S.R. 1391, April 27
Someone was holding him. Frodo slowly became aware that he was in someone's lap, large arms surrounding him. It had been so long since he'd been in anyone's lap... it was nice... Things seemed to drift for a few minutes, then he gradually realized that a soft flow of beard was cushioning his cheek. Gandalf. He was wrapped in Bilbo's favorite quilt, curled up in the wizard's lap, in his own familiar room. As relieved as Frodo had felt, entering his tweens at last and leaving childhood behind, Gandalf's size was making him feel like a little child again. It was all right, just this once.. He sighed, his eyes closed, warm and secure inside the nest of blankets and large hands and lap.
Frodo's head ached, though the pain was still somewhat dulled by Aragorn's painkilling drink. His neck was starting to ache as well. He started to lift his head, to look up, but that made his neck hurt worse and a soft whimper escaped his lips. Gandalf shifted just slightly, and brought his hand up to the back of Frodo's head and neck. He began to stroke softly, his long fingers gently massaging in just the right places.
"Bilbo tells me you have a new little cousin," Gandalf said. His voice was quiet, soothing. "Your Uncle Paladin must be beside himself with joy; an heir at last, I believe. Peregrin. Such a grand name for such a tiny one, isn't it? We'll have to work out how he's related to you, young Frodo. You have so many cousins, I suppose it's easy to lose track."
Frodo felt the rim of a mug pressed to his lips, and he opened his eyes.
"It's just water." Frodo gulped down the cool water, trying not to move his head too much. "There we go, that's enough for now."
Frodo liked the wizard's soft voice. He listened quietly.
"Perhaps you can lend Aragorn some of your more expendable cousins, my boy. He has hardly any family, you know. Hardly anyone at all. But a brand- new friend now, I think."
"Gandalf," whispered Frodo. "Who is he? What... what does he...?"
"Ah," said the wizard. "Aragorn is a Ranger. Rangers are very brave and good Men who protect weaker folk from harm and keep the roads safe. And so much more, Frodo, so much more. Like your Uncle Bilbo, Aragorn is older and wiser than he appears. More beneath the surface than you would imagine." He chuckled. "Much like some hobbits I know!"
Frodo was relieved to discover that he had stopped shaking with cold. He felt so nice and warm now, almost too warm. Warm and sleepy. But so dizzy...
"Aragorn is quite a special person. I suspect you might be quite special as well. Your Uncle Bilbo wouldn't adopt just anyone, let me assure you."
"Bilbo..." Frodo murmured.
"I sent Bilbo off to get a little rest; it's quite late. I'll stay with you for a bit, if that's all right?"
"Oh, yes."
"Are you happy here with Bilbo?"
"Oh, Gandalf, I love him so very much. I never thought I would be happy... ever again."
"I'm very glad to hear that. Now, you must tell me if you need quiet, Frodo. We can just sit and be quiet together."
"No, please talk. I don't want..." A slight chill swept over Frodo again and he closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm scared," he whispered.
"I know. It's all right." The wizard brought the mug back to Frodo's lips and helped him take another drink. "Bilbo believes that you two were destined to find each other."
"I think so, too," Frodo whispered.
"You don't mind that he is a bit out of the ordinary? Most think he is, you know."
"'Course he is," Frodo said. "He's kinder and more wonderful than anyone."
The wizard smiled.
"You're different than I imagined, Gandalf," Frodo said. "Very nice, not at all..."
"Yes?"
"Blustery. Dangerous."
The wizard chuckled at the lad's choice of words. "I can be both of those things, Frodo, but I will try to behave myself for a few more days."
"Aren't you... leaving soon? Aragorn's better."
"We'd both like to stay until you're feeling better."
"Oh," Frodo sighed, one hand curling contentedly in the wizard's long beard. He had forgotten what it felt like to have so many people care about him at the same time. He fought desperately to stay awake; there were so many questions he wanted to ask.
"Gandalf, when you found Aragorn, couldn't you just.. heal him?"
"No, Frodo."
"Oh." Frodo thought about that. "What can you do?"
Gandalf laughed. "Frodo Baggins, I believe you are the first person, be he Hobbit, Man, Elf, or Dwarf, who has ever had the courage to ask me that question."
Frodo smiled, then winced as he felt the pain in his head growing again. "Hurts..." Gandalf's long fingers resumed their gentle, soft stroking along Frodo's neck and shoulders.
"Bilbo has shared his stories with you, of his adventure and what he experienced outside the Shire."
"Yes."
"There are some very evil things in Middle-earth, my lad --- creatures with dark hearts and Shadows that want to spread. I help fight the Darkness, Frodo."
"Creatures like Gollum and the Mirkwood spiders?"
"Something like that."
Another, stronger chill shook Frodo, followed by a flush of heat that left him limp and confused. "Bilbo..."
Gandalf sighed; the boy was getting worse. He bent close. "It's all right, I've got you."
Frodo's thoughts cleared, but a strange, swirling heaviness was pulling at him. He didn't want to sleep... not yet... "Tell me more about... Aragorn," he murmured.
"Let's see now." Gandalf kept his voice low. "He speaks several languages and has learned many skills. He has traveled to so many places --- farther even than Bilbo, if you can imagine such a thing." Gandalf felt the boy relax, his breathing growing deeper and slower. "There's so much of Middle- earth for you to someday see and explore, Frodo, so many different kinds of people, languages, cultures. A remarkable place, altogether. Quite a remarkable place."
Gandalf let his voice soften and fade as his small burden slid back into sleep. After a few minutes, he stood up and gently lay his bundle of sleeping hobbit back in the small bed.
When he was sure Frodo was sleeping soundly, Gandalf left the room and walked thoughtfully to the front door of Bag End. Opening it, he stepped outside and breathed deeply of the sweet air from Bilbo's fragrant gardens. He pulled out his pipe and filled it with the excellent pipe-weed Bilbo had given him; 'Old Toby', he had called it. Gandalf was certain Aragorn was going to enjoy it greatly; another Shire treasure to be protected, to be sure.
The wizard had never believed in coincidence; that Aragorn and this hobbit lad had formed such an instant, unlikely friendship, under these most unlikely of circumstances --- that these two had met at all --- were interesting things to ponder. He had never known the grave, reserved Aragorn to grow so attached to anyone, so quickly. At least, the wizard thought with a smile, not to anyone mortal.
The wizard stood quietly on Bilbo's front porch for awhile, thinking. Mortal life, he mused. It was so fragile; the smallest thing, the least mistake, and a precious life gone. How many mortals had he known in his long life? Yet so few friends. Two of them, a resilient ex-burglar and the hidden heir of kings, were here, at Bag End. And now perhaps another; this unusually endearing child.
But not just another child; a Baggins. Gandalf chuckled softly to himself. Another remarkable Baggins.
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