My dearest namesake, Frodo,

Forgive my conceit at calling you by a nickname. My father also calls me by that name, so I have fond memories of its sound. I deliberately mix up the verbs, since I am looking at him as I gaze into the little mirror on my chest of drawers. He smiles, holds out his arms, and calls my name: Frodo-lad. Yes, Father. I’m coming. I shant be long. And there I am also, in the mirror. Only this time I am pressing my cheek to your mother’s belly, softly talking to you even as you sleep in her womb. Frodo-lad. Frodo. Big brother Fro. Forgive me. I am getting the two of us mixed up.

You will inherit Bag End upon your father’s leaving. Not his death – his leaving. For I can see that Samwise will one day join me across the Sea in the Blessed Realm. Eventually we will die there, but for awhile he will also experience a time of healing and rest before we leave to met your mother. What truly awaits us after death, not even the Elves or the Maia know. But this is what I believe will happen.

It is a joy to me to know that you and your family will stay in Bag End. For your love of family and place well suites being Master of this grand old Smial. Hold fast to its beauty. I know you will keep it and all its inhabitants as well-tended as its legendary gardens. And if you need a new water source, try digging down the hill slightly South of the current pump’s location.

Your gift is also inside the wooden chest at the foot of my bed. I really should not say “my bed” as it is now part of your property. However, I cannot conceive of this room as being anything other than my room until your own son inherits the smial and chooses to use the room for other purposes.

Keep the documents as your heritage from me to my namesake. They are the proof you might need later on. In any case, they are interesting in and of themselves. My own Uncle Bilbo Baggins always desired for a Baggins to occupy Bag End. Whilst your last name may not be Baggins, your heart and heritage are, as will be your son’s and his son’s. Beyond this, the visions turn grey and I can only guess without certainty.

With love,
Uncle Frodo

Daisy reopened the chest and peered inside. “Fro, I think you’re going to have to help Penny and me with these.”

“What do you mean?” Frodo asked, refolding the letter and carefully inserting it back inside its original envelope.

“There’s three items here addressed to you,” Primrose said, pulling out a rectangular box gift wrapped in maroon paper and tied with a gold ribbon matching the one used for Elanor’s gift. She handed the first box to her brother. Another like unto it she handed to Daisy, and the third one in quite different wrapping paper she kept for herself.

Frodo tore open the wrapping paper and opened up the box. Inside was a beautifully gilt-leafed framed document. “What’s it say, Frodo?” Pippin asked.

“Oh my!” Frodo exclaimed. “It’s the original deed to Bag End given from Bilbo Baggins to Frodo Baggins! It has all the original seals and the seven signatures and everything! Look. That’s Mayor Will Whitfoot’s signature. And here’s Grandpa Gaffer’s thumbprint and X’s. He was a witness. Wow!”

The children gathered around to see such a historical document. Bilbo Baggins. Frodo Baggins. Hamfast Gamgee. The Honorable Mayor Will Whitfoot of Hobbiton. Thain Paladin II of Tookborough. Master Rorimac Brandybuck of Brandy Hall. And Widow Rumble of Number Two Bag Shot Row. All the signatures.

“Well, I’ll be!” exclaimed Faramir. “It’s Grandpa Paladin’s handwriting, all right. Gee. I used to sit on his knees and play with the little gold braces chain he wore.” Goldilocks smiled and hugged her husband.

Primrose handed Frodo the second box. This box was decorated differently from the other two. “Looks like Dad had a hand in this one,” she said. “That’s his handwriting; not Uncle Frodo’s.”

Frodo opened the box. Inside was another framed document.

“It’s the second deed,” Frodo happily exclaimed. “This one’s from Frodo Baggins to his heir, Samwise Gamgee. Wow! Dad never showed me this. I knew he had it somewhere in the smial, but I couldn’t find the deed to Bag End. I found the Rights-of-Inheritance papers in his study, but … Wow! This is wonderful!”

“Look, Pip, that’s Grandpa Cotton’s signature,” Robin said. “And Fredigar Bolger. He was the Hobbiton Shiriff and one of Dad’s good friends.”

“Hey! Pass me one of those,” Ruby called from her chair. Robin took the second deed over to his sister while Frodo opened the last box.

“Another deed!” he exclaimed. “You’re never going to believe this one! It’s from Bungo Baggins to Bilbo Baggins. My goodness! Just think how old this is!”

“Whose signature is that down at the bottom right?” Merry squinted to get a good look at the long, looping writing. “Gandall? There’s no place name or honorific or even a last name. Who was Gandall?”

“Here, let me see,” Hamfast pulled a small reading magnifier out of his coat pocket. “That’s not a double ‘l’ at the end. It’s an ‘lf’. Gandalf. The wizard? We have the signature of Gandalf the White?”

“Gandalf the Grey he was known back then,” Ruby said. “Quite a treasure you have there, Frodo.”

Frodo smiled. “I know just where to hang them. Over the great mantle in the living room.”

“Why do you think Uncle Frodo mentioned moving the water well in his letter?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Frodo said, “but I’m going to take his advice should we ever need it.”