S.R. 1391, September 27
It was late morning before Aragorn awoke, hours later than he usually did. Opening his eyes, he discovered Frodo, wrapped in a blanket and curled up next to him, poring over the Elvish phrase book.
“Frodo…”
“Oh!” Frodo gasped, putting down the book, “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up! Just in time for second breakfast, too. How do you feel?”
“As hungry as a hobbit.” Sitting up slowly and looking around, Aragorn saw Bilbo, Gandalf, and Sam sitting nearby. Bilbo and Gandalf were talking quietly, and Sam was staring up at the wizard in speechless awe. “I thought I only dreamed that Gandalf had arrived.”
“I was so excited to see him again,” said Frodo, his eyes shining, “and Sam thinks he’s still dreaming.”
Aragorn stretched out his sore muscles; his back was still aching, although the pain wasn’t as severe as it had been the night before.
“What hit me?”
“A branch. It was a heavy, big one --- bigger than me. The wind blew it right into you.”
“If it was bigger than you,” said Aragorn with a smile, “it must have been huge.” He reached out and pulled Frodo into a hug. His arms tightened about the boy for a long moment; if Frodo had been struck by that same heavy branch, he could have been badly hurt… or killed. As it was, he had a terrible scare.
“I’m so sorry,” Aragorn murmured. “I know I frightened you.”
“You didn’t mean to,” Frodo whispered. “Were you scared, too?”
“A little,” the Ranger admitted. “You saved my life, Frodo. You were very brave.”
“I didn’t think about being brave,” Frodo said. “This morning, I remembered something Bilbo told me, when I was sick. He said that in a crisis, the true nature of a hobbit comes out, and that…” He looked down, embarrassed.
“What?”
“He said that love gives us strength and courage when we need it most.”
“He is correct,” said Aragorn softly.
Frodo picked absently at the blanket. “Bilbo told me we have to leave today.”
“It’s all right,” Aragorn chuckled. “He told me that I’m now an honorary Baggins, so I suppose I’ll need to visit the rest of the Bagginses from time to time.”
“Good,” said Frodo with a smile.
“You’re all wrapped up; are you still cold?”
“It’s a chilly morning; Bilbo just wanted me to stay bundled up a little longer.”
“Bilbo was amazing yesterday,” mused Aragorn. “I’ve seen military campaigns less well executed.”
“As have I,” said Gandalf, coming to join them. “Frodo, let’s leave our stalwart Ranger alone for a few minutes so he can properly attire himself for breakfast.”
“Second breakfast,” Frodo corrected him. He threw off his blanket and stood up.
Aragorn looked around. “Where are my boots? And don’t tell me the trolls have made off with them.”
“There might be a few trolls lurking about, but I haven’t spotted any yet.” Frodo walked around to the other side of the fire. Picking up Aragorn’s boots, which he and Sam had washed clean of all the mud, he returned to the Ranger and dropped them on a nearby blanket, along with his tunic, which was now dry.
Aragorn finally got to his feet, stiff and sore, and walked over to Arthad, who greeted him with gentle enthusiasm. After murmuring his thanks, Aragorn joined the group around the fire. As soon as he sat down with them, Frodo and Sam plopped down on either side of him, handing him filled plates and urging him to eat.
“Sam,” said Aragorn, “I was quite astonished at what I saw yesterday; I didn’t think Arthad would obey anyone besides me.”
“I told you he was smart,” replied Sam.
“You’re pretty smart yourself, youngster.”
Sam shook his head, unwilling to take any credit for the rescue. “”Twasn’t me, sir --- Ollie knew just what he had to do.”
Aragorn sighed in defeat. “Perhaps it would be easier if I just changed his name.”
“You have a lot of names,” said Frodo with a grin. “Why shouldn’t your horse have a lot of names, too?”
Bilbo, bustling about with the food, ladled some thick soup from a pot and handed Aragorn a full mug. “You’re feeling better, Estel?”
“Thanks to you, my friend, and your courageous and resourceful helpers.” At his words, Frodo and Sam beamed with pride. “I doubt I would have lasted much longer, Bilbo, without your quick thinking and actions. And speaking of actions…” continued Aragorn between mouthfuls, “Gandalf, you said you would tell me what Bilbo was up to when you arrived. It must have been quite late.”
“It was,” the wizard replied. “Around midnight, I rode up to find Bilbo standing in front of all of you, brandishing Sting in one hand and a flaming torch in the other, ready for battle.” He smiled, remembering. “Believe me, any invasion of this camp last night would never have succeeded.”
“Sting?”
“A very sharp blade, forged in the First Age --- a rare and beautiful treasure.” The wizard chuckled at Aragorn’s astonished look. “I would continue to stay on Bilbo’s good side, if I were you.”
“Bilbo, you brought Sting?” Frodo was caught between amazement and awe, and Sam was gazing at Bilbo with an expression little short of worship. Mr. Bilbo had pulled a sword on a wizard? To defend them? This was truly the grandest of adventures!
“He was clearly exhausted, but refused to sleep until I assured him I would stay awake and keep watch.” The wizard smiled fondly at his old friend. “You are a remarkable hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, as I’ve known all along.”
“Oh, Bilbo,” breathed Frodo. “How wonderful!”
“Now now,” said Bilbo, a bit embarrassed. “I heard a horse approaching and just couldn’t take any chances, that’s all.”
“Are you telling me I slept through all of that?” Aragorn shook his head in amazement, unable to believe it.
“Gandalf, should we tell him he also slept through three Elvish drinking songs?” asked Bilbo with a grin.
“There are no Elvish drinking songs,” said Aragorn firmly. He busied himself with his soup, then looked at Gandalf. “Are there?”
“Oh, Sam, think of everything you’ll have to tell your family!” said Frodo excitedly. “So much has happened!” He started to count on his fingers. “Camping out, and riding an enormous horse, and casting a spell over the horse to make it obey you…”
Aragorn was trying hard not to laugh. “Casting a spell?”
“… and silently stalking a Ranger in his lair…”
“Now, about that ‘silent’ stalking---”
“… and rescuing Estel from certain death, and meeting a great wizard…”
“A great wizard,” Gandalf said to Aragorn solemnly.
“… and Bilbo defending us against evil invasion…”
“So much for the great wizard,” chuckled Aragorn.
“…and…” Frodo stopped for breath while Sam just stared at him in open-mouthed delight.
“Since most of that is actually true,” said Bilbo dryly, “I suppose I had better be there when Sam explains all of this; his family knows that you lads have fairly active imaginations.” He looked at Frodo. “Speaking of his family…”
Frodo’s face fell. “We have to leave?”
“As soon as we clean up everything and get packed,” Bilbo replied. “I assured Sam’s parents he’d be gone less than a week, you know.”
“I know,” said Frodo sadly, “but Gandalf’s only just arrived!”
“Don’t fret, dear boy,” said the wizard. He tousled Frodo’s curls and smiled at him. “As Bilbo will tell you, I tend to pop in now and again. Look for me when you least expect it!”
“Gandalf, don’t you let Estel ride until his back is better.” Sam would never in his life forget the sight of Bilbo, his hands on his hips, lecturing a wizard. “It’s obvious that he’s still in some pain, and could use a day’s rest.”
“I’ll do my best, Bilbo,” said Gandalf.
“There’s no way I slept through any singing, Elvish or otherwise,” declared Aragorn.
“What did I tell you, Estel?” asked Frodo. “It’s so hard to know when Bilbo’s joking and when he’s not!” He smiled. “But you’re a Baggins now, so you’ll just have to get used to it.”
“A Baggins?” Gandalf’s eyebrows quirked up. ‘Bilbo, you haven’t adopted this scoundrel as well, have you?”
“No,” said Bilbo. He grinned at Frodo. “One scoundrel is quite enough, I assure you!”
~*~
Bilbo walked over to where Frodo and Sam were standing near the wagon. All the gear and baskets were packed, and they were ready to leave.
“You know that we have to get Sam-lad back home, Frodo.”
Frodo nodded glumly.
“Turn around,” said Bilbo softly.
Frodo turned to find himself face to face with a kneeling Aragorn. The young hobbit threw himself into the Ranger’s arms, and wrapped his arms about the Man’s neck.
“Don’t… don’t forget…”
“I will never forget you, Frodo; I cannot imagine that anyone ever could.” Aragorn drew back and looked into the boy’s wet eyes. “I love you too, little one, and I will miss you --- but we will see each other again.” He bent his head to whisper in Frodo’s ear.
“Namarië, Frodo. I Belain tiria-or le [the Valar watch over you].”
Frodo smiled through his tears, proud that he had understood. “Namarië, Aragorn,” he whispered back, “no band [be safe]. Don’t let anything happen to you.”
“I will try,” Aragorn smiled. He turned to Sam and lay a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Samwise?”
“Yes, sir?”
Aragorn inclined his head toward Frodo. “Help Bilbo look after this scamp.”
Sam grinned and nodded. “I surely will, sir.”
Aragorn reached into his pocket and produced an apple, then handed it to Sam. “I thought you’d like to say a proper goodbye to Arthad, Sam. He’s going to miss you!”
Aragorn embraced Bilbo, then stood up and waited for Gandalf to say his goodbyes and for Sam to return.
“I am in your debt twice over, my friends,” the Ranger said gravely, addressing all three hobbits, “and I cannot imagine how to begin to repay you.” Bilbo started to protest, but the Ranger held up a hand. “If there is ever anything you need, Bilbo, or if I may assist Frodo or Samwise in any way, send word to ‘Strider’ in Bree. I am at your service.” So saying, he bowed to them, then stood with Gandalf as the hobbits climbed up on the cart’s seat and Bilbo took up the pony’s reins.
As the hobbits pulled away, Sam turned to Frodo.
“Why does he call you ‘little one’, Mr. Frodo? You’re not little.”
Frodo smiled at his friend. “You know how the Bagginses are, Sam. Always teasing.” With that, he and Sam twisted around and watched the Ranger and wizard as they grew smaller and smaller in the distance, everyone waving their hands in farewell.
Gandalf directed Aragorn’s attention to a nearby stump.
“Bilbo left you a pie --- it is there, under that cloth. However,” The wizard grinned, “there seems to be a piece missing; I cannot imagine how, as I have been guarding it ceaselessly.”
“Perhaps it was trolls,” said Aragorn with a straight face.
“Perhaps so,” replied the wizard thoughtfully. “I can think of no other explanation.”
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