Frodo lay in the warm grass watching the clouds float past and thinking of Bilbo's grand adventures. It was still some time before he came of age, and a lot longer until he turned 50 (the age Bilbo had been when he set out from the Shire), but he hoped he could one day have such glorious adventures of his own.

He was just imagining what it might be like to visit the dwarves in their great halls when the clopping of hooves interrupted his thoughts. He sat up and saw a rather nice wooden carriage winding up the hill towards Bag End.

"Now who could that be?" Frodo wondered aloud. He watched it roll forward behind two dark ponies. He didn't recognize it as belonging to any of the neighbors, so it wasn't the Sackville—Bagginses, at least. That knowledge alone was enough to get him to his feet and hurrying down the path behind the carriage.

Sure enough, the carriage stopped outside Bag End. Frodo was just coming around the mailbox when the carriage door opened and a young lad jumped out, shouting his name.

Frodo grinned as he recognized the little one. "Merry!"

Merry threw himself at his older cousin, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug.

"It's good to see you again too!" Frodo embraced his cousin and dear friend warmly, unable to suppress his laughter. In the short time since he had come to live at Bag End, he was amazed at how much Merry had grown. When he had last seen him, the lad had barely reached his waist: now the top of Merry's curls brushed his shoulder as he stepped back, grinning with joy. "You shall have to stop growing at some point, or you won't fit through the door!" Frodo teased. He turned to Esmeralda and Saradoc Brandybuck, greeting them politely.

"It's delightful to see you again, Frodo." Esmeralda pulled him into a hug. "Merry has been asking about you all summer."

Merry grinned sheepishly and Frodo draped an arm over his shoulder, ruffling his hair.

"Well, I'm sure you boys will find some trouble to cause sooner or later." Master Brandybuck smiled as he and his wife retreated inside to greet Bilbo, leaving the younger lads to roam the Shire.

And roam they did. For nearly an hour, they trampled about the rolling hills, picking berries from the neighbors' gardens and making piles of leaves to jump in. When at last, the sun began to sink, casting the Shire in a warm golden glow, they stopped to rest in a rather large mound of leaves they had gathered in the folds of a grassy hill. Frodo glanced longingly back at Bag End. Bilbo usually called him home by now, but there was no sign of him. No light came from his study and the curtains were drawn. He turned to Merry, frowning. "What do you suppose Bilbo's up too?"

"I don't know." Merry threw himself down beside his cousin. "Something exciting most likely. Maybe there's another dragon!"

Frodo laughed heartily and shook his head, his dark hair gleaming in the sunlight. "I very much doubt that. But I do agree it is likely exciting."

"Well how about we find out!?" Merry leapt to his feet.

Frodo leaned forward, surprised at his younger cousin's sudden enthusiasm. "How?"

Merry pointed to a figure wandering in the distance. "We follow him."

Frodo shielded the sun from his face and squinted towards the figure. Indeed it was Bilbo! Through the glare, he could barely make out the old hobbit leaning against his walking stick, but it was most certainly him. Frodo felt a twinge of regret at not having recognized him first. "Good eyes you have, Merry!"

Merry nudged his shoulder. "It doesn't matter how good an idea it was-if we don't start now, we'll lose him!"

Frodo's regret was quickly consumed by curiosity and excitement. He stood and once again shook his head in disbelief. "You'll make a good spy one day. I'll have to remember that if we ever run into trouble."

Merry grinned back. "Don't worry, I'll remind you."

The two of them hurried down the hill as quickly and quietly as they could manage. Now and then a leaf crunched beneath their feet, but if Bilbo heard, he made no sign. He continued walking, humming to himself and singing snippets of an old walking song.

Nearly five minutes passed before the humming ceased. His footsteps fell soft, barely audible against the dirt path. Merry and Frodo slowed, quieting their footsteps. They were almost directly behind Bilbo now, and on a slope above him. Frodo thought this was a good vantage point for even if his uncle glanced behind him, he would have to look upwards to spot them. Still, Frodo wouldn't put it past Bilbo to do such a thing. His uncle was often on edge and if the clever old hobbit was up to anything the least bit secretive, he would ensure he wasn't being watched.

Frodo nudged Merry towards a small cluster of bushes and the two inched towards it. Bilbo didn't move, but stood in silence at a fork in the road, waiting.

Frodo and Merry crouched behind the bush, exchanging curious glances. Still and silent they remained, watching the road for any signs of visitors. Merry was just beginning to fidget and Frodo was trying very hard not to cough when they heard the sound of a carriage approaching. Around the corner it came, wobbling and rickety, driven by two fine ponies. It stopped directly in front of Bilbo.

Bilbo smiled as he greeted the driver, but his expression soon turned somber. He lowered his voice to a whisper, which neither Frodo nor Merry could hear. The lads, now more curious than ever, left the cover of the bushes and crept forward stealthily.

"Dangerous, you say?" Bilbo raised his voice in surprise, loud enough that the eavesdroppers could hear.

"Aye," came a voice from within the carriage.

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" Bilbo said, his voice gaining volume with each word. "I always knew those two were trouble. It seems the only choice we have is to send them to the trolls."

"That seems to be the case."

"It's a pity, really. Frodo and Merry were such a pleasure to have around. If only they hadn't befriended those goblins."

At that moment, Merry gasped, and Frodo, unable to contain himself, cried out in shock, "Goblins?"

Bilbo turned around, grinning wildly. "Oh!" His face took on an expression of mock surprise. "Maybe I was mistaken. They seem confused about the goblins after all."

"Does that mean you won't send us to the trolls?" The concern was clear in Merry's voice, though he tried his best to hide it.

Frodo laughed. "Of course he won't. He just said that because he knew we were following him. Isn't that right, Uncle?"

"Right you are, lad." Bilbo grinned, shaking a finger at him. "You might want to perfect your spying skills before you go on any real adventures. And don't go using them on Dear Old Uncle Bilbo again."

Frodo looked down at his feet, feeling slightly foolish and ashamed. He nodded his agreement. "What were you really doing?"

"Nothing that was worth spying on, that's for sure. I'd have taken you along if you'd asked. But you'd have had to get up earlier, and we know the likelihood of that was dismal." Bilbo shoved a hand in his jacket pocket and placed the other on his nephew's shoulder. "Frodo, I would like to introduce you to my old friend, Paladin Took."

"Oh!" Merry stood on his toes, trying to get a good look at the passengers inside.

Frodo turned in alarm. In all his curiosity and embarrassment, he had quite forgotten the carriage and its occupants.

Paladin laughed and leaned into view. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Frodo Baggins. We've meet before, but you were too young to remember, no doubt. And as for you, young Merriadoc- you've grown since our last visit as well, though that wasn't nearly as long ago."

"Master Took and his family will be staying the night with us," Bilbo said. "They had intended to travel with the Brandybucks, but their son was giving them some trouble, it would seem. How is the lad now?"

"He's fine." Paladin responded with pride. "He's sleeping, but I'm sure he'll be up sooner or later. Then you'll see the real Took in him."

"Can't wait for that," Bilbo's voice carried the slightest hint of sarcasm that only Frodo picked up on. He cleared his throat. "Very well. Now, I'm going to accompany the Tooks back to the house, and then I have a few very normal boring tasks to attend to before supper. Nothing worth following, if you get my meaning."

Frodo nodded. "We understand, Bilbo."

"Right. Well, run home and wash up. We've got guests now, Frodo. I don't want you looking like you've been raised by a mad man." Bilbo chuckled to himself, for he knew over half the Shire thought him just that. He shook his head and joined Paladin in the carriage.

Frodo sighed as he watched it drive away. "I guess we should head back. That is, if we want to make it back in time for supper."

Merry nodded enthusiastically. "I'm starving! I hope you have apples!"

"I'm sure there will be some at the party. So you won't have long to wait either way."

Merry did not indeed have long to wait; as it turned out, Bag End was filled with fruit baskets brimming with apples that had been set out for tomorrow's party. He snatched one on his way to wash up and another while he waited for Frodo to finish changing.

When five minutes had passed and Merry had nearly finished his apple with no sign of Frodo emerging, he pounded on the door. "Hurry up! My mother can dress faster than you."

There came a sound of exasperation from within Frodo's room. The door opened shortly after. Frodo stood in his dress clothes, a pale blue vest lined with silver buttons. Frodo frowned and leaned against the dresser.

"What's wrong, Frodo?" Merry took a final bite of his apple and tossed the core out the window just as Frodo broke into a series of coughs. Merry's eyes widened. "Oh no, are you ill?"

"I'm fine," Frodo said rather instantly. He tugged at his sleeves. "I just don't think I enjoy formal clothes much, is all. I don't think I enjoy any clothes that you can't climb a tree in, for that matter."

"Who says you can't climb trees in formal clothes? I've done it before. I've also been swimming in them."

Frodo laughed, but it soon turned into a series of coughs, followed by sniffling.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Frodo nodded. His throat was a little sore, but that was nothing rare for having been out doors in the cooling evening. Besides, he had been doing a lot of talking today, more so than usual. He was sure he would feel better in the morning. It would be his birthday after all. He had to be. He grinned at Merry and ruffled his hair. "It's a good thing you're still growing or your mother would have had a fit."

"Oh she did," Merry said. "But she got over it. Come on, let's have supper. I'm starving."

Supper was spectacular. Bilbo had brought out the formal dinning table and fourteen hobbits crowded around it (Frodo wondered if his uncle had chosen this number deliberately of if its resemblance to the dwarves had occurred quite by accident) drinking and dining merrily. Bilbo told the younger lads and lasses his stories while the rest of the adults talked amongst themselves. In all the excitement, it was easy for Frodo to retreat into his thoughts, falling silent as he tried to hide the headache that began to gnaw at the back of his skull.

He waited for the sun to set and the desserts to dwindle before he said goodnight to his relatives and returned to the warmth and quiet of his bedroom. There he changed into his nightclothes, stifling a cough as an ache grew in his throat. He wasn't ill, he told himself, just tired. Tomorrow would be a new day, a wonderful day, and he would feel just fine.