more more,” he said.

Frodo giggled. “I love you more more more more!”

Sam laughed and let him go. There was never any winner in their nightly contest as Sam was sure it would go on all night if they continued to try to top each other, so he usually let Frodo have the last word, though he knew of course that he loved Frodo more.

He brought the covers up to his treasure’s chin and tucked him tight. “Now try to get some sleep, my love. You don’t want to be all tuckered out tomorrow.”

Frodo shook with excitement. “I’ll try but I’m so excited, Sam! I just can’t wait for Merry and Pippin to come. Is it still snowing?”

“Yes, harder than ever. Now close your eyes, dear. The night will pass quicker if you sleep through it.”

“Yes, Sam,” Frodo said and obediently closed his eyes with a large smile on his face.

The ‘elder’ hobbit leaned down and brushed at his dear one’s curls and kissed him once more on the brow. “That’s my Frodo,” he murmured.

“I love you, my Sam.”

“I love you too, dearling.”

“I love you better.”

“Sleep, my love.”

Frodo curled on his side. Sam extinguished the oil lamp and quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly open so he could hear if his brother-child needed anything in the night.

Frodo jumped out of bed at dawn, dressed quickly, ran to the window to see how much snow had fallen, then ran to the kitchen where Sam was already up and heating breakfast and getting things ready for all the baking they would be doing that day.

“Happy Yule, Sam!” Frodo said in an excited whisper for he knew that Rosie was still sleeping. “Did you look out and see all the snow? It’ll be so much fun when Merry and Pippin come!”

“Happy Yule, my dear. I don’t think the snow stopped all night.”

“It didn’t. I got up three times just to check!”

Sam laughed softly. “You should have been sleeping, dearling.”

Frodo bounced from foot to foot. “I know, but I just couldn’t all the time. I was too excited.”

“Well, why don’t you get yourself sitted and we’ll have some breakfast and then we’ll start baking before your cousins come. I bet it won’t be until later now that they’ll be here with all this snow. It’ll be a wonder if we can even get the door open.”

A slight frown crossed Frodo’s normally sun-filled features. “You don’t think they won’t be coming, do you?”

“They’ll be here, dear, don’t you fret about that. The snow only started yesterday and they would have been well on the way by then.”

The frown disappeared. Frodo took his place at the kitchen table where he and Sam normally shared first breakfast alone. Sam had discovered that the child Frodo had become was only too eager to start his day and discover what it beheld as opposed to the adult who after the Quest found it hard to rise and feared what was in store. So he had gotten used to rising early himself, sharing second breakfast with Rose and of course with Frodo. He placed a mushroom omelette with a small mug of Yule Nog in front of his treasure and served himself the same. Frodo kept up a steady stream of chatter as he always did, leaving Sam to wonder how he was able to eat so well and quickly at the same time, but he was always the first to finish. Today he was even faster than usual.

When they were done, Sam wiped at the pale yellow moustache the Yule Nog had left around his dear’s mouth, then they set to baking the treats for the day. Under his guardian’s watchful eye, Frodo delighted to make his own creations and watched as his guardian put them into the oven. He couldn’t wait to see what they would look and taste like and he hovered close when Sam took them out. “Careful now, dear. They’re very hot. Let them cool down a bit, then you can test them out.”

Frodo knew testing was even more fun than making and he hopped from foot to foot impatiently and blew on what he made in an effort to get them to cool off faster. At last, Sam thought they would be cool enough that his child wouldn’t burn his fingers or his tongue. Frodo eagerly sampled one of his creations. Then another and another. He ate so much he had only a small second breakfast when Rose rose to the smell of cinnamon and ginger and joined them in the kitchen.

“Look what I made you, Rosie!” Frodo said and gave her a still warm gingerbread hobbit.

“Thank you very much,” she said with a smile. It took all her will not to say ‘Mr. Frodo’ but she had learned not to since the child didn’t understand why.

Frodo smiled back and bounced away to make more. After they were done and cooling, he went to the front door and found it indeed hard to open, but he tried and tried and finally got it open. The snow was deep but not hard packed. Sam got out a shovel from the cellar and cleared a path down to the Row. Frodo following behind, all bundled up, helping out as he could and then he made a snowhobbit and laid out on the snow on his back and spread his arms and legs out to make an impression there as all hobbit lads and lasses liked to do.

They went back in for elvenses and for lunch. In between, Frodo checked on his latest batch of gingerhobbits and wrapped them up for his cousins, sampling one or two for himself. He helped out with the decorations, stringing holly in the living room and around the door, hanging Yule canes and putting out various ornaments and carvings Bilbo had collected over the years, some of dwarven and Elven make. As he did so, he softly sang or hummed Yule tunes from the Shire or Elven songs he had heard. Sam stopped at times just to listen to such a pure, innocent, lovely voice and remember other times the adult Frodo had sang the same melodies. Frodo looked out the window many a time to see if his cousins were coming, but it was not until late afternoon they at last arrived and the quantity of gingerhobbits had decreased since then.

Merry and Pippin hardly got in the door until they were practically bowled over by the enthusiasm of Frodo’s embrace. “Happy Yule, Merry! Happy Yule, Pippin!” he cried joyfully. “Wait until you see what I made you!”

Merry held his cousin tightly. “Happy Yule, Sprout!” he said and Frodo giggled in delight at the nickname. He had no memory that he had once called Merry that and that Merry was actually younger than he was.

“Happy Yule, Frodo!” Pippin said with a hug of his own.

Frodo dragged his cousins and playmates by the hands into the kitchen where Sam greeted them with some mulled cider and Frodo excitedly showed them the gingerhobbits he had made for them. The hungry and cold hobbits ate their fill and then it was almost time for supper. That was indeed a merry affair and they all smiled with great contentment at how happy Frodo was, something they had all longed for and almost despaired of after the Quest. It grieved them still that he had been so harmed, but they couldn’t but be joyful with who had become.

During dinner, his hand around his missing finger began to ache as it did at times during the cold and he held it out to Sam who brought in some salve and massaged the area where the finger had been as Aragorn had taught him to do.

“Why don’t I have a finger there, Sam?” Frodo asked.

There was silence suddenly at the table and the four other hobbits looked at each other. Rose knew little of the details and Frodo and Sam had not told even Merry and Pippin more than the bare bones. It was a question Sam had been dreading since Frodo’s last illness and at last it had come. It was Pippin who spoke up in a teasing voice, not wanting to frighten the child his cousin had become. “Well, you know, someone got real hungry once and bit it right off,” he said.

Frodo laughed, then he looked at Sam who remained quite serious and he grew afraid. Sam took him into his lap and arms as he saw his brother’s lower lip began to tremble and tears form in his eyes. Frodo held on tightly. “Is that what really happened, Sam?”

“Almost, dear. You were wearing something he wanted on that finger and he took it away that way.”

“That pretty ring?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t he just ask for it? I would have given it to him.”

“I guess he thought you wouldn’t.”

Frodo looked up at his guardian with wide, frightened eyes. “Is he going to come back and take more of my fingers?”

Sam kissed his head. “No, dear. He’s gone now and he can’t hurt you no more. Don’t you fret about it anymore.”

He rocked Frodo gently for a little bit, and kissed each of his child’s fingers and Merry and Pippin kissed both his hands. After that Frodo felt quite well protected. His fears left him and his cheer returned.

It was after dinner that Frodo scurried around the parlor where they had retired for tea and opening of the presents. He delighted to stand under the mistletoe and receive kisses on the cheek from his cousins and Sam. Once they were finally settled, he shook each of his presents that were addressed to him, trying to figure out what it was before opening it. He exclaimed in delight at all the different presents he got, from bright red woolen mittens from Pippin, a pair of breeches from Merry and a well of ink and some bound parchment paper from Sam and Rose. He enthusiastically thanked and hugged each of them. The other four couldn’t remember a happier Yule than this one as they hugged their dear one back and reveled in how joyful he was.

Then Frodo passed out his presents to everyone and watched with excited anticipation for their reactions. They all received drawings he had made. Merry and Pippin got a little jolt when they saw themselves dressed as knights of the Riddermark and Gondor. They understood from what Sam had told them that Frodo had no knowledge that he had himself experienced what he sometimes wrote and drew about, but saw it only as tale that was in his memories.

“Thank you, Sprout,” Merry said with a genuine smile and hug. “It’s wonderful.”

“I’m so glad you like it, Merry,” Frodo said as he hugged his cousin back. “I dreamed about it the other night. I’m glad it was only a dream too because you were going into some terrible battle. My brave Merry! I would have been so afraid.”

Merry looked over his dear one’s head at Pippin and Sam. No one said anything about Frodo’s dream being based on something real. Instead Merry kissed his cousin’s head and let him go.

Pippin hugged him next. “Thank you, Cousin. I love my picture too.”

“You’re welcome, Pip.” Frodo held him tightly. “My dream about you was even scarier as you were in battle too and this troll was coming right at you. I was so glad when I woke up!”

Sam opened his present last and tears formed in his eyes as he looked at the beauty of the art he beheld. It was a picture of him holding a sleeping Frodo in his arms during the Quest. Under it was written, Thank you, my Sam.

“Did you dream about this too, my dear?” he asked as he hugged his treasure.

“No, I know that happened,” Frodo said as he returned the embrace and the other four hobbits marveled that he sounded almost like he had always had before his illness had transformed him.

“Thank you, dear.”

“No, my Sam, thank you. Happy Yule.”

Sam kissed his head. “Happy Yule, love.”

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The prayer that Frodo said originally appeared in “One Heart Protecting Another” and is adapted from parts of two from St. Thomas Aquinas.