“Happy eleventy-first birthday, my boy,” Bilbo said while carrying in a tray of tea and a small sponge cake.

“Thank you, Uncle Bilbo, but how do we know exactly how long it’s been since we came here?” replied Frodo with a curious smile.

Bilbo looked about and listened before shutting the door.
“I don’t want any keen elf ears to overhear.” Frodo made a confused face. Bilbo ignored it and went on, “I know the elves aren’t keen on having calendars about, Frodo-lad, but I made some before we left and brought them with me. I figured we would want to remember some birthdays, and I’ve been keeping track each day.” Bilbo pulled back his coat and revealed a bundle of papers.

“I see now,” Frodo commented with a smile. “Well, 179 years. Who would have imagined? You’ve beat the Old Took’s record by many years.”

“Aye, by many a year indeed.”

Frodo poured them some tea and cut a couple of pieces off of the sponge cake. “I wish I had something to give you, and I would have had I been so clever as to keep a calendar, but I did not so I do not have anything.”

“That is quite alright. Your presence with me is quite enough.”

“I am glad to have you here as well. Where is Gandalf?” Frodo inquired.

“Oh, he doesn’t know of the calendars, but he’s probably seen me being busy and cheerful today and thought it odd, but he probably passed it off as an oddity of a hobbit. He thinks us odd, you know.”

“Yes, I know, just as we think him and the elves a bit odd.” Frodo took a bite of sponge cake.

“Listen, my boy, I heard a ship a-” A loud tapping noise sounded. “Now, I wonder who that could be,” Bilbo said while standing and walking to the door. “Why, Gandalf, hello! To what do I owe this visit?” Bilbo greeted. “Come in; come in. Frodo and I were just having tea some cake.”

Gandalf stood in the doorway. “No, I shall not come in. I have come to deliver a guest to Frodo.”

“For me?” Frodo asked, standing up.

“Yes, you may recognize him,” replied Gandalf with an emotionless face. He turned and left after saying, “My task is complete. Good evening.”
“Good evening,” Bilbo answered, letting someone in and closing the door.

“Mr. Frodo?”

Frodo stood still, unable to move or speak. Only one person ever had called him that – Sam. Sam approached him and embraced him. Frodo returned the hug. “Hullo, Sam,” he said finally. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

Sam backed away and looked his master over. “Time has dealt well with you, Mr. Frodo.”

“And with you. What are you doing here?”

“Why it’s your birthday, sir.”

“What about Rosie and your children?”

For a moment there was a glimmer of sadness in Sam’s eyes before he spoke. “Rosie died, and I left. Elanor now has the Red Book. The children cried so, but they will go on. They do not have so much to bear as I have had and still have.”

“I am sorry to hear that. I hope you find what you are looking for here.”

“I already have. I am happy wherever you are, Mr. Frodo.”

“I am glad to hear that. Now, have a seat. We can catch up over tea and cake.” Sam took a seat, and smiling Frodo poured more tea and served Sam a piece of cake, taking a seat afterward.

“Thank you, Mr. Frodo.”

“You’re welcome, Samwise.”

“Err – Frodo-lad, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Bilbo broke in.

“And that is?”

“Do you ever regret leaving the Shire so much earlier than I did?”

“No, uncle. I missed Sam and Merry and Pippin, but I was with you, and I was happy.”

“I am glad to have a cousin like you, Frodo.”

“As am I.”

“Well, let’s drink t’ your health, Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo, sirs,” Sam said awkwardly.

The three clinked their cups together in agreement and laughed, knowing the remarkable Baggins health needed no such thing.

A/N: Don’t forget to review.