febobe

In honour of our favourite birthdays today!

Frodo sighed. He felt utterly exhausted, entirely spent from their long journey. But it was Bilbo's birthday, and the elderly hobbit would be expecting him. Casting a wistful glance toward his large bed, laid with fluffy down pillows and soft blankets, and started toward the door. But a knock, and the arrival of Sam, interrupted him.

"Oh! I was just going to see Bilbo," Frodo began, but Sam shook his head.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I was given instructions to get you into bed. Let me get your night-shirt out."

Frodo blinked. "But it's Bilbo's birthday. I can't disappoint him."

"Well, sir, I ain't supposed to say nothing, but I don't think you'll have to. Please, sir, don't ask me nothing else; I weren't supposed to say that much even."

Astonished, Frodo began to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt, then allowed Sam to help him out of his travel-clothing and into his night-shirt. It felt strange but good to be going to bed with light still streaming through the windows.

"So I'm not supposed to know anything, then, am I?" he asked.

"No, sir, you're not." Sam helped him into bed and tucked him in. "Now, if you'll just stay right there, I'll be back." He slipped out and disappeared into the hall. Frodo sat in silence, wondering what on earth was going on, but within a few minutes he heard a light tap at the door, and Bilbo waddled in.

"Hullo, Frodo my lad! Back just in time for our birthday, aren't you?"

"Bilbo!" Frodo put out his arms to embrace his uncle, who held him close.

"They told me you might be tired after your journey, not feeling so well perhaps - whatever have you been doing with yourself? You look rather the worse for wear! But never mind that; I told them we could have our birthday-supper here, cake and all, so here is where they'll bring it."

"Dear Bilbo!" Frodo laughed. He had been so afraid of the evening he would have to get through, but to have dinner in bed, with Bilbo close at hand, was better than he could have ever imagined. And sure enough, in short order, Sam led the way back in for a host of elves, who set up a small table and brought in dishes on carts, and insisted that they would serve the Baggins birthday pair, despite Sam's protests. At last he left, shooed out by Frodo to go and have supper with Merry and Pippin, and they were alone, save for the elves who waited on them.

"I can't imagine anything better," Frodo said as the elves set cranberry meatballs and bacon tidbits and stuffed mushrooms on the table before them, with plates, and chilled goblets filled with water to start, though Frodo could see that they had brought plenty of fine white wine as well. "Are you certain you don't mind?"

Bilbo snorted. "My boy, at my age I hardly mind anything! But come now, you must tell me all about your journey. I haven't had any news, save that you managed to get to the end, and do what you went all that way for, but no one's told me how *you* are. I hear you've been ill. Tell me about it all; tell me how you are feeling."

Frodo hesitated. Did he dare to speak of the truth?

Bilbo had always been truthful with him.

Spearing a couple of stuffed mushrooms and transferring them to his plate, he nodded.

"Well, it was a very *long* journey..."

***

They dined for hours, and after the starters, there was a lovely broccoli and mushroom chowder, followed by spiced pork and candied sweet potatoes, and mushroom meatloaf with creamy mashed potatoes smothered in a beefy mushroom gravy, and glazed carrots, and green beans, and lots and lots of baked mushrooms, with glassfuls of white wine to sip while nibbling. After that came cranberry baked apples, and poached cranberries with warm gingerbread, and hot mulled cider, and finally a great birthday-cake shaped and decorated like a map of all Middle-earth, from the Shire down to Gondor, and on it they had traced Bilbo's journeys in yellow icing, Frodo's in green.

Frodo said many things, and somewhat against his better judgment he spoke openly about the worst parts of the journey: about Moria, and Gollum, and the terrible spider, as well as the tower where the orcs took him, and the horrors of Mordor and Orodruin. Bilbo's eyes grew bigger and bigger, and occasionally he would utter an exclamation of astonishment or horror, but for the most part he listened, and listened very quietly, though he did not nod off at all.

"Well, my lad," he said when Frodo had finished, "it seems you've had less fun than I had, and a much rougher go of it, to say the least. I am sorry. I should never have brought back that ring had I known! But now, it's worked out well in the end, hasn't it? Except for you, my poor boy. How I wish I could change it all! But you are here now, with me, and here is where you must stay, until we sail away into the West, with Lord Elrond and his company."

Frodo smiled sadly. "I do wish to see the Shire again, Bilbo. Just once."

"Oh! And see it you shall! But for now, at least, you must rest here, and enjoy our birthday," replied Bilbo. "Last year when you left I wondered whether we should ever celebrate another birthday together, or indeed whether I should ever see you again at all. But now, here we both are, and tonight we shall think of nothing more than food and drink and merriment."

He leaned closer and smiled.

"Frodo, tonight is your night to celebrate. Never regret that you came through it all, and lived to tell the tale. You have a right to be proud."

And they celebrated far into the night, and had Sam and Merry and Pippin in to enjoy the great cake and mulled cider along with them.

-the end-