Author's Note: This is basically a pre-LOTR story on how Sam and Frodo became friends. Merry and Pippin may make an appearance, but they will eventaully have their own story, if I ever finish this one. Title subject to change.
Chapter 1: Bag End
Frodo Baggins opened his eyes slowly, not wanting to get out of bed. A streak of light invaded the comfortable darkness that lay behind his eyelids, and he groaned.
"Frodo, Frodo, are you still asleep, lad?" Bilbo's voice sounded slightly muffled, as if he was eating something. "You've already missed breakfast, and I may be forced to eat second breakfast without you!" Frodo smiled, knowing that Bilbo wouldn't mind at all if he was left to second breakfast by himself.
"I'm awake, I'm awake. Don't you start without me!" He stretched and untangled himself from the bedclothes. He dressed quickly, simply pulling his clothes from the top of one of his traveling trunks. He had only arrived at Bag End the night before, but this was no ordinary visit. He had to continually remind himself that now Bag End was his home, and Buckland was the place for visits. It hadn't seemed real when he heard that his favorite cousin, more like an uncle, really, had decided to adopt him. A rich, eccentric uncle at that! According to Frodo's rumbling stomach and the smells coming from the small dining area, Bilbo was a good cook as well. Frodo's eyes widened as he saw the amount of food on the table, and he felt they would never be wide enough to take in the entire sight. Bilbo chuckled softly and motioned to his new charge.
"Come, come, sit down. I can't wait for you much longer." It didn't appear he had waited, for there was a buttered bun in his hand with a bite out of it. Frodo sat down, his eyes still wide.
"I-I've never seen so much food for so few people!" He said, looking at it as if it would disappear at any moment.
"Ah, well, don't expect something like this every morning. It's a special, celebratory second breakfast, I suppose, to commemorate your first day as a permanent resident at Bag End." Frodo then attacked the meal like any tweenager should. Though he had a hearty appetite, he did not have the pleasant plumpness of most hobbits. Must be that supposed fairy blood. "So, are you enjoying your meal?" Bilbo asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Yef, verra muth," Frodo said, not quite between bites. He slowed down a bit and swallowed. "Heh...I was terribly excited about coming, so I haven't eaten much as of late." Bilbo nodded knowingly and returned to his own second breakfast.
After a not so long while, both hobbits had filled in all of their corners, and they began the chore of cleaning up. Frodo was glad for the quiet, so different than Brandy Hall. It had once been a luxury, but now it would be the norm. The washing actually went quicker with two people, instead of several arguing and making a general mess of things.
"I don't think I could eat another bite," Frodo said, placing the last dish in the drying rack.
"Nothing is better after a good meal than a good book, eh, Frodo? Or perhaps a song..." At the mention of books, Frodo's eyes lit up. Bilbo had the best library in all of the Shire, and he could devour books like he could devour good cooking. "Ah, I knew you'd like that. Well, come on, I think you know where the library is."
"By the looks of it, all of Bag End is a library!" Frodo laughed, pointing to a few of the several books and scrolls that lay about the dining and main living area. Bilbo harumphed.
"I suppose it is a bit cluttered and unorganized, but everything in Bag End has it's place. It just seems that my collection has outgrown one room."
"Or perhaps you simply don't like cleaning up after yourself," Frodo teased, having noticed some dust on the higher shelves in the smial. Bilbo looked at him sternly, than broke into a grin.
"You know me too well, Frodo, my boy."
Bilbo's library doubled as a study, and a large desk with a lamp sat tucked away in a corner, covered in half finished letters and inkwells. A small round window let in the sunlight, and Frodo could see the dust floating in the rays. Of all the places in Bag End, he loved the library best.
Bilbo's fingers ran along the spines of many leather books as his lips mouthed their titles.
"Ah, here it is," he said, pulling a thick book from the shelf. He rubbed a bit of dust off the cover, and handed it to Frodo. "I don't think you've read that one yet, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it."
"I think you know me nearly as well as I know you, Uncle." Frodo smiled and opened the book, eager to dive into it's yellowed pages.
"I think I'll work on my book a little bit more today," Bilbo said, pulling a small key out of one of his pockets. He unlocked one of the drawers in the desk and pulled out a red book that looked rather like a journal. "I seem to be a bit stuck on this part," he mumbled, mostly to himself.
"I think I'll go outside to read. The warmth of the sun on my back is always a welcome feeling," Frodo stated, feeling he should leave Bilbo alone to his writing. He closed the door to the library and made his way to the porch. He had barely begun to read his book when he saw two figures coming up the road. One seemed quite small.
"Who might that be," he asked himself as they approached Bag End.