Thank you, shirebound, for betaing!

Of the Giving of Gifts

Year: 1379
Author notes: Marmadoc is an OC who is about 3 years older than Frodo.

“Frodo? Are you there, Frodo?”

Primula walked across the garden outside her home. She wrapped her shawl tighter about her but shivered nonetheless. It was the last day of the year, and a chill wind blew. Frost lay on the bare trees around her and turned them into crystal-covered sentinels of the road which led to her family’s smial. Primula gazed at them searchingly, looking for a sign of her son. Ever since the mail had arrived around lunch time Frodo had been uncommonly quiet and reserved. Something was on his mind, and it was high time she found out what it was.

“I’m here.”

Her boy sat on a bench next to the pond, now frozen, that Drogo had designed especially for her. Primula smiled, hardly surprised to find him there. Frodo loved the pond, and the small animals which gathered there during the warm seasons.

“You look troubled.” She sat down next to him and breathed into her fingers. Frodo looked at her but did not reply. He was clad in the crimson cloak she had given him for Yule. It was too long for him – even his head seemed to drown in the huge hood – but Primula was convinced Frodo would grow into it by next autumn. Right this moment, however, he looked decidedly unhappy and very small. The dark curls which peeked out from beneath his hood hung into his downcast eyes. Primula put an arm around his shoulders. “What’s the matter, dearest?”

Frodo sighed heavily as he leaned against her. “He didn’t give me anything at all.”

“Who?” Primula frowned.

“Cousin Marmadoc,” Frodo told her crossly. “I sent him the dices for Yule but he didn’t send anything back at all. No mathom, nothing.” Frodo turned to face her, his bright blue eyes full of sadness and incomprehension. “He should have sent me a present!”

“My dear,” Primula said and pulled him a little closer to kiss his forehead. This year Frodo had been eager to choose all the presents on his own. Some were mathoms, some, like that for his cousin Marmadoc, had been a little more. Frodo had enjoyed coming up with ideas for everyone, and was dearly disappointed when he found out that he would not be in Buckland to hand them out in person. He only relaxed when Primula assured him that sending the gifts out early would ensure that they would arrive on time.

“That’s not what gift giving is all about,” Primula tried to explain. “It’s not about expecting something in return.”

“But everybody gives something back,” Frodo insisted.

Primula nodded. “Usually you get a present in return, but it is not what it’s all about. You’re not expected to, do you understand?”

Frodo shook his head and looked even more disappointed than before.

“Yule is about the giving of gifts,” Primula explained. “Do you remember how excited you were when you chose presents for everyone?”

Frodo nodded and Primula smiled. “That’s what you do at Yule. You give gifts to those you love to make them happy, because this is also what makes you happy. Of course, it is nice to get a present as well, but you don’t have to give something back. You see, presents shouldn’t be an obligation. You shouldn’t feel that you have to find something for somebody simply because they gave something to you. It’s all about seeing the happiness in the faces of those you give a present to.”

“But I didn’t get to see them,” Frodo pointed out. “So it was all in vain and I shouldn’t have bothered to make presents.”

“Not at all,” Primula said and tilted his chin up so she could look into his eyes. “You chose presents because you knew they would please someone. That is enough. That feeling.”

Frodo raised an eyebrow. “That’s stupid. I’d rather get presents.”

“I don’t doubt that you feel that way this year,” Primula smiled and pulled Frodo’s hood down to ruffle his hair. “But one day you will understand. Now, however, I’d be glad if we went back inside. I’m chilled to the bone.”

Frodo grinned, took her freezing fingers into his hand and jumped from the bench.

~*~*~

11 years later

Frodo sat at his desk in his room; a pile of unopened letters lay in front of him while he studied another. The flickering light of a candle illuminated his cheerful face, and his smile grew wider with every sentence he read. His dear Merry! The lad stumbled over his own tongue even in letters when he was excited. And excited he was! The marbles had been an excellent idea, and although Frodo regretted not being able to give them to him in person his young cousin’s joy was obvious even so. Every word made Frodo’s heart swell with delight and, oh, to have been there when Merry unwrapped his gift!

Frodo had sent it out early with a note for Saradoc to give it to Merry on the evening of Yule since Frodo himself was celebrating his first Yule in Hobbiton. The holidays passed far more quietly than they did in Buckland and Frodo missed feasting in Brandy Hall, but at the same time he had found himself enjoying a more peaceful celebration with Bilbo.

He also grew aware of another thing. He had received many presents from the Tooks and Bagginses and also from his closest Brandybuck relatives, but they were fewer than usual. Frodo loved presents, but this year he realised that he didn’t need them so much as he used to. Letters like the one from Merry and that which Saradoc and Esmeralda had sent him were enough to keep him happy.

Besides, Merry had not forgotten him either. Securely wrapped up in a piece of cloth Frodo found a star made of straw. One of its tines was broken, and the strings which held the blades were not as tight as they would have been had cousin Esme tied them herself.

He beamed and turned the straw star in his hands as he gazed to the mantelpiece from where his parents’ smiling faces looked down at him. His mother had been right after all. The spirit of Yule did not lie in the receiving of many gifts, but in the giving… and the love that lay behind whatever was received, such as Merry’s star. And as Frodo watched, it seemed to him that his mother’s face was smiling with pride.

~THE END~