CHAPTER 11

Over the next few days Frodo's health improved steadily. After the second week Bilbo kept his promise. They soon fell in to a routine. Every morning they would both retire to the study, where Bilbo would teach his nephew Quenya. He found that Frodo was a very quick learner and, within a short time he was able to translate short passages from some of the simpler texts, with Bilbo's help.

In the afternoons Bilbo would continue with his own studies and Frodo would amuse himself. More often than not, he would continue his practice of finding a strong old tree and climbing on to one of the lower branches to read a book. Sometimes Daisy Gamgee would stop and say hello, for she always seemed to know where he was hiding. Sometimes she would bring her younger brother or sister. Marigold was a bright hearted, if plain looking seven year old and Sam was a terribly serious ten year old, whom the Gaffer had already given little tasks to do in Mr Bilbo's garden.

Whilst he was developing a serious dislike of the seemingly ever present Daisy, Frodo quite liked Sam. Although there was a big difference in their ages, the younger hobbit's serious nature made his seem older and Frodo's lighter temperament made him seem younger.

Unlike the Gaffer, if Sam was set a little job in the garden, he was willing to let Frodo lend a hand. The tweenager was careful not to get caught by Sam's Da, however, because he suspected that it would be Sam who got in to bother, not Frodo. In return, Frodo would tell Sam stories about elves. The lad seemed even more eager to meet elves than Frodo, if that were possible, and avidly soaked up any information his friend offered.

When Frodo confided his friendship to Bilbo one evening the older hobbit beamed.

"I wonder if Sam would like to join us in our studies," he mused.

Frodo nearly jumped up and down with delight. "Oh, Bilbo. That would be wonderful! Can I go and ask him?"

"Woe there! Just a minute. It's not Sam we should be asking, but the Gaffer. He may not want his son to learn to read. Some people would consider it improper for a lad of Sam's station."

Frodo frowned in confusion. At Brandy Hall all the children learned to read, as a matter of course. He found it unthinkable that anyone would actually refuse the opportunity when it was offered. Bilbo smiled as he watched the expressions chase across Frodo's open features.

"Don't worry, Frodo. I think I can persuade the Gaffer. I have a helper on the inside." He tapped the side of his nose and winked. "Let me handle it. Don't you go saying anything to Sam until I say it's safe, and then I'll let you break the news to him."

And so it was that, with a great deal of pressure on the Gaffer from Bel, Sam would arrive twice a week at Bag End, with slate and chalk, for his reading and writing lessons and a new friendship was birthed.

Late one summer morning Bilbo and Frodo were sitting with their elevenses in the study when there was a knock at the door. Frodo went to answer. It was the postman with a letter for Bilbo.

Not normally a hobbit given to examining other people's mail, Frodo was, none the less, intrigued by this piece of post. It was in an envelope of the finest cream velum, bearing a large, intricate green wax seal and the writing was in a large but elegant flowing hand.

The tweenager handed it over to his uncle and then watched out of the corner of his eye as Bilbo opened it and read the contents. The older hobbit's face lit up and he looked across at his nephew.

"How do you feel about a little four day hike at the end of this week, Frodo, my lad?"

"That would be fun, Bilbo. It's a long time since we went for a hike. Did you have anywhere in particular in mind?"

Bilbo's smile turned into a chuckle. "Why don't you leave that to me? It will be my surprise. I think you will like it, though."

Frodo let loose one of his sunny laughs. "Alright, Bilbo. You can keep your secrets, but I bet I work it out before we get there."

Bilbo's eyes twinkled merrily. "You can try." He slipped the letter in to his desk drawer and locked it with a flourish; popping the key, on its fob chain, into his waistcoat pocket.

-0-

And so it was that, three days later, the two were crossing the footbridge across the Water and walking south at a leisurely pace. After lunch they turned more south easterly and Frodo started trying to guess where they were heading. They were almost paralleling the East Road, which lead to the Brandywine. Every time Frodo offered a suggestion, however, Bilbo would just chuckle and shake his head.

It was perfect weather for walking. The sun was not too strong and there was a cool, light breeze, with hardly a cloud in the sky, so they camped overnight in a hollow beyond a large stand of old elm trees, rather than seeking out an inn. Over a leisurely supper Bilbo told one of his many stories of the history of the elves and Frodo listened avidly, trying to remember every detail so that he could pass it on to Sam when they got back.

The next day, Bilbo led them in a more easterly direction, which convinced Frodo that they were going to visit Brandy Hall. The prospect did not terrify him as much as it would have done a few months before. He felt secure in the knowledge that his uncle would not be sending him back to live there and was quite looking forward to seeing some of his cousins. Bilbo, on the other hand, would neither confirm nor deny that Brandy Hall was their destination.

Throughout their journey Bilbo had Frodo review some of their lessons in Quenya. With no books to read, he concentrated on pronunciation, something that he had not bothered over much with in the past, wanting the lad to understand the language first. As the journey went on, Frodo began to discover just how lyrical a language Quenya was. He envied his uncle for having heard it spoken by elves during his stay in the magical valley of Rivendell for it seemed to the tweenager that the spoken words flowed as beautifully as the written ones. If elves were as beautiful as their language they were to be wondered at indeed.

For most of the second day they followed the road to Stock and by tea time they had reached the eves of the Woody End. Frodo wanted to move on, so that they could reach Brandy Hall before supper, but his uncle insisted that they camp here for the night. And so it was that they sat within the pleasant coolness of the wood and ate their tea. Afterwards, Bilbo laid back and Frodo was surprised to see him go to sleep. After a while, bored of the silence, Frodo lay back too and within a little while, lulled by the whisper of the leaves and evening birdsong, he fell asleep.