Frodo frowned at his paper. "Don't see why I have to learn this," he mumbled, glancing longingly out the window. He could hear the shrieks of the other Hobbit children at their play.
Bilbo smiled kindly and patted his head. "Elvish is one of the most beautiful languages. And the Elves have such lovely stories. It'll be worth it, my lad." He moved over to the desk and sat down, engrossing himself in one of his books.
Pretending to study, Frodo waited until he was sure Bilbo wouldn't notice, then crept from his chair and snuck over to the window. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of it, and ran down the hill.
Rosie greeted him by flinging a mushy apple at his head. Sam tackled her into the leaves and tickled her mercilessly, and the others pelted both of them with more of the soft missiles.
Frodo picked up an apple and joined in.
~