3.  Discoveries

The next thing Frodo was aware of was that he was much too cold, which was puzzling because he was covered by a veritable mountain of soft blankets.  After that, he noticed that he couldn't breathe through his nose, and his mouth was painfully dry.

"Mama?"  Frodo croaked experimentally.

"She's not here," said a voice abruptly. 

Frodo sat up slowly, his memories gradually returning.  He was in his own little bed in the room he shared with his cousin Bolo, in Brandy Hall.  His parents were... dead.  Frodo felt rather silly for forgetting something so important.  He glanced across the dimly lit room to see Bolo lounging on the other bed.

"What happened?" Frodo finally asked, trying to clear his scratchy throat.

Bolo snorted derisively.  "You fell asleep in the hallway again.  Cousin Merimac found you and brought you back here.  What's the matter with you, anyway?  You've lived here almost two years and you still get lost!"

"I wasn't lost," Frodo replied indignantly.  "I was having an... adventure!"  Frodo was very proud of remembering that important word.

Bolo laughed at that.  "Oh, really?  Did you run into any trolls this time?"  Bolo didn't have much use for his imaginative younger cousin.  The brat had been given Bolo's own room to share, and he wasn't even much fun.  He was too young to play the rough games Bolo played with his friends.  He wouldn't even go swimming in the Brandywine like a normal Brandybuck.  The only use Bolo had found for Frodo was that the younger hobbit was fun to torment.

Frodo frowned and flopped back down on his bed.  Bolo was three years older and Frodo was often at his mercy, as they were frequently unsupervised, but Frodo wouldn't give the other boy the satisfaction of admitting that he still couldn't find his way around Brandy Hall.

"Uncle Bilbo met trolls," Frodo said reproachfully.

"Oh, yes!  Good old Mad Baggins!"  Bolo chortled.  "I bet you'll grow up to be just like him!"

Frodo sat up again furiously.  "Don't you talk about Uncle Bilbo like that!"  he cried.

"He's not even your uncle, Frodo," Bolo said cruelly.  "He's your cousin.  So are 'Aunt' Esmeralda and 'Uncle' Saradoc!"

"No!" shouted Frodo, forgetting his sore throat.  He had been addressing his favourite relatives as Aunt or Uncle for years; he hated to think of the only remaining hobbits who loved him having a title in common with Cousin Bolo.

"At least Bilbo doesn't have blue eyes like you," Bolo went on, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting.  "Hobbits don't have blue eyes!  What are you, anyway?"

Frodo wanted to say that Mama had blue eyes, but somehow he knew that if he brought up his mother, Bolo would insult her too, and Frodo didn't think he could bear that.  Instead, he turned away from Bolo without responding.  He had always liked his blue eyes, anyway.  They reminded him of the Elves in Uncle Bilbo's stories: exotic and striking.

The round door to their room started to open then, and Esmeralda poked her head in.

"Frodo?  I thought you were still asleep," she said, coming into the room with a steaming mug and a glass of water.  "What's the matter, my pet?"

"Aunt Esmelda, are you really my aunt?"  Frodo asked tearfully.

"Of course I am, darling," Esmeralda answered, knowing Frodo's penchant for addressing various relatives by the wrong title.  She thought it was rather endearing, especially since the child had always had difficulty pronouncing her name.  "Why do you ask?"

"Bolo said you're my cousin," Frodo answered. 

Esmeralda paused, noting Frodo's distress and guessing who was behind it.  "Bolo Brandybuck," she said finally.  "Your mother is looking for you.  It's time for supper."

Bolo slipped off his bed eagerly, sticking out his tongue at Frodo as he left the room.  Frodo stared back with all the dignity a thirteen-year-old hobbit could muster.

"Drink some of this, Frodo-lad," Esmeralda said, coming to sit on the edge of his bed and holding out the steaming mug she had brought.  "You have a nasty cold."

Frodo sipped from the mug as Esmeralda held it for him.  It was nice warm chicken broth, he realized.  He couldn't smell it, but at least it felt good on his throat.

Once Frodo had finished the broth, Esmeralda scooted back against the wall and pulled the little hobbit into her lap.

"Frodo," she began.  "I want you to listen carefully, all right?"  She felt Frodo nod solemnly from his position cuddled closely against her.

"Saradoc and I both love you very much, and nothing can change that."  Esmeralda paused to gauge the effect her words were having.  "We don't mind at all that you call us aunt and uncle, but in actual fact, we are your cousins."

Frodo frowned.  "Bolo was right?" he said uncertainly.

"Yes, dear, although it was very wrong of him to tease you as he did." 

"What are cousins?"

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow.  Genealogy was one of the most important subjects taught to young hobbits, but Frodo had not yet started school.  How much would he understand?  She wondered, not for the first time, if she and Saradoc were ready for what would be coming in a few months...

"Cousins are the children of your parents' brothers and sisters, or the husbands and wives of those children," Esmeralda said, deciding to stick with first cousins.  You have many cousins here in Buckland, and all of them love you.  Do you understand?"

Frodo tried to figure that out, but gave up eventually.  He liked the part about his cousins loving him, although he rather doubted it was true of Bolo...

Seeing that Frodo was satisfied, Esmeralda began tucking him back into bed.  She was glad she hadn't tried to explain second cousins, cousins-once-removed, and all the other complicated relationships that existed in the Brandybuck clan.

"Now you get some rest, young hobbit.  You still have a bit of a fever.  You really should have come to me earlier!"

Frodo thought about telling her that he had tried to find her, but really he was getting drowsy, and he was finally starting to feel warm again.  Frodo closed his eyes.

Esmeralda kissed Frodo on the forehead and blew out the lamp.  "That's right, just go back to sleep, my pet.  I'll bring you some supper in a bit," she said, setting the glass of water on the dresser in case Frodo got thirsty later.

Frodo suddenly opened his eyes and sat up again, remembering something he had been wondering about earlier.  He rarely had the chance to ask all the questions he came up with, and he wasn't about to waste an opportunity.

"Aunt Esmelda?  Is it almost springtime?"  he asked hopefully, remembering that Bilbo might be coming any day now, if it was spring.

"No, dear," replied a puzzled Esmeralda.  "Not for another month and a half!  It's only February yet."

"Oh," said Frodo, trying to conceal his disappointment.  A month and a half was a long time, but that was all right.  Frodo could wait, and make up new adventures between now and then.  "Thank you, Aunt Esmelda."

Esmeralda smiled and closed the door behind her.