A/N: And thus we enter the first part of the flashback story: what Frodo is remembering as he keeps watch over Pippin. This is twenty years prior to the last chapter.

Setting: Hobbiton, midsummer, 1401. Frodo is nearly 33 and will inherit Bag End along with the One Ring in just over a month. Bilbo is nearly 111 and will have his famous party and leave the Shire forever in just over a month as well. Merry is 19. Sam is 21. Pippin has just recently turned 11.

A Birthday, A Cold, A Memory and a Gift: Chapter 3 (A Memory)

In the summer of 1401, Paladin Took paid a visit to Bag End. Frodo remembered it clearly, for he had been the one to answer the door and had found himself terrified when he saw who it was. His young cousin Pippin had been gravely ill for several months and only two weeks earlier had word been sent that he was well again…and now Frodo feared that perhaps that news had been too hasty.

"Good afternoon, Frodo." Paladin said formally.

"G-good afternoon, sir." Frodo studied the Took’s expression carefully, looking for signs of a terrible tragedy, but there was nothing, save for the same gloomy, tired expression that all the Tooks had been wearing for months that told of sad difficulties facing one of their own.

"Is Bilbo about?" Paladin asked, setting aside his pack and his walking stick, "I should like to speak with him if he is."

"Yes, he’s just in the study. If you go to him there, I shall make some tea and bring it to you."

"Good lad, a good lad," Paladin murmured absently, patting Frodo on the shoulder as he started in the direction of the study. Then he paused and returned to his pack.

"I nearly forgot," he said, taking out a small package and handing it to Frodo, "Pippin sent this for you."

Frodo felt relief wash through his body as he accepted the item, a book about dragons he had sent for Pippin to read during his recovery when he was ordered not to leave his bed.

"He says he has had quite enough of books and bed," Paladin shook his head, smiling blearily, "and is ready to be out and about again. He says to tell you thank you but he should prefer to see some real dragons soon rather than just the book sort."

Frodo could do nothing but smile. He tucked the book carefully under his arm and headed to the kitchen to make tea.

~~~~

Paladin and Bilbo stayed in the study, talking quietly for some time. Frodo brought the tea, of course, twice, but after he had set the tray upon the table between his two elders, he was not asked to stay, so of course he could find out little of what they were discussing. All he had time to take note of were their expressions, and queer ones they were. Paladin seemed apologetic and poor old Bilbo looked positively puzzled.

Frodo wondered for a bit if the Took had come to borrow money from Bilbo. Often times when apologetic-looking hobbits came around to Bag End to meet privately with him, that was what it was about, and Frodo knew that good-hearted Bilbo almost never refused any of them. But that scenario did not make sense when applied to this case. Surely the Tooks were not a Shire family that had ever wanted for money, and even if that was the case, what could possibly have left Bilbo looking so confused?

When Frodo had knocked tentatively to see if they should like their tea refreshed a third time, he was surprised to see Paladin step out into the hall and make way for the front entry.

"Are you leaving so soon?" He couldn’t help but ask.

"Yes, I must be back to Tookland in time for supper, I’m afraid."

"Oh." Frodo hurried then to be helpful and aid the Took with putting on his traveling pack. "Will you tell Pippin then, for me, that as soon as he is feeling up to it I should like to see him again and then I can teach him to tie a proper four-square knot? He’s been after to me to for ever so long."

Paladin smiled and again patted Frodo on the shoulder. "I will indeed."

He bid his farewells to them then, giving Bilbo a stiff hug and Frodo a firm handshake. Together they watched him walk down the path until he had disappeared from sight.

When he had gone, Frodo turned to Bilbo. "I know it’s not my business, Uncle, but could you tell me even just a bit of what that was abou…"

Bilbo silenced him with a raised palm. "It is your business, Frodo, I’m afraid, and you will know all there is to know, but let us have a proper fill first. Paladin absolutely refused to stay for a meal, but my stomach is empty as a bucket with a hole."

Frodo nodded and followed Bilbo into the kitchen, where the two began to prepare a meal together, helping each other with all aspects, as was their habit and the way they liked it.

And after they had had a bit of a fill, Bilbo gave Frodo a look that told him he was ready now to answer all questions.

"It has something to do with Pippin, doesn’t it?"

Bilbo nodded. "It has everything to do with him. Though I doubt there’s been much on the Tooks’ minds other than the lad since he first took ill. Dreadful thing it must be, to nearly lose one like that…" Bilbo drifted off in his thoughts, as he had become more and more inclined to these days.

Frodo sometimes wondered if the old hobbit ever regretted not having his own children. He was fond of many of his young relations, Frodo and Pippin included, and he often said that Frodo was far better than any son to him, but still, Frodo couldn’t help but think about it.

And at the same moment that Frodo was puzzling whether Bilbo felt regretful about never having had any "proper" children of his own, Bilbo was feeling grateful that he hadn’t. He felt it must be nearly unbearable to go through an experience like the Tooks had. Better just to avoid the situation all together, he thought. No one to worry about but yourself.

He reconsidered that immediately, though. He hadn’t avoided the situation all together, actually. After all, he had Frodo. And certainly he was quite attached to the boy and loved him very much. This fact grew more apparent to him every day, especially as the time approached when he knew he was to leave.

He had tried to lessen the feeling by allowing Frodo to participate in his plans, to make him more of a partner in crime than a son left behind…but every day that passed, Bilbo grew more worried about what might happen to "his" lad once he had gone away. He knew inside himself that he must go, that it would be no good to stay and be unhappy, but those worries remained nevertheless present in his heart.

"So what about him?" Frodo asked suddenly, desperate to interrupt Bilbo’s thoughts and remove the frightfully sad look that was sitting upon his face. "Is Pip all right?"

Bilbo startled a little, but masked it by reaching just then for the tea. "Yes, yes," he said and nodded absently. "He’s quite all right. Recovering faster than I think anyone could have expected. That’s the magic of being young, I suppose, and a Took. My mother was the same way, down one day and up the next."

Frodo nodded but couldn’t help but feel impatient. He handed Bilbo the honey pot and then waited for him to go on.

"Anyway, he’s missed his birthday, it seems."

Frodo had forgotten about this. Pippin’s birthday had been a few weeks ago, but no one’s minds had been on birthdays then. It had gone all together unmentioned, as far as he was aware.

"And now he’s asked if he can have…well, a late celebration."

"That would be nice, once he’s up to parties again." Frodo popped a piece of seed cake between his lips thoughtfully.

"Now…he doesn’t want a…regular party, I guess. He’s asked, well, he’s asked to have a special kind of celebration if I can give it to him."

"But, Bilbo, what could you possibly give Pippin that he couldn’t find at Tookland?"

"He’s asked to go ‘adventuring’ with me."

Once Frodo had stopped laughing, he realized that Bilbo was quite serious. "That’s what Uncle Paladin came to talk with you about, isn’t it? But how are you supposed to take him adventuring? Where can you possibly go? An excavation through the kitchens at Great Smials? Is he even well enough for a visit?"

"Paladin says he’s running about again as though he was never anything but well in the first place."

"But, still…even if he does come, what sort of an adventure could you take him on?"

"I said the same to Paladin. I would not dare to take a lad like that anywhere outside the Shire and I couldn’t see any Took in their right mind allowing me to. But Paladin said he has talked to Peregrin about reasonable requests and it seems he would be just as happy to merely spend a night with myself and a campfire listening to plain old stories of adventures."

Frodo smiled then, understanding. "They’re not just plain old stories with you, Uncle. I’m not surprised one spot that he’d rather camp with you than have a party. He nearly worships you. Your Took side, anyway," Frodo laughed, "he doesn’t think much of the Baggins, I fear."

Bilbo seemed surprised at this and he still looked uneasy. "Do you think we can handle this, Frodo?"

"Certainly if it’s just one night. We can hike out to that pretty dell I was fond of when I was younger. And it’s still plenty warm in the evenings. We can keep an eye on him, make sure that he stays well."

"Good," Bilbo nodded, then smiled somewhat bemused at Frodo, "For he arrives tomorrow."

~~~~

The next afternoon the bell clanged at the door and Frodo was pleased when he answered it to see that Pippin had taken their cousin Merry for accompaniment. He knew that Paladin would not let the lad travel alone and was relieved that it was Merry who had come with and not the Thain himself.

"Hello, Frodo!" the two said in unison, as if they had been practicing it.

Frodo laughed. "Hello yourselves. It’s good to see you."

He lead them into the hall and took Merry’s traveling cloak from him. Before he thought to reach for Pippin’s, though, the little Took moved away and wandered past him into the sitting room.

Frodo watched him as Merry followed and tried to figure out what looked so odd about him. Then he realized that Pippin had had his hood up although it was not the slightest bit overcast and was still, in fact, walking about with it pulled firmly over his head, nearly obscuring his face. Frodo shook his head as he hung up Merry’s cloak and then entered himself into the room where the two cousins were waiting.

"Why do you have your hood up, Pip? It’s perfectly sunny, and anyway, we’re indoors."

Merry gave Frodo a warning look, but he didn’t have time to decipher the meaning before Pippin had very cautiously lowered his hood.

The room became silent enough then to hear the summer bugs buzzing outside. Pippin fixed his gaze hard at the floor and Frodo bit his lip.

He’d forgotten that Pippin’s head had been shaved. At the height of his fever, it had been a last attempt to give him some relief. It was said that Pippin’s mother and sisters had wept when it was done and Frodo could understand why. Pippin had always had such lovely curls, rare in that they were nearly blonde, which lead many to bring up again the old legend of a fairy wife having been taken in the Took line at some point. Silliness, of course, but still, it was agreed that young Peregrin, for as much as a mischief-maker he had become, was undeniably a beautiful child.

And he was still beautiful, Frodo thought resolutely, those fine features still in-tact: the clever line of his mouth, his sharp Took nose, his large green eyes…but they looked wearied and incredibly vulnerable without the familiar frame of curls.

Indeed, he looked all together fragile. It was not a common thing to see a hobbit with no hair. They are born with a curly mop and die with mostly the same curly mop and though they may gray, they seldom have occasion to become bald in-between.

"Well then," Frodo began, knowing he had to say something to the lad whose lower lip had begun to tremble noticeably, "It’s certainly growing back fast enough, isn’t it?"

He stepped forward and gently touched the soft fuzz that had begun to grow.

Pippin nodded but still looked miserable. It was then that Bilbo came in. He froze at the doorway, catching sight of the oddly naked-looking little hobbit.

"Oh," he said.

Then, moving forward, he continued, a smile of wonder on his face. "Oh, yes. They’ve cut it all off, now haven’t they? Lucky thing they did, too. I hear your fever finally broke not long after."

Pippin nodded. He had been on the verge of tears but now he was distracted as Bilbo came near him and began to inspect the job. He couldn’t understand why the old hobbit wore such an expression on his face. It was almost as if he were admiring.

"Yes, this is lovely. Looks like you got a present for your own birthday, ah?"

Pippin frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Well, it could grow back lots of different ways, now. Not often one of us gets another chance at how we get to look. If you concentrate hard enough, you might even be able to change the color. A nice black might suit you, I should think."

Pippin’s face lit up. "Green!"

Bilbo nodded. "Yes, that would go nicely with your eyes, now wouldn’t it?" He turned then, noticing Merry for the first time. "Ah, and I see you’ve brought a friend. Good to see you, Meriadoc. The more the merrier, they do say." He laughed at his own joke.

Merry started to greet him as Frodo looked on at his dear uncle with utter admiration, but they were interrupted by a sudden and rather unceremonious rapping at the front door.

"Goodness!" Bilbo muttered, becoming flustered as he often did when there were more things going on than he had reasonably planned for, "I’ve just had the bell tuned and the door re-painted, who on Middle-Earth goes on knocking like that…" his voice faded as he disappeared to go answer the insistent call.

Pippin turned to Merry and Frodo the second Bilbo was gone. "Do you really think I can make my hair turn green?" he gasped.

Frodo and Merry looked uncertainly at each other. Finally, Merry shrugged. "My father does often say that you can do anything so long as you put your mind to it."

The rest of the quote was actually ‘and so long as you don’t go chasing after things you know you can’t be having anyway ,’ but Merry chose not to include that part.

Just then, Bilbo returned. He stood hesitantly in the doorway, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Well," he said, "It, ah, well, it looks as though I’ll be bringing a friend to our little party, too."

But the three lads were not paying any attention to Bilbo. All eyes were focused instead on the wizard that was standing behind him.

~~~~

Frodo never found out how it was exactly that Bilbo convinced Gandalf, who had been planning to stop by on his way elsewhere only to check up on Bilbo’s most recent plans, to stay and join them for Pippin’s little party. Or perhaps it had been Gandalf who had convinced Bilbo to let him join them…Either way, Frodo was grateful to both of them, whoever made the decision, for if there was anyone that Little Pippin Took was more fascinated with than Bilbo Baggins, it was the wizard Gandalf.

Indeed, this became quite obvious, for as Frodo and Merry managed polite and proper greetings to the wizard, Pippin remained frozen, eyes glued to the big person in the funny hat. He had met Gandalf briefly when he was much younger, but he could not recall much of the meeting and so the wizard had remained entrenched in that area of legend in his mind.

Normally what the locals referred to as a ‘regular chattering little squirrel,’ the Took now found that could not make a single sound pass over his lips, nor move his eyes, though he realized at some point that he had passed into near-rudeness.

Gandalf moved forward then, bending slightly, and smiled at the hobbit lad.

"I hear that you are having a celebration today."

Pippin found, to his embarrassment, that he was shaking in fright. He gripped his hands to his forearms to stop such nonsense and managed to squeak out: "It’s my birthday party."

"Can you forgive my rudeness for dropping by in the midst of such an occasion unannounced?"

Merry nearly fainted at the sound of the great and famous wizard asking forgiveness of his silly little cousin. But Frodo only smiled.

Pippin blinked then and seemed to have been broken of his intimidation.

"You may come with if you like. We’re going to camp. It shall be very exciting."

Gandalf rose and rested one hand on the hobbit’s tiny shoulder.

"I would like that very much."

Then as Frodo was admiring the workings of the scene before him, he was struck with an idea.

"Hey, Pippin. Since you’ve brought a friend and now Bilbo’s brought a friend, do you think I could invite one too?"

Pippin frowned, dismayed at how quickly his carefully thought-out party plans were being altered, even if the results were seeming to be quite good.

"That depends," he said, "who is it you want to bring?"

"Why Samwise, silly." Frodo grinned. "Does he not meet your approval?"

"Oh, Sam," Pippin laughed. "He’s all right. Bring him along, then. But then that is enough for this is my Private Party." He said those last two words with the pomposity and pride that only an 11-year-old Took can carry off.

Frodo put on his most solemn expression to mask the laughter threatening to break through and left them then, to see if he could find young Sam and convince him to join in the future Thain’s very exclusive celebration.

~~~~

Sam Gamgee was flattered to be asked along on the "adventure party" by Frodo but at the same time very hesitant. For many reasons.

"Surely it’s not my place, Mister Frodo."

"Nonsense, Sam! It’s a birthday party for my eleven year old cousin!"

"Certainly, sir, but your eleven year old cousin is the son of Paladin Took."

Frodo heaved a great sigh. "Yes, Sam, he is the son of Paladin Took and the son of Paladin Took has invited to son of Drogo Baggins and has said that the son of Drogo Baggins may take along a friend as well and that the son of Hamfast Gamgee is the only friend of the son of Drogo Baggins that the son of Paladin Took rightly approves of. Now will you come?"

Though Sam was not fully convinced by this statement, his mind moved on to the second leg of his argument.

"But is he even well enough to be out and about like this? Sleeping outdoors at night?"

This was the matter most worrisome to Sam’s heart. He knew possibly even more than Frodo just how close a call the Tooks had had that summer. He had been there in the carpenter’s shop hardly a month before—Sam had gone to order a new wheel barrow—and his eyes had caught sight of something special behind the counter. Now, while Sam Gamgee had always preferred trees to be living, he couldn’t help but admire a fine wood when it was put to good use and he couldn’t help his eyes from drifting over to that lovely pile of oak. His curiosity got the better of him. ‘Now what are you making out of that?’ he had asked. And the carpenter’s face had gone gray. ‘That’ll likely be a casket.’ ‘Such a fine nice wood for a casket,’ Sam had murmured, not to be gossipy, but only thinking out loud, ‘Must be an important hobbit, gets a wood like that.’ Then the carpenter had leaned across the counter and whispered roughly, as if it were a secret it was paining him to keep: ‘It’s that little Took lad. You didn’t hear that from me, but I be telling you, that there is the only order I ever find myself hoping gets canceled.’ Sam had left the shop rather shaken that afternoon and had never been more relieved than when he returned a few days later and found out that the order had indeed been canceled.

"Sam! Have you heard a word I’ve been saying to you?"

Sam was startled out of his chilling memory to find Frodo looking at him anxiously.

"I’m, I’m sorry Mister Frodo," he stammered, "What, what was it you were sayin’?"

Frodo smiled. "I was saying, my dear Gamgee, that Pippin is quite recovered, if impatience is any gauge. He should very much like you to come along, but only if you do so quickly. Now please come."

Sam found himself blushing as he gave in. "All right, then, all right. Just let me get my pack."

~~~~

And so, as the saying goes, the small company was soon off like a herd of turtles.