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Gandalf thought over his conversations with Mirimë and with Bilbo. He knew very well the sorts of questions Frodo would have; indeed, it was no surprise that they had occurred to a hobbit like Frodo.
Bilbo, of course, was as learned as his younger cousin—perhaps even more so, as he had studied the Elven tales far longer, both in the Shire and in Rivendell. But Bilbo was more accepting of things as they are, rather than as they could have been. The older Baggins seldom second-guessed his own decisions or regretted his past. His was a cheerful and optimistic nature, very Tookish, in fact. But he did worry about Frodo, perhaps because though he knew why Frodo’s temperament tended to melancholy and thoughtfulness, he did not really understand what to make of it.
Frodo was half Brandybuck, for one thing. And while Brandybucks were a practical clan, they also tended more than most hobbits to look to the future. Gandalf chuckled to remember Merry’s long watch over his older cousin—all to insure that in the event Frodo ever left the Shire, he could not give Merry the slip. Frodo’s loss of his parents at a young age had also had an effect, for it made Frodo only too aware of how easily life could drastically change in circumstances. Add to that his Tookish prescience, and the suffering and hard-won wisdom of the Quest to destroy the Ring. Frodo was in every way not only a remarkable hobbit, but a remarkable person altogether.
But the questions Frodo would have now, as he pondered on the history of his people were the very questions that needed to be asked if Frodo were to heal.
And Gandalf hoped that he could provide the answers his young friend needed to hear.
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