DISCLAIMER: Middle-earth is Tolkien's. I do not claim any of his work for my own.
This tale takes place in 1442 Shire-Reckoning, twenty-one some odd years after Frodo Baggins departs from Middle-earth at the end of the Third Age. This story focuses mainly on Frodo's namesake, Frodo Gamgee--Samwise's oldest son--and the challenges awaiting him.
Note: Sam and Rose have thirteen children and at the time this tale takes place, here--roughly--are their ages: Elanor is 22, Frodo is 20, Rose is 18, Merry is 16, Pippin is 14, Goldilocks is 12, Hamfast is 11, Daisy is 10, Primrose is 8, Bilbo is 7, Ruby is 5, Robin is 3, and Tolman (Tom) is several months. You have to remember that hobbit and human development differ considerably.
TO SPREAD THY WINGS
"I still don't understand, Da," Frodo Gamgee trailed his father, the cutting shears tucked beneath his arm. "If Elanor gets to go, why can't I?"
Samwise sighed in exasperation. "Frodo my lad, we've been over this. Lord Aragorn and Lady Arwen have invited us to stay with them for a while."
"But for a year!" Frodo's arms flew wide and the shears fell to the lawn. Samwise scooped them up and passed them back to his son.
"Careful with those, Frodo," Sam patted their sharp blades as if he were shaking hands with a long forgotten friend.
Frodo grasped the shears and shook his head. "You didn't answer my question. Why can't I go?"
"Who would look after Bag End and watch over your brothers and sisters? Answer me that!" Sam turned hurriedly and made his way to their little hobbit-hole door, thinking he had won but not waiting to find out.
His son, however, was far from finished. "Little Merry's old enough and he'll have Rose besides." Frodo ran over to his father and grasped the old hobbit by the arm. "Come on, Da! Let me come." He held his father's gaze intently, until Sam was forced to turn away.
"Sorry, my lad, but its just me and your Ma and Elanor this time. Ah, and Little Tom of course!" Sam patted his son on the shoulder. "Perhaps next time, son. Your mother, er, you know how she gets."
"Samwise Gamgee!" Sam cringed and both father and son turned to the window (the very one that so many years before, Gandalf the Grey had yanked a very startled and very flustered hobbit through). Rose stood framed in the round opening. "Don't you go blaming me for things that a mother of thirteen can't help."
"Yes, love," Sam called weakly and smiled sheepishly.
Rose looked at her son. "Go wash for supper, Frodo."
Frodo looked from his Ma to his Da, his eyes smoldering with suppressed anger. He bit back the heated words he longed to let out. Mumbling something for which his mother took for affirmation, Frodo turned and stomped off in the direction of the well.
"I sent Elanor for some water," Rose called after him. "If you see her, tell her to clean up too."
Rose was about to say more but thought better of it when she saw her son stiffen considerably at the mention of his older sister. She turned to Sam, "He was pestering you again, wasn't he?"
"Ah, love," Sam walked up to the window and took his wife's hand in his own. "He wants to go so badly." He turned to where his son had gone. "The Shire is becoming too cramped for him. He yearns for adventure."
Rose shook her head and scowled. "He's a hobbit. And just a boy at that."
"Master Frodo was a hobbit," Sam said quietly and his gaze lost their focus. His eyes became glazed and his wife looked down at him to hear the soft and almost sad tone in his voice.
"Master Frodo was also the Ring-bearer." Rose ran her fingers through her husband's curly hair.
Sam blinked and the haze left his eyes. He looked up at Rose. "Aye, the Ring-bearer," he spoke softly and closed his eyes. "Oh, how I miss him, my love. How I miss him."
Rose leaned out the window and kissed Sam upon the brow.
"Our Frodo is a child, Sam. I will not loose him."
Sam looked at Rose and returned her kiss. "Yes," he sighed. "He will stay."
"It's time to sup, Elanor," Frodo growled darkly, passing by his sister. "Ma wants you to wash."
Elanor set her bucket of water upon the ground and joined her brother at the well. He released the crank and the well's bucket fell freely into its dark depths. When he heard the splash at the bottom and was sure it had sunk, he began to turn the crank.
Elanor watched her brother from beneath lowered lashes, curious, but not wholly surprised by his dark mood. "You asked again," she said after a moment, pointedly making it a statement and not a question.
Frodo didn't reply.
She sighed. "Why do you bother, brother? You know Ma will never let you. Besides, Merry isn't old enough to take on the responsibility of Bag End. And Father wouldn't put it into the hands of Little Rose while we were away. She's can be so daft sometimes." She shook her head but it was obvious her tone held fondness.
Frodo heaved the bucket out of the well, and growled low in his throat, "Don't call Rose daft, Elanor."
Elanor brushed her golden locks from her face and dipped her small hands into the cold water. "Oh, Frodo, I didn't mean anything by it."
Frodo cupped his hands and scooped up the water to splash it into his face. He rubbed the garden's soil from his cheeks and chin, then wiped his sleeve across his mouth.
"Anyway," Elanor said, rubbing her hands together. "You mustn't keep pestering Ma and Da. You know you have to stay."
"I know nothing of the sort!" Frodo retorted, glaring at his sister and swiping the rest of the water from his face. "I am sick of this place! Sick of these people! All these silly little hobbits that won't even dare the step to leave their little porches and see the world. Who are content with watching the world pass by their front window. Well, not me! I refuse to stay here my whole life and the sooner I escape the better!"
"Escape?" Elanor laughed. "You talk as if the Shire were a prison."
"And who's to say it's not?" demanded Frodo.
Elanor smiled and shook her head, disbelief in her eyes and upon her face. "Frodo, the Shire is the grandest place in all of Middle-earth!" She spun and her blue dress billowed. "No where is more splendid!"
"Says who?" he challenged.
Elanor frowned, becoming irritated with her brother's refusal to accept what was. "Why, everybody," she stated simply.
"Everybody as in 'hobbits-everybody'?" he asked.
"Yes."
Frodo jabbed a finger at his sister and she scowled darkly, placing delicate hands upon delicate hips. "Well that's where you're wrong! Hobbits aren't everybody but a very few of everybody. What about all the humans and elves and dwarves and orcs?" Elanor shuddered. "What about all of them?" he wanted to know.
Elanor huffed, "I wasn't counting them, Frodo." She scowled, "And don't point!" she slapped her brother's hand away.
Frodo snatched his hand back and glared at his sister. "Well you should have," he said. "They make up more of Middle-earth's population than we do. And you don't see any of them hanging around here, do you?"
"That's because we have more sense then they do," Elanor replied angrily.
Frodo snorted. "Hobbit-sense. That's one thing I am glad I was born without."
Elanor sighed, "Oh, Frodo, you're being ridiculous."
"And you're being a typical hobbit!" he shot back angrily.
Elanor was about to retort hotly when Merry came running around the corner, laughing hysterically, with Rose close on his heals.
"Merry Gamgee, you give that right back, you hear me!" Rose shrieked in rage.
Merry just laughed and dived behind Frodo, something clutched in his right hand. Rose jumped after him and the two zipped around their irritated brother. Moments later, Pippin joined them.
"I saw Rose kiss Hob! I saw Rose kiss Hob! I saw Rose kiss Hob!" Pippin sung as he danced around Elanor and Frodo.
"Merry, give it back!"
"Frodo, Frodo, look!" huffed Merry, trying to show his brother what he held and at the same time trying desperately to stay out of his sister's claw-like grasp. "Look what Hob gave Rose, Frodo! Look! Look!" But the hobbit youth dashed about so much that Frodo didn't have a chance to see it, even had he been looking, which he had not.
"I'm gonna tell Da, Merry, and you're going to get it! Da! Da!" Rose hollered, still chasing the laughing Merry around Elanor and Frodo.
"Hob kissed Rose!" sung Pippin.
"Da! Da!"
"Look, Frodo, look!"
"I'm gonna tell Da, Merry! Give it back!"
"Hob gave it to Rose!"
Frodo watched the youths run about his feet, screaming and laughing and singing. He watched as Elanor tried telling them to behave and he watched as they all completely ignored her.
"STOP!" Frodo roared and the three came to a standstill. They watched Frodo wide-eyed and open-mouthed, staring in disbelief. Their older brother had always been there to laugh and wrestle with them, to tease and to toss them. He'd always encouraged roughhousing and never got mad at their arguings, indeed he often chose sides. "Just stop!"
"Merry, give Rose back whatever you took," he ordered.
"But--" the light-haired youth stammered in disbelief.
"Now, Merry!"
Merry dropped a small flowered hairpiece into his sister's hands. Rose was too overcome at Frodo's tone to give Merry a triumphant smile.
They all just stared at him.
"Supper's ready, go eat," he jabbed at Bag End but the three didn't move and Frodo saw Pippin had tears in his eyes. Frodo ignored him. "Go!" The three dashed off.
There was a moment of silence as Frodo clenched his jaw. He turned and shoved the bucket back into the well with a bit more effort than was required.
"I don't think that was necessary," Elanor said finally, referring to their siblings.
Frodo said nothing, but turned and walked from the well.
"Where are you going?" Elanor called after him, for he was going in the opposite direction of Bag End.
"Tell Ma I'm not hungry!"
"But, Frodo . . ." she trailed off as Frodo disappeared into the small wood behind their home. She watched him go and then shook her head. "Da's going to be upset."
Please give me any and all comments or suggestions on your mind. Thanx!
I have the entire story in my head--most now on paper--and it is the challenge of finishing the writing that always stands in my way. ::sigh::