Bilbo's Gifts by Llinos and Marigold
"His gold and silver was largely spent in presents, both useful and extravagant - which to a certain extent accounts for the affection of his nephews and his nieces." "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien
But some of Bilbo's gifts were even more generous and long-lasting than the recipients could have guessed...
Bilbo's Gifts - Frodo
by Llinos
beta Marigold
22nd September 1371
"Bilbo Baggins - that is far too great a gift for a three year old!" Drogo Baggins frowned at the magnificent gold pocket watch as he turned it over in his hand "Why he'll break it in a moment."
"Nonsense!" Bilbo snorted, "Look at this." He took the watch from Drogo and dangled it by the long gold chain in front of little Frodo. Frodo was busily persuading a carved wooden elf and a wooden dwarf to ride together on his new toy horse. In spite of the fact that the two figures were dressed for battle, three-year-old Frodo had decided they should be friends.
The shiny watch caught his eye and he pointed at it, "Mine? For Frodo?" There was no greed or covetousness in the child's question though; just an awestruck wonder at the beautiful object.
"Well, we'll see, shall we?" Bilbo squatted down in front of the child and reverently placed the precious object in the already cupped hands. Then he guided the watch up to Frodo's pointed ear.
A large smile spread across Frodo's face and his big blue eyes opened wide with delight. He listened for several moments then sang along in time, "ticky tock, ticky tock, ticky tock."
Primula's smile grew until it matched that of her precious son's, although Drogo was still frowning in doubt at the extravagant waste of such a gift.
"Now then Frodo my lad," Bilbo took the timepiece and placed it on the floor so that both of them could look at it. "Do you know what that number is?"
"One!" Frodo announced without hesitation.
"And this?"
"It twos!" Frodo's head jigged up and down in an amusingly quaint caricature of Bilbo's nodding agreement.
"And this one? It's a special number for you today." Bilbo told him with a chuckle.
"It's fwree!" Frodo proudly held up three fingers, "Like me - I'm fwree now!"
"Very good!" Bilbo clapped his hands in encouraging applause. "Now, shall we see what else the ticky-tock can do?"
Frodo watched with fascination as Bilbo closed the case on the half-hunter, pausing as the child ran a tiny finger round the outside of the glass with interest. "Now listen to this!" Bilbo announced grandly as he snapped the case open again.
A tinkling tune began to emanate from the timepiece, "Made by the dwarves, you know." Bilbo whispered in awe, "Awfully clever some of those chaps."
"I still think it's too much," Drogo complained, "what if he just leaves it somewhere and loses it?"
"Perhaps you could give it to him when he's older Bilbo dear," Primula was embarrassed at the possibility of a disagreement between her husband and his, oh so generous, cousin. "You've already been more than kind, I feel as if we've imposed upon your hospitality too long."
"Nonsense!" Bilbo would have none of this. "You know all three of you are more than welcome to stay at Bag End, as often and for as long as you like." He turned with a wink to Drogo, "and I trust I keep as good a table as Old Rory?"
"Indeed you do, cousin, indeed you do!" Drogo softened considerably at the mention of food. "Your vittles are undoubtedly the finest in all the Four Farthings!"
Primula sighed, but said nothing, bending down to pick Frodo up from the floor, still clutching his precious pocketwatch. When she had married Drogo everyone said it was an excellent match. She was the youngest of seven children and, although her father, Old Gorbadoc 'Broadbelt', was the Master of Buckland and Brandy Hall, she stood to inherit little from his estate.
But Drogo, as the eldest son of Fosco Baggins, a fine gentlehobbit, should have been able to support his wife in a comfortable manner and still have plenty to pass on to any children they might have.
The problem was that Fosco Baggins did not have much of a head for business, but truly believed he had. He speculated, many say recklessly and wildly, others said prudently but misguidedly, but whoever was right, sadly, he failed to accumulate.
At the reading of his Last Testament his entire Estate, although willed chiefly to Drogo, with bequests of generous annuities to Dora and Dudo, was mostly eaten up by creditors and demands from disgruntled, unpaid grocers, tailors and, some say, bookmakers from Bree!
But whatever the truth, the house and farm had to be sold and since then, Drogo and Primula had lived by the generosity and hospitality of various relatives, most of these hailing from Primula's Brandybuck heritage, so it was a welcome relief for Drogo to be invited to stay with the odd Baggins. And although Bilbo was certainly one of the oddest of Baggins, he indeed kept a fine table and his invitation was accepted with alacrity!
"I think perhaps you should keep the timepiece for Frodo," Primula tried again, "until he is old enough to tell the time at least."
"Well I see no reason why Drogo should not put it by for him," Bilbo insisted. "That way you can teach him the hours and minutes, under close supervision, of course. I'm sure he'll pick it up quickly enough."
"I'll do that Cousin," Drogo agreed and he gently prised the watch from Frodo's hand, offering him at the same time the wooden elf from the floor. "Here Frodo, son, give that to Daddy. I'll put it somewhere safe and you can look at it when you want to, with Daddy."
Frodo gave up the watch obediently, although his eyes followed it all the way to his father's waistcoat pocket. "Ticky tock later Daddy, when I go bedtimes?"
"Yes son," Drogo agreed. He took the watch out and glanced casually at the time. "Four of the clock already. Perhaps some afternoon tea for you my lad, so you'll be ready for supper before bedtimes. No dawdling, it's Uncle Bilbo's grown up party tonight."
Frodo knew what that meant, grown-up time meant he had to be in bed before the adults sat down for their long, and to him, boring meal and talk. "Yes Daddy, tea, sang-widges?"
"Of course," Bilbo put on a serious face, "special sang-widges and cake of course, special birthday cake for you, as you're three now!"
Frodo scrambled from Primula's arms to retrieve his toys and, seating the dwarf and elf back on the horse, galloped the three off to the kitchen, making all the appropriate clip-clopping and elf and dwarf noises.
Primula and Bilbo followed, whilst Drogo settled into Bilbo's favourite armchair by the fire and lit his pipe.
Frodo was already sitting at the table when the two adults arrived and Bell, who came in to "do" for Bilbo when he had guests, was busily setting out plates of sandwiches, bread and butter and honey and, as a special treat, a large pink blancmange.
Also seated, either side of Frodo, were Bell's two sons. Bilbo had invited six year old Hamson and two year old Halfred to tea in order to keep Frodo company on his birthday. The three were already getting on well since, during visits to Bag End, Frodo followed the older Hamson around doggedly and Halfred tagged along behind.
"You got a nice horse there for your birthday," Hamson admired the well-carved toy. Halfred was already holding the elf and the dwarf and engaging them in a battle to the death.
"And I got a ticky-tock as well!" Frodo announced proudly.
"I've kept the cake back Mr Bilbo," Bell whispered, "I've got some candles, but only one blue and the others pink."
"That's all right," Primula smiled, "I'm sure Frodo won't mind."
"Ma'am." Bell made her bob and hurried to tuck a napkin in Frodo's neck before he could spread more honey on his shirt. "Sorry, Ma'am, I should've done this a' fore the lad started." She bustled off to put the three little candles in the holders so they could be placed on the cake.
Primula and Bilbo sat down to keep the children company, listening with amusement to their banter.
"Where your ticky-tock Fro?" Halfred had finally managed to finish his battle and dwarf and elf both lay mortally wounded under the table.
"My Daddy is keeping it for me, safe!" Frodo explained, "I got to have it when I'm big and bigger!"
"You know Bilbo," Primula decided to broach the subject again, "it really was too extravagant a present for such a little one."
"Not at all!" Bilbo delighted in giving magnificent gifts, especially to his younger cousins, "Besides, since we share a birthday, it is only right I give him something extra special!"
"It's just that…" she fell silent, the thought that was bothering her so much would be very undiplomatic to voice.
"Just what?" Bilbo asked softly, taking her hand in his. "You're afraid that Drogo might send it the way of his own pocketwatch?"
Primula nodded, her eyes cast down at the table, afraid to meet Bilbo's kindly look for fear of the tears starting.
"You think I don't know that?" Bilbo clasped her hand more firmly, trying to compel Primula to look up. "Do you think I would begrudge Drogo pawning that little trinket in order to buy Frodo books or a new jacket if he should need it?" Primula, I think your husband is a fine hobbit and a proud one - he's a Baggins! It can't be easy, living with the sad legacy of his misguided father. I would not have him come cap in hand to me or anyone else, but families must stick together.
Primula finally met his gaze. "So you mean you intended… that is you suspected that he might…" she could still not say the words even though Bilbo had guessed her thoughts.
"Yes, of course," Bilbo's face grew solemn. "As I said, he is a proud hobbit, so let this be our secret. If you have need, if little Frodo ever wants for anything, I want you to promise you will come to me first. I am still a bachelor and I lead a bachelor's life and I like it that way. But I would not see another Baggins, especially little Frodo suffer any indignity. I am not as wealthy as some would have it, but I am not without excellent means. If ever you come to the point of selling that pocketwatch, you tell me first and I will buy something else from you. That pretty hair-ribbon for example." Bilbo chuckled, "that must be worth a bob or two!"
"Oh Bilbo!" Primula managed a smile at last. "It's a trifle and you know it."
"Not at all!" Bilbo touched the ribbon and frowned, "why it must be worth a hundred shillings, if it's a farthing!"
"You've already been too generous to us, letting us stay here when you know we can't even reciprocate."
"No more generous than your Brandybuck cousins!" Bilbo pointed out. "And anything a Brandybuck can do a Baggins can manage."
"I know and you are too kind." Primula looked indulgently at her small son, prattling happily with the Gamgee children, honey smeared from ear to ear. "I love staying with you, but at Brandy Hall Frodo will get good schooling and have many cousins of his own age to play with."
"Indeed," Bilbo agreed, "and at the moment, I think it the best place for the lad. But there may come a time when Frodo needs something of his own. It's true, I may yet marry, although I'm not sure which self-respecting lass would have me now, not with my reputation and eventually I may even need an heir myself. Should that day come, Frodo will be my first thought!"
"Bilbo!" Primula had never entertained thoughts of Frodo inheriting from this distant relative. "You have no idea how much that soothes my worries for his future. Even if you should marry and have children of your own, it is a kind thought - one of the kindest I ever heard."
"Even if I do have heirs of my own," Bilbo added, "which I think is highly unlikely, I have already remembered little Frodo in my Will and that is not going to change, I promise you."
Primula was silent for a moment, her hand still clasped in Bilbo's. Finally she found her voice again, "I had thought you had given him the most wonderful present possible - I mean that beautiful pocketwatch. But your promise is the greatest gift imaginable - not just for the future it offers Frodo, but for the love and kindest that comes with it - thank you, from the depths of my heart, thank you."
"Aha!" Bilbo dropped Primula's hand and stood up to applaud. "Cake! Happy birthday Frodo! Are you going to blow your candles - come on now my big, big lad! One! Two!"
"Fwree!" Frodo blew with all his might and the candles were extinguished.
"Oh yes," Bilbo lifted Frodo up, "This lad will go far, trust me!"
********************
Bilbo's Gifts - Pippin
by Marigold
beta Llinos
13th November 1393
“How is the poor lad?” Bilbo asked anxiously. The concerned little group of close family waiting in the corridor pressed forward, as eager as Bilbo for some good news. But they did not get it.
Mistress Clover, the head healer at the Great Smials, closed the door to Pippin’s room carefully before she spoke, not wanting to disturb the occupants. “He is no better I am afraid. He still sleeps and nothing anyone can do will wake him. Not even a pinprick. And his fever is worse and his heart is slowing. He is slipping away from us, and upon my own life, I do not know why.”
When Bilbo and Frodo had arrived that morning Pippin had been fine. He had been very pleased to see them and full of excitement over his upcoming third birthday, in two days time. He had been slightly displeased that Merry and his family had not arrived with his Baggins' cousins as expected, but their plans had changed due to some unforeseen business and the Brandybucks would now be arriving direct from Buckland. Pippin had not been happy but he had not been overly concerned either.
“Merwy won’t miss my birfday,” he had declared confidently, even at not quite three years old, serenely certain of Merry’s complete devotion. Merry would be there if he had to sprout wings and fly. And then Pippin had spent the rest of the day wheedling stories and jelly-babies from Bilbo and showing Frodo around the grounds of the Smials as though his older cousin had never been there before.
But at teatime, after a visit to the greenhouse to show Frodo the flowers he would be presenting to his parents on the big day, Pippin had complained quietly of feeling tired and hot, and before Eglantine could so much as check his temperature he had fallen into a doze at the table. He had been put to bed and Mistress Clover sent for and things had just gone from bad to worse.
As Clover bustled away down the hall calling for her apprentice, Bilbo drew Frodo aside. The tweenager’s face was as white and drawn as Bilbo knew his own must be.
“I don’t like this my lad, I have never heard of such an illness as this.” He put a steadying arm around his ward.
Frodo leaned into the comforting embrace. “It seems most unnatural Bilbo. I wish that there were something that we could do to help. Anything at all! He's so little.”
Bilbo patted Frodo’s back distractedly. Something the lad had said had given him the beginnings of an idea. It was a desperate one to be sure, but Pippin’s sleep was unnatural, and reminded the old hobbit of the one time that he had seen something even remotely similar. He made an abrupt decision.
“Frodo, I cannot just wait here while the lad continues to worsen. There is something that I must try, though it is doubtful to come of anything.” Mindful of the gathered Tooks, Bilbo drew Frodo slightly apart and began to whisper his plans.
*****
Bilbo pulled up his pony and listened carefully. He had ridden off in haste along the road towards Stock for several miles before leaving the road and venturing in amongst the woodlands. That had been several hours since and Bilbo had almost despaired of finding what he sought, or at least of finding it in time. But there was the sound again, coming closer! The luck of the Baggins was with him this night! Bilbo led his pony through the trees towards the faint sounds of singing.
Before long a solitary elf stepped from concealment. “Hail Bilbo Baggins!” The elf’s kindred appeared as if from nowhere and gathered around Bilbo in delight.
“Gildor!” Bilbo cried in relief. “This is good fortune indeed. I thought that I would have to search every foot of the Shire from here to the Woody End!”
“You have not been seeking us for pleasure I fear, my friend. Tell us your trouble and how we may be of aid.”
Breathlessly, Bilbo told the elves of Pippin’s mysterious ailment, and that the healers were at a loss of what to do. They listened gravely and attentively, until Bilbo finished his tale. “And so when my Frodo said that Pippin’s sleep was unnatural, I thought of old Bombur falling asleep in Mirkwood. Nothing that we could do would wake him either. And that made me think of elves and I came to seek you, hoping against hope that some of you would be near enough and could advise me of what might ail the poor little fellow. The elves have age upon age of healing knowledge. Certainly one of you might have heard of such an illness before, and could give me some remedy?"
The elves spoke softly among themselves for several moments before Gildor turned back to Bilbo. “We are not sure. There are many ailments in the world and we could not risk giving you a tonic that might do more harm than ill.”
Bilbo’s face fell; he had failed Pippin after all. But Gildor was not finished.
“And so Iachawyr and Meddygon will return with you. They among us have the most skill of the healing arts.” Already the two elves in question were gathering up supplies. Bilbo gasped a flabbergasted thanks; he had not even considered this possibility.
*****
Bilbo and the two elves arrived at the Great Smials just a few hours before dawn. Eglantine and Paladin were unnerved at their unexpected visitors, but their beloved Pippin was slipping away from them and they were eager to grasp at any chance that might save him. Mistress Clover was shocked and suspicious at this turn of events. She was more than a little indignant that these foreign elves were to interfere with her small patient's treatment. But, on the other hand, nothing she had done so far had produced results and perhaps she could learn something.
Meddygon looked gravely upon the ill child. He was so very small! His sharp little face was flushed and the length of time between each breath and beat of his heart was disturbing. He and Iachawyr examined the little one, speaking to each other softly in Elvish while Bilbo and his kin waited anxiously. Finally Meddygon turned to the hobbits.
“This is a strange malady indeed. It calls to our minds an illness from the Far South, but we do not see how your young one could have been exposed to it.”
“It is important that we know his activities of yesterday,” Iachawyr said. “Knowing his movements may help us to understand if he suffers from the illness we suspect or perhaps tell us what else it might be. Time is of the essence; the child will not see the dawn if we cannot treat him and we dare not do so without being sure. The cure can be dangerous if administered inappropriately.”
“I can help with that.” Frodo said shyly, stepping away from the corner where he had been waiting quietly. “I was with Pippin most of yesterday.”
“That is well. Come, we must not waste a moment.”
*****
Frodo escorted Iachawyr about the smial and grounds while Meddygon stayed to do what he could for Pippin. They found nothing of interest until they reached the greenhouse. Suddenly Iachawyr cried out. “There! That plant, did your young cousin go near it?”
Frodo looked at the plant in question, an oddly beautiful orchid of a type that he had never seen before yesterday. “Yes, he did. We both looked at it. The gardener said that it had bloomed for the first time yesterday. Uncle Paladin bought it from some dwarves that were travelling back to the Blue Mountains from the South.” Frodo frowned at a sudden memory. “Pippin touched it I remember, just before we went into the smial for tea. He stroked one of the petals and said how soft it was.”
Iachawyr groaned in dismay. "And did he after that put his fingers in his mouth?"
Frodo shook his head. "I can't say. But Pippin does still suck his thumb, he's still a baby really, but..."
“Aiee! I only hope that we are in time!”
Frodo could hardly keep up with the elf as he raced back to Pippin’s room.
*****
Dawn had come but, instead of Pippin leaving with the night, the Sun had brought him back to those that loved him. The cure administered by the elven healers had worked. He was amazed when he suddenly woke to find two astonishing folk out of tales smiling down upon him and his family at his bedside. He turned to Bilbo, overjoyed. “Cousin Bilbo! You brung me elfs for my birfday! Did you get them from my book? Is it magnick?”
Bilbo laughed through his tears. “Not exactly my lad, though I did bring you something nice. All the way from Dale, from the dwarves of the lonely Mountain and very magickal indeed.”
“Oh!” Pippin smiled in anticipation. “Can I have it now?”
*****
The Brandybucks finally arrived just before luncheon and almost before the coach came to a complete stop Merry was off and running to find Pippin. As he had expected, his baby cousin was in the day nursery and to his delight Frodo was there too.
"Pippin! Frodo! We got here at last!" Merry ran to Frodo and punched him affectionately on the shoulder then knelt on the rug next to Pippin, gathering the little one into his lap.
"Hullo Merwy!" Pippin crowed. "See what Cousin Bilbo gaved me for my birfday!"
Merry took the finely crafted toy in awe. It was a mechanical dragon, magnificently detailed down to the jewels encrusted on its breast. Giggling, Pippin pressed a certain spot and a scarlet and orange ribbon meant to represent a jet of flame spurted in and out of the creature's open mouth.
Merry gasped in appreciation. "That's wonderful Pippin!" The toy was so realistic that it looked as if it might fly away.
"It be Smaug!" Pippin bounced in excitement. "Frodo sayed!"
Frodo nodded. "It is an exact model of Bilbo's dragon by all accounts."
Merry whistled. "It's splendid!"
"You can play with Smaug too Merwy," Pippin declared. "But you can't see my elfs. They goned away."
"Your elfs?" Merry asked, confused.
Pippin nodded sadly. "Cousin Bilbo gaved me magnick elfs from my storybook but they went home so you can't see them."
"I don't understand you Pippin." Merry looked from Pippin to Frodo in confusion but before Frodo could explain Pippin answered eagerly.
"I was sleeping and sleeping and sleeping like Cousin Bilbo's big dwarf and it was a..a..'chant-a-ment!"
"Enchantment," Frodo corrected gently. They had decided it would be better not to tell Pippin exactly how ill he had been and from the little the child did know he had constructed his own version of events.
"What I sayed! 'chant-a-ment!" He helped Smaug to fly through the air with a fierce "Grrrrrr!" before continuing his tale. "And then Cousin Bilbo made my elfs come to wake me up. And I did and we had first breakfasts and sunged songs and then they went home in the book." Smaug landed and Pippin walked him across the rug with great concentration.
Thinking he understood Merry smiled encouragingly. "That's a good story Pippin. Someday you'll be as good a storyteller as Cousin Bilbo.
"Yes," declared Pippin matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow when I'm thwee!"
TBC on Monday!
But some of Bilbo's gifts were even more generous and long-lasting than the recipients could have guessed...
Bilbo's Gifts - Frodo
by Llinos
beta Marigold
22nd September 1371
"Bilbo Baggins - that is far too great a gift for a three year old!" Drogo Baggins frowned at the magnificent gold pocket watch as he turned it over in his hand "Why he'll break it in a moment."
"Nonsense!" Bilbo snorted, "Look at this." He took the watch from Drogo and dangled it by the long gold chain in front of little Frodo. Frodo was busily persuading a carved wooden elf and a wooden dwarf to ride together on his new toy horse. In spite of the fact that the two figures were dressed for battle, three-year-old Frodo had decided they should be friends.
The shiny watch caught his eye and he pointed at it, "Mine? For Frodo?" There was no greed or covetousness in the child's question though; just an awestruck wonder at the beautiful object.
"Well, we'll see, shall we?" Bilbo squatted down in front of the child and reverently placed the precious object in the already cupped hands. Then he guided the watch up to Frodo's pointed ear.
A large smile spread across Frodo's face and his big blue eyes opened wide with delight. He listened for several moments then sang along in time, "ticky tock, ticky tock, ticky tock."
Primula's smile grew until it matched that of her precious son's, although Drogo was still frowning in doubt at the extravagant waste of such a gift.
"Now then Frodo my lad," Bilbo took the timepiece and placed it on the floor so that both of them could look at it. "Do you know what that number is?"
"One!" Frodo announced without hesitation.
"And this?"
"It twos!" Frodo's head jigged up and down in an amusingly quaint caricature of Bilbo's nodding agreement.
"And this one? It's a special number for you today." Bilbo told him with a chuckle.
"It's fwree!" Frodo proudly held up three fingers, "Like me - I'm fwree now!"
"Very good!" Bilbo clapped his hands in encouraging applause. "Now, shall we see what else the ticky-tock can do?"
Frodo watched with fascination as Bilbo closed the case on the half-hunter, pausing as the child ran a tiny finger round the outside of the glass with interest. "Now listen to this!" Bilbo announced grandly as he snapped the case open again.
A tinkling tune began to emanate from the timepiece, "Made by the dwarves, you know." Bilbo whispered in awe, "Awfully clever some of those chaps."
"I still think it's too much," Drogo complained, "what if he just leaves it somewhere and loses it?"
"Perhaps you could give it to him when he's older Bilbo dear," Primula was embarrassed at the possibility of a disagreement between her husband and his, oh so generous, cousin. "You've already been more than kind, I feel as if we've imposed upon your hospitality too long."
"Nonsense!" Bilbo would have none of this. "You know all three of you are more than welcome to stay at Bag End, as often and for as long as you like." He turned with a wink to Drogo, "and I trust I keep as good a table as Old Rory?"
"Indeed you do, cousin, indeed you do!" Drogo softened considerably at the mention of food. "Your vittles are undoubtedly the finest in all the Four Farthings!"
Primula sighed, but said nothing, bending down to pick Frodo up from the floor, still clutching his precious pocketwatch. When she had married Drogo everyone said it was an excellent match. She was the youngest of seven children and, although her father, Old Gorbadoc 'Broadbelt', was the Master of Buckland and Brandy Hall, she stood to inherit little from his estate.
But Drogo, as the eldest son of Fosco Baggins, a fine gentlehobbit, should have been able to support his wife in a comfortable manner and still have plenty to pass on to any children they might have.
The problem was that Fosco Baggins did not have much of a head for business, but truly believed he had. He speculated, many say recklessly and wildly, others said prudently but misguidedly, but whoever was right, sadly, he failed to accumulate.
At the reading of his Last Testament his entire Estate, although willed chiefly to Drogo, with bequests of generous annuities to Dora and Dudo, was mostly eaten up by creditors and demands from disgruntled, unpaid grocers, tailors and, some say, bookmakers from Bree!
But whatever the truth, the house and farm had to be sold and since then, Drogo and Primula had lived by the generosity and hospitality of various relatives, most of these hailing from Primula's Brandybuck heritage, so it was a welcome relief for Drogo to be invited to stay with the odd Baggins. And although Bilbo was certainly one of the oddest of Baggins, he indeed kept a fine table and his invitation was accepted with alacrity!
"I think perhaps you should keep the timepiece for Frodo," Primula tried again, "until he is old enough to tell the time at least."
"Well I see no reason why Drogo should not put it by for him," Bilbo insisted. "That way you can teach him the hours and minutes, under close supervision, of course. I'm sure he'll pick it up quickly enough."
"I'll do that Cousin," Drogo agreed and he gently prised the watch from Frodo's hand, offering him at the same time the wooden elf from the floor. "Here Frodo, son, give that to Daddy. I'll put it somewhere safe and you can look at it when you want to, with Daddy."
Frodo gave up the watch obediently, although his eyes followed it all the way to his father's waistcoat pocket. "Ticky tock later Daddy, when I go bedtimes?"
"Yes son," Drogo agreed. He took the watch out and glanced casually at the time. "Four of the clock already. Perhaps some afternoon tea for you my lad, so you'll be ready for supper before bedtimes. No dawdling, it's Uncle Bilbo's grown up party tonight."
Frodo knew what that meant, grown-up time meant he had to be in bed before the adults sat down for their long, and to him, boring meal and talk. "Yes Daddy, tea, sang-widges?"
"Of course," Bilbo put on a serious face, "special sang-widges and cake of course, special birthday cake for you, as you're three now!"
Frodo scrambled from Primula's arms to retrieve his toys and, seating the dwarf and elf back on the horse, galloped the three off to the kitchen, making all the appropriate clip-clopping and elf and dwarf noises.
Primula and Bilbo followed, whilst Drogo settled into Bilbo's favourite armchair by the fire and lit his pipe.
Frodo was already sitting at the table when the two adults arrived and Bell, who came in to "do" for Bilbo when he had guests, was busily setting out plates of sandwiches, bread and butter and honey and, as a special treat, a large pink blancmange.
Also seated, either side of Frodo, were Bell's two sons. Bilbo had invited six year old Hamson and two year old Halfred to tea in order to keep Frodo company on his birthday. The three were already getting on well since, during visits to Bag End, Frodo followed the older Hamson around doggedly and Halfred tagged along behind.
"You got a nice horse there for your birthday," Hamson admired the well-carved toy. Halfred was already holding the elf and the dwarf and engaging them in a battle to the death.
"And I got a ticky-tock as well!" Frodo announced proudly.
"I've kept the cake back Mr Bilbo," Bell whispered, "I've got some candles, but only one blue and the others pink."
"That's all right," Primula smiled, "I'm sure Frodo won't mind."
"Ma'am." Bell made her bob and hurried to tuck a napkin in Frodo's neck before he could spread more honey on his shirt. "Sorry, Ma'am, I should've done this a' fore the lad started." She bustled off to put the three little candles in the holders so they could be placed on the cake.
Primula and Bilbo sat down to keep the children company, listening with amusement to their banter.
"Where your ticky-tock Fro?" Halfred had finally managed to finish his battle and dwarf and elf both lay mortally wounded under the table.
"My Daddy is keeping it for me, safe!" Frodo explained, "I got to have it when I'm big and bigger!"
"You know Bilbo," Primula decided to broach the subject again, "it really was too extravagant a present for such a little one."
"Not at all!" Bilbo delighted in giving magnificent gifts, especially to his younger cousins, "Besides, since we share a birthday, it is only right I give him something extra special!"
"It's just that…" she fell silent, the thought that was bothering her so much would be very undiplomatic to voice.
"Just what?" Bilbo asked softly, taking her hand in his. "You're afraid that Drogo might send it the way of his own pocketwatch?"
Primula nodded, her eyes cast down at the table, afraid to meet Bilbo's kindly look for fear of the tears starting.
"You think I don't know that?" Bilbo clasped her hand more firmly, trying to compel Primula to look up. "Do you think I would begrudge Drogo pawning that little trinket in order to buy Frodo books or a new jacket if he should need it?" Primula, I think your husband is a fine hobbit and a proud one - he's a Baggins! It can't be easy, living with the sad legacy of his misguided father. I would not have him come cap in hand to me or anyone else, but families must stick together.
Primula finally met his gaze. "So you mean you intended… that is you suspected that he might…" she could still not say the words even though Bilbo had guessed her thoughts.
"Yes, of course," Bilbo's face grew solemn. "As I said, he is a proud hobbit, so let this be our secret. If you have need, if little Frodo ever wants for anything, I want you to promise you will come to me first. I am still a bachelor and I lead a bachelor's life and I like it that way. But I would not see another Baggins, especially little Frodo suffer any indignity. I am not as wealthy as some would have it, but I am not without excellent means. If ever you come to the point of selling that pocketwatch, you tell me first and I will buy something else from you. That pretty hair-ribbon for example." Bilbo chuckled, "that must be worth a bob or two!"
"Oh Bilbo!" Primula managed a smile at last. "It's a trifle and you know it."
"Not at all!" Bilbo touched the ribbon and frowned, "why it must be worth a hundred shillings, if it's a farthing!"
"You've already been too generous to us, letting us stay here when you know we can't even reciprocate."
"No more generous than your Brandybuck cousins!" Bilbo pointed out. "And anything a Brandybuck can do a Baggins can manage."
"I know and you are too kind." Primula looked indulgently at her small son, prattling happily with the Gamgee children, honey smeared from ear to ear. "I love staying with you, but at Brandy Hall Frodo will get good schooling and have many cousins of his own age to play with."
"Indeed," Bilbo agreed, "and at the moment, I think it the best place for the lad. But there may come a time when Frodo needs something of his own. It's true, I may yet marry, although I'm not sure which self-respecting lass would have me now, not with my reputation and eventually I may even need an heir myself. Should that day come, Frodo will be my first thought!"
"Bilbo!" Primula had never entertained thoughts of Frodo inheriting from this distant relative. "You have no idea how much that soothes my worries for his future. Even if you should marry and have children of your own, it is a kind thought - one of the kindest I ever heard."
"Even if I do have heirs of my own," Bilbo added, "which I think is highly unlikely, I have already remembered little Frodo in my Will and that is not going to change, I promise you."
Primula was silent for a moment, her hand still clasped in Bilbo's. Finally she found her voice again, "I had thought you had given him the most wonderful present possible - I mean that beautiful pocketwatch. But your promise is the greatest gift imaginable - not just for the future it offers Frodo, but for the love and kindest that comes with it - thank you, from the depths of my heart, thank you."
"Aha!" Bilbo dropped Primula's hand and stood up to applaud. "Cake! Happy birthday Frodo! Are you going to blow your candles - come on now my big, big lad! One! Two!"
"Fwree!" Frodo blew with all his might and the candles were extinguished.
"Oh yes," Bilbo lifted Frodo up, "This lad will go far, trust me!"
********************
Bilbo's Gifts - Pippin
by Marigold
beta Llinos
13th November 1393
“How is the poor lad?” Bilbo asked anxiously. The concerned little group of close family waiting in the corridor pressed forward, as eager as Bilbo for some good news. But they did not get it.
Mistress Clover, the head healer at the Great Smials, closed the door to Pippin’s room carefully before she spoke, not wanting to disturb the occupants. “He is no better I am afraid. He still sleeps and nothing anyone can do will wake him. Not even a pinprick. And his fever is worse and his heart is slowing. He is slipping away from us, and upon my own life, I do not know why.”
When Bilbo and Frodo had arrived that morning Pippin had been fine. He had been very pleased to see them and full of excitement over his upcoming third birthday, in two days time. He had been slightly displeased that Merry and his family had not arrived with his Baggins' cousins as expected, but their plans had changed due to some unforeseen business and the Brandybucks would now be arriving direct from Buckland. Pippin had not been happy but he had not been overly concerned either.
“Merwy won’t miss my birfday,” he had declared confidently, even at not quite three years old, serenely certain of Merry’s complete devotion. Merry would be there if he had to sprout wings and fly. And then Pippin had spent the rest of the day wheedling stories and jelly-babies from Bilbo and showing Frodo around the grounds of the Smials as though his older cousin had never been there before.
But at teatime, after a visit to the greenhouse to show Frodo the flowers he would be presenting to his parents on the big day, Pippin had complained quietly of feeling tired and hot, and before Eglantine could so much as check his temperature he had fallen into a doze at the table. He had been put to bed and Mistress Clover sent for and things had just gone from bad to worse.
As Clover bustled away down the hall calling for her apprentice, Bilbo drew Frodo aside. The tweenager’s face was as white and drawn as Bilbo knew his own must be.
“I don’t like this my lad, I have never heard of such an illness as this.” He put a steadying arm around his ward.
Frodo leaned into the comforting embrace. “It seems most unnatural Bilbo. I wish that there were something that we could do to help. Anything at all! He's so little.”
Bilbo patted Frodo’s back distractedly. Something the lad had said had given him the beginnings of an idea. It was a desperate one to be sure, but Pippin’s sleep was unnatural, and reminded the old hobbit of the one time that he had seen something even remotely similar. He made an abrupt decision.
“Frodo, I cannot just wait here while the lad continues to worsen. There is something that I must try, though it is doubtful to come of anything.” Mindful of the gathered Tooks, Bilbo drew Frodo slightly apart and began to whisper his plans.
*****
Bilbo pulled up his pony and listened carefully. He had ridden off in haste along the road towards Stock for several miles before leaving the road and venturing in amongst the woodlands. That had been several hours since and Bilbo had almost despaired of finding what he sought, or at least of finding it in time. But there was the sound again, coming closer! The luck of the Baggins was with him this night! Bilbo led his pony through the trees towards the faint sounds of singing.
Before long a solitary elf stepped from concealment. “Hail Bilbo Baggins!” The elf’s kindred appeared as if from nowhere and gathered around Bilbo in delight.
“Gildor!” Bilbo cried in relief. “This is good fortune indeed. I thought that I would have to search every foot of the Shire from here to the Woody End!”
“You have not been seeking us for pleasure I fear, my friend. Tell us your trouble and how we may be of aid.”
Breathlessly, Bilbo told the elves of Pippin’s mysterious ailment, and that the healers were at a loss of what to do. They listened gravely and attentively, until Bilbo finished his tale. “And so when my Frodo said that Pippin’s sleep was unnatural, I thought of old Bombur falling asleep in Mirkwood. Nothing that we could do would wake him either. And that made me think of elves and I came to seek you, hoping against hope that some of you would be near enough and could advise me of what might ail the poor little fellow. The elves have age upon age of healing knowledge. Certainly one of you might have heard of such an illness before, and could give me some remedy?"
The elves spoke softly among themselves for several moments before Gildor turned back to Bilbo. “We are not sure. There are many ailments in the world and we could not risk giving you a tonic that might do more harm than ill.”
Bilbo’s face fell; he had failed Pippin after all. But Gildor was not finished.
“And so Iachawyr and Meddygon will return with you. They among us have the most skill of the healing arts.” Already the two elves in question were gathering up supplies. Bilbo gasped a flabbergasted thanks; he had not even considered this possibility.
*****
Bilbo and the two elves arrived at the Great Smials just a few hours before dawn. Eglantine and Paladin were unnerved at their unexpected visitors, but their beloved Pippin was slipping away from them and they were eager to grasp at any chance that might save him. Mistress Clover was shocked and suspicious at this turn of events. She was more than a little indignant that these foreign elves were to interfere with her small patient's treatment. But, on the other hand, nothing she had done so far had produced results and perhaps she could learn something.
Meddygon looked gravely upon the ill child. He was so very small! His sharp little face was flushed and the length of time between each breath and beat of his heart was disturbing. He and Iachawyr examined the little one, speaking to each other softly in Elvish while Bilbo and his kin waited anxiously. Finally Meddygon turned to the hobbits.
“This is a strange malady indeed. It calls to our minds an illness from the Far South, but we do not see how your young one could have been exposed to it.”
“It is important that we know his activities of yesterday,” Iachawyr said. “Knowing his movements may help us to understand if he suffers from the illness we suspect or perhaps tell us what else it might be. Time is of the essence; the child will not see the dawn if we cannot treat him and we dare not do so without being sure. The cure can be dangerous if administered inappropriately.”
“I can help with that.” Frodo said shyly, stepping away from the corner where he had been waiting quietly. “I was with Pippin most of yesterday.”
“That is well. Come, we must not waste a moment.”
*****
Frodo escorted Iachawyr about the smial and grounds while Meddygon stayed to do what he could for Pippin. They found nothing of interest until they reached the greenhouse. Suddenly Iachawyr cried out. “There! That plant, did your young cousin go near it?”
Frodo looked at the plant in question, an oddly beautiful orchid of a type that he had never seen before yesterday. “Yes, he did. We both looked at it. The gardener said that it had bloomed for the first time yesterday. Uncle Paladin bought it from some dwarves that were travelling back to the Blue Mountains from the South.” Frodo frowned at a sudden memory. “Pippin touched it I remember, just before we went into the smial for tea. He stroked one of the petals and said how soft it was.”
Iachawyr groaned in dismay. "And did he after that put his fingers in his mouth?"
Frodo shook his head. "I can't say. But Pippin does still suck his thumb, he's still a baby really, but..."
“Aiee! I only hope that we are in time!”
Frodo could hardly keep up with the elf as he raced back to Pippin’s room.
*****
Dawn had come but, instead of Pippin leaving with the night, the Sun had brought him back to those that loved him. The cure administered by the elven healers had worked. He was amazed when he suddenly woke to find two astonishing folk out of tales smiling down upon him and his family at his bedside. He turned to Bilbo, overjoyed. “Cousin Bilbo! You brung me elfs for my birfday! Did you get them from my book? Is it magnick?”
Bilbo laughed through his tears. “Not exactly my lad, though I did bring you something nice. All the way from Dale, from the dwarves of the lonely Mountain and very magickal indeed.”
“Oh!” Pippin smiled in anticipation. “Can I have it now?”
*****
The Brandybucks finally arrived just before luncheon and almost before the coach came to a complete stop Merry was off and running to find Pippin. As he had expected, his baby cousin was in the day nursery and to his delight Frodo was there too.
"Pippin! Frodo! We got here at last!" Merry ran to Frodo and punched him affectionately on the shoulder then knelt on the rug next to Pippin, gathering the little one into his lap.
"Hullo Merwy!" Pippin crowed. "See what Cousin Bilbo gaved me for my birfday!"
Merry took the finely crafted toy in awe. It was a mechanical dragon, magnificently detailed down to the jewels encrusted on its breast. Giggling, Pippin pressed a certain spot and a scarlet and orange ribbon meant to represent a jet of flame spurted in and out of the creature's open mouth.
Merry gasped in appreciation. "That's wonderful Pippin!" The toy was so realistic that it looked as if it might fly away.
"It be Smaug!" Pippin bounced in excitement. "Frodo sayed!"
Frodo nodded. "It is an exact model of Bilbo's dragon by all accounts."
Merry whistled. "It's splendid!"
"You can play with Smaug too Merwy," Pippin declared. "But you can't see my elfs. They goned away."
"Your elfs?" Merry asked, confused.
Pippin nodded sadly. "Cousin Bilbo gaved me magnick elfs from my storybook but they went home so you can't see them."
"I don't understand you Pippin." Merry looked from Pippin to Frodo in confusion but before Frodo could explain Pippin answered eagerly.
"I was sleeping and sleeping and sleeping like Cousin Bilbo's big dwarf and it was a..a..'chant-a-ment!"
"Enchantment," Frodo corrected gently. They had decided it would be better not to tell Pippin exactly how ill he had been and from the little the child did know he had constructed his own version of events.
"What I sayed! 'chant-a-ment!" He helped Smaug to fly through the air with a fierce "Grrrrrr!" before continuing his tale. "And then Cousin Bilbo made my elfs come to wake me up. And I did and we had first breakfasts and sunged songs and then they went home in the book." Smaug landed and Pippin walked him across the rug with great concentration.
Thinking he understood Merry smiled encouragingly. "That's a good story Pippin. Someday you'll be as good a storyteller as Cousin Bilbo.
"Yes," declared Pippin matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow when I'm thwee!"
TBC on Monday!