22 Halimath, 1393

Frodo was anxiously awaiting Bilbo in the parlor, trying not to hop from foot to hairy foot, and only partially succeeding. Finally the elder hobbit appeared, turned out in his best clothing. Frodo had himself risen early and made sure he was also dressed appropriately for the big day, his curls neatly combed head and foot, his face clean and bright. Even the ink stains were washed from his fingers as best as could be, though he didn’t think Bilbo would mind them since he had some of his own and Frodo actually rather fancied his stains as it gave him something else in common with his beloved uncle.

“Ah, there you are, Frodo, my lad, and a happiest of birthdays to you!” Bilbo said cheerily.

“And to you, Uncle!” Frodo answered with a smile and held out his present.

“Oh, what do you have there?” the elder hobbit said as he looked curiously at the carefully wrapped gift.

Frodo hopped a little more excitedly as his uncle took the gift and just as carefully unwrapped it. “A book and oh, in your own writing, my lad. What a marvelous surprise. What a marvelous surprise.”

Bilbo put it down and hugged his beloved nephew tightly. “Thank you, my boy. Thank you very much. I see those lessons in Sindarin have really taken. I shall enjoy many an evening reading it all. I’m sorry that my gift to you is not so grand.”

Frodo buried his head in his uncle’s chest and hugged him back just as tightly. “You’re welcome, Bilbo. Just being here is gift enough for me.”

“Oh, no, my darling boy, I do have something else for you. And it will be all ready for you come luncheon.”

Frodo looked up and Bilbo looked into those beautiful, shining eyes and that lovely face and hugged him again. “Thank you, Uncle! I can’t wait!”

“Now hurry along and let’s have breakfast before Merry and Pippin come or there might not be anything left!”

Frodo laughed, a full, lyrical, wonderful sound. Bilbo kicked himself again for not adopting him earlier. What joy such a lad and such a sound made in his home and heart. Four years now and their love for each other grew all the while.

They entered the kitchen. Sam was just finishing up setting the table.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Frodo!” the teen cried happily.

“Thank you, my Sam!”

“And you, Mr. Bilbo!”

Bilbo smiled warmly. “Thank you, Samwise, and thank you very much for this feast you’ve concocted. It smells most scrumptious.”

Sam blushed. “You’re welcome, Mr. Bilbo.”

Frodo brought his hand out from around his back. “Here’s your present, Sam. I hope you like it.”

The younger hobbit’s eyes widened as he took the gift and reverently unwrapped it. “Oh, Mr. Frodo,” he breathed. “It’s all in Elvish. Thank you!”

He hugged his friend tightly.

“I copied the primer Bilbo made for me,” Frodo said as he hugged Sam back. “Now that you are learning Westron so quickly, I thought you would like this one too.”

Sam let go, then rubbed his thumb slowly over the leather cover and then the first page, all filled with Frodo’s flowing script, almost as beautiful as he was himself. Almost. Sam already knew there could be nothing more beautiful than his Frodo.

“I know what my Gaffer will say, but I’ll treasure it forever, Mr. Frodo. I will.”

Frodo smiled, quite pleased with the glow on the face of the brother of his heart, the second one, he had. He was so happy! “I’m glad you like it so much, Sam.”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten. Now sit down, Mr. Frodo, if you please, because you don’t want everything to get cold. I made all your favorites.”

Frodo smiled as Sam put down his book and pulled out the chair for his future master.

“Thank you, my Sam. It all looks and smells positively delicious! Bilbo tells me something more is coming by lunch. You must come in after your chores are in and take part. And I hope you can stay tonight. Merry and Pippin are coming and we will all just have a ball.”

“I don’t think my Gaffer would take to that, Mr. Frodo.”

“Ask your mum then, Sam,” Bilbo suggested with a wink. “He won’t go against anything she says. Or if he does, tell him that I asked that you stay.”

“Well, I suppose I could try. He let me stay last year after all, but he didn’t like it.”

“Well, no harm in asking, my boy.”

“No, I suppose not. I truly would like to stay.”

“Then it’s settled. Thank you so much for making breakfast, Sam. There’ll be a little extra in your pay as my gift to you.”

Sam blushed. “Thank you very much, Mr. Bilbo sir. That is very kind of you, but you need not do it.”

“Nonsense, my boy. You deserve it and much more. Frodo and I are so happy with all the help you give us. We can’t ever repay you as you truly deserve.”

The teen looked down at his feet, sure he was as red as a tomato from crown to toe. Then he looked back up. “I would do it for free, Mr. Bilbo.”

“But you never shall, my lad. Thank you again.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bilbo!”

Sam smiled at both his present and future masters who smiled warmly back.

* * *

The morning passed quickly. Merry and Pippin arrived just before elevenses. “You didn’t think they would miss it, now, did you?” Bilbo said.

Merry ran into his cousin’s outstretched arms as Frodo knelt to hug him tight. “Frodo! Frodo!”

“Oh, my Merry! It’s so wonderful to see you!”

Pippin ran also as fast his little legs could take him, clamoring for attention and hugs of his own. Frodo disentangled himself from Merry’s arms and scooped up his younger cousin, barely more than a faunt.

“Hello, ’squeak!”

“Careful,” Merry said a bit belatedly as Pippin’s jam-smeared fingers pulled themselves through Frodo’s curls and he giggled happily.

There was also a grape jelly mark on Frodo’s cheek where Pippin had enthusiastically kissed it. “F’do! F’do!” he cried.

“You have come just in time, for Bilbo’s about to give me my present and you all must share in it. Sam will be in in just a few minutes.”

They made it to the kitchen, Merry holding onto one of Frodo’s hands while Frodo held Pippin in his other arm. It was quite a challenge to keep the youngster still on his lap while they waited for Bilbo and Sam.

“Close your eyes now, Frodo, my lad,” Bilbo called from outside.

“But Sam’s not here yet!” Frodo protested. “We can’t start without him!”

“He’s right behind me. Are your eyes closed now?”

The younger birthday boy closed his eyes obediently, tightening his grip on the squirming lad in his lap. “Yes, Uncle!”

Frodo heard Merry gasp at his side and his anticipation and excitement heightened. His sensitive nose picked up delectable aroma of mushrooms. “Can I open my eyes yet, Uncle?”

Bilbo gave one look at his lovely lad and smiled. He wished there was a way he could preserve each and every different expression of light and love and joy Frodo had.

“Yes, I think it would be safe now.”

Frodo’s eyes opened and he gasped himself at the sight of a basket full of mushrooms arrayed around some mashed yellow eggs that had been placed into the bowl formed by the white of the egg. “Oh, Uncle! They look so scrumptious! Are they all for me? And did you make those eggs, Sam? Those are my very favorite.”

Bilbo laughed. “You can have as many as your stomach can hold, my boy, but no more!”

Sam beamed and blushed. “Yes, Mr. Frodo, I knew you loved those.”

“Well, you must all help me. I can’t eat them all.”

Pippin needed no further urging. He had already been tugging and pulling away, his short arms trying to reach out for the basket since he had first seen it.

“No, Pip, let Frodo have some first. It’s his birthday.”

“No, Merry, he can have first pick. That’ll be my gift to him. How’s that, my Pipsqueak?”

“’rooms, F’do!”

Frodo picked out an exceptionally big one and pulled off a piece that Pippin eagerly ate and held out his hand for more. The elder hobbit happily fed him the entire mushroom, bit by bit, and then took some for his own. The next hour was spent by five happily munching hobbits. Pippin had put his fingers into the mashed eggs and got himself merrily very messy and Frodo’s cheek and hair and clothing were similarly marred.

After the meal which had lingered onto into lunch, the two hobbits then spent some time in the bath which Pippin happily splashing about and then running out of the room with nothing but a delighted squeal. Merry scooped him up as he hurtled down the hallway and got him re-dressed.

* * *

Bilbo shooed them out of the smial in the afternoon for he was going to be making the cake then. He put his fingers up to his lips when he saw that Pippin come into the kitchen and very solemnly the child mimicked the gesture and carefully tiptoed backward out of the room.

Frodo took Merry by the hand as they were leaving and held Pippin in his arm. Sam followed on beside them, a few steps behind. They reached Frodo’s favorite place to read not too long after.

“Did your Gaffer say it was all right for you to stay tonight, Sam?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, Mr. Frodo. It was really my mum that did it.”

Frodo squeezed his friend’s hand. “I’m glad, Sam. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

They all settled down, Merry leaning on Frodo’s left side and Sam on his right and Pippin in his lap. Frodo drew out a book with many pictures on it that he knew would entertain the wee one. Pippin’s fingers reached out and covered the pages sometimes or was always trying to turn them before Frodo was finished. The elder hobbit had quite a time trying to keep the pages clean and unripped as the child was a bundle of energy and curiosity. The text was in Sindarin which coming out of Frodo’s mouth, sounded as magical and lyrical as anything Sam had ever heard, even though he couldn’t understand much of it. Frodo then translated it into Westron but Sam decided he liked the way it sounded in Sindarin better. He closed his eyes and imagined the day he would meet Elves himself. It was a wonderful time for them all because they were all together.

After Frodo had finished reading, the spell remained for a few moments longer for Sam, then he opened his eyes again and smiled at his future master. “That was just that beautiful, Mr. Frodo,” he said.

“Yes, it was,” Merry agreed.

Frodo put the book away into his pack, then drew something out some candied sweets for Pippin, which he hadn’t dared to before for fear of his book having gummy fingerprints everywhere. The child gobbled them up.

Frodo then pulled out something else and presented it to Merry. “This is my gift to you, my Merry-lad.”

The young hobbit looked at the curiously shaped present, then his eyes widened as he tore into it. “A kite, Frodo! A kite! Oh, thank you, Frodo, thank you!”

The elder hobbit was bowled over by the enthusiasm of his cousin’s embrace.

“Well, go and try it, dearest!” he said as he had hugged Merry back.

They spent a good hour playing and running with it and the laughter and wonder of them all ran out into the wide meadow.

They then settled down for a nap, all curled up around each other. Sam knew the Gaffer would have a few things to say or at least grumble about, but he knew his mum would understand why he valued his Frodo’s birthday over his own.

“He’s just that beautiful, mum,” he had said once. “I would serve him for free and forever.”

“You can’t do that, son,” the Gaffer had said. “Forever, yes, for that’s your place, but you’ve got yourself to mind too and free don’t pay for nothing.”

“I still would do it, if he’d let me.”

“Not your place to set your fee, but to obey him in all particulars.”

“Yes, Da.”

“But you are right, Sam,” his mum had said with a smile. “He is very beautiful.”

Sam’s face had burst into a huge smile himself.

And so it went. Sam knew Mr. Bilbo and his Mr. Frodo were the kindest and most generous of gentlehobbits and embarrassed him much over how free they were with their wealth toward him. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he gave them back all they give to him so freely from their hearts and more. He didn’t have the riches they did and knew he never would, but he had love and he was not going to stint on that anymore than they held back on giving to him.

When the four returned from their play, Sam walked several paces behind everyone, mindful of his place. Bell Gamgee watched them come up the Row and waved back as Sam waved at her. She knew her husband didn’t hold with how “familiar” their son was with his future master, but he had not done more than grumble to her and try to correct him. Sam well knew his place, Bell thought, and she knew some things about her Sam’s understanding of that place, that her husband didn’t see. She often watched the two walk off together and her son was always a pace or two behind, but then when they were just about to turn a bend, Bell would often see Frodo stop and turn, smile and hold out his hand and Sam would eagerly run the couple steps to take it and their mutual lights flare as their hands met. Yes, Bell thought, her Sam knew his place very well.

* * *

The evening meal was delightful and afters even more so as Bilbo presented the cake he had been slaving over that afternoon. He brought it out to the Party Tree where there was huge tent erected for the joint party held every year that was the highlight of Hobbiton social life. Frodo enjoyed himself enormously the entire time. It had been futile to try to keep Pippin clean and they hadn’t even tried, so he was wearing as much cake around his mouth, on his sticky fingers and on his clothes as he made it into his mouth. The four of them played ‘you hide and seek me’ and had a grand time, though Pippin hadn’t yet learned all the rules of the game. It was the highlight of the evening. It did Bilbo’s heart great good to hear his beloved cousin and nephew shrieking so in delight and running around as though he had all the energy in the world. Well, the old hobbit, thought with a chuckle, he needs that, just to keep up with that Took.

After the cake was throughly enjoyed by the dozens of party goers, the last bits eaten and fingers licked, there was still the bowl in which the ingredients had been mixed. But that was back in the Bag End kitchen and Bilbo smiled as three hobbits raced in and trailed their fingers through the left over frosting. Pippin again got as much flour and confectionary on his self as in his mouth and they all knew he and Frodo would need another bath before the night was out. Sam hung back though. He was breaking enough rules, he thought, all ready.

“Come on, Sam!” Frodo called. “There’s enough here for you, too. You can’t be left out of the fun.”

Sam approached hesitantly. “Is it truly all right, Mr. Frodo?”

“Of course, my Sam. Dig in before this hunger monster of a Took takes everything. I swear he must have more than ten fingers.”

Frodo looked down at his cousin’s tiny feet to see if they were taking their turns too, but they were clean, at least of frosting. He pulled Pippin away to wipe at his face and fingers before they could sticky up his curls anymore. Yes, definitely they would need another bath.

He looked up at Sam who had a bit of frosting around his lips now and was licking his fingers and the two smiled at each other, their lights flaring and melding. Bilbo smiled.

* * *

After Frodo and Pippin were clean once more, Frodo gave his uncle a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle! This was the best birthday ever! I love you so much.”

Bilbo hugged him back and kissed that dear head. “For me, too, my lad. You are quite welcome! I love you even more.”

Bilbo checked on them after they had retired to Frodo’s bed for the night. Merry was curled up on his cousin’s left side, one arm protectively across his chest. Sam was on Frodo’s right, one arm as well across his future master’s chest. Pippin had been put into the crib that Bilbo and Frodo had both used at that age, but he had crawled out and curled up next to Frodo as well, near Merry.

The old hobbit smiled. It would be some time before he gave into his restless legs and followed them out of the Shire, but he knew when he did, his Frodo would be in the best of hands.