Bilbo woke up quite early on the morning the furniture from Brandy Hall was to arrive--after all, delivery was scheduled to occur any time between first breakfast and afternoon tea. He was quite surprised when the Master of Buckland himself arrived with the cart, along with his son, Saradoc, and his youngest brother, Dinodas.

“Good Day, Bilbo!” Old Rory called out heartily. He and his son were driving the cart, while Dino followed along behind them, riding on a grey-dappled pony.

“Oh my! I wasn’t expecting any of you to be the ones to make this delivery,” Bilbo hailed his first cousins of varying degrees.

“Sara here wanted to make sure you’re fixing up the place nice for Frodo’s arrival,” Old Rory replied, only in half-jest. He eased himself to the ground with a grunt, brushing the dust from his fine clothes. “Let me assure you, Bilbo, that it was no easy task getting all this here. Frodo’s curiosity is as strong as ever and we had to load the cart up before sunrise, just so we knew he would be asleep. We were all afraid he'd see his parents’ things and either figure you out ... or get the wrong idea completely and think we were getting rid of it all.”

Saradoc came to stand next to his father and laughed. “Aye,” he agreed. “I had to tell him Dad, Uncle Dino, and I had to go away on business for a few days and that he was in charge of seeing to it that little Merry stays out of trouble.”

Now it was Dino’s turn to laugh. “Seems that’s the only way you can keep young Frodo from getting into trouble himself. He’s less apt to find mischief if he’s watching that clever son of yours, Sara.”

“After all,” Rory added, “It takes one rascal to know one.”

Bilbo frowned. “Has Frodo been misbehaving again?” The lad had promised him he would be good and stay out of trouble although Frodo had not yet known about his uncle's request of adoption yet. Of course, Frodo had been crying at the time as Bilbo had helped Esmeralda to clean the lad’s dirty, bloodied, torn back and bottom from where the irate Farmer Maggot had thrashed him soundly for trespassing and stealing mushrooms. The child had been terrified of the three large, seemingly-viscous dogs the farmer owned and had kept crying out that he would be a good lad each time a welt stung when they gently wiped it clean.

It was during this particular incident, in the midst of a family meeting called by Esmeralda and Saradoc, that Bilbo had decided to legally adopt Frodo as his heir.* Once Frodo was made privy to this news regarding his care and future and had given his own consent at the arrangement, the lad had again made a solemn promise to his favorite uncle that he would stay out of mischief until the time came for him to move to Hobbiton.

Rory sighed at his oldest first-cousin’s question. “Not really, Bilbo. Frodo’s behavior has improved considerably since your last visit … at least he’s not done anything that could qualify as terrorizing Buckland. I hate to say it, but it seems his run-in with Farmer Maggot and his dogs did Frodo some good.”

Rory placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I think a permanent change of scenery will do our nephew some good as well. It’s been years now since the accident and his melancholy and mischief only seem to grow worse with each passing year, despite whatever we all try with the lad.”

An uncomfortable silence followed broken only by Dino, who suggested they start to unload the cart. The Gaffer and Hamson soon arrived from Number 3 and helped the gentlehobbits finish unloading the cart and carry the heavy pieces into the bare bedroom in Bag End, putting them where Mr. Bilbo directed.

The two Gamgees returned home for luncheon, politely declining Mr. Bilbo’s invitation to stay for a bite to eat. Bilbo served a quick, yet delicious lunch to his guests who really did have to travel further to Michel Delving on true business. After their corners were filled, Master Little and his apprentice arrived with the new desk set. Bilbo saw to it the desk was placed in its proper spot in the bedroom and praised Master Little’s high-quality craftsmanship.

Saradoc eyed the desk, knowing that Frodo would just love it and suddenly felt more at ease than he had thus far about Frodo’s adoption. There was no doubt that Bilbo most certainly loved the little lad dearly, but he could plainly see that Bilbo would go to any length to make certain Frodo was well-cared for and would never want for anything, without making the boy overly spoiled in the process.

Saradoc ran his hand over the beautiful desk. His father had been right. Despite all appearances, he had been uncertain about Frodo moving here to live with a 99-year old hobbit, who despite being a lifelong bachelor, inexplicably seemed to be the best solution for Frodo's future in more ways than one.

Saradoc also felt a touch inadequate--he and his wife had tried so very hard for nine long years to help the orphan come to terms with his loss and to living life in Buckland. He felt like he hadn’t tried his best with the lad, that he hadn’t paid him enough attention even though he had … well, he had at first, but then Merry came along, which was no excuse. He could try to be a father all he wanted and talk until he was blue in the face, but he could not make Frodo listen unless the orphaned child was ready to be a willing participant.

Saradoc had given very little protest when Bilbo had informed them all of his intent to formally adopt Frodo. He knew it was for the best. Frodo was suffocating in Brandy Hall and had been for quite some time. But what was it about Bilbo Baggins that caught Frodo’s attention and made him want to listen that Saradoc did not have?

He loved Frodo dearly and he already missed the lad, even though Frodo hadn't moved yet. Over the years of fostering the child, Frodo had become more of another son to him and Esmeralda, rather than just being their very much younger cousin. In fact, Frodo was in some ways the couple's first child, rather than their own son, Merry.

Saradoc sighed heavily. Frodo would have so much more of a future in Hobbiton and be able to know his father's Baggins family better. Bilbo would be able to give the boy so much more than he and Esme would ever have been able to. Frodo was getting the opportunity of a lifetime by being adopted by the old hobbit. He would someday become Master in his own right, inherit wealth unimaginable, and also have the opportunity to become head of the Baggins family ... none of which he would have had if he were to remain at Brandy Hall.

When the three hobbits from Buckland departed in their now-empty cart, Saradoc shook Bilbo’s hand firmly before enfolding the old hobbit in a warm embrace. “Just make him happy again, Bilbo,” he implored before joining his father and uncle.

“I will try to the best of my ability, Saradoc Brandybuck. That is all I can promise--the rest is up to Frodo,” Bilbo replied.

* * * * *

That night as Bilbo polished Drogo and Primula’s furniture with the pine-scented oil and rag Bell Gamgee had recommended, he thought about Saradoc’s words. What if Frodo was no happier here than he was at Brandy Hall?

“Nonsense! That boy worships the ground you walk upon, Bilbo Baggins,” he admonished, rubbing the oil into the old wood until he could see his reflection in the grain. “ … Although I haven’t the faintest idea why.”

No, Frodo seemed to love him as much as Bilbo loved his most favorite of relations in return. And all you needed was love, as his mother used to say when asked how an adventurous Took could marry a boring, predictable Baggins.

For whatever strange reasoning Fate had, Bilbo knew that he and Frodo belonged with one another for now at least. He absently fingered the magic ring on its chain in his pocket, as he made sure he had missed no spots with the oiling rag on the piece of furniture.

Comforted, Bilbo finished his polishing and went to bed, for tomorrow was another day and he had a new feather mattress and seat cushion to see to.

* * * * *

*The Brandybuck family meeting concerning Frodo was first referred to in my story, 'Contentment'