Title - Through an Open Window
Author - Mbradford
Rating - G
Summary - Everyone needs a home and somebody to love. A cat tries to adopt a certain young hobbit and that same hobbit brings comfort to another.
Disclaimer - I do not own Lord of the Rings, the Tolkien Estate does. I did not invent hobbits or cats, but I like both.
This story was inspired in part by my own furry friends, Howie, Heidi, Ozzie and Tiger. They are a source of cheer and amusement and are brilliant companions and office assistants.
Timeline - pre - quest, Frodo is 21 years old and has been at Bag End for only a few months.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter One - An Unexpected Visitor
The sun was just peeking over the nearby hills, slowly spreading light and warmth over the green grass. Its rays expanded languidly over the land below, stretching out to touch the flowers beneath the window of the smial.
She sniffed at the blossoms curiously, wondering if any others of her kind were about. She was young, but growing up quickly, and competing with the rest of her litter for food was becoming a chore. It was time she found someone of her own to care for. Perhaps there was someone here she could befriend.
With that thought, she gathered herself and leapt at the flowerbox on the windowsill. It was a short distance for one so agile, and she landed lightly among the begonias, stirring neither leaf nor petal. The window was open to allow the warm summer breeze to enter, and it kindly allowed her to enter as well.
The cat made no sound as she slipped into the room, but gazed around with great interest. The lone occupant of the chamber lay sleeping, completely unaware of her presence. She began to nose into the corners of the room, rubbing against table legs and other convenient items as she went. She could not detect the scent of food about, and surmised that this was not one of the rooms where the Furryfeet - her name for hobbits - prepared their meals.
Perhaps if she woke the sleeping one, he would offer her a tidbit or two. She leapt carefully onto the bed and slowly approached the sleeper. She drew nearer, little by little, until she was nose to nose with him. She reached one paw out lightly, mindful of her claws, and touched him softly on the nose.
Frodo stirred in his sleep, but did not waken. Sensing that she must try again to gain his attention, the cat repeated the action, this time with a questioning "Mrrrrrow?"
Frodo's eyes opened slowly to see two luminous amber ones peering back at him out of a face covered with soft fur of a tawny yellow - orange interspersed with darker stripes. Whiskers twitched, tickling his face and Frodo laughed.
"Well hello, there," he mumbled, giving the cat a light scratch behind one ear. "What are you doing in my room?"
The cat responded by purring loudly and nudging Frodo's hand with her head to demand more attention. Frodo complied, sitting up and letting the cat settle herself in his lap. He petted her for a few moments, speaking soft words of encouragement. She didn't seem to be the least bit afraid of him, so he moved to lift her in his arms.
The cat allowed herself to be raised from the bedspread, and Frodo examined her quickly. A female, then, and not yet fully-grown. He wondered where she came from. "Do you have a home?" He asked, feeling slightly silly speaking to a cat as if he expected an answer.
"Mow!" The cat replied, and nudged him again.
"Well, I suppose I should get up and see to some breakfast," Frodo told it as he set the creature down on the floor. "Maybe I've something you'd like, too," he added, much to the cat's satisfaction. She preened herself happily as Frodo dressed and scrubbed his face at the washstand. When he finished, he turned to the cat and beckoned. "Well, come on, then. Are you hungry?"
The cat meowed again and followed Frodo out of the room, it's tail twitching and its ears perked up. This Furryfoot seemed to understand her well enough, and he seemed to be friendly.
In the kitchen, Frodo found a bowl and poured just a little bit of milk into it. The cat rubbed against his leg to thank him and began to lap up her breakfast.
At that moment, Frodo heard a sound behind him as Bilbo entered the kitchen, yawning and stretching, his dressing gown askew and his hair mussed from sleep. "Good morning, Frodo," he ventured. "Sleep well?"
"Yes, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo replied. "And I woke to a surprise. Look what came in through my window. Can we keep her?" He pointed at the cat who was licking her whiskers daintily.
Suddenly Bilbo was quite awake, and to Frodo's surprise, he was backing away. His eyes were wide, and he had thrust one hand up in front of his face as if to ward off something nasty. The other hand he held out in front of him, pointing at the furry creature in his kitchen. "Oh, dear, Frodo! Please, take it outside! I'm terribly allergic to cats!" He exclaimed.
"Oh, Uncle," Frodo stammered. "I'm sorry. You never told me - "
"Not your fault, lad," Bilbo responded quickly. "I never mentioned it before, never had occasion to. But she must be taken outside, or my eyes will swell shut and I'll not be myself for an entire day!"
"Come on, girl," Frodo said, picking up the cat. "It's nice outside this morning and you can play in the garden." He carried the cat outside and placed it on the ground among the flowers. It rolled a few times and stretched out in the sun, enjoying the warmth. "I'm going back inside now, but if you stay here I'll think of something."
The cat seemed unconcerned as to its fate at the moment and swatted playfully at a butterfly that flitted past.
Frodo paused on the stoop and thought for a moment. The cat was very friendly and would make someone a lovely companion. It would be useful in keeping rodents away as well. But if he couldn't keep it, what was he to do? He couldn't just let it wander about aimlessly. It needed a home, and a good one at that.
He sighed as he entered Bag End and made his way back to the kitchen. Bilbo sat at the table and looked up apologetically at Frodo. "I'm sorry, lad. She's a lovely cat to be sure, but I simply cannot have her here."
"I understand," Frodo said with a nod. "But she must go somewhere, mustn't she?"
"I suppose she must," Bilbo said, eyeing Frodo sharply. Was the boy so determined to find the stray a home because he himself had only so recently found one? Bilbo considered. Frodo had indeed had a home of sorts at Brandy Hall, but it wasn't like the home he had now. It was teeming with relatives, busy morning, noon and night, and there were few places for an introspective tween to find solitude when he craved it. Bag End was home to Frodo now, a real home with space he called his own, places where no one came to bother him without his leave.
"If we can't keep her, perhaps I can find someone who can," Frodo said thoughtfully. "There must be someone we know who wouldn't mind her presence."
Bilbo smiled. "A worthy pursuit, young Frodo. I expect your new friend would be quite grateful if you were to find her a place of her own."
"Then I shall," Frodo said decidedly. "In the meantime, can she stay in the shed? I know she can't come inside Bag End, but she must have shelter in case there's a storm."
"A fine idea, my boy," Bilbo said, glad that the issue had been at least partly resolved. "We've a few things about in the kitchen that would make a meal or two for her, and there's an old blanket in the armoire in the hall."
Frodo thanked Bilbo and retrieved the blanket. He returned to the garden to find Sam kneeling and petting the little cat. "Hullo, Sam!" Frodo called, waving.
"Mornin' Mr. Frodo," Sam responded. "Who is this, then?"
"She invited herself in for breakfast this morning, and I've not the faintest idea where she came from," Frodo replied. "We can't keep her. Bilbo is allergic."
"That's a shame, that is," Sam said. "She's a friendly one."
An idea occurred to Frodo. "Can your family take her, Sam? Your sisters would probably love her."
"That they would, Mr. Frodo," Sam agreed, but he shook his head. "But I know me Gaffer, an' he'll just be on about another mouth to feed. Don't do any good to tell him she'd be feedin' herself most of the time what with the field mice an' all."
"Hmmm. Well, we've some time to find her a proper home, I guess," Frodo said. "In the meantime, Bilbo said he doesn't mind if she stays in the shed. I'm going to make her a bed from this blanket. You can help, if you like."
Sam nodded and followed Frodo to the shed. The cat seemed to know something was afoot that concerned her, and she followed gamely behind, trotting at a brisk pace. Sam moved a few items off the top of a barrel in a corner and blew the dust off the lid. Frodo folded the blanket and laid it atop the barrel and called to the cat. "Come on girl. It's for you. Do you like it?"
The cat leapt up onto the barrel and sniffed at the blanket. She turned three circles and stopped to knead it for a moment, then lay down contentedly and closed her eyes.
"I think it'll do, Mr. Frodo," Sam said with a smile.
"For now, at least," Frodo responded. "But I must find her a proper home, Sam. She deserves it, and there must be someone who would be a good friend to her."
"I'll think on it, Mr. Frodo," Sam promised. "I'll let you know if I find someone."
"Thank you Sam," Frodo replied. He rubbed the cat's ears for a moment, then left it to sleep happily in the shed.
~*~ To Be Continued ~*~
Author - Mbradford
Rating - G
Summary - Everyone needs a home and somebody to love. A cat tries to adopt a certain young hobbit and that same hobbit brings comfort to another.
Disclaimer - I do not own Lord of the Rings, the Tolkien Estate does. I did not invent hobbits or cats, but I like both.
This story was inspired in part by my own furry friends, Howie, Heidi, Ozzie and Tiger. They are a source of cheer and amusement and are brilliant companions and office assistants.
Timeline - pre - quest, Frodo is 21 years old and has been at Bag End for only a few months.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter One - An Unexpected Visitor
The sun was just peeking over the nearby hills, slowly spreading light and warmth over the green grass. Its rays expanded languidly over the land below, stretching out to touch the flowers beneath the window of the smial.
She sniffed at the blossoms curiously, wondering if any others of her kind were about. She was young, but growing up quickly, and competing with the rest of her litter for food was becoming a chore. It was time she found someone of her own to care for. Perhaps there was someone here she could befriend.
With that thought, she gathered herself and leapt at the flowerbox on the windowsill. It was a short distance for one so agile, and she landed lightly among the begonias, stirring neither leaf nor petal. The window was open to allow the warm summer breeze to enter, and it kindly allowed her to enter as well.
The cat made no sound as she slipped into the room, but gazed around with great interest. The lone occupant of the chamber lay sleeping, completely unaware of her presence. She began to nose into the corners of the room, rubbing against table legs and other convenient items as she went. She could not detect the scent of food about, and surmised that this was not one of the rooms where the Furryfeet - her name for hobbits - prepared their meals.
Perhaps if she woke the sleeping one, he would offer her a tidbit or two. She leapt carefully onto the bed and slowly approached the sleeper. She drew nearer, little by little, until she was nose to nose with him. She reached one paw out lightly, mindful of her claws, and touched him softly on the nose.
Frodo stirred in his sleep, but did not waken. Sensing that she must try again to gain his attention, the cat repeated the action, this time with a questioning "Mrrrrrow?"
Frodo's eyes opened slowly to see two luminous amber ones peering back at him out of a face covered with soft fur of a tawny yellow - orange interspersed with darker stripes. Whiskers twitched, tickling his face and Frodo laughed.
"Well hello, there," he mumbled, giving the cat a light scratch behind one ear. "What are you doing in my room?"
The cat responded by purring loudly and nudging Frodo's hand with her head to demand more attention. Frodo complied, sitting up and letting the cat settle herself in his lap. He petted her for a few moments, speaking soft words of encouragement. She didn't seem to be the least bit afraid of him, so he moved to lift her in his arms.
The cat allowed herself to be raised from the bedspread, and Frodo examined her quickly. A female, then, and not yet fully-grown. He wondered where she came from. "Do you have a home?" He asked, feeling slightly silly speaking to a cat as if he expected an answer.
"Mow!" The cat replied, and nudged him again.
"Well, I suppose I should get up and see to some breakfast," Frodo told it as he set the creature down on the floor. "Maybe I've something you'd like, too," he added, much to the cat's satisfaction. She preened herself happily as Frodo dressed and scrubbed his face at the washstand. When he finished, he turned to the cat and beckoned. "Well, come on, then. Are you hungry?"
The cat meowed again and followed Frodo out of the room, it's tail twitching and its ears perked up. This Furryfoot seemed to understand her well enough, and he seemed to be friendly.
In the kitchen, Frodo found a bowl and poured just a little bit of milk into it. The cat rubbed against his leg to thank him and began to lap up her breakfast.
At that moment, Frodo heard a sound behind him as Bilbo entered the kitchen, yawning and stretching, his dressing gown askew and his hair mussed from sleep. "Good morning, Frodo," he ventured. "Sleep well?"
"Yes, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo replied. "And I woke to a surprise. Look what came in through my window. Can we keep her?" He pointed at the cat who was licking her whiskers daintily.
Suddenly Bilbo was quite awake, and to Frodo's surprise, he was backing away. His eyes were wide, and he had thrust one hand up in front of his face as if to ward off something nasty. The other hand he held out in front of him, pointing at the furry creature in his kitchen. "Oh, dear, Frodo! Please, take it outside! I'm terribly allergic to cats!" He exclaimed.
"Oh, Uncle," Frodo stammered. "I'm sorry. You never told me - "
"Not your fault, lad," Bilbo responded quickly. "I never mentioned it before, never had occasion to. But she must be taken outside, or my eyes will swell shut and I'll not be myself for an entire day!"
"Come on, girl," Frodo said, picking up the cat. "It's nice outside this morning and you can play in the garden." He carried the cat outside and placed it on the ground among the flowers. It rolled a few times and stretched out in the sun, enjoying the warmth. "I'm going back inside now, but if you stay here I'll think of something."
The cat seemed unconcerned as to its fate at the moment and swatted playfully at a butterfly that flitted past.
Frodo paused on the stoop and thought for a moment. The cat was very friendly and would make someone a lovely companion. It would be useful in keeping rodents away as well. But if he couldn't keep it, what was he to do? He couldn't just let it wander about aimlessly. It needed a home, and a good one at that.
He sighed as he entered Bag End and made his way back to the kitchen. Bilbo sat at the table and looked up apologetically at Frodo. "I'm sorry, lad. She's a lovely cat to be sure, but I simply cannot have her here."
"I understand," Frodo said with a nod. "But she must go somewhere, mustn't she?"
"I suppose she must," Bilbo said, eyeing Frodo sharply. Was the boy so determined to find the stray a home because he himself had only so recently found one? Bilbo considered. Frodo had indeed had a home of sorts at Brandy Hall, but it wasn't like the home he had now. It was teeming with relatives, busy morning, noon and night, and there were few places for an introspective tween to find solitude when he craved it. Bag End was home to Frodo now, a real home with space he called his own, places where no one came to bother him without his leave.
"If we can't keep her, perhaps I can find someone who can," Frodo said thoughtfully. "There must be someone we know who wouldn't mind her presence."
Bilbo smiled. "A worthy pursuit, young Frodo. I expect your new friend would be quite grateful if you were to find her a place of her own."
"Then I shall," Frodo said decidedly. "In the meantime, can she stay in the shed? I know she can't come inside Bag End, but she must have shelter in case there's a storm."
"A fine idea, my boy," Bilbo said, glad that the issue had been at least partly resolved. "We've a few things about in the kitchen that would make a meal or two for her, and there's an old blanket in the armoire in the hall."
Frodo thanked Bilbo and retrieved the blanket. He returned to the garden to find Sam kneeling and petting the little cat. "Hullo, Sam!" Frodo called, waving.
"Mornin' Mr. Frodo," Sam responded. "Who is this, then?"
"She invited herself in for breakfast this morning, and I've not the faintest idea where she came from," Frodo replied. "We can't keep her. Bilbo is allergic."
"That's a shame, that is," Sam said. "She's a friendly one."
An idea occurred to Frodo. "Can your family take her, Sam? Your sisters would probably love her."
"That they would, Mr. Frodo," Sam agreed, but he shook his head. "But I know me Gaffer, an' he'll just be on about another mouth to feed. Don't do any good to tell him she'd be feedin' herself most of the time what with the field mice an' all."
"Hmmm. Well, we've some time to find her a proper home, I guess," Frodo said. "In the meantime, Bilbo said he doesn't mind if she stays in the shed. I'm going to make her a bed from this blanket. You can help, if you like."
Sam nodded and followed Frodo to the shed. The cat seemed to know something was afoot that concerned her, and she followed gamely behind, trotting at a brisk pace. Sam moved a few items off the top of a barrel in a corner and blew the dust off the lid. Frodo folded the blanket and laid it atop the barrel and called to the cat. "Come on girl. It's for you. Do you like it?"
The cat leapt up onto the barrel and sniffed at the blanket. She turned three circles and stopped to knead it for a moment, then lay down contentedly and closed her eyes.
"I think it'll do, Mr. Frodo," Sam said with a smile.
"For now, at least," Frodo responded. "But I must find her a proper home, Sam. She deserves it, and there must be someone who would be a good friend to her."
"I'll think on it, Mr. Frodo," Sam promised. "I'll let you know if I find someone."
"Thank you Sam," Frodo replied. He rubbed the cat's ears for a moment, then left it to sleep happily in the shed.
~*~ To Be Continued ~*~