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Frodo was staring at the puddles left by the recent rain. Bilbo could see the half smile upon his beloved kinsman’s face. He’d often seen that half smile when Frodo was younger, but had seen nothing of it when he’d returned to Rivendell from Gondor or during the ride from the Shire to Mithlond.
Suddenly a small flock of birds alit around the nearest puddle, chirping and crowding together, dipping their beaks to drink, and bathing in it.
Frodo laughed merrily for the first time since they’d sailed West, and Bilbo smiled. His own dear lad was healing at last!
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