22 September 1389

"Frodo B!" Merry screamed as he pounced on his still sleeping cousin. Frodo only groaned and rolled over.

"Merry! It’s my birthday! Let me sleep in, will you?"

"Awww, Frodo. You already sleeped in enough! It’s time to wake up!" Merry bounced up and down. Frodo reached out from his cocoon of blankets and shoved Merry off the bed.

Merry was surprised, but then decided that Frodo wanted to wrestle. Merry pounced on the unsuspecting Frodo and pulled his elder cousin off the bed.

"That’s it, you rascal!" Frodo stood and started pounding Merry with his pillow. At first, Frodo really was mad, but then he softened and decided that since he was up, he might as well comply with his cousin’s demands. Merry squealed in glee and reached for a pillow, beginning a counter attack. The battle was on, until Bilbo poked his head in the door and said,

"If you lads are finished having at each other, breakfast is ready!"

Frodo and Merry whooped in excitement. "Beat you, Frodo!" Merry caroled.

"Ha! I don’t think so!" Frodo let Merry win, and pretended that his younger cousin really was faster. "My goodness! You’ve not only grown taller, but you’ve grown faster, too!"

Merry sat down in triumph. Helping himself to the plate his mother set before him. "Thag oo, mum." He said around a mouth packed with eggs.

"Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear."

He swallowed his breakfast and gulped down his milk. "Done, Mum! Can Frodo and me go play?"

Frodo looked down at his own plate. He was a fast eater, but not nearly as fast as the excited Merry. "I’m not quite done, Merry."

The younger lad sighed. "Hurry!"

"Now, Merry," Esme said, "I want you to stop pestering Frodo. Why don’t you go get ready. We’re going into town today."

"When we going?"

"Right after we get breakfast cleaned up."

"Can me and Frodo pway before we weave?"

"There won’t be time, son."

"Yes, m’am." Merry said sulkily. Frodo was now finished, but Bilbo and his mother were still eating. Grownups always at too slowly. And now Frodo was in the middle of a conversation with them! Merry laid his arms on the table and put his head on his arms with a great sigh. They would *never* be done.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Frodo and Merry sat in the back of the wagon while Esmeralda and Bilbo sat in the front chatting pleasantly. Merry kept up a steady stream of conversation, and Frodo tried his best to follow along. This, however, was nearly impossible. When Merry talked fast, he was not very understandable. Frodo just nodded his head and made an occasional comment.

When the wagon stopped, Frodo frowned slightly in confusion. They were stopped in front of the Ivy Bush. Why were they in front of an tavern? They climbed out of the wagon, and headed indoors. The owner of the establishment immediately ushered the group through the kitchen and out a door that led to the stables. With a bow, he went back inside.

Merry ran to the nearest pony head hanging out of a stall and started stroking the velvety nose. Frodo looked from Esme’s knowing smile, to Bilbo’s thinly suppressed mixture of excitement and nervousness. "What’s this all about?" Frodo asked shrewdly.

"Frodo-lad. I want to give you a birthday gift." Frodo raised his eyebrows. Realization dawned, but he didn’t let on that he knew. Esme led the way to the last stall in the stable. "Happy birthday, Frodo." she said.

The head of his new pony poked out of the stall door. It was the most beautiful pony Frodo had ever seen. It’s coat was a rich brown, with flowing ebony for the mane and tail. The tips of the small ears were black, as were the muzzle and legs. Warm, liquid brown eyes peered lovingly at their new master. Frodo reached out and stroked the whit star on the pony’s forehead. It was just like Da’s pony. The scent of the stables took Frodo back in time. Back when his parents lived with him in a small house in Buckland. Frodo felt that if he turned around, his Da would be standing there, smiling. He could almost hear the deep, rich voice; the pride that voice had carried when Frodo had first learned to ride, the love for his son. He could see their own small two-stall stable and his Da’s pony; he could feel the movement of the pony beneath him, and his father hanging on behind. And suddenly, all Frodo wanted was for his Da to be there. He had not let himself feel that for such a long time. It hurt, but it felt so good, too. It felt good to remember the joy he had shared with his father. How had Bilbo known that he really had missed the ponies and rides? Frodo suddenly remembered where he was. He realized he had been stroking the patient pony’s muzzle all this while. He hadn’t even said, ‘Thank you’. Frodo whirled around, face scarlet, to look at the small group waiting patiently. Merry had now joined them, and he was standing silently at his mother’s side.

"I...I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean..." Frodo stammered. On sudden impulse, Frodo rushed to his uncle and gave him a hug. "Thank you. Thank you, Uncle Bilbo." He lingered there for a moment and then pulled away. "How did you know?"

Bilbo smiled, and with his thumb, wiped the tears that Frodo didn’t even know he had shed. "Your Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda were a big help."

"Frodo-B, what are going to name..." Merry left the question unfinished. He looked to his mother to indicate the gender of the pony.

"Him. It’s a gelding*." Esmeralda said.

"So, what are you going to name him?" Merry finished.

Frodo was quiet for a moment as he went to his pony and stroked the black velvet nose.

"I think....I think I’ll call him Gil-galad."

"Gil-ga...what?"Merry asked.

"Gil-galad. It means starlight in Elvish."

"Oh. That’s a good name, Frodo B." Merry decided. "Can I ride him?"

"Now, Merry," Esmeralda said, "let Frodo ride his pony and get used to him, and then if Frodo lets you, you may."

"After I ride him, you may ride him, Merry."

Merry gave a shout of glee.

"May I ride him right now, Uncle?" Frodo asked.

"Of course, Frodo. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a saddle yet. I didn’t know what size would be the most comfortable for you, so I decided to let you help me pick it out tomorrow."

Frodo smiled. "That’s alright. I know how to ride bareback. Da made me learn that way, so I would really know how to ride, and not just know how to sit on a horse." Frodo put the bridle on his pony and led him out.

Bilbo smiled as he watched Frodo take Gil-galad to the mounting block. He could see Drogo in the lad. Frodo was a natural, as they all soon found out. Frodo’s face had the expression of sheer glee and contentment as he cantered Gil-galad around. Finally, he pulled up in front of Merry and slid to the ground without the use of the block.

"You want a try, Merry?"

Merry nodded. Frodo lifted his young cousin up. "Do you want me to lead you, or ride with you?"

"I wanna ride ‘lone." Merry said.

"No, Mer. You shouldn’t ride alone." With that, Frodo mounted behind his young cousin and they trotted in a few circles. Frodo pulled up in front of Bilbo and Esme.

"Time to go back to Bag End, Mer." Frodo said as he helped his cousin down and led Gil-galad to his stall. Frodo gave his pony a kiss on the velvety muzzle before hurrying after his uncle and Aunt.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The guests filed out one by one. Except for Aunt Esmeralda and Merry. The party had been a success. Everyone had enjoyed themselves and had loved the mathoms that Bilbo and Frodo gave them.

After Merry had fallen asleep, Frodo snuck into his uncle’s study, clutching a finely wrapped package behind his back.

"Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo began hesitantly. The old Hobbit was sitting at his desk writing furiously. Finally, he turned to face his nephew.

"What is it, lad?"

"I just wanted to thank you so much for my birthday gift, and for the most wonderful birthday I’ve ever had. And, well, today...I didn’t get to give you your birthday present, but now I don’t want to because it’s not nearly as fine as a pony." The whole time Frodo had stared at his feet as he made patterns with his toe.

Bilbo rose and brought Frodo into an embrace. "Oh, Frodo. No need to worry about that, lad. It’s not about competing about who gives the grandest gifts, it’s about giving someone something that you know they will love because you love them. No need to be ashamed. I’m sure I will love whatever you have got behind you back." He pulled away and smiled at Frodo, his brown eyes twinkling.

Frodo handed his uncle the gift. The old hobbit unwrapped a new leather pouch filled with pipeweed.

"Oh Frodo! This is lovely! Thank you so much."

Frodo smiled wanly. "You’re welcome. I just...I wish I could give you everything you ever wanted, but you already have everything."

Bilbo embraced Frodo again. "Oh, my lad. Don’t you see that you have given me the greatest gift by coming here to live with me?"

"Sam said that. But it’s good to hear it from you." Frodo whispered.

"Sam said that, did he?" Bilbo almost chuckled. "He is a very wise lad, that one. Very wise indeed. But," Bilbo held Frodo at arm’s length and feigned sternness. "It’s much past your bed time. And birthday or no, you had better get your rest!"

"Yes, Uncle. Goodnight! And happy birthday!" Frodo smiled as he walked off, yawning, to bed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

TBC...

Copyright Frodo Baggins 2006