~ The Little Book of Happy Hobbit Things ~

"Sick again, Mr. Frodo?"

Hello everyone! Welcome to the first official chapter of The Little Book of Happy Hobbit Things. Thanks for sticking around to read the first chapter! The next little bit is just a bit of backstory for the chapter, skip if you so wish. Enjoy the story! 

Although my stories aren't usually based on real life events, today I have been home sick from school, with tonsillitis and a nasty bug. To make matters worse, I just got my bottom braces on, and they're hurting my mouth as well as preventing me from eating certain foods. I felt super miserable, so I decided to come up with a headcannon that Frodo was sick a lot as a child (as I am), and Sam would be the one to treat him. But luckily enough for Frodo, Middle-Earth I'm sure doesn't have braces, nor does he have tonsillitis. Lucky sod. Anyway, there's something really charming, I feel, about Frodo and Sam's age difference. I don't know why, but that's why I wrote in an eighteen year old Frodo and six year old Sam into this story. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a happy little comfort for me today. Without further ado, enjoy the story! 

-Nicky ❤️

Pre-quest (quite obviously), mostly platonic (as much as that can get with these two XD).

I used to get sick so often as a child.

The amount of times Bilbo would touch his hand to my forehead and say "You're not fit for going out today lad." I can scarce recall.

However, the first time I was sick with Sam around... That was definitely the time I remember the best.

I was eighteen years old, and had some duties to attend to at the bakery that day, but as luck would have it, I woke up with my voice hoarse, my body shaky and warm and all together unwilling to get out of bed. Bilbo was away up in Bree that day, so I was left alone. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I hated how often I got sick, especially at important times like this. With no one to take care of me, I felt useless, hungry and awful. I was about to turn over and go back to sleep, when I saw the door to my bedroom open. I jumped and held my covers up close to my chest. At first I couldn't see who exactly had opened the door, but then I saw a small head of curly blonde hair walking around the edge of my bed. Sam soon came into full view, holding a tray with food and a cup of water on it. In the corner of the tray was a little flower in a vase. I could still see the dirt on it, meaning Sam must've picked it from somewhere this morning.

"'Ope ya don't mind me enterin' without permission Mr. Frodo, but I heard Mr. Bilbo was away for the day and thought you'd be needin' someone to come take care of you." The way he said my name. He was still quite young, so it sounded rather more like 'Mistuh Fwodo'. It always brightened my day when I'd walk into the garden where he and the Gaffer would be working, and he'd lock eyes with me and give me an exaggerated wave and run over to hug my legs, shouting my name excitedly. The Gaffer would always tell him off for this, saying; "Now then little un', don't go treating the higher classes like yer family. You must respect 'em!" but I'd just laugh and ruffle Sam's hair, saying it was perfectly fine. How I loved his little mannerisms. He was always polite like his father, but when I've taught him that it's ok to be a little more laid back when he's with me.

"Sam, that's too sweet. Thank you very much." I said, taking the tray and putting it on my bedside table. "Is your father with you?"

"No Mr. Frodo sir, he's got work to do t'day. But I'm 'ere! I want to make you smile, even if you're feelin' poorly!" Sam beamed up at me, holding out the cup of water for me to drink. I was parched, so I gladly took it and drank for a while.

"Oh Sam, are you sure? You're still quite a young one-" I started, but Sam put his finger to my lips and shushed me.

"I'm old enough at leas' to keep you company Mr. Frodo. I could 'ave it no other way!" He said stubbornly. I had to suppress a little chuckle. So much like his father already, I thought.