As Mr. Baggins was generous with his money,
most people were willing to forgive him his oddities and his
good fortune.
‘A Long-Expected Party’, The Fellowship of the Ring
Aragorn returned to the bedroom clean from his bath. He had
put his tunic and trousers back on, the bandage from his head
dangling from one hand. He smiled at the sight of Frodo
lying sound asleep -- looking very small and vulnerable in the
large bed -- and Scamp curled beside the boy. Bilbo had
dressed and sat quietly in a chair, sipping some tea.
Aragorn saw what the old hobbit was looking at: the sheath that
held the shards of Narsil.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Bilbo said, holding out his hand. Aragorn knelt by the chair. Bilbo tossed the soiled bandage into a nearby clothes hamper, and re-wrapped Aragorn’s sprained wrist in a fresh cloth Gilly had left. “How is the pain?”
“The headache is down to a dull roar, fortunately,” Aragorn said. “My wrist is throbbing rather a lot, however. Perhaps washing my hair was a task best left for another time.”
“Here, let me see the bump.” Aragorn turned his head, and Bilbo parted the Ranger’s damp hair and looked carefully at the injury. “Gilly was right, it does look much better. Do you wish it bandaged?”
“I think not. It feels tender, but not too bad.”
“Gilly re-filled the ice pack for your wrist,” Bilbo said, motioning to a cloth-wrapped bundle sitting in a bowl on the table. “There is willowbark tea in that pot with lots of honey, and Bell made sandwiches.”
“Thank you, my friend. I doubt I would get finer care in Rivendell itself.”
“Ah, Rivendell... I remember it very fondly.”
“Bilbo,” Aragorn said urgently, “I need to ask you about Halbarad; he knew so little about the meeting with the Dwarves, and its location, and I was barely conscious enough to speak with him. Did you see him this morning before he left?”
“No,” Bilbo shook his head. “However, we talked for many hours last night. I told him much about Dwarves and their ways, and reminded him that he was chosen to be by your side for a reason. He may not be Chieftain, as you believed, but he is a good and noble man.”
“He is, indeed,” Aragorn agreed. “But I am concerned that he will not know exactly where--”
“He will,” Bilbo assured him. “I showed him on one of my maps the spot where you told me the meeting would take place. He took the map with him.” He smiled at the Ranger. “Do not worry, Estel; he will make you proud.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Aragorn said fervently. “Thank you for all you have done. And now...” He turned to look at the sleeping tween. “What did the healer say about Frodo?”
“Nothing broken, and no internal injuries,” Bilbo said, tears suddenly springing to his eyes. “I had feared...”
“Bilbo...” Aragorn took the old hobbit’s hands in his own. “He will be fine. I am sorry that you have been through so much during these past days.”
Bilbo closed his eyes for a moment. “I haven’t wanted Frodo to see my fear. He’s had so much upheaval in his life. Safety, reassurance, stability... these are what he needs so very much.”
“You give Frodo everything he needs, and more,” Aragorn assured Bilbo. “Never think otherwise.” He sat on the bed next to Frodo. To Scamp’s delight, he started to pet the tiny dog, and then gently felt the swollen tummy. “A few more days,” he said absently.
“You have a healer’s instinct,” Bilbo said, “and a gentle manner with those who look to you for reassurance. Did I ever tell you when it was I first knew I could trust Frodo into your care?”
“I would like to hear it,” Aragorn said softly.
“When Gandalf first brought you here, four years ago, Frodo took to you immediately – as you know,” Bilbo said. “You were so kind to him, so patient and attentive -- the very things he had lacked for so long. As you have heard, after the death of his parents he was cared for and educated, but somewhat overlooked. His curiosity was endless, but there are so many people in Brandy Hall, it wasn’t easy for him to get the attention he needed.”
“You changed all that,” Aragorn said. “You... and young Sam.”
“As did you,” Bilbo said. “In case you don’t know it, I doubt Frodo would tolerate being called ‘little one’ by anyone else -- but he lights up when you use that nickname. He knows you consider him neither little nor insignificant.”
“Far, far from it.”
“He even heard you use that name when you called him back from his terrible fever, years ago.” Bilbo looked at the ranger shrewdly. “Do you remember that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You are a natural healer, Estel, with unique abilities. Why do you suppose that is true?”
“I grew up in Rivendell. I must have...”
“And why do you think you grew up there?” Bilbo leaned forward gazing steadily at the Ranger. “You can trace your ancestry back to Elros, brother of Lord Elrond, and to their father, Eärendil, and back even to Melian, the Maia who wedded Thingol. I learned this when last we met, and I was honored to have your trust. You are Chieftain of the Men of the West, with all the honor and responsibility that brings. Your destiny is a great one, Aragorn.”
Aragorn frowned at the use of his given name. Halbarad had told him that Bilbo knew his true identity, but not Frodo. This hobbit, he thought ruefully, currently knows more about me than I do.
“Bilbo...” he sighed, “I sense that what you say is true, but my memories are incomplete. I remember what I am – a Ranger of the North – but not who I am... entirely. Certain things are starting to come back, but... I do not understand why I would forget this one thing – even temporarily – and nothing else.”
“Perhaps you just need a few days off; a bit of a vacation, as it were. I often feel that way, myself.” Bilbo smiled and got to his feet. “Or... perhaps Halbarad needed the opportunity to grow up more quickly than he would have, otherwise.”
Aragorn looked thoughtful. “Perhaps.”
Bilbo went to the bed and lifted Scamp down to the floor. The pup sniffed around, then wandered off.
“You need your rest, Estel; let’s get Frodo back in his own bed.”
“Allow me.” Aragorn lifted the sleeping tween gently.
“Be careful of your wrist,” Bilbo said worriedly.
“I am,” Aragorn smiled. He carried Frodo to his room, and settled the boy into bed.
“Thank you,” Bilbo said. “I’m going to take Scamp outside for a bit, then eat something and perhaps take a nap.”
“I may do the same. The dizziness is less, but I’m still not too steady on my feet.”
“Don’t overdo things, and don’t worry too much about Halbarad or anything else. Now then,” Bilbo said briskly, “drink up that willowbark tea Gilly left, and let us know if you need something stronger for your headache. Put that ice pack back on your wrist, and get some rest. Come to the kitchen when you are hungry. Remember that Bag End is your home whenever you are with us.”
“I most certainly remember that,” Aragorn said gratefully.
Bilbo went looking for Scamp, and found her in the kitchen – with the Gaffer. Hamfast was sitting on the floor, feeding the dog some pieces of roasted beef and talking quietly to her.
“And you don’t have to fret none. Your master’s on the mend, and we’ll see to it that no one has any worries. Why, you’re nearly ready to meet your little ones, aren’t you? You need to keep up your strength now, and...” The Gaffer looked up and saw Bilbo watching him, and scrambled to his feet, red-faced with embarrassment.
“Beg pardon, Mr. Bilbo, but the pup seemed a mite hungry,” Hamfast said quickly. “I’ll just take ’er out to the garden for a walk, and leave you to your luncheon. And then I hope you can rest a bit more, you could use it, if you don’t mind my sayin’. I left some letters from the post office for you in the dining room, sir.” With that, he hurried out of the kitchen, Scamp at his heels.
“Hamfast Gamgee, you softie,” Bilbo chuckled to himself. “Sam’s going to end up with one -- or more -- of the pups, or I’m not a Baggins.”
~*~
“Hullo, Bilbo,” Frodo yawned awake. “What time is it?”
“Nearly suppertime.” Bilbo rose out of the chair in which he had been reading, and sat on the bed. “You’ve slept all day, my lad. How do you feel?”
“Better,” Frodo said, moving around a little. “It’s easier to breathe, and I’m not so dizzy. I’m still awfully sleepy, though, and my arm is sore.”
“It will probably feel sore for some days,” Bilbo told him, feeling the boy’s forehead. “Gilly will have to let us know when the sutures can be removed. Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” Frodo replied. “Do I still have a fever?”
“It’s no higher,” Bilbo said with a relieved smile. “Perhaps by morning, it will be gone.”
“It will be,” Frodo said confidently. He thought about sitting up, but didn’t want to make his chest start hurting again. “What’s happening? Is Scamp all right?”
Bilbo chuckled. “She’s fine. As a matter of fact, you’ll be surprised to learn who seems to be worried about her the most. Feeding her, walking her...”
“Halfred?”
“Master Hamfast.”
Frodo grinned. “I’m not surprised in the least. He acts so gruff, but he’s always delighted to see Scamp out in the garden – unless she’s digging up something, that is. And his whole family takes such good care of her when you and I are out rambling about.” He sighed. “I wish he would agree to take one of the pups, but Sam is so certain he’ll refuse.”
“There might be a way,” Bilbo said mysteriously. “And speaking of the pups, guess who else might like one?”
“Not Estel, I wouldn’t think,” Frodo frowned. “He’s always traveling around.”
“No, not Estel. Halbarad.”
“But... he’s a Ranger, too. I can see he loves Scamp a lot, and she adores him. But what would he do with a pup?”
“Our young Ranger is in love,” Bilbo smiled broadly. “If you agree, he would like to take one of the pups to his lady in Bree, as a gift. She’s a healer, and he says she is very kind.”
“That would be wonderful,” Frodo enthused. “And if they wed, she’ll be an honorary-Brandybuck-by-marriage, won’t she?”
“She will, indeed. But Frodo-lad, you must not breathe a word to Estel of this courtship. Halbarad seems very shy about it, and does not yet wish too many people to know.”
“Estel has so many secrets, I can certainly keep one from him,” Frodo laughed.
“You already are doing so, my boy,” Bilbo said quietly, and Frodo nodded. The magic ring was their secret, and only once – in a delirium – had Frodo come close to revealing it to anyone.
“Bilbo, what happened to the change purse?” Frodo asked suddenly. “Did I lose it in the explosion? I was being so careful not to--”
“You are always most careful, Frodo, and you did not lose it. As a matter of fact, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” Bilbo grew serious. “What would you say to our donating those coins – and many more – to help rebuild the ale shop? Mr. Oldbottom lost the entire building, and all his stock.”
“Of course!” Frodo said, a smile blooming across his face. “Bilbo, you never asked my advice about money before.”
“It’s time I started. You are not yet of age, Frodo, but you are my heir, and have shown true maturity regarding matters of finance.”
Frodo beamed with pride.
“And now, how about some supper, and then a bath? You’ve still got dust in your hair from yesterday.”
“I feel I could eat two suppers in a row,” Frodo said fervently. “And I was afraid someone would bathe me while I was sleeping. But... I don’t think I can sit up by myself quite yet. I might need some help, if... if you wouldn't mind.”
“Of course I wouldn't,” Bilbo said gently. He knew it was difficult for Frodo to lose any amount of independence, even for a day or two.
“Is there any roast chicken left?” Frodo asked, getting back to more important subjects.
“There is so much food in the kitchen, I can scarcely walk in there,” Bilbo laughed out loud. If his boy was clamoring for supper, he was definitely on the mend.
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