Too Long to Wait: Crawling
Ellohir scampered across the floor on all fours with shocking speed. He giggled, looking behind his shoulder at Frodo, his blue eyes bright and curious.
“No, no,” Frodo said, sighing, as he chased after the baby for what had to be the hundredth time that day. He captured the baby and collapsed into the armchair by the window, propping Ellohir in his lap. The baby squirmed in Frodo’s arms, gazing up at him in annoyance, his little mouth pursed. It would only be a matter of time before real words came out of those lips!
For now he babbled in discontent, ending with a piteous “Gaaaa!” He whimpered, stretching tiny fingers toward the floor.
“I cannot chase you every second,” Frodo said. He carried Ellohir to his and Aragorn’s bed and plopped him in the middle. “Now you must stay still. Aragorn will be back soon and he can watch you crawl for a time.”
Ellohir’s chin trembled and he stretched his arms toward Frodo, wailing.
“Come, darling,” Frodo said, his heart too easily melted. He climbed onto the bed and crawled over the satin coverlet to Ellohir. He gathered the wriggling baby in his arms and kissed his curls. “You’ll get your turn. Frodo’s very weary now. Let us take a rest!”
Aragorn stepped through the door, and Frodo sighed in relief. He climbed off the bed and handed him a squirming Ellohir. “Can you hazard a guess as to who just learned to crawl?”
Aragorn cradled Ellohir, kissing his head. “Did you learn to crawl, darling? What a big, smart boy!” Ellohir reached for the floor with his tiny hands. Goodness, he had not napped all day and he was still going strong! As soon as Aragorn set him down, he gleefully scurried on hands and knees across the room.
“Look at his arms!” Aragorn said proudly. “Such sturdy strength! Picture him the Captain of Gondor in a few short years.”
“Hush!” Frodo said. He abhorred it when Aragorn brought up the topic of raising Ellohir to fight in battles. “And I should see to your books if I were you!”
Ellohir was pulling at the delicately bound Elvish books at the bottom of the shelf, scattering them every which direction, babbling in quiet contentment.
“Oh, no!” Aragorn said, his smile fading. He ran to the bookshelf and scooped Ellohir from the floor. Frodo sank into his armchair again, closing his eyes as Ellohir squirmed and whimpered in Aragorn’s arms.
“I shall let you handle it for now,” Frodo said with a slight smile.
Aragorn’s voice dropped. “I had thought I might take a short rest, Frodo. Could you not watch him another hour or so?”
Ellohir was crying now, and Aragorn set him down with a sigh of exasperation. Again, Ellohir streaked across the floor. He reached for the silk cloth that covered the bedside table. The vase on the table wobbled dangerously right above Ellohir’s head.
“Aragorn!” Frodo shouted, his heart cold as he jumped to his feet. With shocking reflex, Aragorn grabbed the vase before it fell.
“Ellohir, no!” He said sternly, turning the sturdy little body around, directing him away from the table. Ellohir smiled and babbled as he crawled across the room, the bedside table forgotten.
“Frodo... Will he not fall asleep if you hold him?”
Frodo laughed in weary scorn. “Do you not think I have tried that all day? Thank goodness he is half hobbit, as at least he does very much enjoy his meals. They have been my only break today.”
“Then let us give him an early supper,” Aragorn sighed.
***
An hour later, Ellohir was in his high chair, his face smeared with mashed apple. He kicked his legs, stretching his tiny fingers toward the spoon that Frodo held.
“More?” Frodo slipped the spoon between Ellohir’s tiny pink lips. The baby smiled, gurgling joyfully.
“He is getting chubby,” Aragorn said, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, hush,” Frodo said, laughing, spooning more apple into Ellohir’s mouth. “This is a very modest meal for a hobbit babe, I will have you know!”
“But yet there is hope for him,” Aragorn said with a teasing smile. “He crawled right for the Elvish books.”
Frodo laughed and shoved the next spoonful of apples into the king’s mouth. Aragorn laughed, licking his lips. He took the spoon from Frodo and filled with more apples. “Not too bad a flavor,” he said. “Ellohir, my son, you are very lucky.”
Ellohir’s only answer was a gurgle as he reached for the spoon.
Go on to next part