Let me be honest.
Yes, your belly-button is rather adorable, and well, although I can’t see myself sucking on them: you have cute toes. Don’t get me wrong, Frodo. I have got a girlfriend now, her name is Diamond, and her eyes are sparkling like that, too.
I mean, I am not interested in your navel or toes at all.
But during your long unconsciousness Gandalf trusted me with the task of bathing you. It was an odd thing to do.
As far as I could remember, it had been you who had bathed me when I was ill with chickenpox.
It had been you who had pulled me out of freezing cold Brandywine after my demonstration of my then non-existent swimming skills.
On one dark evening, somewhere between Weathertop and Rivendell, you had sung me to sleep, although you already – or still – were in terrible pain; I could tell from the way you kept screwing up your face.
And now I had you there, and you looked so small and fragile, and barely recognisable.
But your navel is sweet indeed.
Oh.
Oh sorry, Frodo.
I did not want to write this. I’m half-expecting to turn into something green and slimy now, and only half-calmed by the fact that Gandalf has left this world for good, just like you.
Once I overheard you worrying about having murdered the child in me by allowing me to follow you when we set out for the Quest.
Please! I would have come with you anyway, and you know that. And as you see, some things have not changed; the child in me is way too alive and makes me write things I promised to keep secret.
I am sorry.
This is supposed to be your birthday letter.
So. No more talking about your belly-button.
It’s hard, you know. Writing a letter to someone, who will never read it. I don’t even know whether you are still alive or not. Sam is so sure that he will see you again. He never talks about it, but we all know.
Merry and I will never sail into the west, though, and we will most likely never see you again.
Does time matter where you have gone?
Here, it is your fifty-fifth birthday now, Bilbo’s 133rd!
I wish you a very happy birthday, Frodo.
If there is something we have learned on our journey, than it is that there is always hope. I will see you again and then I will give you your birthday greetings personally. There will be no need for more childish letters.