Chapter 2
The first half-hour of riding went rather smoothly. Frodo talked with Bilbo till the old hobbit ordered him to rest his voice a while. "You just got over a bad cold, lad."
Frodo sighed. His Uncle was so overprotective with everything-always making sure he had at least five pocket handkerchiefs when he went out, little things like that. Despite the nagging, Frodo loved the old hobbit dearly and had to give Bilbo credit for dealing with him.
After about ten minutes of silence, Frodo felt something land on his forehead and gazed up. The sky was a mixture of gray and white, and when he could focus his eyes properly he saw little flakes falling. "Bilbo-it's starting to snow," Frodo announced, urging his dapple-gray pony to catch up to Bilbo's chesnut one.
Bilbo felt his heart sink. He noticed the snowflakes too, but it wasn't snowing hard yet. Still, that didn't mean anything, and in a few hours they could be in the middle of a blizzard for all they knew. "Would you like to go back to Brandy Hall, Frodo? It's only fourty-minutes away." Bilbo suggested. He knew he'd never forgive himself if he'd continued riding home and a heavy snow fell. Frodo, he knew, would surely get sick again.
When there was no reply, Bilbo turned his head. "Did you hear me?" He asked calmly.
Frodo blinked. "Sorry-what did you say? I was drifting a bit."
Bilbo smiled. "Would you like to turn back? I'd hate for us to get stuck in a big storm. I should have listened to your Aunt Esmerelda and waited another week just in case."
Frodo smiled back. "That's not necessary, Bilbo. It's not snowing hard, and it'll probably end in a bit. By foot it would take us three days but by pony probably two."
Bilbo sighed. "Well-I suppose if you feel that you don't need to turn around, then we'll continue."
And so they did. They came to the edge of the forest on the outskirts of Buckland, and began to make their way through it. Frodo broke into a small fit of coughing on the way, and both had to stop till the fit passed. It was so cold that Frodo's lungs were protesting.
"Are you all right?" Bilbo called from a few feet ahead.
"Yes, Uncle." Frodo gazed up at the thick gray clouds that filled the sky, and shivered as a cold wind blew. He loved the wintertime when he was at home in Hobbiton, resting comfortably in front of the cozy fire in the parlor with the smell of roasted chesnuts wafting through from the kitchen. Hot chesnuts. Frodo closed his eyes and imagined their delicious taste. What a treat they were any time of the year, but particularly in the winter. "And the Gaffer's butter." He spoke randomly, causing Bilbo to laugh heartily.
"I beg your pardon?" He asked with a wink. "Hungry are you?" Bilbo checked his golden pocketwatch. "My goodness-I think it is about time we stopped and had a bite to eat."
They found a nice clearing inside a grove of trees, and tied their ponies to the trunks. Frodo fed his an apple from his pack and giggled when it licked his hand. "That tickled!" He gasped. The horse grunted in reply and pawed the snowy ground, bobbing his head up and down.
"Come, Frodo." Bilbo told the lad. "It's dry over here, and I'll set up a blanket for us to sit on. We don't have much but bread, cheese and fruit."
Frodo shrugged as he sat down on the blanket. "It is fine, Bilbo. But it is getting very c-cold and I think my f-fingers and t-toes are going to turn to icicles."
Bilbo drew Frodo close to him, trying his best to warm the little one up. "There we are. Some bread and cheese for you-not too much now. And some cider-there's a good lad."
Frodo bit into the bread, snuggling against his Uncle's thick blue and gold cloak as he chewed. He loved outings, and while he lived at Brandy Hall he always remembered daydreaming about going on adventures with Bilbo, just the two of them. 'To bad I've been so ill,' Frodo thought miserably as another fit of coughing took over.
The break was not a long one, but the food helped Frodo regain some of his strength before they re-mounted the ponies and began moving again. Unfortunately for the both of them, the snow began to fall at a rediculous rate by the time they reached West Farthing, nearly one and a half days away from Hobbiton. Frodo could see the lights far off in the distance from the hobbit holes, pubs and inns, though an enormous stretch of snow-covered ground separated them from the area. All that could be heard was the sound of the wind whistling and Frodo's teeth chattering. Bilbo just knew they had to find an inn to take shelter for the night.
"You need rest, lad. And I think we'll find somewhere in the East Farthing that will house us until the snow lets up."
Frodo was too exhausted to protest and they made their way towards the town. "Can't see," Frodo gasped after a while. "Bilbo? The snow is stinging my eyes!"
"Do you have your hood up, Frodo?" Bilbo called, turning around. He could barely make out the form of his nephew and pony because of the thick flakes falling all around him. "Frodo? Can you hear me?" he shouted.
"What?" Frodo called. He could hear Bilbo's faint speech but couldn't quite make out what his Uncle was saying.
"Catch up, lad!" Bilbo yelled. " 'Tis only a mile till we reach the ferry landing that I can see! I'll stay here until.."
A crack of thunder broke through the clouds and Bilbo heard Frodo's pony let out a screech and heard Frodo yell in surprise. "FRODO!" Bilbo turned his pony and galloped towards the direction of the noise.
"BILBO! STOP THIS THING!" Frodo hollered as he clutched the reins with all his might. The pony was going at a lightening speed for an animal its size, and Frodo was terrified. He rarely rode horses, so he had no idea how to stop it.
"I'M COMING, FRODO! HOLD ON!" Bilbo yelled, now feeling very ill. He couldn't see Frodo at all now, but he could hear the tweenager's cries and then nothing. "FRODO!" Bilbo screamed. "FRODO!" He gently pulled the reins on his pony so that it slowed down to a stop. "Oh now look what a mess you've gotten yourself into, Bilbo Baggins. Stop and think-don't panic now." He shielded his eyes from the snow, trying to see if he could make out any moving object. He started the pony up again and galloped in the direction he had last heard Frodo's call.
The first half-hour of riding went rather smoothly. Frodo talked with Bilbo till the old hobbit ordered him to rest his voice a while. "You just got over a bad cold, lad."
Frodo sighed. His Uncle was so overprotective with everything-always making sure he had at least five pocket handkerchiefs when he went out, little things like that. Despite the nagging, Frodo loved the old hobbit dearly and had to give Bilbo credit for dealing with him.
After about ten minutes of silence, Frodo felt something land on his forehead and gazed up. The sky was a mixture of gray and white, and when he could focus his eyes properly he saw little flakes falling. "Bilbo-it's starting to snow," Frodo announced, urging his dapple-gray pony to catch up to Bilbo's chesnut one.
Bilbo felt his heart sink. He noticed the snowflakes too, but it wasn't snowing hard yet. Still, that didn't mean anything, and in a few hours they could be in the middle of a blizzard for all they knew. "Would you like to go back to Brandy Hall, Frodo? It's only fourty-minutes away." Bilbo suggested. He knew he'd never forgive himself if he'd continued riding home and a heavy snow fell. Frodo, he knew, would surely get sick again.
When there was no reply, Bilbo turned his head. "Did you hear me?" He asked calmly.
Frodo blinked. "Sorry-what did you say? I was drifting a bit."
Bilbo smiled. "Would you like to turn back? I'd hate for us to get stuck in a big storm. I should have listened to your Aunt Esmerelda and waited another week just in case."
Frodo smiled back. "That's not necessary, Bilbo. It's not snowing hard, and it'll probably end in a bit. By foot it would take us three days but by pony probably two."
Bilbo sighed. "Well-I suppose if you feel that you don't need to turn around, then we'll continue."
And so they did. They came to the edge of the forest on the outskirts of Buckland, and began to make their way through it. Frodo broke into a small fit of coughing on the way, and both had to stop till the fit passed. It was so cold that Frodo's lungs were protesting.
"Are you all right?" Bilbo called from a few feet ahead.
"Yes, Uncle." Frodo gazed up at the thick gray clouds that filled the sky, and shivered as a cold wind blew. He loved the wintertime when he was at home in Hobbiton, resting comfortably in front of the cozy fire in the parlor with the smell of roasted chesnuts wafting through from the kitchen. Hot chesnuts. Frodo closed his eyes and imagined their delicious taste. What a treat they were any time of the year, but particularly in the winter. "And the Gaffer's butter." He spoke randomly, causing Bilbo to laugh heartily.
"I beg your pardon?" He asked with a wink. "Hungry are you?" Bilbo checked his golden pocketwatch. "My goodness-I think it is about time we stopped and had a bite to eat."
They found a nice clearing inside a grove of trees, and tied their ponies to the trunks. Frodo fed his an apple from his pack and giggled when it licked his hand. "That tickled!" He gasped. The horse grunted in reply and pawed the snowy ground, bobbing his head up and down.
"Come, Frodo." Bilbo told the lad. "It's dry over here, and I'll set up a blanket for us to sit on. We don't have much but bread, cheese and fruit."
Frodo shrugged as he sat down on the blanket. "It is fine, Bilbo. But it is getting very c-cold and I think my f-fingers and t-toes are going to turn to icicles."
Bilbo drew Frodo close to him, trying his best to warm the little one up. "There we are. Some bread and cheese for you-not too much now. And some cider-there's a good lad."
Frodo bit into the bread, snuggling against his Uncle's thick blue and gold cloak as he chewed. He loved outings, and while he lived at Brandy Hall he always remembered daydreaming about going on adventures with Bilbo, just the two of them. 'To bad I've been so ill,' Frodo thought miserably as another fit of coughing took over.
The break was not a long one, but the food helped Frodo regain some of his strength before they re-mounted the ponies and began moving again. Unfortunately for the both of them, the snow began to fall at a rediculous rate by the time they reached West Farthing, nearly one and a half days away from Hobbiton. Frodo could see the lights far off in the distance from the hobbit holes, pubs and inns, though an enormous stretch of snow-covered ground separated them from the area. All that could be heard was the sound of the wind whistling and Frodo's teeth chattering. Bilbo just knew they had to find an inn to take shelter for the night.
"You need rest, lad. And I think we'll find somewhere in the East Farthing that will house us until the snow lets up."
Frodo was too exhausted to protest and they made their way towards the town. "Can't see," Frodo gasped after a while. "Bilbo? The snow is stinging my eyes!"
"Do you have your hood up, Frodo?" Bilbo called, turning around. He could barely make out the form of his nephew and pony because of the thick flakes falling all around him. "Frodo? Can you hear me?" he shouted.
"What?" Frodo called. He could hear Bilbo's faint speech but couldn't quite make out what his Uncle was saying.
"Catch up, lad!" Bilbo yelled. " 'Tis only a mile till we reach the ferry landing that I can see! I'll stay here until.."
A crack of thunder broke through the clouds and Bilbo heard Frodo's pony let out a screech and heard Frodo yell in surprise. "FRODO!" Bilbo turned his pony and galloped towards the direction of the noise.
"BILBO! STOP THIS THING!" Frodo hollered as he clutched the reins with all his might. The pony was going at a lightening speed for an animal its size, and Frodo was terrified. He rarely rode horses, so he had no idea how to stop it.
"I'M COMING, FRODO! HOLD ON!" Bilbo yelled, now feeling very ill. He couldn't see Frodo at all now, but he could hear the tweenager's cries and then nothing. "FRODO!" Bilbo screamed. "FRODO!" He gently pulled the reins on his pony so that it slowed down to a stop. "Oh now look what a mess you've gotten yourself into, Bilbo Baggins. Stop and think-don't panic now." He shielded his eyes from the snow, trying to see if he could make out any moving object. He started the pony up again and galloped in the direction he had last heard Frodo's call.