Work Text:
'Frodo-lad, one of my books has gone missing.'
That Bilbo would notice amidst the clutter in the study no longer surprised Frodo. He'd learned that while Bilbo might not subscribe to the old saying 'a place for everything and everything in its place', he could put his hands on whatever book or parchment he needed in a trice.
'What book is missing?' asked Frodo, who frequently borrowed Bilbo's books, for the old hobbit had made him free of his library.
'Volume two of that Elvish bestiary, the one concerning dragons. I wanted it for my book, don't you know. The section on dragon-lore is most useful.'
'I'm afraid I don't have it, Bilbo dear.'
'Drat! I wonder where it could have disappeared to? It's not like me to misplace my books.'
A thought occurred to Frodo. 'I'll take a look round and see if I can find it.'
Bilbo was distractedly rifling through the uneven piles of leather-bound tomes on the floor. 'Thank you, my dear boy.'
It didn't take long, in fact, for Frodo to locate the missing volume, as well as the culprit who had taken it, in the parlour. As he'd suspected, the book thief was young Samwise Gamgee, though how he'd ever managed to carry the book, which was nearly as tall and as heavy as he was, was a mystery.
Sam was seated in a high-backed chair and holding the book open, balanced on his thighs. All Frodo could see of him were his legs and his bare feet, curled up so that his big toes touched, and the top of his butterscotch curls and his small hands, gripping the edges of the heavy book.
It was a comical sight, but Frodo was not only amused but oddly touched. Sam's fascination with all things Elvish was unflagging, and though he couldn't read a word of the language, simply looking at the ornate letters seemed to satisfy some longing inside him. And of course the lavish illustrations of dragons in the bestiary would prove a potent lure to a child.
'Hallo, Sam,' Frodo said.
Sam let out a surprised cry and the book fell from his hands.
Having anticipated this reaction, for he was quite familiar with that state of utter oblivion when reading, Frodo was ready and waiting and deftly caught the book before it hit the floor.
'I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo,' Sam said, his face red with embarrassment.
'That's all right. I apologise for startling you.' He considered Sam for a moment then said gently, 'I came to find you because Bilbo is looking for this book, and I thought you might have it.'
If Sam had been red before, his face was now aflame, right to his ear tips. He hung his head guiltily. 'I'm sorry,' he said again in a very small voice.
'You know Bilbo doesn't mind if you look at his books, Sam, but you should always ask permission first.'
'Yessir,' Sam whispered miserably. 'I didn't mean to, only Mr. Bilbo wasn't there to ask and... well, dragons, sir.' He said the word with reverence.
'Nevertheless, you should have asked first,' Frodo said, feeling he ought to emphasise the point. 'But there,' he added, unable to maintain his strict attitude when Sam couldn't have looked more guilty if he were a criminal on trial for murder, 'there's no harm done. Come with me and we'll return the book to Bilbo and you can make your apologies and promise never to take a book again without asking first.' Frodo tucked the book under one arm and held out his hand to Sam.
Sam took it and slid off the chair. Then he looked up at Frodo from wide, apprehensive eyes. 'Is Mr. Bilbo a-going to tan my hiney?' he asked. 'I'll try not to squawk if'n he does.'
'No, of course Bilbo isn't going to beat you,' Frodo said, although he was hard-pressed not to laugh at the very idea of the kindly old hobbit doing such a thing. 'I expect he'll be delighted by your interest in dragons, and then take you along to the kitchen for some cake and regale you with a story about Smaug while you eat it.'
'Really?' Sam asked, apprehension replaced by anticipation.
'Really,' Frodo replied, smiling down at him.
And that is exactly what Bilbo did.