Title: An Unexpected Party
Post-Quest
Rating: G
Written: April 14, 2004
A/N: When I started writing the story, I wanted it to have a happy, careless ending. But then another Plot Bunny hopped into it, and I changed the ending, linking the Nine Fingers, the ending of Frodo's tale, his decision to go into the West. As a gap-filler for the Book.
I immensely enjoyed writing this surprise birthday fic for Nivina. And I hope you like it dear! :hug:
This is my first fanfic, and it was great to have a taste of the process of writing fanfic. I'm sure I've made mistakes all over the place, since English isn't my first language and Hobbit's aren't my first LOTR love. :)
Many thanks to the Hobbit Name Generator and Nivina herself for correcting me :)
Standard disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's universe. I'm merely using it for my own (and hopefully your) amusement.
Summary: Frodo is not in a festive mood, but he does visit a birthday party.

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An Unexpected Party

"Astron 7, S.R. 1420
Today's weather: nice and sunny"

Frodo smiled. For a second he tore his eyes away from the parchment to take a look out of his window.

Hobbiton looked particularly good this spring. Sam's own garden looked very promising, and he also had done a wonderful job with Frodo's. The gardens had been left unattended when they were on their Quest and it almost seemed almost hopeless when they returned. However, Sam had started to work as soon as he had unpacked and proposed to Rosie, and had made good use of Galadriel's gift. The little seeds had grown fast into beautiful plants. Especially the little mallorn tree was thriving. Soon it would be as big as Bilbo's Party Tree.

Alas, Frodo had no time for admiring the gardens. He was busy. When he returned home in Bag End he had felt outlandish, though Bag End was his home. To busy himself, he had started writing in the Red Book only a few days after their return. He had promised Bilbo to write 'everything' down, and that was what he was doing.
Notes were everywhere. Large maps were on the table, being held in place by mugs of tea, saucers with goodies from Rosie and flasks of spare ink. Once Frodo had put his mind in writing, he couldn't stop.

Until there was a knock on the door. Frodo finished his sentence, concentrating on the words while the knocking continued. He sighed and dragged himself away from the desk to open the front door.
Pippin and Merry were waiting impatiently on the door step, looking eagerly. They rushed in when Frodo had opened the door. "Hullo Frodo!" and they were off to his kitchen.

Frodo sighed again and followed them. "Tea? Or perhaps something stronger?" he inquired, as Bilbo used to ask his visitors.

"Tea!" the hobbits declared. "Lavender tea preferably. And some apple tart if Sam didn't finish that yesterday".

While Merry filled the kettle and poked up the fire, Frodo went looking for what was left in his store room. He didn't have much time for looking after that, but Sam and Rosie were looking after his so wouldn't starve to death while writing.

When he returned to the kitchen with the desired apple tart (Sam indeed had left some pieces for them), Pippin assisted Merry with the tea and the three hobbits sat down to chat. Frodo, a bit absent minded because his head was still concerned with the Red Book, didn't really pay attention. He did pick up something Merry and Pippin were excited about, a birthday party. He didn't really understand whose, but it must be one of Pippin's far related cousins or something.

Absent minded he stirred his tea again, listening to Merry and Pippin talking excitingly about the upcoming party.

"Oh well", he sighed and said to himself. "As long as I don't have to go." His mind was set upon the task of writing, to finish his tale.

"Frodo? At what time shall we pick you up?" asked a voice. Pippin nudged his cousin softly.

Frodo sat up straight immediately. Had he said he would come too? Oh no! No time for parties! He glanced to the two grinning hobbits. "Did I say I would come with you?" He frowned.

"Erm, not with so many words," Merry said happily. "But we figured you should get out of the house. You have been burying yourself in your books!"
Frodo sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No excuses Frodo my lad! We'll be here to pick you up at 10 next Thursday. That's the 15th! We promised to help a bit, preparing the party, you know. And you'd better be ready! OK Pip, that's that. Now off to Sam," Merry said and before Frodo realized what had happened, Merry and Pippin had left.
Frodo smiled. Those crazy cousins of him! He shrugged and went back to work. Thursday was far away...

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Frodo might have been forgotten all about the party, Merry and Pippin hadn't.
That Thursday another knock on the door was heard. And some shouts from outdoors. "Frodo! We have to go!"

Reluctly Frodo dragged himself away from his desk to open the door. Two grinning cousins of him, dressed in their best clothes, looked at him.

"Merry, what's going on? What are those ponies doing there?" he asked.

"Frodo, my dear Frodo! Please tell me you haven't forgotten where we're going today!" Merry said happily. "The party! She's going to be 30 years old today!"
Frodo frowned and sighed. Who was going to be 30? Pippin nudged him back indoors, to change.

Ten minutes later the three of them left. Pippin had lent ponies from Rosie's father. One of them was good old Bill, who had been given to Sam. Bill's new 'job' was carrying Rosie's little brothers and sisters around and accepting their apples gracefully. Now Frodo climbed into Bill's saddle, while Merry and Pippin waited impatiently.

It was a nice ride through the fields around Hobbiton. Lots of hobbits were busy tending the fields, preparing the soils and sowing. Frodo was enjoying the ride. He sat and watched around him. All those days he had been locking himself at Bag End, forgetting what was so special about The Shire. Now he felt sorry he didn't realize that sooner. He sniffed the fresh air. He smelled the scent of spring flowers.
Bill pulled at the reins. Frodo might not have paid attention, but Bill had noticed Merry and Pippin's ponies were already trotting towards the crossing.

Not long after the crossing Merry and Pippin headed towards the Chubb residence. They unsaddled the ponies and let them loose in a field nearby while looking at the party preparations. A stout hobbit woman commandeered where to put the cakes, the ale and everything else. Behind her, plucking at her apron and looking a bit nervous, was a young maiden.

"Now dear, you go into the house and make yourself presentable," the woman said to her. The maiden quickly vanished into the house, relieved that she could escape so it seemed. The hobbit woman turned her attention towards the newcomers.

"Oh, there you are!" she said and walked towards them. Merry immediately walked to her, followed by Pippin and Frodo. Mrs. Chubb welcomed Merry and Pippin, shaked their hands and managed to put the two to work immediately. Something that was a rare gift since Merry and Pippin were notorious for their escapism for work.
Frodo also didn't escape Mrs. Chubb's attention.

"Oh, how nice that you also have come Frodo," she said, shaking his hand. Then she let loose like she had burned it.

"I'm sorry dear, I should have remembered about your accident," she said, referring to the missing finger of Frodo's hand.

"Oh, it's OK," Frodo muttered. "No need to feel sorry."

"Well, I'm happy you have come. Have you met my daughter? She has heard so much of your adventures and was quite keen of you coming." Mrs. Chubb pushed her daughter, who had returned of the house in the meantime, towards him.

"Don't be shy dear! It's Frodo, you know!" and she walked towards another newly arrived party.

Frodo looked at her, and found himself gazing into the eyes of the lovely hobbit maiden. Her eyes were green with a shade of blue. It reminded him of the sea, though he never had set his eyes on it. Her eyes were the color of the sea, as he expected it.
The maiden presented him her hand. Frodo gently took her hand in his and hesitated if he would just shake it or place a gentle kiss on it. A bit clumsily he shaked her hand. "Happy birthday" he managed to utter, lost in her sea-green eyes. "I'm sorry I forgot to bring you a gift."
The maiden looked at him. And smiled. Frodo's heart jumped up. He felt himself blushing a bit. This maiden, what was her name? Had Merry mentioned it? Oh, he probably hadn't paid attention anyway.

"Forgive me, but what is your name?" he asked shyly.

"I'm Prisca Chubb" she said, looking up to him. "And you shouldn't feel sorry for not bringing me a gift. You already have given me one".
Frodo looked up, amazed. What did she mean?

Prisca smiled softly. "I've heard so much about you and about your trip to the Dark Land. I was so worried. But I'm glad you've returned safely. That is the most precious gift I've ever received."

They were standing together, not noticing what happened around them. The sounds of busy hobbits preparing the party didn't reach Frodo's ears. He was lost gazing into Prisca's eyes. They seemed to encourage the thoughts he had lately.

Thoughts about his friends, picking up their lives. Sam and Rosie were betrothed, Merry and Pippin were enjoying the favors of the ladies, and all but Frodo seemed to get on with what they had left behind when going on the Quest.
And here he found himself, getting lost into the eyes of a beautiful hobbit maiden.
Was he the next one, getting settled down?

Frodo sighed. His friends might not understand why his hesitation, but he knew.

He touched Arwen's jewel, the replacement for the Ring he had been wearing. Was it all worth it?
The Shire was peaceful again, Sam and Rosie getting married.
But he had lost all what he had cared for...

He remembered it, the day he finally stood on the edge of the fiery chasm. The decision he had made to keep the Ring. But then the fight, the Ring gone for ever, their escape, and then meeting all the others again.

But he knew that he was not the hero everyone held him for. "Frodo with the Nine Fingers"i , that reminded him daily of his error.
Would he write down his true story? Or would he, like Bilbo had, bend it?

Prisca touched his hand. "I have to go," she said. "I'll see you later. Have some cake!"

Frodo smiled at her. He was her hero. But he didn't feel like one. And while he went to the table to pick up some cake, he looked into the sky. It was blue, there were some clouds. And something was flying. He blinked. No, it was gone.
Then he heard it. Or wasn't it a real sound?

He knew what he had to do. Finish the cake first, and then his tale in the Red Book. His story. The real one. And after that, to follow the birds. Into the West. Perhaps there he would be able to be happy again, leaving Middle-earth and its inhabitants behind.

THE END