by shirebound
"Has Frodo had any lingering effects from the illness, Bilbo?" he asked quietly.
"He has indeed," said Bilbo, spreading out one of the blankets. "He's acquired a voracious appetite for any and all information about Rangers."
Aragorn smiled with relief.
"That boy is sucking me dry of everything I've ever known, or heard, or imagined," Bilbo continued with a grin.
"That water's really cold!" announced Frodo when he and Sam returned.
"It is," agreed Aragorn, "and tomorrow, I'll show you why."
After the campsite was set up, and the pony was enjoying the sweet grass, the four friends settled down to a feast of Aragorn's roasted meats and an endless array of delicious foods pulled from the seemingly bottomless baskets.
Frodo filled Aragorn in on everything that had happened that summer. Throughout the meal, Bilbo noticed with amusement that every time Frodo got up for any reason, he somehow ended up sitting down closer and closer to Aragorn, until finally he was right next to him.
"Frodo," said Aragorn at last, "I don't think you should sit so close…"
Frodo looked up at Aragorn, stricken, and started to get up.
"…not until we've had a proper hug." With that, the Ranger spread his arms wide, and Frodo fell into them with a happy sigh. He didn't know why, but being around Aragorn made him feel safe --- as safe as he felt with Bilbo.
"So how were the Baggins birthdays? You're 23 now, Frodo?" Aragorn winked at Bilbo. "And your uncle, he's now 1000?"
Frodo laughed, plopping down again next to Aragorn.
"He says he feels 1000 since I came to stay," said Frodo, "but you don't look any older than 500, Bilbo."
"Estel, I may leave him out here in the wild with you, permanently," said Bilbo with a sigh. "This youngster shows me no respect."
"It was the best party," Sam piped up. "Mr. Bilbo made a map that showed where he had buried all kinds of toys an' treasure."