A Beginning
It was Frodo's first day at Bag End.
He was extremely nervous, and even quieter than normal. After helping Bilbo get all his luggage unloaded off the cart and into his new room—his room!—Frodo spent the late morning wandering around the halls and memorizing everything, taking it all in with wide eyes. He was still trying to adjust and get himself oriented; and a part of him still wasn't sure this was a real and permanent arrangement.
Bilbo suggested they eat their elevensies out in the garden, since it was such a lovely day and they could use some fresh air, and Frodo mutely agreed.
In the garden, they met old Hamfast Gamgee; it was his day off that day, but he'd come by to say hello and introduce himself and welcome the new young master of Bag End. Frodo thanked him politely but shyly, half hiding behind his uncle, and Bilbo said many more numerous and courteous words on Frodo's behalf.
And then, poking out from behind Hamfast's leg, was a little head of curly hair and two wide, curious eyes.
"Oh!" cried Bilbo, thankfully voicing Frodo's thoughts for him as he stared. "Well, who is this?"
Hamfast laughed. "Oh, don't ye mind him, Mister Bilbo. This here's my youngest, Sam. He heard where I was going and wanted to come along, it seems, though he didn't count on meeting new faces. Always my shadow, this one, when I'm not working. Seems he'd follow me nearly to the end of the earth, if you take my meaning."
The entire time Hamfast was talking, Frodo and Sam had been staring at each other. Frodo wasn't a stranger to other children—heaven knows there were enough of them making a ruckus around Brandy Hall—but this was a child that Frodo had never seen before, and it wasn't a relative, and he didn't exactly know what to do with him. Worse, it was the child of someone that Uncle Bilbo seemed to consider a friend, and Frodo didn't want to make a bad impression if he was really going to be staying here for the foreseeable future.
Eventually, Frodo managed to muster a small smile and a tiny wave and a voiceless "hello". Sam immediately planted his face in the back of his father's pant leg, too shy to respond, but by and by he peeped out again, and—seeing that Frodo is still there, looking friendly but a little lost—smiled at him.
And then they both proceeded to play Tag on the lawn and argue over the right name for it (it was called Tig in Brandy Hall and Frodo insisted that that's the correct name but Sam stubbornly argued that it's called Catch) and share the crumpets that Frodo was going to have with his elevensies and the rest, as they say, was history.
A/N: I'm currently running an ask game on my LotR tumblr blog, Frodo-With-Glasses, and because I am a Writer(TM) my answers keep spawning little ficlets like this. I thought I'd post them here as well, to serve as evidence that I am not dead!
Many apologies to those of you who are waiting on an update to End of Infinity. I just don't want to write it. :-D
Stay tuned for more!