lj-cut text"A Birthday Surprise – for Marigold"

A birthday surprise.

By AngieT

For Marigold – on the occasion of her birthday.

Unedited.

In which Bilbo and Frodo formally meet for the first time.

You would have thought the Shire under attack by fire breathing dragons from the amount of noise coming from the picnic dell by the banks of the Brandywine. Even more amazing was the fact that the noise was coming from one very small hobbit lad who looked like he could not have lungs big enough to cause the awful yelling.

Other mothers were giving horrified looks as Primula Baggins tried very hard to get her bundle of joy to shut up.

"Frodo, darling, poppet," she pleaded. "What can Ma'ma do? Would you like some shortbread? Or a strawberry scone – look – it has real strawberries."

Frodo screamed on.

No one was even quite sure what had started the problem but three year old Frodo, scarlet in the face, little body in a rictus of displeasure, feet and fists drumming into the ground was making his displeasure felt. Primula was beside herself and not far off from tears herself.

The men folk would be returning soon from their after picnic pipes and she did not want to be seen like this. She was already getting disapproving looks from the matrons.

She changed tack. "Now Frodo Baggins, if you don't stop this dreadful noise at once. At once I say! I shall be very cross!" They both knew this was an idle threat.

What made this all worse was that Frodo was one of the guests of honour. It was his birthday. Bilbo had come to visit and share the event and they had taken advantage of the lovely late summer weather and come out for a picnic en mass.

"Come now poppet, can it be as bad as all that?"

"Now now, what seems to be the matter my dear," it was Bilbo, forced to raise his voice to be heard over Frodo's yells.

"I think he is tired, or bored," Primula explained. "He always gets cranky when he's tired."

"I tell you what," said Bilbo. "You go and get yourself a drink and sit down and I will see what I can do."

Primula looked doubtful, but she was near the end of her tether. "Thank you," she said. "I'll just be a moment. I'll get him some juice."

Once Primula had moved away Bilbo looked down at the squalling bundle of hobbithood that was his Cousin Frodo. Bilbo would freely admit that he had no experience what so ever with children and this noise was shredding his nerves but he was sure there must be something which could be done.

Bilbo sat on the grass next to Frodo and reached into his pocket for his pipe which he carefully filled and lit as he gazed out across the twinkling expanse of the Brandywine River.

Meanwhile Frodo found, in the pauses to take breath, there was no steady flow of entreatments for silence from his mother. He opened his eyes and looked around. She was not there. Frodo filled his lungs and wailed again. Where was she?

Frodo looked over to one side. An elderly hobbit smoking a pipe was sitting quite calmly by and .. ignoring him…! This was such an unheard of turn of events that Frodo paused for a moment between wails.

Out of the corner of his eye Bilbo saw Frodo open on eye and peer at him. The older hobbit ignored him and continued to sit contentedly and watch the river go by.

Frodo took a breath to yell again but found he could not. The wind had rather been taken out of his tantrum by being ignored. Who was this hobbit anyway?

Frodo sat up facing Bilbo and stared. After a while Bilbo set his pipe aside and looked around as though noticing the young hobbit for the first time. "Why, hello Frodo," he said. "I didn't see you there."

Frodo frowned. "Who you?"

"I am your Cousin Bilbo," said Bilbo.

"Not!" Frodo was not prepared to be agreeable yet. "Too old."

"Who am I then?"

Frodo thought for a little. "Uncles are old."

"Then I will be your Uncle Bilbo," said Bilbo, prepared to be pleasant.

Frodo pondered this and seemed prepared to accept it and to stop frowning.

"It's my birthday," he said importantly.

"Well," said Bilbo beaming. "It's mine too."

"No it's not," Frodo was affronted. "It's mine."

"Tell you what," said Bilbo. "Let's not argue about it. We can share it."

"No," said Frodo and folded his little arms across his chest.

"But, don't you know," said Bilbo leaning over to whisper conspiratorially, "If it is my birthday then you can get a present from me."

Frodo's eyes opened widely, "Do I?" He clapped his hands and was all smiles. "Where is it?"

Bilbo laughed. "I seem to have mislaid it," he teased. "I think it's in one of my pockets."

Frodo crawled over the grass and sat himself on Bilbo's knee. "Help you look."

Together the two hobbits made a thorough search of Bilbo's pockets and in the very last inside pocket they managed to find a whole bag of marbles in every sort of colour you had ever seen or could ever imagine. Frodo was delighted. "You're my very favouritest Uncle," he pronounced.

Smiling Bilbo kissed the top of the curly head. "And you are going to be my very favouritest nephew," he promised.

The end

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