~One~

“They go on very high, Mr. Frodo, are you sure it’s safe?” Sam asked when they stood just inside the secret passage, which opened from a wooden panel in a hallway near the back of the smial.

“Yes,” Frodo said. “I’ll go last, if that will make you feel safer, and I can catch you if you fall, all right, Sam?”

Sam nodded and started up the steep stairs. Frodo followed close behind, keeping a protective hand on Sam’s back to steady him.

The stairs curved and wound up in a circular pattern for about sixteen steps, then Sam stopped. “There’s a trap door, Mr. Frodo!”

He pushed it open above him and gazed around the room above in wonder, his brown eyes open wide.

“What’s there, Sam? What do you see?” Frodo asked from below.

“Looks like a lot of old mathoms, Mr. Frodo!”

“Head on up, Sam, my lad,” Frodo said, urging the boy forward. “I want to see.”

The two boys hurried up and stood there for a moment, awed that a room so large actually existed above their beloved smial.

“I always thought Bag End was dug a little deep,” Frodo murmured. “It had to be to make room for this.”

They wandered about the room, examining the old artifacts – books, random objects, musty old clothing, various pieces of furniture. There was a trunk in one corner all filled with strange hats, and they stop for a moment to pick one out to wear.

“Perhaps you could take this floppy top hat, or the strange knit one,” Frodo said, showing Sam a blue and red knit cap.

“I’ll take the knit one,” Sam said, slipping it on and grinning as Frodo put on the top hat. He giggled and Frodo mock-glared at him.

“What’s so funny, Sam?” he asked sarcastically.

“You should see yourself Mr. Frodo. You look hysterical in that!” Sam exclaimed, handing him a dirty hand mirror.

Frodo looked at himself, then laughed. “I do look rather odd, don’t I?” He handed the mirror back to Sam. “See what you look like.” He turned and began digging through a stack of old books.

Sam looked at his reflection and giggled again.

Suddenly Frodo froze. “Sam, come look!” he exclaimed.

Sam came and looked over Frodo’s shoulder at the old, weathered piece of paper. “What is it?”

“It’s a map, Sam!” Frodo said. “A treasure map! And it’s of Hobbiton!”

“Really? You mean there’s hid treasure and we can find it with this?”

Frodo nodded. “Are you up for a treasure hunt today Sam?”

“You’ll have to ask my Mum. She’s supposed to be watching out for you, remember?” Sam reminded him.

Frodo paused a moment. He smiled at Sam. “What would become of me without you, Sam?” he asked. He liked the fact that Sam meant to keep him accountable to some grown up so as not to get in trouble.

“You’d be in bug trouble without me, Mr. Frodo,” Sam replied, smiling at his friend.

The two lads hurried back down the stairs. Sam went more slowly and stayed safely behind Frodo so he wouldn’t fall.

“Perhaps we should get something to eat before we go treasure hunting,” Frodo suggested, hearing his stomach rumble.

They dashed out the door and headed back to Sam’s hole.

“Do you think your Mum has food ready for us?” Frodo asked as the two walked up the path to the smial.

“I hope so,” Sam said. “Treasure hunting makes me hungry!”

“Me too!” Frodo exclaimed.

Just at that moment the door to the smial opened and a small blur rushed out and leapt into Frodo’s arms.

“Frodo! I’ve missed you so much!” the hobbit lad exclaimed, his arms entwined around Frodo’s neck.

“Merry-lad! What are you doing here?” he questioned, stunned to see his cousin at the Gamgee house.

“Uncle Bilbo brought me.” The lad turned to look at Sam, and shrunk back a little. “Who’s he?” he asked Frodo.

“Where are your manners, Merry?” Frodo chided the boy. “This is my friend Sam Gamgee. He’s only two years older than you.”

“Is he nice?” the lad asked, again not speaking to Sam.

“Yes, he’s a lot nicer than you, my lad,” Frodo teased. Then he turned to Sam with a smile. “Sam, this incredibly rude rascal is my cousin Merry.”

“Hi, Sam,” Merry said, shyly. “Frodo’s told me lots about you in his letters. You’d better be taking care of him.” He looked at Sam with an expression his parents often displayed, which he pulled off quite well for an eight year old hobbit.

“Yes, Mr. Merry! I’m takin’ good care of him!” Sam assured him.

“Well, I see he found you!” Bilbo said, coming out of the hole. “I decided to come home early,” he said to Frodo’s confused look. “Come now! Luncheon is nearly ready!”