Disclaimer: Tolkien Estate owns everything associated with The Lord of the Rings. So obviously I do not own the characters, places, etc. The plot is mine.
Author's Note: This is something that I decided to try. I am not sure just where this story will go so updates may not happen very quickly. Also if it seems like not many people are interested in this, I will not continue. This story is pre-Quest, and – for now – is not related to my other Sam/Rosie stories.
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Who Would Have Thought…a Gamgee and a Cat?
Chapter One
Yells and shrieks echo in the evening air from three hobbits. Tom Cotton groans as his sliding down the hill is suddenly halted by a tree trunk, getting him in the ribs. He mutters under his breath. Smart Cotton, he grumbles to himself. You certainly swept her off her feet. You are a fool. Slowly he sits up, using the tree for support. Dirt and little rocks tumble down the hill. He looks up and sees Marigold Gamgee coming down slowly, using the roots poking out of places for her feet and hands.
"Tom, are you all right?" she asks.
"Yeah," he says, his face starting to become a deep shade of red. It does not help his pride when he sees the amused grin on her face.
"Is that what you wanted to show me?" she asks, motioning to the view of forest and body of water at the bottom of the hill. The grin widens. "It is nice, though it does not look that much different from what we've been looking at all day," she teases.
Tom mutters some more under his breath. Sisters and their big –
"Where's Rosie?" Marigold says, the amused expression on her face being replaced by one of concern. "She did fall with you."
Tom forgets his embarrassment and peers down the hill, squinting. What did happen to her? "I don't know," he says, puzzled.
He winces as he touches a rib. He will be sore for several days, no doubt. Carefully he half-walks half-slides down the rest of the hill. There is evidence that Rosie fell all the way down because of trampled weeds and little bits of fabric from her dress. Other than that, there is no sign of his sister. Surely she would have not gone into the woods, he muses, peering into the dark forest of tall trees. And if she was hurt…
He walks to the edge of the water. It is smooth as glass. Tom frowns.
"I heard a splash," Marigold says, coming to his side. "It had to have been her."
"She can swim," Tom states, confused.
"I know."
But the bank is dry, giving no sign of anyone wandering out of the water.
"Rosie!" Tom shouts.
Only the sounds of nature fill the two hobbits ears: water lapping against the shore, a bird singing in a tree, flies buzzing loudly about, and dry leaves rustling as a chipmunk scurries toward its home. A kitten meows.
"Ros –" Tom is cut off by Marigold clamping a hand over his mouth. He glowers at her.
"Shh!" she hisses.
Both freeze, not breathing, just waiting. Tom shakes his head. Marigold's eyes slowly move over the water, into the trees, along the bank.
Meow!
"There!" Marigold removes her hand, moves toward the edge of the water, and crouches down.
"What?" Tom mumbles, joining her.
She rises to her feet and turns to him, showing what is in her hands: a small orange kitten with red-orange stripes.
Tom rolls his eyes. "A kitten," he states, in a bored tone.
"A helpless kitten," Marigold retorts, looking at the animal with pity. "What is it doing out here alone?"
"I have no idea. There are more important things I'm worried about," Tom says, sighing. "Rosie!!!!" he shouts again, moving away in search of her.
The kitten meows again, looking after him with what could be a sad expression. Marigold brings the kitten up to her face so that they are eye-to-eye. She peers at it closely, her eyes widening.
"Rosie!" Tom says, becoming scared. Where is she?
"Tom…"
"Rose Cotton! Where are you?!" he screams.
"Tom!"
"What?" he turns to Marigold, who looks at him with a stunned expression on her face. He reaches her side in a moment. "What is it?"
Wordlessly she hands him the kitten. "Look at it," she instructs quietly.
He looks at her, then at the kitten. He blinks at it. The kitten blinks back. Tom looks blankly at his friend. "Uh… It's a kitten."
The kitten makes a weird sound, which he associates with a sigh of frustration. Marigold throws her hands up in the air.
"Yes… Look closely at it," she says impatiently. She starts bouncing from one foot to the other with growing excitement and disbelief.
Tom brings the kitten so close to his face that their noses are nearly touching. Slowly he examines the carrot-orange fur with red-orange stripes, its short white whiskers, its little pink nose, its honey-brown eyes. He does a double take. His mouth forms a large "O" shape as he stares at the kitten. His face is filled with horror, amazement, shock, amusement. Tom tightens his hold, causing the kitten to hiss in protest.
"Rosie…?" he breathes.
The kitten meows.
"Rosie?!" the name explodes from Tom's lungs.
The kitten rolls its eyes and purrs.
Marigold looks back and forth between the hobbit and kitten. She is amused and worried. Amused at her friend's reaction. Worried about what has become of her other – smaller, hairy – friend. "We are in such big trouble…" she whispers, still shocked.
"My sister," a long silence follows, then, "a cat."
Tom faints.
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