“Mr. Frodo?”
Frodo stood still, unable to move or speak. Only one person ever had called him that – Sam. Sam approached him and embraced him. Frodo returned the hug. “Hullo, Sam,” he said finally. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”
Sam backed away and looked his master over. “Time has dealt well with you, Mr. Frodo.”
“And with you. What are you doing here?”
“Why it’s your birthday, sir.”
“What about Rosie and your children?”
For a moment there was a glimmer of sadness in Sam’s eyes before he spoke. “Rosie died, and I left. Elanor now has the Red Book. The children cried so, but they will go on. They do not have so much to bear as I have had and still have.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I hope you find what you are looking for here.”
“I already have. I am happy wherever you are, Mr. Frodo.”
“I am glad to hear that. Now, have a seat. We can catch up over tea and cake.” Sam took a seat, and smiling Frodo poured more tea and served Sam a piece of cake, taking a seat afterward.
“Thank you, Mr. Frodo.”
“You’re welcome, Samwise.”
“Err – Frodo-lad, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Bilbo broke in.
“And that is?”
“Do you ever regret leaving the Shire so much earlier than I did?”
“No, uncle. I missed Sam and Merry and Pippin, but I was with you, and I was happy.”
“I am glad to have a cousin like you, Frodo.”
“As am I.”
“Well, let’s drink t’ your health, Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo, sirs,” Sam said awkwardly.
The three clinked their cups together in agreement and laughed, knowing the remarkable Baggins health needed no such thing.