7) Wind
Frodo was born T.A. 2968. For the purpose of this story he is 6 and has already been adopted by Bilbo.
The small voice reached his ears, soft and shaking.
"I'm scared." The little halfling whispered as another gust of wind battered the window outside, shaking the glass in its pane.
"Of the wind?" The older halfling questioned.
Frodo clutched at his Uncle's shirt sleeve and nodded slowly, eyes impossibly wide and shining with fear.
"It is only the wind little one, it can't hurt you."
The halfling child nodded again, not looking convinced as he stared at the shaking window and listened to the howling outside. "It sounds angry." Frodo squeaked.
"Look on the bright side. At least it's not raining, there isn't any lighting or thunder."
The younger halfling didn't say anything.
Bilbo sighed.
"Shall I tell you a story? Will that help?"
Frodo took his eyes off the window at last and grinned at his Uncle.
"Yes, please, please can you tell the one about the dragon? Please?"
Bilbo smiled. "I always tell that one." He complained.
"I don't care I like it! Please?"
"Alright, alright I will tell it again, but only if you promise to try and forget about the wind."
"Promise." Frodo squealed with delight.
"There's my brave little nephew."