Frodo ran into the bedroom of his parents and leapt into their bed. He tugged at his mother. “Get up, Mummy! It’s my birthday! You have to see what I have for you!”

Primula opened her eyes and joyfully drowned in the sight of her most fair son. Every morning he greeted her and Drogo this way, so full of life and cheer. She did not miss the sun even on the cloudiest days for his own light brought the sun to her.  She smiled and hugged him. “Happy birthday, my dearest lad!”

Frodo held out flowers to her. “I got them from the garden just before I came in here.”

Primula took them and kissed his brow. “Le hannon, my beautiful boy.”

Frodo giggled. “Did Uncle Bilbo teach you to talk Elvish?”

Primula smiled. “I wanted to give you a gift too, you see, so I asked him to teach me.”

“It’s pretty when you say it.”

“And even more fair when you do so, my lad.”

Frodo looked over at his father, who pretended still to be asleep. “Papa! Wake up!”

Drogo cracked open one eye. “I suppose I won’t be able to sleep anymore with all the racket you two are making. You would think it was a special day or something.”

Frodo laughed. “It is, Papa! It’s my birthday! I’m ten today!” He tugged at his father. “Get up, Papa, or you won’t see what I got you.”

Drogo sat up. Rather than have his lad fall into his arms as always, he and Primula watched Frodo scramble off the bed and out of the room. The two shared amused grins and then saw their boy re-enter  and slowly get back onto the bed, being quite careful with what he held in both hands and held out to his father.

“Here’s my present for you, Papa!”

Drogo just as carefully took a pipe from Frodo’s small hands and examined it while his boy bounced on the bed in anticipation. “It is beautiful, my lad! I shall start using this very night! Wherever did you get it?”

Frodo hugged his father. “I’m so glad you like it, Papa! Uncle Bilbo said you would. He got it from the Elves and said I should give it on our next birthday. He said what you suck on is pearl. What does that mean, Papa? Cousin Pearl is just a little lass and she’s the only one I know with that name.”

“Your Uncle would probably know more than than I do, my boy. I think they come from something near the sea called oysters.”

Frodo bounced excitedly. “The Sea! Do you think we could see it one day, Papa?”

“Mayhap, my lad.”

Frodo cheered and then tugged at both his parents’ arms. “You have to get up now, so we can be ready when Uncle Bilbo comes!”

Drogo and Primula looked over their son’s head and smiled. They gladly followed orders and made Frodo his favorite mushroom omelette and let him slather all the jam he wanted onto it. Most of it thankfully made it into his mouth, though some of it decorated his cheeks and around his lips and a bit on his clothes.

Bilbo arrived early in the afternoon. Frodo had hurried through his washing so he would be ready. He rushed to answer the bell and threw his arms around the elder hobbit. “Happy birthday, Uncle!”

Bilbo scooped Frodo into an joyful embrace. “And to you, my lad! Are you having the best birthday ever?”

“I am! I am ten today! How old are you, Uncle?”

“Well, if you are ten, then I must be 88.”

Frodo’s eyes widened. “That’s old! I don’t know anyone that old.”

“Well, yes it is, and now you do. Are you glad?”

Frodo giggled. “Yes, because it’s you, Uncle! I hope to get that old. Imagine all the adventures we could have!”

“Indeed, my lad. I am sure you will lots of adventures when you grow up.”

“Just like yours? You would come with me, wouldn’t you, and Mummy and Papa?”

“Of course. Adventures are no fun just by yourself. You need lots of friends with you.”

“Maybe we can even go one while you are here.”

“Mayhap we can, my lad, just a wee one.”

“Yea!”

Frodo squirmed out of Bilbo’s arms. “Let me get my present to you.” The boy ran off and returned soon with a small pouch.

Bilbo smelled it appreciatively. “Longbottom Leaf!” He hugged his favorite cousin. “You are too good to me, my lad.”

“Papa helped me get it. I knew you would like it!”

“And now I have your present.” Bilbo handed the lad a small, flat piece of parchment. “Open it up, my boy.”

Carefully Frodo undid the bit of string around it and opened it up. He touched in wonder the runes printed on it and ran his fingers through the tassel. He hugged his uncle. “Thank you, Uncle! I love it! It’s just like the ones I’ve seen in your books. Is that Elvish written on it? What does it say?”

“Indeed, my lad. It says Edinor veren, Iorhael! That’s your name in their tongue, don’t you know. They are wishing you a joyous anniversary day. That is their way to wish you happy birthday. And now you can use it to mark all your favorite places in your books.”

Frodo’s eyes widened. “You mean the Elves made this just for me?!”

“Yes, I asked for it last time I saw them. You are well known among them. They do not know quite what to make of you, for you seem with your beauty and light, more akin to them, and yet you are also a hobbit. They have named you an Elf-friend, see?”

Frodo looked again at the gift. “Can we try to meet them tonight? I want to thank them for making it for me.”

“Perhaps. If not tonight, I daresay you will meet them up close one day.”