5. A Nephew's Stubbornness

12 May 1380 S.R.

The next morning after second breakfast, Primula packed a basketful of sandwiches, fresh mushrooms, and cherry tarts. Today, the family would be sharing elevensies as well as lunch by the Brandywine River. It only took a few minutes for them to walk outside of Brandy Hall, and for Primula to set up a comfortable spot for them underneath an oak tree.

As she sat down on the blanket, she began to unload the food from the basket. She glanced up every now and again to watch Frodo, Drogo, and Bilbo toss a medium sized ball back and forth. She smiled as she knew that for as long as he was visiting, Bilbo's time would be either monopolized by Drogo or Frodo as both adored the older cousin they both called "uncle".

After arranging the food, Primula sat back on the blanket, not calling her family to the meal yet as to allow them time to play and enjoy one another's company. About fifteen minutes into the game, Frodo had thrown the ball past Drogo, and just turned his back to retrieve it, Frodo charged his father, latching on to his father's waist.

Drogo managed to retrieve the ball from the river reeds where it had rolled to, tossing it back to Bilbo before he turned to tickle his son whose attachment by now had slid down to Drogo's legs. Frodo howled with laughter as he fell completely to the ground, his father kneeling beside him, tickling him in an almost frenzy.

'Do you surrender, my little scamp?' Drogo asked, laughing himself.

Tears rolled down his face and his face turned red from laughter but Frodo refused to surrender. 'N...nnnn...NO!'

Drogo looked up at Bilbo, 'Come, uncle, lend me a hand in getting this little scamp's surrender!'

Bilbo laughed and shook his head, "I think not, Drogo, this is one battle you'll have to win yourself.' By now, he had joined Primula on the blanket, and he was sipping on a cup still warm tea as they awaited his silly nephews' presence.

Finally Frodo could take no more of his father's tickling; "I surrender!"

With a satisfied smile, Drogo helped his son up, taking a moment to take deep breath of his own as Frodo ran towards the tree where elevensies awaited them. Drogo's pace joining them was slower than usual and when he sat down beside her, Primula gave him a worried glance.

***

Later, when Frodo and Bilbo were occupied talking down by the Brandywine, Primula noted his pale and tired Drogo still seemed. Shortly after elevensies ended, he had laid back against the oak, declining his son's invitation to the river.

Primula waited until Frodo and Bilbo were out of earshot before she spoke quietly to Drogo, who laid with his eyes closed. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes, I'm fine.' Drogo answered, opening his sea blue eyes.

'Are you sure?' Primula persisted, touching his brow.

Drogo caught her hand with his own, bringing it to his lips. 'I'm sure, Prim. Stop worrying so much.'

***

After lunch, the three adults returned home while Frodo was given approval to spend sometime with his cousins. When they returned home, Drogo went to take a nap while Primula and Bilbo settled in by the hearth. Bilbo pulled out his pipe and began to smoke while Primula worked on repairing a hole in a pair of Frodo's pants.

'Primula,' Bilbo began after a long time of silence, 'Is Drogo all right?'

Primula didn't look up as she replied, 'Of course, Bilbo. Why do you ask?'

'I don't know...it's just he seemed a bit washed out earlier after running and playing with Frodo. Now at my age, it's expected that I might be tired after playing with a hobbit-lad Frodo's age but since Drogo's so much young-'

'Drogo's fine, uncle!' Primula said, and when Bilbo looked at her skeptically she continued, 'Well it's just that I don't think he slept too well, not with the excitement of you being here and all!'

'Hmmmph...' Bilbo replied, and said not another word as he resumed smoking his pipe.

***

On the second night of their stargazing lesson, Frodo seemed more distracted and less interested in what Bilbo was telling him about. Much to everyone's surprise Drogo had slept right through the last two meals of the day, begging everyone's leave as he said he was "fatigued". And before Bilbo could say a word of concern about this to Primula, Frodo had asked if they were going to continue with their stargazing lesson.

'Frodo,' Bilbo said finally sitting up, 'Is something bothering you, my boy? I ask because you're not paying all that much attention to what I am saying at all.'

Frodo looked up at him, "Sorry, uncle.'

Bilbo's eyes widened with concern as it was apparent something was bothering the child. 'Frodo, is something troubling you, lad?' He waited for Frodo to answer and when he got none he said, 'It's all right, Frodo, you can tell me if something's wrong. You can trust your old uncle.'

Tears were in Frodo's eyes as he spoke, 'Uncle, I'm worried about Daddy. Lately he doesn't seem like himself.'

'Can you give me some examples, lad?'

'I mean like this morning when he got so tired after he chased and tickled me, I got scared when I saw how he looked,' Frodo said. 'Uncle Bilbo, Daddy looked like a sheet on my bed!'

Bilbo nodded, 'Anything else?'

Frodo nodded. 'The night before you arrived, I was in bed and I heard Mama and Daddy talking. They were talking about the cut on his hand and Mama said something about how the cut should have healed weeks ago!' Bilbo was silent as he thought for a moment before he spoke, thinking of a coarse of action to take.

'Frodo, if you'll go onto to bed when we head inside, I'll talk to your father about going to see a healer first thing in the morning.'

'All right, uncle,' Frodo promised.

'That's a good, lad. Now help me up from here.'

***

13 May 1380 S.R.

The next morning before Frodo had made his appearance, Bilbo asked if he could have the attention of Drogo and Primula for a moment. Wondering what the older hobbit wanted, they sat down at the table with him, locking hands on the table's surface as they waited for him to speak.

Sighing Bilbo began; noting that Drogo's bandaged hand was hidden. 'I hate to be discussing anything serious so early in my visit but Drogo, Primula, it's come to my attention that one of you might be seriously ill.'

'Uncle, neither of us is ill,' Drogo replied.

'Oh really?' Bilbo said, arching an eyebrow, Well, Drogo, my boy - it's also been brought to my attention that you've got a cut that refuses to heal and that you're refusing to go see a healer about it.'

Drogo looked at his wife, 'You promised you wouldn't bring this up while Bilbo was here!'

'It wasn't Primula who brought this to my attention, nephew. It was Frodo,' Bilbo said, 'And before you think of asking how the lad knew something was wrong, Frodo told me last night that he overheard you both talking about this the eve of my arrival while he was in bed.'

An annoyed look crossed Drogo's face. 'I think I shall have a talk with Frodo about eavesdropping on other people's conversations.'

'Now, Drogo, before you go getting all upset with the lad, just remember he was in bed at the time he heard you talking. He told me he couldn't sleep that night. Drogo, he's worried about you, especially since he saw how tired you got yesterday. If you won't go see the healer for me, or Primula, or yourself, then go for the sake of your son's peace of mind,' Bilbo said.

Drogo sighed, his gaze dropping to the bandage on his hand, 'All right, I'll go see Dr. Gentlewinter today after luncheon. I promise.'

At that moment, Frodo ran into the room and running straight for Drogo, he hugged his father's neck. 'Thank you, Daddy!'

Drogo smiled, "You're welcome, son!'