Frodo no longer wondered at why when he needed Gandalf the most he would make himself appear, even when Frodo had not outwardly expressed it.
Frodo smile could not be larger as he watched Gandalf and Bilbo embrace, before agreeing to share some pipe weed on a hill nearby. Gandalf turned to Frodo, ducking to avoid the low beams of the hobbit-hole.
"You are well?" Gandalf asked Frodo, smiling with content as Frodo nodded his reply. Bilbo had hurried off to find his finest weed.
"This certainly is a lot smaller than the real Bag End." Gandalf commented. Frodo laughed.
"Only marginally, Gandalf! Besides, it's enough for old Bilbo and me." Gandalf said nothing.
"You have heard the latest news from the Shire?" he asked. Frodo's eyes widened.
"N-no, how could I? Please, Gandalf, tell me everything!" Gandalf agreed to, and sat himself down at the small table. There was something in Frodo's eagerness causing him to think he even detected a bit of homesickness in Frodo's tone.
"Well, I believe Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took have travelled once more to Gondor."
Frodo smiled.
"Goodness," he remarked. "And at there age! Merry must be, what, 102 by now, surely?"
"Almost to the day," Gandalf murmured. He was sure he detected homesickness now. "Never to return, I believe."
"Never to return." Frodo echoed, his smile dimming only slightly. "Please tell me about Sam, dear Gandalf." Frodo said quietly.
At that moment, Bilbo came bustling back into the room, beaming with pride for the long pipes and multitude of weed he cradled in his arms.
"There's plenty for all of us. I always make sure there's enough to please 12 dwarves!" he laughed, and Gandalf did so also. Yet Frodo watched Gandalf unhappily, still waiting for an answer to his request.
"It was so long ago, your adventure." Gandalf smiled, following Bilbo out the front door towards the hill. Frodo followed closely behind.
"It was, too." Bilbo reminisced. He giggled. "Imagine me, a shy Hobbit going all the way to Eregor." Gandalf ceased smiling.
"Erebor, my dear fellow." He corrected him. Bilbo's eyes reflected his immediate frustration, though tears soon muted this irritation, and a great sadness came in its place.
"I hardly remember any names anymore." His voice was very quiet, causing Frodo and Gandalf to have to lean in to hear him. "I need my book."
Frodo sighed, wondering how he would ever get poor Bilbo to understand.
"But it's with -"
"Sam, I know." Bilbo sighed also. "I'm sorry, Frodo, my dear." He patted Frodo's knee, who had just sat down next to him. Gandalf sat on Frodo's other side.
"Ahh, Samwise." Gandalf chuckled. Frodo looked at him expectantly.
"You never told me how Sam was doing." Frodo reminded him.
"Sam…" Gandalf paused, seemingly struggling to find the correct words. "Sam has gone on a journey." He said, nodding as though contented with the words he eventually found.
"For long?" Frodo asked, his voice strained with worry. "Poor Sam must be quite old by now, surely he shouldn't be travelling, now -"
"Hush, my dear boy!" Gandalf's eyes danced with amusement. "Gwaihir tells me all of the goings in Middle Earth, and believe me, I have not heard a thing about a Hobbit in danger. Sam is fine, I am sure."
Frodo nodded.
"Of course he's fine." He whispered to himself. "Though I wish…" Gandalf was already deep in conversation with Bilbo, reminding him that the battle with the Dragon occurred in the year 2941, and not 2951.
"Though I wish I could see him once more."
