Wizards in the Garden
Stretching his arm as far as he could, Frodo swiped at the jar of biscuits just out of his grasp. While Bilbo busied himself with the tea kettle, Frodo drew his feet up as to stand on his tiptoes before the chair beneath him began to sway. Noiselessly his hand jerked and grasped one of the nearby cupboards just in time to hinder his fall.
"This is hopeless," Frodo muttered to himself, sitting down on the countertop with a sigh. Chin had barely met cupped hand when he caught something rather large moving just outside the kitchen window. He turned his attention to the cloaked figure ambling to the garden gate. "Bilbo," whispered Frodo, just over the hissing and whining of the kettle. "Bilbo!" he said, a little louder, not taking his widening eyes from the rather intriguing visitor to Bag End, who was apparently having quite a time with the gate latch. "There's a wizard in the garden, Bilbo!"
Bilbo had taken the kettle handle in his hand, and promptly dropped it back onto the hook over the fire at Frodo's exclamation. "Is there really, my lad?" He brushed his hands on his cranberry colored weskit and peered out the window. "Oh heavens, always popping up where he's least expected, that Gandalf." Bilbo abandoned the tea and immediately went to work clearing maps and books from the small wooden table.
"Gandalf?" Frodo questioned, eyes widening by the second. "Gandalf the Grey?"
"Why don't you go out and say hello, Frodo-lad? I imagine he'll be quite glad to meet you."
Frodo stared at the front door and swallowed hard. He'd always wanted to meet a wizard, but his feet suddenly felt as if they were made of rock. With all the rumors of the strange visitor floating around the Shire, a flutter of anxiety welled up in Frodo's stomach. What if wizards did turn young hobbits into frogs after all?
It was too late. Frog conjurer or no, Gandalf was outside and knocking. "Frodo dear," Bilbo said, as he made for a wedge of cheese, "answer that, would you please?"
A small noise squeaked from Frodo. Cautiously, he jumped from the counter and took a few shuffling steps forward. His hand was quite unwilling to turn the small doorknob, which seemed to stick as he took the brass knob and slowly rotated his wrist.
The wizard was much taller than he'd imagined, even as a hobbit lad. He could see Gandalf's bright eyes twinkling under his bushy eyebrows and grey brimmed hat.
"You must be Frodo!" said Gandalf, whisking the small burden into his arms. "Goodness, you've grown! I do believe you have your mother's eyes." At this, Frodo immediately forgot his anxiety and beamed.
Padding feet marked Bilbo's entrance. "Well hullo there, Gandalf! Won't you come in? I've put on a fire, and the tea's just finished," Bilbo smiled, watching Frodo wrinkle his nose under the tickle of Gandalf's beard. "I see you've met Frodo."
"Aye, I have. Charming lad, that Frodo," Gandalf quickly turned and managed to run his forehead directly into the front overhang. Frodo tried not to laugh, but couldn't hold back the tide of giggles. Wincing, Gandalf ruffled the young hobbit's hair. "I wouldn't say no to one of your biscuits, Bilbo, if you've got any."
"Oh yes, we've got plenty!" Frodo said before Bilbo could answer. He jumped from Gandalf's arms emitting a startled grunt from the wizard. "They're up on the shelf, just there. I couldn't reach—" he stopped short. The biscuits were sitting on a plate in the middle of the wooden kitchen table. "Bilbo, did you..."
Gandalf's eyes twinkled. "You must've set them down and forgotten, Frodo-lad." He winked.
"Yes," Frodo grinned, "I must have."