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Mar. 1st, 2005 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Title:Too long to wait: Birthday Surprise
Ellohir is about seven.
Author: Claudia
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Rating: this part G
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything. Don’t make any money off it.
Frodo had spread the blanket on the courtyard lawn, far removed from the shadows cast by the White Tree. Frodo and Ellohir lay side by side, arms under their heads, breathing in air with that first hint of spring, fresh soil and budding green. The sun bathed them in unusual warmth for late February. They gazed at the cloud-flecked sky.
“What do you see now?” Frodo asked with a smile.
Ellohir grinned. “A horse! No – I think it’s a dragon, with fire coming out of its mouth, like Uncle Bilbo’s tales.”
Frodo laughed, although a twinge of grief sank his heart that Bilbo had never had the chance to meet Ellohir. “I see a ship – an elvish ship that rises above the sea and becomes a star.”
“The star of Earendil?” Ellohir asked eagerly.
Again, Frodo’s heart sank. Oh, that Bilbo should never know what a bright, eager lad Ellohir was and Ellohir should never enjoy long discussions with Uncle Bilbo about adventures and all things elvish and books and hobbity matters of just the right mushrooms to use for mushroom pie verses pickled mushrooms and –
“I see a sea horse!” Ellohir cried, pointing upward. Frodo followed his finger and sure enough, there was an S-shaped cloud with a coiled tail. It was shocking that Ellohir remembered what a sea horse looked like. He had been so young that long ago time when they had stayed on the beach in the Bay of Belfalas.
Frodo turned to Ellohir. “It will be Aragorn’s birthday soon. And he has been unhappy and weary as of late. I would very much like to do something special for him.”
“We’ll get presents!” Ellohir clapped.
“Yes, very probably,” Frodo said, nodding. “Aragorn is an honorary hobbit, after all. But Ellohir, let us think about him. He has worked hard lately and he has not slept well. I wish to do something for him as well.”
Ellohir sighed. Just lately, especially since his seventh birthday, Frodo could see Ellohir as he would one day be when he was grown – and it frightened him just a little. Ellohir’s face had once been round, but now his jawbone and cheekbones had formed into chiseled elegance, rather closer in resemblance to Aragorn and his Numenorean ancestors than to his Baggins side.
Ellohir said, “Perhaps we can surprise him with his favorite meal?”
Frodo smiled, and his heart felt glad that Ellohir still kept a fair number of hobbity traits. Sometimes those seemed lost, particularly when he ran home weeping because he hated being so much smaller than the other boys and hated being called halfling and he wanted to shave the hair from his feet. And of course that broke Frodo’s heart, even though he knew Ellohir did not truly mean it. Ellohir wore boots now more often than not, even though he had tough hobbit soles. Frodo longed for Ellohir to meet other hobbit children, so that he was exposed to more than the rather rough and sometimes rude sons of guards and other worthies of the Citadel.
“We should plan a journey to the Shire,” Frodo told Aragorn often. “Surely you must need to check on what is happening in that corner of your Kingdom.”
But Aragorn was never convinced Frodo’s health could withstand such along journey – and he expressed his fears that Frodo would fall ill far from a soft bed or healing herbs. But more and more, a sad, bitter part of Frodo wondered if Aragorn’s reluctance wasn’t a ruse to keep him and Ellohir away from the green hills of the Shire. Frodo often stopped such unkind thoughts before he could think too much on them. Aragorn loved him and Ellohir – and he would never purposely do anything to make them unhappy.
“Aragorn does not eat enough to feed an ant lately, much less a great man. I do not think he will welcome a surprise meal.”
“Hmmm…” Ellohir screwed up his face. “We could go back to that beach house in the Belfalas Bay.”
Frodo’s heart rose with the idea, but he knew Aragorn would not. One reason he had been so occupied during the last few weeks was that he was deep in negotiations with the Haradrim.
“No, he cannot leave the City.”
“He wants to spend time with you,” Ellohir said with sudden tenderness. “I think that would make him happy.”
Frodo could not help but smile. “Of course, he wants time with his family. But we can do nothing to give him more time.”
“I mean you. Without me.”
Frodo blushed that Ellohir should even know about such things at his age.
Ellohir continued. “You could open one of the grand guest chambers. Alia can stay with me that night.”
Frodo kissed Ellohir’s cheek. “What a wonderful idea.”
Go on to next part
Ellohir is about seven.
Author: Claudia
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Rating: this part G
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything. Don’t make any money off it.
Frodo had spread the blanket on the courtyard lawn, far removed from the shadows cast by the White Tree. Frodo and Ellohir lay side by side, arms under their heads, breathing in air with that first hint of spring, fresh soil and budding green. The sun bathed them in unusual warmth for late February. They gazed at the cloud-flecked sky.
“What do you see now?” Frodo asked with a smile.
Ellohir grinned. “A horse! No – I think it’s a dragon, with fire coming out of its mouth, like Uncle Bilbo’s tales.”
Frodo laughed, although a twinge of grief sank his heart that Bilbo had never had the chance to meet Ellohir. “I see a ship – an elvish ship that rises above the sea and becomes a star.”
“The star of Earendil?” Ellohir asked eagerly.
Again, Frodo’s heart sank. Oh, that Bilbo should never know what a bright, eager lad Ellohir was and Ellohir should never enjoy long discussions with Uncle Bilbo about adventures and all things elvish and books and hobbity matters of just the right mushrooms to use for mushroom pie verses pickled mushrooms and –
“I see a sea horse!” Ellohir cried, pointing upward. Frodo followed his finger and sure enough, there was an S-shaped cloud with a coiled tail. It was shocking that Ellohir remembered what a sea horse looked like. He had been so young that long ago time when they had stayed on the beach in the Bay of Belfalas.
Frodo turned to Ellohir. “It will be Aragorn’s birthday soon. And he has been unhappy and weary as of late. I would very much like to do something special for him.”
“We’ll get presents!” Ellohir clapped.
“Yes, very probably,” Frodo said, nodding. “Aragorn is an honorary hobbit, after all. But Ellohir, let us think about him. He has worked hard lately and he has not slept well. I wish to do something for him as well.”
Ellohir sighed. Just lately, especially since his seventh birthday, Frodo could see Ellohir as he would one day be when he was grown – and it frightened him just a little. Ellohir’s face had once been round, but now his jawbone and cheekbones had formed into chiseled elegance, rather closer in resemblance to Aragorn and his Numenorean ancestors than to his Baggins side.
Ellohir said, “Perhaps we can surprise him with his favorite meal?”
Frodo smiled, and his heart felt glad that Ellohir still kept a fair number of hobbity traits. Sometimes those seemed lost, particularly when he ran home weeping because he hated being so much smaller than the other boys and hated being called halfling and he wanted to shave the hair from his feet. And of course that broke Frodo’s heart, even though he knew Ellohir did not truly mean it. Ellohir wore boots now more often than not, even though he had tough hobbit soles. Frodo longed for Ellohir to meet other hobbit children, so that he was exposed to more than the rather rough and sometimes rude sons of guards and other worthies of the Citadel.
“We should plan a journey to the Shire,” Frodo told Aragorn often. “Surely you must need to check on what is happening in that corner of your Kingdom.”
But Aragorn was never convinced Frodo’s health could withstand such along journey – and he expressed his fears that Frodo would fall ill far from a soft bed or healing herbs. But more and more, a sad, bitter part of Frodo wondered if Aragorn’s reluctance wasn’t a ruse to keep him and Ellohir away from the green hills of the Shire. Frodo often stopped such unkind thoughts before he could think too much on them. Aragorn loved him and Ellohir – and he would never purposely do anything to make them unhappy.
“Aragorn does not eat enough to feed an ant lately, much less a great man. I do not think he will welcome a surprise meal.”
“Hmmm…” Ellohir screwed up his face. “We could go back to that beach house in the Belfalas Bay.”
Frodo’s heart rose with the idea, but he knew Aragorn would not. One reason he had been so occupied during the last few weeks was that he was deep in negotiations with the Haradrim.
“No, he cannot leave the City.”
“He wants to spend time with you,” Ellohir said with sudden tenderness. “I think that would make him happy.”
Frodo could not help but smile. “Of course, he wants time with his family. But we can do nothing to give him more time.”
“I mean you. Without me.”
Frodo blushed that Ellohir should even know about such things at his age.
Ellohir continued. “You could open one of the grand guest chambers. Alia can stay with me that night.”
Frodo kissed Ellohir’s cheek. “What a wonderful idea.”
Go on to next part