A/N: Well this was a work in progress for the longest time. This was rated
solely for foul language, and I doubt most of it counts because it's mostly
English slang ^^ and there's not a word in English slang that I'm offended
by. Well this was supposed to be my piece to Frodo, pretty much. An apology
to him, for all that I've done, and an attempt to portray the Frodo Baggins
as I believe he was meant to be. Not sickly or feminine or weak in any way
whatsoever. This is the Frodo Baggins I love and whether or not he is the
exact one Tolkien created (foul language notwithstanding) or not, I tried
to portray him as best I can. There's a bit of a reference to something I
mentioned in "Imprisoned" in here but it shouldn't be too confusing so you
don't have to go read the thirty chapter fanfic to understand. Also this is
a bit of a tribute to my regular readers who have so generously encouraged
me to take a break to enjoy my boyfriend. It was so nice of you I decided
to give you all this! Hope you like!
Oh and the song is all mine! Yes my attempt at making a believable Hobbit drinking song ^^
~~~
Birthdays at the Green Dragon
Young Sam Gamgee looked up for the first time in hours from his tedious duties about Bag-End. He had trimmed the hedges precisely and coaxed the new blooms to life with a few delightful sprits and sprays from the watering can. It had been very hot lately (queer for that time of September) and it was not good to let the fair petals become too dry, as they had wont to fade and shrivel. Then came the weeding, and Sam, being Sam, took this duty with special care as at this time of year weeds had woven their thick roots about the ones of the flowers. Now the tools were neatly away, for Sam would not have it otherwise, and the shed was properly cleaned, and the dust he had worked up was swept from the path and porch step. Indeed only then did the lad notice that the sky had grown pale with gold and lavender and the edges of the horizon blazed like fire.
"I reckon Master Frodo will be right proud of this job," smiled Sam as he swept away the last bits of dust. "Though I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since I roused him this morning. It's not like Mr. Frodo, to be cooping himself in all day, that it isn't." Sam paused for a moment. "Right queer," he thought as he found the broom's proper place and dusted himself off so that he was respectable enough to enter Bag-End.
Sam found his way quietly to the kitchen and saw his master's back to him. Frodo raised a glass, half full of wine, towards the window. He bowed his head slightly and murmured almost to himself, "Happy Birthday, cousin." He quickly drained the glass and set it on the table.
"Mr. Frodo?" ventured the young gardener.
"Hoy now!" Frodo cried but quickly began to chuckle. "Dear Sam! Pray you ought not scare an old hobbit so."
"I'm sorry sir," Sam stuttered shamefully.
Frodo waved a hand. "All's well, Samwise. I did not mean to seem harsh. I'm sure you supposed I'd hear you but one's thoughts can seem louder than the patter of hobbit lads behind them."
"It's old Master Bilbo's birthday, I reckon sir? My it's been a while but bless me that means it's your birthday too sir!"
Frodo smiled, "That it is. And I'm afraid that means the misguided doings of one highly spirited Brandybuck will once again plague Hobbiton."
Sam chuckled. "Will Fatty be coming too this time sir?"
"Yes Sam, twice the mischief to clear the dust out of my head." Frodo chuckled. "I need it too. I ought not bury myself as I do, but being Master of Bag-End is rather troublesome. It is pleasant to indulge with the rapscallions for one night a year at least."
"Right you are sir!" laughed Sam. "Why that's why I was coming in. Haven't seen a stitch of you all day and I was about to drag you out by your ear myself, begging your pardon sir. It's not healthy."
"Well then perhaps you should accompany us. I think you're old enough for a night of devilry, though..." and at this Frodo's eyes shone with a cunning light that Sam knew all too well. "Though I hate to be the one to corrupt you, lad."
Sam tried hard not to burst into laughter. "Aye sir but I don't think you'll be corrupting me."
"I've warned you lad. It is crucial that you take precautionary measures when dealing with Bagginses and Brandybucks. Now off with you lad! Get your coat and tell your Gaffer that I absolutely demand your presence on the account of my birthday!"
"Right sir!" And Sam was off down the road towards Number 3 Bagshot Row.
Frodo smiled, his eyes gleaming with mirth at the thoughts of the night ahead. He chuckled slightly at seeing the door swing open a crack. Because of Sam's delight and eagerness he had forgotten to make sure the latch fell in place. Frodo stepped out onto the porch and felt the cool air fly about him, brushing the sweep of curls from his neck and the locks from his bright eyes. The garden was glimmering with silver beads, from Sam's watering, and the setting sun brought out the flames in the tiger lilies. A smile curved up Frodo's lips and his cheeks shone with the rosy hue that was customary for most hobbits. His voice rose with laughter as he heard the clamour of a cart coming up the road. The Brandybuck and Bolger had arrived.
Frodo stepped onto this porch and took a breath, reveling in the last few moments of silent tranquility he'd know for the rest of the night. Then he burst forward laughing like a lad again, about to see a favorite relative. The cart pulled to a halt and a flaxen haired hobbit sprung from the seat and sang proudly the last lines of a song he obviously had been singing along the road.
Listen to the song of lovely lasses
Upon their curved hips deliv'ring glasses!
Frodo chimed in:
Of frothing gold foam
Wherever I roam
All ales the Green Dragon surpasses!
"One of my favorites, cousin!" cried Frodo embracing the Brandybuck. "But you do butcher my rhyming so! Let's have at it again, the whole thing, once we reach the tavern."
"I believe it is your own prose that is dreadful and not my singing. And let's strike up the tune after you've had a few in you and see how fine and fair Mr. Baggins shall sound." Meriadoc Brandybuck smirked, tossing the hair from his face and winking toward Fatty. The rounder hobbit chuckled heartily and tied the ponies.
"Fredegar," laughed Frodo, slinging an arm about Merry's shoulder. Merry got the deepest suspicion that Frodo had done so to prevent any means of escape. Frodo continued, speaking fairly loudly. "How then fares your sister after our dear Merry here had just a bit too many our last outing!"
Fredegar fixed a glare upon both Baggins and Brandybuck and the color seemed to slowly drain out of Merry's face and flushed straight into Frodo's as the latter burst into laughter.
Fatty smiled cunningly, "You were quite lucky, Brandybuck, that I got between you two in time. The next day you might have been looking at a marriage or a funeral."
"You act like both are equally dreadful fates," muttered Merry.
"An honourable Brandybuck," said Frodo followed by a few moments of silence as both Frodo and Fatty attempted to keep a straight face. All dying in vain as both nearly collapsed to the ground laughing. Merry grumbled as Fatty pounded his thighs and Frodo put his hand to his knees and leaned forward to keep from falling.
"It seems I've missed the fun already, sir."
All three turned to see Sam Gamgee coming up the road. Frodo made an attempt to quell his laughter and took a deep breath. "Sam will be joining the festivities for tonight. I believe you've all met."
Merry smiled, regaining some of his color. "Hello Sam," he hailed. "I hope Frodo has given you warning about the night of havoc that is yet to be."
"Good warning, Master Merry. But I'm afraid it's only made me curiouser as to what might happen, sir."
Both Merry and Frodo's eyes twinkled in a sly manner that proved to any who might be passing that they were close kin. "You'll regret it lad."
There came a rough grumble from Fatty. "You lads can chat and give warning all you may like but I've come a long way and my stomach is quite empty. To the tavern now, the best in Hobbiton, if you little-lamb-lads," and to punctuate this insult he gave Frodo's relatively thin stomach a jab, "from Hobbiton can fill me I'll be quite impressed."
"Lamb-lad!" huffed Frodo indignantly. "Surely I'm not so well endowed with a properly cushioned stomach such as yourself, Fredegar, but I'm hale and hearty as any hobbit!"
Sam suppressed a giggle at his master's expense. "I try and feed him best I can, Mr. Fredegar."
"Quite an insult to the extraordinary cooking of young Samwise here," Frodo began.
"Insult to my cooking, sir, or your appetite. I see no fault with my platter."
"Samwise!" Frodo cried, taken off guard by Sam's casual manner.
"There's a lad!" laughed Merry. "As we can all see Frodo here is just sweet as a lamb!" He leaned over and grabbed Frodo's cheek between his fingers. "Fine and fair as any as well."
Frodo turned red and slapped his cousin's hand away. "I advise you to have some respect for your elders. And on my birthday as well. I ought to box those ears and put you over my knee!"
"I'd like to see you try, cousin."
Frodo huffed and reached to snatch Merry's ear. "Tut-tut cousin!" laughed Merry as he dodged Frodo's hand. "You'll have to be a bit quicker, you old gaffer."
"Enough!" bellowed Fatty, looking none the less than put out. "Before I drag you both to the inn by your ears. I'm starved!"
"No respect," Frodo grumbled.
Sam smiled. "The Green Dragon should suit your needs, Mr. Fredegar. The beer is thick and hearty and the food no less so. Proper for any hobbit."
"Then away! To the Green Dragon!" and Fatty marched stoutly down the road. Merry grinned and strode proudly after him. Frodo made an attempt to cast away his blushing indignation and received a shy grin from Sam.
"I'm sorry to have been forthright, sir."
"Quite alright, Sam." Frodo put a hand on Sam's shoulder and grinned back good-naturedly. "Feel free to speak your mind tonight."
"Right sir." Sam nodded a bit doubtfully.
~~~
The four traveled down the road and reached the center of town as the silvery autumn night swept over Hobbiton. Things were quiet as was the wont for that time of year. The nights were cool and most hobbits went out on their porches after second dinner for a pipe and a quiet sit. Young hobbit children burst from their doors and scurried after the fireflies that began to rise from the cool grass and twinkle like hovering stars. Sam saw a hobbit lad lighting the street lamps and recognized him as Nibs, Rose's youngest brother. As the four hobbits continued their merry conversation Sam took time to greet the young boy.
"Allo sir," replied Nibs throwing down his hood. "Fine night it is. Are you off to the Green Dragon then?"
"Yes, Nibs," said Sam.
Frodo smiled. "Would your sister be working tonight then, lad?"
Sam blushed a bit. "Yes sir, Master Baggins," answered Nibs. "She'll be right glad to see you and Master Sam. She won't stop complainin' round the smial that she don't get to see you fine Hobbiton lads enough. Specially Sam..." The lad blushed slightly realizing he gave away a bit of private information.
Frodo's eyes shone but Sam looked away bashfully. "Really then? Well I wish you a fare night, young Master Cotton."
The little lad blushed at the formal use of his name. "Y-yes sir. And I wish ye merry sir."
Frodo and Sam turned to continue on their way as Nibs finished lighting the last few of the street lamps. Merry and Fatty had traveled on a ways, probably because of Fatty's desperate need for food. But Merry did not seem so eager for he stopped to speak to Mistress Holbody, though it'd be more appropriate to say she stopped him to inquire what his business was in Hobbiton. It did not take long for Frodo and Sam to catch up and Fatty was making quite a display of groaning and sighing behind them. Frodo smiled at one of Hobbiton's newest mothers as she cradled her sleeping son.
"Good evening, Mrs. Holbody," Frodo bowed. "Quite a jewel you've got there."
"My dearest treasure, sir. Would you like to hold him then?"
Merry Fatty and Sam gazed at Frodo intently and silent. Frodo seemed to be taken a little off guard but acquiesced whole-heartedly. "Might I, ma'am?" he whispered, gazing at the child reverently. Sam noted that for the first time in his life he had heard his master sound almost childish. As the little bundle was placed in Frodo's arms they seemed immediately to adjust to the child, supporting his head flawlessly, pressing him with the softest gentleness against the warmth of his breast. Frodo's bright eyes shone deep and thoughtful, fixed only on the sleeping face of the child. Frodo's lips were slightly parted, awestruck and silent, as if this great master of words could find no breath to speak nor prose to articulate any response to what he was thinking. But Sam saw what he was thinking simply through the sad shimmer of his fathomless gaze. "He's so lovely," Frodo finally uttered before reluctantly handing him back to his mother.
"Aye sir," beamed the mother proudly. "You'll be such a wonder, Master Baggins, once you settle down and have a brood of your own."
But at these words Frodo tensed as if he was abruptly struck across the face. A grimace shuddered across his features and bitterness seemed to swell up within his trembling bosom. He fought to speak. "I suppose," he ground out. "But I have no right to- to impede upon some fine lass the... strange ways of an old Baggins." He fought to smile. Mrs. Holbody seemed to sense his distress.
"Don't tell me you haven't been looking, sir. I've seen you courting that dear Lilly Fairwater a few years ago. Whatever happened?"
Frodo's eyes darkened. "I believe, madam, that I am not at liberty to speak of such things. It's only proper to keep one's private life to oneself and I'm afraid the name of Mad Baggins is spoken enough by other tongues than my own, so I need not contribute." Frodo turned away and took a slight breath. He shoved his hands in his pockets and seemed to be searching for something. "You've heard the rumors, my lady, and you know the strange ways of Bagginses." He feigned a good-humoured chuckle. "Wouldn't want any upstanding lass tracking me on my queer adventures. It would not be proper, nor fair to her."
Mrs. Holbody stared at him for a while until Merry decided to intervene. "My fine lady! I'm afraid it seems to be getting late and we wish to celebrate my cousin's birthday before it is over."
The lady hobbit startled a moment. "Oh! It is your birthday then. Well many happy birthdays to you, Master Baggins. I wish you a good night."
"Good night, Mrs. Holbody," Frodo again bowed in a mannerly farewell.
The rest of the way to the Green Dragon was traveled in relative silence. Sam was thinking far too much to be guiding his own feet along the road but found it easy to just instinctively follow the others. He had known about Frodo's courting Miss Fairwater and he had also a few theories on why it had ended. Frodo would leave Bag-End one day, because of that thing in his pocket, and he did not want to leave an expectant lass behind, waiting for a love that Frodo thought might never return. Sam silently cursed his master's selflessness. He was making himself suffer twice as much then, by taking the burden from another. He loved Lilly, Sam knew that all to well. He knew the light in Frodo's eyes when her name was mentioned. He knew the sighs that Frodo was prone too when she had his company. He also knew that when the door to the master bedroom was locked that there was no need for further questions. He would smile when he heard Frodo's muffled and sleepy answer when he knocked. "I haven't seemed to find much sleep last night, Sam. I think I shall sleep in today." Sam would smile and leave and begin work in the garden with a secret smile on his face that only faded when he saw their sorrowful goodbye at the door in the morning. And Sam had also overheard Frodo's attempt at an explanation the last night they saw each other. He recognized the shamed tone Frodo rarely got but also the noble attempt to keep his emotions in check for the lass. He heard her pleading questions, his choked replies. He had told as much truth as he could. Sam felt his eyes spilling over with tears. Frodo had never confided to anyone that all he really wanted was to settle with the lass he loved and fill Bag- End with the laughter of children. But Sam knew.
When they reached the Green Dragon their spirits had lifted generally thanks to Fatty's complaints and Merry's jibes. As they walked in Sam dutifully closed the door behind feeling as if he had locked the cold and silver serenity of the dusk away. The inn was bustling with hobbits, mostly farm lads and gaffers resting and filling their stomachs from the days reaping. There was a fine haze of smoke hovering close in the warm lamplit room and the jumble of voices stirred like a steady hum. Sam could see Rose Cotton behind the bar, cleaning glasses hurriedly, her hair a bit mussed and her apron rather untidy and her cheeks flushed from the bustling she had been doing all night. He smiled wistfully and then followed Frodo to a table. The four settle down, Merry chatting about business in Buckland and urging Frodo to make a visit.
"In good time, cousin," said Frodo. "I have business to attend at Bag-End... I'm..." Frodo leaned back with a heavy sigh and his gaze drifted inwards. Sam recognized the thoughtful look, the painful distance, he leaned forward instinctively. "I'm thinking of selling the place." His voice was nearly trembling and very low and Sam realized it was the first time his master had ever said it out loud.
Merry stopped laughing immediately and bore his eyes into his cousin. "Frodo," he began quietly and in such a serious tone Sam had never heard. The small span of silence was broken when Rose approached smiling and breathless.
"What can I do for you boys?" she said gaily.
"Rather busy tonight, eh lass?" said Fatty, noting her fluster.
"Aye, you boys sure work up some appetite on the farms."
Sam nodded, "It's round that season." Rose smiled at him and his eyes shone before he managed to duck his head causing the lass to blush.
She took a breath and managed to look away from Sam. "Evening, Mr. Frodo," she said rather quietly as he seemed out of sorts that night. But he quickly gathered himself and smiled that dashing grin of a gentlehobbit.
"Good evening, Rose," he said softly. "You're looking fine tonight." He winked.
She blushed deeply and Sam had a complex look of loss on his face. "Oh sir!" she gasped, "It's not fair! Teasing a silly lass so. I look right awful!"
Frodo lowered his lids and raised his eyebrows cunningly. "I believe you are in no place to make such assumptions, my dear." She blushed again and Frodo leaned back with a grin. "Ah but we are starved hobbits and look to you for alleviation of our pains."
She laughed lightly and hit Frodo with her dishrag playfully. "A devil you are, Mr. Baggins!"
He chuckled and Fatty began to list what he wished to order. Rose laughed as she jotted every last thing down and added, once he was finished, "I believe you lads will be needing a bigger table."
"Fatty will eat it as quickly as it is set down, don't you worry," laughed Merry.
Once Rose left Merry made to speak again but Frodo seemed to sense it coming and cut him off. "Sam," whispered Frodo gently. "She's a lass that won't take to half-hearted comments. She's much too fine for that, and you know it. It takes time, gentleness, and sincerity to reach such a golden heart. She's patient and if you are too... you'll be alright." He patted Sam's shoulder kindly. Sam blushed to the tips of his ears and nodded a whispered "Aye, sir," before bowing his head again.
Frodo closed his eyes and took a breath, "And if you are about to bring up Bag-End, Meriadoc Brandybuck, I advise you stop right in your tracks. You are not ruining my birthday with your silly concerns about how I manage my life, cousin. If I am to sell the place it won't be for a number of years and I expect you will accept that as a satisfying response."
"At the moment," answered Merry sternly.
Frodo rolled his eyes, "If you will."
"And what about Miss Lilly. I was rather fond of her. She was an upstanding lass and I know you thought no less, cousin, so I'll know if you lie."
Frodo's voice seemed to rise with anger but quickly quelled it back down. "I'll have no scrutiny tonight." He ground out just under a shout.
"Nor any other night, it seems," sighed Merry. "But I'll crack you yet Baggins, I give you my word." Merry leaned forward with a sly smile and a cunning gleam in his eyes. "One day, Frodo, when you least expect it, when you think that you have me completely fooled and when you think that you've pulled the wool over all our eyes, you'll see how wrong you are! I'll figure you out, Baggins! Because for every secretive Baggins there's a conspiring Brandybuck." Merry snapped his fingers under Frodo's nose and laughed maniacally.
Frodo chuckled. "We'll see, Merry. And just remember that I promised to put you over my knee before tonight is over."
"You should take him seriously, Frodo," warned Fatty. "He's making an ally out of little Pip. Twice the trouble if you ask me."
Frodo beamed at the mention of his youngest cousin. "It's been an age since I've seen that Peregrin, must be quite the sly teen by now. How is the lad?"
"A bloody pain in the arse," muttered Merry.
Rose weaved her way back to the table balancing a tray of ales overflowing with foam. "Here you are lads. The dinners should be coming soon."
"Thank'ee, Rose," smiled Sam with a blush. Her eyes sparkled before she left them to their drinks.
Merry was the first to take a swig and smacked his lips. "Ah now that's an ale!"
Fatty laughed, "I believe we were talking about one Peregrin Took. Lad's nigh my knee and he's already talking like his cousin Merry here, all sass and brass if you ask me."
Frodo laughed, "Oh no! Please say it isn't so."
"He's not like me," growled Merry. "He's a proud little bugger who's too greedy to steal a good pie without being noticed or without burning his tongue. He's always nipping at my heals and chatting his head off like a bloody squirrel." Merry took another drink and then rolled up his sleeve to reveal a small bruise on his forearm with tiny teeth marks crowning it. "Bugger bit me."
Frodo burst into laughter, "Now why would the lad do such a thing?"
"I tried to coax him into sharing a bit of his peach cobbler."
"Oh, Merry," cried Frodo between bouts of laughter. "You tried to steal the boy's dessert?"
"I tried to steal nothing!"
"I told you the two were alike!" roared Fatty.
"Sounds like Merry to me!" laughed Frodo, clinking his mug against Fatty's as both took a swig. Frodo licked the foam from his lips and made a sweet smacking sound. "But I agree with him on this." He shook his mug, "Best ale in the Shire."
Fatty nodded. "Aye that it is. And I bet they'll end up the best of friends, you can mark me on that."
"I will," huffed Merry. "Mark you that is."
Frodo smiled. "I believe so too. They'll be inseparable. Pippin just sees it before our Merry here. You'll teach him to steal properly and then you'll be thick as thieves."
Even Sam laughed at this and all four hobbits drank deeply. None was happier than Fatty when the meals arrived and there was enough to satisfy all four hobbits, even Fatty. Rose came round and topped off their ales every time they seemed lacking and Frodo noted the special attention she was paying their table with a smile. He also noticed how Sam averted his eyes bashfully as she bent over to refill his mug and stumbled over his thanks. Frodo chuckled to himself. Once she left he eyed Sam cunningly.
"Lad, she's a patient lass but she's not ageless. You should quit your bashful ways and show her some of your Gamgee charm."
"Sir..." Sam mumbled.
"Sam," Frodo turned to him seriously and his eyes shone deeply. "There's a certain time when the Spring starts to thaw the Winter frost that you know it's time enough to start planting those little seeds so the flowers can bloom to their fullest. Now I don't know much about how to read the seasons like such an upstanding gardener as yourself..."
"Sir I-"
"Don't interrupt, Samwise," said Frodo sternly before continuing. "But I can feel it just as any hobbit can. When the ground beneath your toes gets a bit softer and begins to churn beneath your step. When the stars are clear and the fireflies just begin to rise. When the air is warm but the breeze is cool and you can taste the sweetness in the air. It's plain hobbit sense."
"Yessir," said Sam rather unsure why they were talking about the planting season at this time.
"You can feel it, Sam, can't you?" Sam saw Frodo's eyes were deep wells of thought, his lips moving with a certain forced purpose. He was accentuating every last point with such sincerity Sam felt as if his master was pressing a divine secret into him that he could not quite grasp yet.
"Yes- yes sir." Sam said slowly.
Frodo bore his gaze into him for a while before turning away and taking a thoughtful sip of his ale. "You will be alright, Sam."
During this conversation Fatty had been picking off the last bits of his mushrooms and smashed potatoes. Merry was gazing over the rim of his mug, taking a scan of the bar. Things had died down a bit and Merry could see over the curly heads a bit. He hid his bitter frown behind his mug as he saw the louse Ted Sandyman nursing what probably was his fifth ale. Merry knew Ted well enough from their scuffles during childhood, one in particular in Sam's defense. The miserable lad was taunting the gardener's son about his inability to read when Frodo intervened and scooped the lad up with promises of reading lessons. That's when he and Fatty had at the snotty creep and his partner in cruelty, Lotho. Merry was no stranger to Ted Sandyman's... charms... and he found himself silently hoping for no trouble on this night. Frodo was so... happy.
Merry turned to his cousin and cleared his throat with a smile. "Shall we give your old drinking song a try, cousin?"
Frodo smiled, his eyes just a little glassy from the ale. "Ah, I see you've been waiting until I had a few ales in me before requesting."
"You are far from drunk," laughed Merry. "Don't try fooling me. I know how you take your ale, after all I've tried and failed against you in far too many drinking games, Mr. Baggins."
"You've gotten better, I see." Frodo indicated towards Merry's glass. "You're not nearly swaying yet. See, I taught you a lesson or two."
At this point Rose came round and topped off the diminishing mugs once more with a smile and a twirl of her skirts. Frodo raised his mug and inclined his head before taking a deep pull on his beer. He smacked his lips again and began, first soft and wistful but then clear and joyful:
The air is cold the cider's warm
A frothing comfort amid the storm
And here again I find an inn
I cock my ear and I begin
To hear the song of lovely lasses
Upon their curved hips deliv'ring glasses!
Of frothing gold foam
Wherever I roam
All ales the Green Dragon surpasses!
All four hobbits raised their glasses with a laugh and continued the song on the tops of their voices, fair and high and full of mirth.
You can dance on the tables at the Golden Perch!
But a restless soul will ever search
For the inn where maids will laugh all night
And a curvy hip all pert and tight
For the ale as gold as Dragon's keep
And plenty barrels full and deep
Tarry not to the Green Dragon lo!
We'll soon return whither we go
Across the hill and wearied plain
Here at the Green Dragon back again!
Frodo's was the strongest voice as he rose to cry out "Back again!" with all of his heart and voice. And indeed his voice was fair as it ever was, his laughter light and clear, his eyes as bright as ever they'd be as he fell back down laughing until his cheeks turned pink and his eyes shone clear as stars and his stomach ached. He was the image of youthful joy, and he seemed to be spared several of his thirty-nine years, maintaining an uncanny boyish charm along with an aged dignity that only Frodo Baggins seemed to carry flawlessly.
It was probably the lightness in the air that hovered amid their mirth or the clear sound of their commingling laughter or the pure joy that twinkled in Frodo's depthless eyes that signaled it. It was probably the kind nature of their laughter or the teasing play of their song that caused it. It really did not matter to Ted Sandyman as his brooding hatred began to focus as best as his muddled mind could on the band of laughing hobbits and then more clearly on Frodo Baggins. Ted hated all of him; his gentlemanly manner, his charming smile, his thoughtful gaze, his clear silver laugh, his annoyingly depthless mirth. What nerve he had pretending to be some sort of normal hobbit despite his obvious eccentricities. He had no place among respectable, common folk and Ted intended to make sure the miserable wretch knew it. If he had any intentions of going off on some crazy adventure like old Mad Bilbo than all the better... maybe Ted could see it along a bit... if Frodo was too happy in the Shire he might never leave. Sandyman smirked and got to his feet unsteadily.
Frodo's laughter was beginning to fade for the sole sake that his stomach was aching so. Sam was chuckling and patting his master on the shoulder as Rose came by again, giggling and refilling their glasses. "Quite a voice all you boys have. How much for another performance?" They laughed again and took a calming pull on their ales.
"You take fine care of us, Rose," smiled Frodo, looking into his mug.
"Is it the ale making you so friendly, cousin?" grinned Merry.
Frodo shook his head, "You just don't know any manners, Mr. Brandybuck."
"Oh Frodo, yes!" Merry burst into laughter. "Yes of course! Your endless manners even when you're drunk as a sod!"
"Beg pardon!" cried Frodo. "You said yourself I am far from-"
Merry leaned forward, still battling back chuckles. "Yes you are far from drunk now, but don't you recall last year at-"
Frodo had instantly thrown himself across the table and clasped a hand over Merry's mouth. Sam and Fatty gazed at him wide eyed with their mouths hanging agape. Frodo's eyes, which had once been glassy with drink and mirth seemed to gain a new intensity. They gleamed a dark warning that even Merry's muddled mind could comprehend with urgency. The entire table stayed poised like that for many long moments and Merry noted with fear that Frodo's lip was twitching slightly, his brows quirked in an expression that seemed to shout "I dare you, Brandybuck!"
Silence hung heavy and even Ted stopped in his tracks for a moment and decided to reconsider his plans. He settled back down on a barstool dazedly and just watched the scene unfold.
After what seemed an eternity, Frodo released his captive and sank back down silently. He lifted his mug without a word and took a sip before setting it back down, folding his hands gently as if such fine appendages were never capable of what they had just done. He twiddled his fingers and quirked a grin, sly next to the innocence of his slender digits. "Where were we... oh yes manners," he chuckled.
Merry scoffed in disdain. "Perhaps my righteous cousin has something to hide?"
Frodo flashed a warning glance at his cousin. "You're a cheeky little prat, always have been."
"I've learned from the best," answered Merry, taking a swig of his ale.
"You're both bloody mad," grumbled Fatty.
"Comes with the surnames," Frodo chuckled raising his ale in a toast. "Woe betide the unknowing hobbit that stumbles upon a Baggins or a Brandybuck..."
"Or a Took!" added Merry for good measure.
"Or a Took," Frodo continued. "Without proper warning."
"I say I've been given proper warning, sir, and ain't been no shocking surprises yet."
Fatty grinned into his ale. "We shall see Master Gamgee. It seems you have been properly warned but have not heeded it."
"And woe betide thee!" laughed Frodo, clinking his mug against Merry's.
And that triggered it.
"If you ask me you have been spreading plenty of woe."
This remark was far from good-natured. Merry fixed a deadly glare on the source of the insult, a wretch of a hobbit, seated on a barstool not twenty feet away. Sam placed down his ale and quickly swallowed his laughter. Frodo's laughter halted but he did not flinch nor turn. His gaze sharpened a bit and Sam wondered at his master's alertness after so many ales.
"I'm talking to you, Baggins, not your gaggle of friends!"
It was then that Frodo turned and fixed a steady gaze on the villain, his jaw set and serious. "I was not aware I was being addressed, Mr. Sandyman. Perhaps in the future, to avoid further confusion, you could hail me by my name. If you so chose to hail me at all."
Ted stood up, swaggering in his confidence. He stepped closer to the table and Sam and Merry seemed to shift closer to Frodo, their eyes steeling and boring into Ted with a stare that could burn through an oak door. Frodo paid them no heed, but he crossed his arms as if expecting a fitting answer.
"I says, if you ask me, Mr. Baggins," the name was spat mockingly in a way that made it seem foul, an insult in itself. "You have been spreading plenty of woe."
"We're not asking you!" shouted Sam who was quickly fixed with the same steady stare that Frodo had held claim to. He shrank back a bit, not quite expecting such a response. "But master he's-"
"Never you mind, Samwise," Frodo whispered and then turned back to Ted. "I'm sorry to hear that Ted, truly it is not my intent. But be that as it may, if it is my mere presence that causes you woe..."
"And it is!" mocked Ted.
Frodo continued as if is sentence were unbroken. "...then the only advice I can give you is steer clear of me when you can or bear your woe silently."
"I got another option," Ted snickered. To punctuate this remark he rolled up his ruddy sleeves.
"I wasn't giving you your options," Frodo said calmly and much gentler. "You do what you wish."
"I will," he smiled such an unsavory smile. Sam sneered bitterly and stood quickly before his master.
"You back one off, Ted. Back one off." Sam felt his fists begin to tremble but he quickly tried to avoid his desire to throttle the sod.
"Stand down, Sam," Frodo whispered harshly. Sam turned quickly to his master and was about to protest but, judging by the cold tone of his master's voice, thought better of it. He sat, grunting unceremoniously, but it was ignored.
Frodo then chose to slide to the side of his chair, placing his feet firmly on the ground and placing his arm on the chair's back. He looked up at Sandyman, leveling him with his eyes.
"A grown hobbit now, Master of Bag-End!" Ted announced. "Though not deserving of the title." He narrowed his eyes and snorted haughtily. Frodo suppressed a grimace of disgust. "Tell me, do you still have your friends fight your own fights?"
Frodo's eyes narrowed and he leaned back dismissively. "Are you still hot about what happened when you were a child?"
"And you were a tween, very mature behavior for a tween," spat Ted.
Frodo cocked his head and raised his eyebrows as if expecting something to dawn on Ted. It apparently didn't and Frodo sighed, "That's why I didn't trounce your misbehaving arse. I was a tween and throttling little hobbit lads, no matter how cruel they were being to other little hobbit lads, was not on my agenda at the time."
"So we trounced him!" roared Merry. Fatty quickly joined him in raucous laughter. Ted turned crimson and his eyes seethed. Frodo turned quickly and shot a dark glare at them, the same warning glance he had given to Merry before. They slowly quieted and Frodo turned back to Ted.
"What is it you want from me, Ted?" Frodo sighed sounding uncommonly weary.
With shocking accuracy Ted landed his fist squarely on Frodo's jaw and Frodo reeled back into Sam, his hands flying to his wounded mouth. There was a loud clatter as both Merry and Fatty shot to their feet and the inn went dead silent, save for Sam's violent curses. He caught his master and steadied him again before rolling up his sleeves and clamouring to his feet in fury. He was pushing his way out from the table and Ted took a step back but Sam barely got free when Frodo regained his speech.
"Stand down, Sam!" This time Frodo did shout and it would have been loud and firm save that it was muffled by his hands and laced with pain. Sam turned to his master and saw that Frodo was clenching his eyes shut in pain, holding his hands to his jaw. Slowly Frodo moved his hands. All eyes seemed to be on him, even Merry and Fatty seemed to forget their bloodlust and watched as Frodo lifted his head and wiped a streak of blood across his cheek that appeared to originate at his lip. His eyes were shining with tears but focused clearly and intensely upon his attacker. And there was anger.
At seeing the damage to his cousin Merry nearly threw himself across the table with the force of his oath. "Damn it, Ted!"
"You bloody brute," ground out Sam, harsh and ragged. It was not a shout but it was dripping with contempt.
Ted smirked satisfyingly, seeing that Frodo was holding his servant back. So the paunchy gentlehobbit wasn't about to stand a fight? Perhaps he thought he was above it, that it was noble to take his lumps and stand quietly? Bah, weakling!
Sam's eyes blazed to see the smug smile form on those wretched lips. He leapt forward and Ted sprung back surprised and before Sam could advance again there was a hand on his shoulder, a strong unyielding grasp that almost hurt. He turned and looked into the infuriated eyes of his master, his mouth set in a grim sneer, a small rivulet of blood traveling down his jaw. "I said, Stand down, Sam." His voice was almost cold and Sam felt a shiver. As Frodo spoke Sam could see his teeth were tinged pink with blood. "That's an order."
Sam felt his throat constrict. He loved his master, truly. And though he attempted to be an obedient and loyal servant he admired his master for never treating him as such. Frodo never really gave him orders, rarely asked anything of him, gave him more than a fair pay for his duties, and often made idle chat with him never once seeming to mind Sam's uneducated speech. Frodo had even begun his reading lessons with Bilbo to save him from Ted's condescending bullying. And now, when Sam had a chance to defend his master from the same, things seemed horribly wrong.
Frodo continued to clasp Sam's shoulder, though his gaze had softened, he remained set on his order. Sam lifted his head and took a breath. "Sir, I've never disobeyed you before, but you told me to speak my mind and my mind I'll speak! That foul rot's hit you and mighty hard and I won't brook it, sir!"
Frodo simply continued to stare at Sam with that leveling glance that made its victims' legs weak. Sam's lip trembled a moment and then he sat back down slowly. "If I see any bit of trouble sir...!"
"Very well, Sam. I don't want any more violence."
Sam huffed loudly and Fatty leaned over to him. "Calm yourself a bit, lad. Your master won't be helped by your hot head."
Frodo turned from his friends and walked slowly towards Ted. Sam saw that Ted stood straight again, a smug grin adorning the lout's brutish features. He swaggered with confidence as he took a step and stood straighter, squaring his shoulders and looking down at Frodo, who was not very much shorter than him. Frodo sighed wearily and took a last step, seemingly unwittingly in Ted's arm reach.
"Ted, I want you to remember this."
Ted sized up Frodo with a sneer and...
Swiftly, silently Frodo planted his steady fist straight into Ted's stomach. "You threw the first punch." Ted doubled over in agony and Frodo took the opportunity to drive his fist into his opponent's jaw, causing him to fall soundly onto the floor with a satisfying thud.
Sam stood again but in sheer amazement. His jaw hung agape and he heard Fatty beside him shout, "Well bloody hell!" with a whoop and a laugh. Merry chuckled as he watched Ted sink to the ground at Frodo's feet.
Merry cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted above the din of murmurs. "I thought you said you didn't want any more violence, cousin!"
Frodo was silent for a moment, his shoulders flexing slightly as he crossed his arms and eyed Ted's groaning form. "I didn't want it," replied Frodo coldly. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't resort to it if needed."
Frodo knew better than to turn his back on Ted. He stood, immovable, as if he had been carved of stone. His eyes were dark and boring into the heap of hobbit before him. Grunts and curses emanated from the pitiful form as he staggered slowly and unsteadily to his feet. Before he had a chance to steady himself his anger leapt ahead of him and he swung his fist in Frodo's direction. Frodo backed off a step but the blow still caught his stomach painfully. Ted swayed and almost fell again and looked about dazedly, hoping his fist met its mark.
Frodo clenched his teeth against the pain in his gut and charged into Ted. He caught the villain around the waist and barreled him into another table. The hobbits at the table were three old gaffers that were very distressed about the loss of their ales as the mugs toppled to the floor.
Ted's eyes bulged wide as Frodo threw all of his weight into his soft gut. Ale poured down and soaked the table and both hobbits. Frodo shifted his weight atop the writhing hobbit, who was quickly about to gain advantage unless Frodo did something quick. He dug his knee just below Ted's ribcage and received a howl in his ear. Satisfied with the result. Frodo rolled himself off the beer-soaked tabletop and gave Ted a shove as well. He once again toppled to the floor in a heap. But Frodo did not leave him this time.
He bent and snatched Ted's ear between his fingers, locking his grip and giving a hard pull. Ted stumbled to his feet for sake of saving his ear but was only rewarded with another reeling punch to his jaw. Ted groaned loudly but would not tolerate this humiliation. He let himself fall right into Frodo bringing the lithe hobbit to the ground and throwing all of his weight onto him.
Frodo gasped as the air surged from his lungs, beating his fists against his oppressor. Ted chuckled between his groans until another knee in his ribs interrupted his mirth. Frodo's lithe muscles bulled taut beneath his fine linen shirt. They shifted to get leverage between the ground and Ted and he nearly lifted the brute into the air. Frodo rolled him off, gasping for breath as he staggered to his feet.
Sam, Merry, and Fatty all stood but Frodo waved them down and shot a glare in their direction. He reeled around quickly, fist clenched steadily, catching Ted as he was attempting to stand and throwing him back with the force of the blow. Sandyman was thrown against another table with great force, knocking the mugs of ale down to shower over him, drenching him completely before he slumped over and succumbed to pain and drink induced slumber.
Frodo heaved a great sigh and reached deep into his pocket. He placed a few gold coins on the offended tables in recompense for their lost ales. One of the lads patted him on the back and whooped, "Good show, Frodo, old boy!" Frodo winced slightly and smiled wanly. The three old gaffers just shook their heads and pointed the end of their pipes at him. "Trouble always seems to find you, young Master Baggins."
Frodo sighed heavily, "Yes it seems that it does."
He returned to his seat and smiled at his friends. Merry was attempting to stifle laughter but Fatty was evidently making no such endeavor. Sam closed his mouth, which had been hanging open during most of the fight.
"I have a lot to learn about Bagginses," thought Sam.
Though his mouth was properly closed Sam was unable to stop staring dumbly. Frodo grinned at him and patted his shoulder. "I hope to never need to order you again Sam," he said good-naturedly.
Sam opened and closed his mouth for a few moments before deciding on what to say. "Oh sir I... If I'd a' known I would... that is to say I wouldn't a'... Oh sir but you throttled the lout!"
Frodo chuckled almost sympathetically. "What Sam? Not expecting such from a... lamb-lad?"
Merry instantly choked on his ale and Fatty gaped at Frodo, completely dumbstruck. Frodo raised an eyebrow and cast an amused look in their direction. There was an uneasy silence as Sam began to snicker in a rather uncharacteristic way. Frodo crossed his arms but did not manage to keep the mischievous grin from his face. Fatty blinked stupidly, wondering exactly what was expected. Merry was wiping the ale from his lips, his mug hovering in his grasp.
Quicker than a striking snake Frodo had snatched Merry by the shoulders and hoisted him over his knee, securing him down by leaning forward onto his elbows. Merry had not the time to blink never mind fight back. Frodo laughed contentedly with a delicious grin gracing his features. "I told you I'd put you over my knee you impertinent little sod of a Brandybuck!"
Merry's face turned completely red and the blustered for a while as he attempted to squirm out from under Frodo's surprisingly iron grasp. "What... Why you...! How dare you, you bloody...! Pompous... arrogant.... you... you... Baggins! Let me go you great hulking lout!"
Frodo chuckled, "Great? Hulking? Lout? Why what ever happened to lamb-lad?"
Merry tried to lift his torso slightly but the odd angle only made him look more comical in his futile attempts for dignity. He crossed his arms and huffed furiously. "You, cousin, are an ass!" And he promptly began to thrash again.
"Do you think me so base?" cried Frodo, feigning hurt. "Oh that cuts me deeply, cousin, oh so deeply!"
"Let me go you great lummox!"
"Me? Thin, lithe, fragile, bookish Mr. Baggins? Why, Merry, you just aren't trying hard enough."
Merry just growled, running out of insults he began to fight with all of his might, but with Frodo pressing all of his weight against his poor stomach it was all he could do to breathe properly.
"Come now cousin use your imagina- OW! Bloody damn!"
Merry had sunk his teeth deeply into Frodo's calf and then scrambled out of his grasp triumphantly. He sprawled onto the floor and immediately shot to his feet with a victorious grin.
"I see he's learned a trick or two from little Peregrin!" laughed Fatty.
Merry cackled maniacally and smacked his lips. "Mmmm! I love lamb!"
"Oh you're a prick, Merry!" cried Frodo leaping onto his cousin in an all out brawl. Merry promptly grasped a handful of Frodo's hair as they both toppled backwards. Frodo was pinned to the floor instantly, his hair still in Merry's grasp. "I shall have retribution you fink of a Brandybuck!"
"Come now cousin," and Merry placed a messy kiss on Frodo's brow. "Admit you love me and your wild Brandybuck side."
"Alas it is the evil in me!" cried Frodo dramatically. "Someone help! I do believe it is taking over. Yes it is compelling me to be a prick!" With that he slammed his knee forcefully against Merry's chest and the grasp on his hair instantly released. Now the tables had turned and Frodo was sitting quite happily on top of Merry, grinning widely with a wild light in his eyes. He knit his brows and widened his eyes, attempting to twitch one of his lower eyelids to look as insane as possible. He laughed a wicked laugh.
"He's gone over the edge!" cried Sam between bouts of laughter.
"I'm a Brandybuck!" laughed Frodo. "A Brandybuck I am!" And he promptly commenced to tickling his victim.
By now all the heads in the Green Dragon were turned towards the commotion. Some clucking their tongues in disapproval and mutterings of the eccentric ways of Bagginses would be heard to peak among the rise and fall of voices. The old gaffers and gammers just shook their heads and rolled their eyes while many of the younger lads began to woot and howl. Others, in true hobbit fashion, simply attempted to ignore it.
"Oh, please stop this!" cried Rose as she ran over to the corner. "Two brawls in one night, a girl cannot take it all."
It seemed her please fell on deaf ears as both cousins continued to bicker. Frodo tickled Merry mercilessly and Merry reached up and pinched Frodo's nose until his eyes teared. It was Sam that heard Rose's please and stepped forward to break up the cousins. It was then that Frodo and Merry chose to continue their battle standing. Frodo grasped his cousin's shoulder and swung him sideways, inadvertently throwing Sam against the wall none-too- gently. Merry refused to let go and Frodo was pulled right along with him as they backed straight into Rose.
Fatty roared with laughter to see the comedy unfold before his eyes. It was as the two battling hobbits were running into Rose that Fatty noticed their attentions were not obsessed with the battle at all. Frodo was watching his feet, guiding them cunningly, as Merry steered them both into Rose. "Why those sneaky, treacherous, conniving... hobbits!" thought Fatty.
And Rose was roughly pushed squarely into Sam's arms. They stared at each other dumbly, Sam afraid to move a single digit and Rose pressing against him as not to fall. The two brawling hobbits slammed into her again, careful that it was not too violently, and this time knocking her forward so her lips brushed against Sam's... chin. Close enough.
Her hair was disheveled, random strands poking wildly from her messy bun and falling into her face. Her blouse was stained here and there and Sam could think of nothing except how beautiful she was. Sam himself was still a bit mussed with dirt from the garden but she could not tear her eyes from him. He choked on a few words and then fell silent as he felt her take a breath, her body pressing closer against him. Timidly he placed his arms on her shoulders, their eyes never breaking each other's gaze.
After that endless moment Sam realized he was not breathing and took a deep sigh. That broke the spell. He moved Rose gently to the side and stood in front of her protectively. But as he was about to scold his master and that Brandybuck he turned to see them frozen still, Frodo on top of Merry, poised in their faux fight. They stared at each other for another long moment and finally both Baggins and Brandybuck began to chuckle. Merry grasped Frodo's face and placed another silly kiss, this time on the side of his face. This launched them all into laughter. "We warned you Sam Gamgee!" cried Frodo. "We warned you!"
Oh and the song is all mine! Yes my attempt at making a believable Hobbit drinking song ^^
~~~
Birthdays at the Green Dragon
Young Sam Gamgee looked up for the first time in hours from his tedious duties about Bag-End. He had trimmed the hedges precisely and coaxed the new blooms to life with a few delightful sprits and sprays from the watering can. It had been very hot lately (queer for that time of September) and it was not good to let the fair petals become too dry, as they had wont to fade and shrivel. Then came the weeding, and Sam, being Sam, took this duty with special care as at this time of year weeds had woven their thick roots about the ones of the flowers. Now the tools were neatly away, for Sam would not have it otherwise, and the shed was properly cleaned, and the dust he had worked up was swept from the path and porch step. Indeed only then did the lad notice that the sky had grown pale with gold and lavender and the edges of the horizon blazed like fire.
"I reckon Master Frodo will be right proud of this job," smiled Sam as he swept away the last bits of dust. "Though I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since I roused him this morning. It's not like Mr. Frodo, to be cooping himself in all day, that it isn't." Sam paused for a moment. "Right queer," he thought as he found the broom's proper place and dusted himself off so that he was respectable enough to enter Bag-End.
Sam found his way quietly to the kitchen and saw his master's back to him. Frodo raised a glass, half full of wine, towards the window. He bowed his head slightly and murmured almost to himself, "Happy Birthday, cousin." He quickly drained the glass and set it on the table.
"Mr. Frodo?" ventured the young gardener.
"Hoy now!" Frodo cried but quickly began to chuckle. "Dear Sam! Pray you ought not scare an old hobbit so."
"I'm sorry sir," Sam stuttered shamefully.
Frodo waved a hand. "All's well, Samwise. I did not mean to seem harsh. I'm sure you supposed I'd hear you but one's thoughts can seem louder than the patter of hobbit lads behind them."
"It's old Master Bilbo's birthday, I reckon sir? My it's been a while but bless me that means it's your birthday too sir!"
Frodo smiled, "That it is. And I'm afraid that means the misguided doings of one highly spirited Brandybuck will once again plague Hobbiton."
Sam chuckled. "Will Fatty be coming too this time sir?"
"Yes Sam, twice the mischief to clear the dust out of my head." Frodo chuckled. "I need it too. I ought not bury myself as I do, but being Master of Bag-End is rather troublesome. It is pleasant to indulge with the rapscallions for one night a year at least."
"Right you are sir!" laughed Sam. "Why that's why I was coming in. Haven't seen a stitch of you all day and I was about to drag you out by your ear myself, begging your pardon sir. It's not healthy."
"Well then perhaps you should accompany us. I think you're old enough for a night of devilry, though..." and at this Frodo's eyes shone with a cunning light that Sam knew all too well. "Though I hate to be the one to corrupt you, lad."
Sam tried hard not to burst into laughter. "Aye sir but I don't think you'll be corrupting me."
"I've warned you lad. It is crucial that you take precautionary measures when dealing with Bagginses and Brandybucks. Now off with you lad! Get your coat and tell your Gaffer that I absolutely demand your presence on the account of my birthday!"
"Right sir!" And Sam was off down the road towards Number 3 Bagshot Row.
Frodo smiled, his eyes gleaming with mirth at the thoughts of the night ahead. He chuckled slightly at seeing the door swing open a crack. Because of Sam's delight and eagerness he had forgotten to make sure the latch fell in place. Frodo stepped out onto the porch and felt the cool air fly about him, brushing the sweep of curls from his neck and the locks from his bright eyes. The garden was glimmering with silver beads, from Sam's watering, and the setting sun brought out the flames in the tiger lilies. A smile curved up Frodo's lips and his cheeks shone with the rosy hue that was customary for most hobbits. His voice rose with laughter as he heard the clamour of a cart coming up the road. The Brandybuck and Bolger had arrived.
Frodo stepped onto this porch and took a breath, reveling in the last few moments of silent tranquility he'd know for the rest of the night. Then he burst forward laughing like a lad again, about to see a favorite relative. The cart pulled to a halt and a flaxen haired hobbit sprung from the seat and sang proudly the last lines of a song he obviously had been singing along the road.
Listen to the song of lovely lasses
Upon their curved hips deliv'ring glasses!
Frodo chimed in:
Of frothing gold foam
Wherever I roam
All ales the Green Dragon surpasses!
"One of my favorites, cousin!" cried Frodo embracing the Brandybuck. "But you do butcher my rhyming so! Let's have at it again, the whole thing, once we reach the tavern."
"I believe it is your own prose that is dreadful and not my singing. And let's strike up the tune after you've had a few in you and see how fine and fair Mr. Baggins shall sound." Meriadoc Brandybuck smirked, tossing the hair from his face and winking toward Fatty. The rounder hobbit chuckled heartily and tied the ponies.
"Fredegar," laughed Frodo, slinging an arm about Merry's shoulder. Merry got the deepest suspicion that Frodo had done so to prevent any means of escape. Frodo continued, speaking fairly loudly. "How then fares your sister after our dear Merry here had just a bit too many our last outing!"
Fredegar fixed a glare upon both Baggins and Brandybuck and the color seemed to slowly drain out of Merry's face and flushed straight into Frodo's as the latter burst into laughter.
Fatty smiled cunningly, "You were quite lucky, Brandybuck, that I got between you two in time. The next day you might have been looking at a marriage or a funeral."
"You act like both are equally dreadful fates," muttered Merry.
"An honourable Brandybuck," said Frodo followed by a few moments of silence as both Frodo and Fatty attempted to keep a straight face. All dying in vain as both nearly collapsed to the ground laughing. Merry grumbled as Fatty pounded his thighs and Frodo put his hand to his knees and leaned forward to keep from falling.
"It seems I've missed the fun already, sir."
All three turned to see Sam Gamgee coming up the road. Frodo made an attempt to quell his laughter and took a deep breath. "Sam will be joining the festivities for tonight. I believe you've all met."
Merry smiled, regaining some of his color. "Hello Sam," he hailed. "I hope Frodo has given you warning about the night of havoc that is yet to be."
"Good warning, Master Merry. But I'm afraid it's only made me curiouser as to what might happen, sir."
Both Merry and Frodo's eyes twinkled in a sly manner that proved to any who might be passing that they were close kin. "You'll regret it lad."
There came a rough grumble from Fatty. "You lads can chat and give warning all you may like but I've come a long way and my stomach is quite empty. To the tavern now, the best in Hobbiton, if you little-lamb-lads," and to punctuate this insult he gave Frodo's relatively thin stomach a jab, "from Hobbiton can fill me I'll be quite impressed."
"Lamb-lad!" huffed Frodo indignantly. "Surely I'm not so well endowed with a properly cushioned stomach such as yourself, Fredegar, but I'm hale and hearty as any hobbit!"
Sam suppressed a giggle at his master's expense. "I try and feed him best I can, Mr. Fredegar."
"Quite an insult to the extraordinary cooking of young Samwise here," Frodo began.
"Insult to my cooking, sir, or your appetite. I see no fault with my platter."
"Samwise!" Frodo cried, taken off guard by Sam's casual manner.
"There's a lad!" laughed Merry. "As we can all see Frodo here is just sweet as a lamb!" He leaned over and grabbed Frodo's cheek between his fingers. "Fine and fair as any as well."
Frodo turned red and slapped his cousin's hand away. "I advise you to have some respect for your elders. And on my birthday as well. I ought to box those ears and put you over my knee!"
"I'd like to see you try, cousin."
Frodo huffed and reached to snatch Merry's ear. "Tut-tut cousin!" laughed Merry as he dodged Frodo's hand. "You'll have to be a bit quicker, you old gaffer."
"Enough!" bellowed Fatty, looking none the less than put out. "Before I drag you both to the inn by your ears. I'm starved!"
"No respect," Frodo grumbled.
Sam smiled. "The Green Dragon should suit your needs, Mr. Fredegar. The beer is thick and hearty and the food no less so. Proper for any hobbit."
"Then away! To the Green Dragon!" and Fatty marched stoutly down the road. Merry grinned and strode proudly after him. Frodo made an attempt to cast away his blushing indignation and received a shy grin from Sam.
"I'm sorry to have been forthright, sir."
"Quite alright, Sam." Frodo put a hand on Sam's shoulder and grinned back good-naturedly. "Feel free to speak your mind tonight."
"Right sir." Sam nodded a bit doubtfully.
~~~
The four traveled down the road and reached the center of town as the silvery autumn night swept over Hobbiton. Things were quiet as was the wont for that time of year. The nights were cool and most hobbits went out on their porches after second dinner for a pipe and a quiet sit. Young hobbit children burst from their doors and scurried after the fireflies that began to rise from the cool grass and twinkle like hovering stars. Sam saw a hobbit lad lighting the street lamps and recognized him as Nibs, Rose's youngest brother. As the four hobbits continued their merry conversation Sam took time to greet the young boy.
"Allo sir," replied Nibs throwing down his hood. "Fine night it is. Are you off to the Green Dragon then?"
"Yes, Nibs," said Sam.
Frodo smiled. "Would your sister be working tonight then, lad?"
Sam blushed a bit. "Yes sir, Master Baggins," answered Nibs. "She'll be right glad to see you and Master Sam. She won't stop complainin' round the smial that she don't get to see you fine Hobbiton lads enough. Specially Sam..." The lad blushed slightly realizing he gave away a bit of private information.
Frodo's eyes shone but Sam looked away bashfully. "Really then? Well I wish you a fare night, young Master Cotton."
The little lad blushed at the formal use of his name. "Y-yes sir. And I wish ye merry sir."
Frodo and Sam turned to continue on their way as Nibs finished lighting the last few of the street lamps. Merry and Fatty had traveled on a ways, probably because of Fatty's desperate need for food. But Merry did not seem so eager for he stopped to speak to Mistress Holbody, though it'd be more appropriate to say she stopped him to inquire what his business was in Hobbiton. It did not take long for Frodo and Sam to catch up and Fatty was making quite a display of groaning and sighing behind them. Frodo smiled at one of Hobbiton's newest mothers as she cradled her sleeping son.
"Good evening, Mrs. Holbody," Frodo bowed. "Quite a jewel you've got there."
"My dearest treasure, sir. Would you like to hold him then?"
Merry Fatty and Sam gazed at Frodo intently and silent. Frodo seemed to be taken a little off guard but acquiesced whole-heartedly. "Might I, ma'am?" he whispered, gazing at the child reverently. Sam noted that for the first time in his life he had heard his master sound almost childish. As the little bundle was placed in Frodo's arms they seemed immediately to adjust to the child, supporting his head flawlessly, pressing him with the softest gentleness against the warmth of his breast. Frodo's bright eyes shone deep and thoughtful, fixed only on the sleeping face of the child. Frodo's lips were slightly parted, awestruck and silent, as if this great master of words could find no breath to speak nor prose to articulate any response to what he was thinking. But Sam saw what he was thinking simply through the sad shimmer of his fathomless gaze. "He's so lovely," Frodo finally uttered before reluctantly handing him back to his mother.
"Aye sir," beamed the mother proudly. "You'll be such a wonder, Master Baggins, once you settle down and have a brood of your own."
But at these words Frodo tensed as if he was abruptly struck across the face. A grimace shuddered across his features and bitterness seemed to swell up within his trembling bosom. He fought to speak. "I suppose," he ground out. "But I have no right to- to impede upon some fine lass the... strange ways of an old Baggins." He fought to smile. Mrs. Holbody seemed to sense his distress.
"Don't tell me you haven't been looking, sir. I've seen you courting that dear Lilly Fairwater a few years ago. Whatever happened?"
Frodo's eyes darkened. "I believe, madam, that I am not at liberty to speak of such things. It's only proper to keep one's private life to oneself and I'm afraid the name of Mad Baggins is spoken enough by other tongues than my own, so I need not contribute." Frodo turned away and took a slight breath. He shoved his hands in his pockets and seemed to be searching for something. "You've heard the rumors, my lady, and you know the strange ways of Bagginses." He feigned a good-humoured chuckle. "Wouldn't want any upstanding lass tracking me on my queer adventures. It would not be proper, nor fair to her."
Mrs. Holbody stared at him for a while until Merry decided to intervene. "My fine lady! I'm afraid it seems to be getting late and we wish to celebrate my cousin's birthday before it is over."
The lady hobbit startled a moment. "Oh! It is your birthday then. Well many happy birthdays to you, Master Baggins. I wish you a good night."
"Good night, Mrs. Holbody," Frodo again bowed in a mannerly farewell.
The rest of the way to the Green Dragon was traveled in relative silence. Sam was thinking far too much to be guiding his own feet along the road but found it easy to just instinctively follow the others. He had known about Frodo's courting Miss Fairwater and he had also a few theories on why it had ended. Frodo would leave Bag-End one day, because of that thing in his pocket, and he did not want to leave an expectant lass behind, waiting for a love that Frodo thought might never return. Sam silently cursed his master's selflessness. He was making himself suffer twice as much then, by taking the burden from another. He loved Lilly, Sam knew that all to well. He knew the light in Frodo's eyes when her name was mentioned. He knew the sighs that Frodo was prone too when she had his company. He also knew that when the door to the master bedroom was locked that there was no need for further questions. He would smile when he heard Frodo's muffled and sleepy answer when he knocked. "I haven't seemed to find much sleep last night, Sam. I think I shall sleep in today." Sam would smile and leave and begin work in the garden with a secret smile on his face that only faded when he saw their sorrowful goodbye at the door in the morning. And Sam had also overheard Frodo's attempt at an explanation the last night they saw each other. He recognized the shamed tone Frodo rarely got but also the noble attempt to keep his emotions in check for the lass. He heard her pleading questions, his choked replies. He had told as much truth as he could. Sam felt his eyes spilling over with tears. Frodo had never confided to anyone that all he really wanted was to settle with the lass he loved and fill Bag- End with the laughter of children. But Sam knew.
When they reached the Green Dragon their spirits had lifted generally thanks to Fatty's complaints and Merry's jibes. As they walked in Sam dutifully closed the door behind feeling as if he had locked the cold and silver serenity of the dusk away. The inn was bustling with hobbits, mostly farm lads and gaffers resting and filling their stomachs from the days reaping. There was a fine haze of smoke hovering close in the warm lamplit room and the jumble of voices stirred like a steady hum. Sam could see Rose Cotton behind the bar, cleaning glasses hurriedly, her hair a bit mussed and her apron rather untidy and her cheeks flushed from the bustling she had been doing all night. He smiled wistfully and then followed Frodo to a table. The four settle down, Merry chatting about business in Buckland and urging Frodo to make a visit.
"In good time, cousin," said Frodo. "I have business to attend at Bag-End... I'm..." Frodo leaned back with a heavy sigh and his gaze drifted inwards. Sam recognized the thoughtful look, the painful distance, he leaned forward instinctively. "I'm thinking of selling the place." His voice was nearly trembling and very low and Sam realized it was the first time his master had ever said it out loud.
Merry stopped laughing immediately and bore his eyes into his cousin. "Frodo," he began quietly and in such a serious tone Sam had never heard. The small span of silence was broken when Rose approached smiling and breathless.
"What can I do for you boys?" she said gaily.
"Rather busy tonight, eh lass?" said Fatty, noting her fluster.
"Aye, you boys sure work up some appetite on the farms."
Sam nodded, "It's round that season." Rose smiled at him and his eyes shone before he managed to duck his head causing the lass to blush.
She took a breath and managed to look away from Sam. "Evening, Mr. Frodo," she said rather quietly as he seemed out of sorts that night. But he quickly gathered himself and smiled that dashing grin of a gentlehobbit.
"Good evening, Rose," he said softly. "You're looking fine tonight." He winked.
She blushed deeply and Sam had a complex look of loss on his face. "Oh sir!" she gasped, "It's not fair! Teasing a silly lass so. I look right awful!"
Frodo lowered his lids and raised his eyebrows cunningly. "I believe you are in no place to make such assumptions, my dear." She blushed again and Frodo leaned back with a grin. "Ah but we are starved hobbits and look to you for alleviation of our pains."
She laughed lightly and hit Frodo with her dishrag playfully. "A devil you are, Mr. Baggins!"
He chuckled and Fatty began to list what he wished to order. Rose laughed as she jotted every last thing down and added, once he was finished, "I believe you lads will be needing a bigger table."
"Fatty will eat it as quickly as it is set down, don't you worry," laughed Merry.
Once Rose left Merry made to speak again but Frodo seemed to sense it coming and cut him off. "Sam," whispered Frodo gently. "She's a lass that won't take to half-hearted comments. She's much too fine for that, and you know it. It takes time, gentleness, and sincerity to reach such a golden heart. She's patient and if you are too... you'll be alright." He patted Sam's shoulder kindly. Sam blushed to the tips of his ears and nodded a whispered "Aye, sir," before bowing his head again.
Frodo closed his eyes and took a breath, "And if you are about to bring up Bag-End, Meriadoc Brandybuck, I advise you stop right in your tracks. You are not ruining my birthday with your silly concerns about how I manage my life, cousin. If I am to sell the place it won't be for a number of years and I expect you will accept that as a satisfying response."
"At the moment," answered Merry sternly.
Frodo rolled his eyes, "If you will."
"And what about Miss Lilly. I was rather fond of her. She was an upstanding lass and I know you thought no less, cousin, so I'll know if you lie."
Frodo's voice seemed to rise with anger but quickly quelled it back down. "I'll have no scrutiny tonight." He ground out just under a shout.
"Nor any other night, it seems," sighed Merry. "But I'll crack you yet Baggins, I give you my word." Merry leaned forward with a sly smile and a cunning gleam in his eyes. "One day, Frodo, when you least expect it, when you think that you have me completely fooled and when you think that you've pulled the wool over all our eyes, you'll see how wrong you are! I'll figure you out, Baggins! Because for every secretive Baggins there's a conspiring Brandybuck." Merry snapped his fingers under Frodo's nose and laughed maniacally.
Frodo chuckled. "We'll see, Merry. And just remember that I promised to put you over my knee before tonight is over."
"You should take him seriously, Frodo," warned Fatty. "He's making an ally out of little Pip. Twice the trouble if you ask me."
Frodo beamed at the mention of his youngest cousin. "It's been an age since I've seen that Peregrin, must be quite the sly teen by now. How is the lad?"
"A bloody pain in the arse," muttered Merry.
Rose weaved her way back to the table balancing a tray of ales overflowing with foam. "Here you are lads. The dinners should be coming soon."
"Thank'ee, Rose," smiled Sam with a blush. Her eyes sparkled before she left them to their drinks.
Merry was the first to take a swig and smacked his lips. "Ah now that's an ale!"
Fatty laughed, "I believe we were talking about one Peregrin Took. Lad's nigh my knee and he's already talking like his cousin Merry here, all sass and brass if you ask me."
Frodo laughed, "Oh no! Please say it isn't so."
"He's not like me," growled Merry. "He's a proud little bugger who's too greedy to steal a good pie without being noticed or without burning his tongue. He's always nipping at my heals and chatting his head off like a bloody squirrel." Merry took another drink and then rolled up his sleeve to reveal a small bruise on his forearm with tiny teeth marks crowning it. "Bugger bit me."
Frodo burst into laughter, "Now why would the lad do such a thing?"
"I tried to coax him into sharing a bit of his peach cobbler."
"Oh, Merry," cried Frodo between bouts of laughter. "You tried to steal the boy's dessert?"
"I tried to steal nothing!"
"I told you the two were alike!" roared Fatty.
"Sounds like Merry to me!" laughed Frodo, clinking his mug against Fatty's as both took a swig. Frodo licked the foam from his lips and made a sweet smacking sound. "But I agree with him on this." He shook his mug, "Best ale in the Shire."
Fatty nodded. "Aye that it is. And I bet they'll end up the best of friends, you can mark me on that."
"I will," huffed Merry. "Mark you that is."
Frodo smiled. "I believe so too. They'll be inseparable. Pippin just sees it before our Merry here. You'll teach him to steal properly and then you'll be thick as thieves."
Even Sam laughed at this and all four hobbits drank deeply. None was happier than Fatty when the meals arrived and there was enough to satisfy all four hobbits, even Fatty. Rose came round and topped off their ales every time they seemed lacking and Frodo noted the special attention she was paying their table with a smile. He also noticed how Sam averted his eyes bashfully as she bent over to refill his mug and stumbled over his thanks. Frodo chuckled to himself. Once she left he eyed Sam cunningly.
"Lad, she's a patient lass but she's not ageless. You should quit your bashful ways and show her some of your Gamgee charm."
"Sir..." Sam mumbled.
"Sam," Frodo turned to him seriously and his eyes shone deeply. "There's a certain time when the Spring starts to thaw the Winter frost that you know it's time enough to start planting those little seeds so the flowers can bloom to their fullest. Now I don't know much about how to read the seasons like such an upstanding gardener as yourself..."
"Sir I-"
"Don't interrupt, Samwise," said Frodo sternly before continuing. "But I can feel it just as any hobbit can. When the ground beneath your toes gets a bit softer and begins to churn beneath your step. When the stars are clear and the fireflies just begin to rise. When the air is warm but the breeze is cool and you can taste the sweetness in the air. It's plain hobbit sense."
"Yessir," said Sam rather unsure why they were talking about the planting season at this time.
"You can feel it, Sam, can't you?" Sam saw Frodo's eyes were deep wells of thought, his lips moving with a certain forced purpose. He was accentuating every last point with such sincerity Sam felt as if his master was pressing a divine secret into him that he could not quite grasp yet.
"Yes- yes sir." Sam said slowly.
Frodo bore his gaze into him for a while before turning away and taking a thoughtful sip of his ale. "You will be alright, Sam."
During this conversation Fatty had been picking off the last bits of his mushrooms and smashed potatoes. Merry was gazing over the rim of his mug, taking a scan of the bar. Things had died down a bit and Merry could see over the curly heads a bit. He hid his bitter frown behind his mug as he saw the louse Ted Sandyman nursing what probably was his fifth ale. Merry knew Ted well enough from their scuffles during childhood, one in particular in Sam's defense. The miserable lad was taunting the gardener's son about his inability to read when Frodo intervened and scooped the lad up with promises of reading lessons. That's when he and Fatty had at the snotty creep and his partner in cruelty, Lotho. Merry was no stranger to Ted Sandyman's... charms... and he found himself silently hoping for no trouble on this night. Frodo was so... happy.
Merry turned to his cousin and cleared his throat with a smile. "Shall we give your old drinking song a try, cousin?"
Frodo smiled, his eyes just a little glassy from the ale. "Ah, I see you've been waiting until I had a few ales in me before requesting."
"You are far from drunk," laughed Merry. "Don't try fooling me. I know how you take your ale, after all I've tried and failed against you in far too many drinking games, Mr. Baggins."
"You've gotten better, I see." Frodo indicated towards Merry's glass. "You're not nearly swaying yet. See, I taught you a lesson or two."
At this point Rose came round and topped off the diminishing mugs once more with a smile and a twirl of her skirts. Frodo raised his mug and inclined his head before taking a deep pull on his beer. He smacked his lips again and began, first soft and wistful but then clear and joyful:
The air is cold the cider's warm
A frothing comfort amid the storm
And here again I find an inn
I cock my ear and I begin
To hear the song of lovely lasses
Upon their curved hips deliv'ring glasses!
Of frothing gold foam
Wherever I roam
All ales the Green Dragon surpasses!
All four hobbits raised their glasses with a laugh and continued the song on the tops of their voices, fair and high and full of mirth.
You can dance on the tables at the Golden Perch!
But a restless soul will ever search
For the inn where maids will laugh all night
And a curvy hip all pert and tight
For the ale as gold as Dragon's keep
And plenty barrels full and deep
Tarry not to the Green Dragon lo!
We'll soon return whither we go
Across the hill and wearied plain
Here at the Green Dragon back again!
Frodo's was the strongest voice as he rose to cry out "Back again!" with all of his heart and voice. And indeed his voice was fair as it ever was, his laughter light and clear, his eyes as bright as ever they'd be as he fell back down laughing until his cheeks turned pink and his eyes shone clear as stars and his stomach ached. He was the image of youthful joy, and he seemed to be spared several of his thirty-nine years, maintaining an uncanny boyish charm along with an aged dignity that only Frodo Baggins seemed to carry flawlessly.
It was probably the lightness in the air that hovered amid their mirth or the clear sound of their commingling laughter or the pure joy that twinkled in Frodo's depthless eyes that signaled it. It was probably the kind nature of their laughter or the teasing play of their song that caused it. It really did not matter to Ted Sandyman as his brooding hatred began to focus as best as his muddled mind could on the band of laughing hobbits and then more clearly on Frodo Baggins. Ted hated all of him; his gentlemanly manner, his charming smile, his thoughtful gaze, his clear silver laugh, his annoyingly depthless mirth. What nerve he had pretending to be some sort of normal hobbit despite his obvious eccentricities. He had no place among respectable, common folk and Ted intended to make sure the miserable wretch knew it. If he had any intentions of going off on some crazy adventure like old Mad Bilbo than all the better... maybe Ted could see it along a bit... if Frodo was too happy in the Shire he might never leave. Sandyman smirked and got to his feet unsteadily.
Frodo's laughter was beginning to fade for the sole sake that his stomach was aching so. Sam was chuckling and patting his master on the shoulder as Rose came by again, giggling and refilling their glasses. "Quite a voice all you boys have. How much for another performance?" They laughed again and took a calming pull on their ales.
"You take fine care of us, Rose," smiled Frodo, looking into his mug.
"Is it the ale making you so friendly, cousin?" grinned Merry.
Frodo shook his head, "You just don't know any manners, Mr. Brandybuck."
"Oh Frodo, yes!" Merry burst into laughter. "Yes of course! Your endless manners even when you're drunk as a sod!"
"Beg pardon!" cried Frodo. "You said yourself I am far from-"
Merry leaned forward, still battling back chuckles. "Yes you are far from drunk now, but don't you recall last year at-"
Frodo had instantly thrown himself across the table and clasped a hand over Merry's mouth. Sam and Fatty gazed at him wide eyed with their mouths hanging agape. Frodo's eyes, which had once been glassy with drink and mirth seemed to gain a new intensity. They gleamed a dark warning that even Merry's muddled mind could comprehend with urgency. The entire table stayed poised like that for many long moments and Merry noted with fear that Frodo's lip was twitching slightly, his brows quirked in an expression that seemed to shout "I dare you, Brandybuck!"
Silence hung heavy and even Ted stopped in his tracks for a moment and decided to reconsider his plans. He settled back down on a barstool dazedly and just watched the scene unfold.
After what seemed an eternity, Frodo released his captive and sank back down silently. He lifted his mug without a word and took a sip before setting it back down, folding his hands gently as if such fine appendages were never capable of what they had just done. He twiddled his fingers and quirked a grin, sly next to the innocence of his slender digits. "Where were we... oh yes manners," he chuckled.
Merry scoffed in disdain. "Perhaps my righteous cousin has something to hide?"
Frodo flashed a warning glance at his cousin. "You're a cheeky little prat, always have been."
"I've learned from the best," answered Merry, taking a swig of his ale.
"You're both bloody mad," grumbled Fatty.
"Comes with the surnames," Frodo chuckled raising his ale in a toast. "Woe betide the unknowing hobbit that stumbles upon a Baggins or a Brandybuck..."
"Or a Took!" added Merry for good measure.
"Or a Took," Frodo continued. "Without proper warning."
"I say I've been given proper warning, sir, and ain't been no shocking surprises yet."
Fatty grinned into his ale. "We shall see Master Gamgee. It seems you have been properly warned but have not heeded it."
"And woe betide thee!" laughed Frodo, clinking his mug against Merry's.
And that triggered it.
"If you ask me you have been spreading plenty of woe."
This remark was far from good-natured. Merry fixed a deadly glare on the source of the insult, a wretch of a hobbit, seated on a barstool not twenty feet away. Sam placed down his ale and quickly swallowed his laughter. Frodo's laughter halted but he did not flinch nor turn. His gaze sharpened a bit and Sam wondered at his master's alertness after so many ales.
"I'm talking to you, Baggins, not your gaggle of friends!"
It was then that Frodo turned and fixed a steady gaze on the villain, his jaw set and serious. "I was not aware I was being addressed, Mr. Sandyman. Perhaps in the future, to avoid further confusion, you could hail me by my name. If you so chose to hail me at all."
Ted stood up, swaggering in his confidence. He stepped closer to the table and Sam and Merry seemed to shift closer to Frodo, their eyes steeling and boring into Ted with a stare that could burn through an oak door. Frodo paid them no heed, but he crossed his arms as if expecting a fitting answer.
"I says, if you ask me, Mr. Baggins," the name was spat mockingly in a way that made it seem foul, an insult in itself. "You have been spreading plenty of woe."
"We're not asking you!" shouted Sam who was quickly fixed with the same steady stare that Frodo had held claim to. He shrank back a bit, not quite expecting such a response. "But master he's-"
"Never you mind, Samwise," Frodo whispered and then turned back to Ted. "I'm sorry to hear that Ted, truly it is not my intent. But be that as it may, if it is my mere presence that causes you woe..."
"And it is!" mocked Ted.
Frodo continued as if is sentence were unbroken. "...then the only advice I can give you is steer clear of me when you can or bear your woe silently."
"I got another option," Ted snickered. To punctuate this remark he rolled up his ruddy sleeves.
"I wasn't giving you your options," Frodo said calmly and much gentler. "You do what you wish."
"I will," he smiled such an unsavory smile. Sam sneered bitterly and stood quickly before his master.
"You back one off, Ted. Back one off." Sam felt his fists begin to tremble but he quickly tried to avoid his desire to throttle the sod.
"Stand down, Sam," Frodo whispered harshly. Sam turned quickly to his master and was about to protest but, judging by the cold tone of his master's voice, thought better of it. He sat, grunting unceremoniously, but it was ignored.
Frodo then chose to slide to the side of his chair, placing his feet firmly on the ground and placing his arm on the chair's back. He looked up at Sandyman, leveling him with his eyes.
"A grown hobbit now, Master of Bag-End!" Ted announced. "Though not deserving of the title." He narrowed his eyes and snorted haughtily. Frodo suppressed a grimace of disgust. "Tell me, do you still have your friends fight your own fights?"
Frodo's eyes narrowed and he leaned back dismissively. "Are you still hot about what happened when you were a child?"
"And you were a tween, very mature behavior for a tween," spat Ted.
Frodo cocked his head and raised his eyebrows as if expecting something to dawn on Ted. It apparently didn't and Frodo sighed, "That's why I didn't trounce your misbehaving arse. I was a tween and throttling little hobbit lads, no matter how cruel they were being to other little hobbit lads, was not on my agenda at the time."
"So we trounced him!" roared Merry. Fatty quickly joined him in raucous laughter. Ted turned crimson and his eyes seethed. Frodo turned quickly and shot a dark glare at them, the same warning glance he had given to Merry before. They slowly quieted and Frodo turned back to Ted.
"What is it you want from me, Ted?" Frodo sighed sounding uncommonly weary.
With shocking accuracy Ted landed his fist squarely on Frodo's jaw and Frodo reeled back into Sam, his hands flying to his wounded mouth. There was a loud clatter as both Merry and Fatty shot to their feet and the inn went dead silent, save for Sam's violent curses. He caught his master and steadied him again before rolling up his sleeves and clamouring to his feet in fury. He was pushing his way out from the table and Ted took a step back but Sam barely got free when Frodo regained his speech.
"Stand down, Sam!" This time Frodo did shout and it would have been loud and firm save that it was muffled by his hands and laced with pain. Sam turned to his master and saw that Frodo was clenching his eyes shut in pain, holding his hands to his jaw. Slowly Frodo moved his hands. All eyes seemed to be on him, even Merry and Fatty seemed to forget their bloodlust and watched as Frodo lifted his head and wiped a streak of blood across his cheek that appeared to originate at his lip. His eyes were shining with tears but focused clearly and intensely upon his attacker. And there was anger.
At seeing the damage to his cousin Merry nearly threw himself across the table with the force of his oath. "Damn it, Ted!"
"You bloody brute," ground out Sam, harsh and ragged. It was not a shout but it was dripping with contempt.
Ted smirked satisfyingly, seeing that Frodo was holding his servant back. So the paunchy gentlehobbit wasn't about to stand a fight? Perhaps he thought he was above it, that it was noble to take his lumps and stand quietly? Bah, weakling!
Sam's eyes blazed to see the smug smile form on those wretched lips. He leapt forward and Ted sprung back surprised and before Sam could advance again there was a hand on his shoulder, a strong unyielding grasp that almost hurt. He turned and looked into the infuriated eyes of his master, his mouth set in a grim sneer, a small rivulet of blood traveling down his jaw. "I said, Stand down, Sam." His voice was almost cold and Sam felt a shiver. As Frodo spoke Sam could see his teeth were tinged pink with blood. "That's an order."
Sam felt his throat constrict. He loved his master, truly. And though he attempted to be an obedient and loyal servant he admired his master for never treating him as such. Frodo never really gave him orders, rarely asked anything of him, gave him more than a fair pay for his duties, and often made idle chat with him never once seeming to mind Sam's uneducated speech. Frodo had even begun his reading lessons with Bilbo to save him from Ted's condescending bullying. And now, when Sam had a chance to defend his master from the same, things seemed horribly wrong.
Frodo continued to clasp Sam's shoulder, though his gaze had softened, he remained set on his order. Sam lifted his head and took a breath. "Sir, I've never disobeyed you before, but you told me to speak my mind and my mind I'll speak! That foul rot's hit you and mighty hard and I won't brook it, sir!"
Frodo simply continued to stare at Sam with that leveling glance that made its victims' legs weak. Sam's lip trembled a moment and then he sat back down slowly. "If I see any bit of trouble sir...!"
"Very well, Sam. I don't want any more violence."
Sam huffed loudly and Fatty leaned over to him. "Calm yourself a bit, lad. Your master won't be helped by your hot head."
Frodo turned from his friends and walked slowly towards Ted. Sam saw that Ted stood straight again, a smug grin adorning the lout's brutish features. He swaggered with confidence as he took a step and stood straighter, squaring his shoulders and looking down at Frodo, who was not very much shorter than him. Frodo sighed wearily and took a last step, seemingly unwittingly in Ted's arm reach.
"Ted, I want you to remember this."
Ted sized up Frodo with a sneer and...
Swiftly, silently Frodo planted his steady fist straight into Ted's stomach. "You threw the first punch." Ted doubled over in agony and Frodo took the opportunity to drive his fist into his opponent's jaw, causing him to fall soundly onto the floor with a satisfying thud.
Sam stood again but in sheer amazement. His jaw hung agape and he heard Fatty beside him shout, "Well bloody hell!" with a whoop and a laugh. Merry chuckled as he watched Ted sink to the ground at Frodo's feet.
Merry cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted above the din of murmurs. "I thought you said you didn't want any more violence, cousin!"
Frodo was silent for a moment, his shoulders flexing slightly as he crossed his arms and eyed Ted's groaning form. "I didn't want it," replied Frodo coldly. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't resort to it if needed."
Frodo knew better than to turn his back on Ted. He stood, immovable, as if he had been carved of stone. His eyes were dark and boring into the heap of hobbit before him. Grunts and curses emanated from the pitiful form as he staggered slowly and unsteadily to his feet. Before he had a chance to steady himself his anger leapt ahead of him and he swung his fist in Frodo's direction. Frodo backed off a step but the blow still caught his stomach painfully. Ted swayed and almost fell again and looked about dazedly, hoping his fist met its mark.
Frodo clenched his teeth against the pain in his gut and charged into Ted. He caught the villain around the waist and barreled him into another table. The hobbits at the table were three old gaffers that were very distressed about the loss of their ales as the mugs toppled to the floor.
Ted's eyes bulged wide as Frodo threw all of his weight into his soft gut. Ale poured down and soaked the table and both hobbits. Frodo shifted his weight atop the writhing hobbit, who was quickly about to gain advantage unless Frodo did something quick. He dug his knee just below Ted's ribcage and received a howl in his ear. Satisfied with the result. Frodo rolled himself off the beer-soaked tabletop and gave Ted a shove as well. He once again toppled to the floor in a heap. But Frodo did not leave him this time.
He bent and snatched Ted's ear between his fingers, locking his grip and giving a hard pull. Ted stumbled to his feet for sake of saving his ear but was only rewarded with another reeling punch to his jaw. Ted groaned loudly but would not tolerate this humiliation. He let himself fall right into Frodo bringing the lithe hobbit to the ground and throwing all of his weight onto him.
Frodo gasped as the air surged from his lungs, beating his fists against his oppressor. Ted chuckled between his groans until another knee in his ribs interrupted his mirth. Frodo's lithe muscles bulled taut beneath his fine linen shirt. They shifted to get leverage between the ground and Ted and he nearly lifted the brute into the air. Frodo rolled him off, gasping for breath as he staggered to his feet.
Sam, Merry, and Fatty all stood but Frodo waved them down and shot a glare in their direction. He reeled around quickly, fist clenched steadily, catching Ted as he was attempting to stand and throwing him back with the force of the blow. Sandyman was thrown against another table with great force, knocking the mugs of ale down to shower over him, drenching him completely before he slumped over and succumbed to pain and drink induced slumber.
Frodo heaved a great sigh and reached deep into his pocket. He placed a few gold coins on the offended tables in recompense for their lost ales. One of the lads patted him on the back and whooped, "Good show, Frodo, old boy!" Frodo winced slightly and smiled wanly. The three old gaffers just shook their heads and pointed the end of their pipes at him. "Trouble always seems to find you, young Master Baggins."
Frodo sighed heavily, "Yes it seems that it does."
He returned to his seat and smiled at his friends. Merry was attempting to stifle laughter but Fatty was evidently making no such endeavor. Sam closed his mouth, which had been hanging open during most of the fight.
"I have a lot to learn about Bagginses," thought Sam.
Though his mouth was properly closed Sam was unable to stop staring dumbly. Frodo grinned at him and patted his shoulder. "I hope to never need to order you again Sam," he said good-naturedly.
Sam opened and closed his mouth for a few moments before deciding on what to say. "Oh sir I... If I'd a' known I would... that is to say I wouldn't a'... Oh sir but you throttled the lout!"
Frodo chuckled almost sympathetically. "What Sam? Not expecting such from a... lamb-lad?"
Merry instantly choked on his ale and Fatty gaped at Frodo, completely dumbstruck. Frodo raised an eyebrow and cast an amused look in their direction. There was an uneasy silence as Sam began to snicker in a rather uncharacteristic way. Frodo crossed his arms but did not manage to keep the mischievous grin from his face. Fatty blinked stupidly, wondering exactly what was expected. Merry was wiping the ale from his lips, his mug hovering in his grasp.
Quicker than a striking snake Frodo had snatched Merry by the shoulders and hoisted him over his knee, securing him down by leaning forward onto his elbows. Merry had not the time to blink never mind fight back. Frodo laughed contentedly with a delicious grin gracing his features. "I told you I'd put you over my knee you impertinent little sod of a Brandybuck!"
Merry's face turned completely red and the blustered for a while as he attempted to squirm out from under Frodo's surprisingly iron grasp. "What... Why you...! How dare you, you bloody...! Pompous... arrogant.... you... you... Baggins! Let me go you great hulking lout!"
Frodo chuckled, "Great? Hulking? Lout? Why what ever happened to lamb-lad?"
Merry tried to lift his torso slightly but the odd angle only made him look more comical in his futile attempts for dignity. He crossed his arms and huffed furiously. "You, cousin, are an ass!" And he promptly began to thrash again.
"Do you think me so base?" cried Frodo, feigning hurt. "Oh that cuts me deeply, cousin, oh so deeply!"
"Let me go you great lummox!"
"Me? Thin, lithe, fragile, bookish Mr. Baggins? Why, Merry, you just aren't trying hard enough."
Merry just growled, running out of insults he began to fight with all of his might, but with Frodo pressing all of his weight against his poor stomach it was all he could do to breathe properly.
"Come now cousin use your imagina- OW! Bloody damn!"
Merry had sunk his teeth deeply into Frodo's calf and then scrambled out of his grasp triumphantly. He sprawled onto the floor and immediately shot to his feet with a victorious grin.
"I see he's learned a trick or two from little Peregrin!" laughed Fatty.
Merry cackled maniacally and smacked his lips. "Mmmm! I love lamb!"
"Oh you're a prick, Merry!" cried Frodo leaping onto his cousin in an all out brawl. Merry promptly grasped a handful of Frodo's hair as they both toppled backwards. Frodo was pinned to the floor instantly, his hair still in Merry's grasp. "I shall have retribution you fink of a Brandybuck!"
"Come now cousin," and Merry placed a messy kiss on Frodo's brow. "Admit you love me and your wild Brandybuck side."
"Alas it is the evil in me!" cried Frodo dramatically. "Someone help! I do believe it is taking over. Yes it is compelling me to be a prick!" With that he slammed his knee forcefully against Merry's chest and the grasp on his hair instantly released. Now the tables had turned and Frodo was sitting quite happily on top of Merry, grinning widely with a wild light in his eyes. He knit his brows and widened his eyes, attempting to twitch one of his lower eyelids to look as insane as possible. He laughed a wicked laugh.
"He's gone over the edge!" cried Sam between bouts of laughter.
"I'm a Brandybuck!" laughed Frodo. "A Brandybuck I am!" And he promptly commenced to tickling his victim.
By now all the heads in the Green Dragon were turned towards the commotion. Some clucking their tongues in disapproval and mutterings of the eccentric ways of Bagginses would be heard to peak among the rise and fall of voices. The old gaffers and gammers just shook their heads and rolled their eyes while many of the younger lads began to woot and howl. Others, in true hobbit fashion, simply attempted to ignore it.
"Oh, please stop this!" cried Rose as she ran over to the corner. "Two brawls in one night, a girl cannot take it all."
It seemed her please fell on deaf ears as both cousins continued to bicker. Frodo tickled Merry mercilessly and Merry reached up and pinched Frodo's nose until his eyes teared. It was Sam that heard Rose's please and stepped forward to break up the cousins. It was then that Frodo and Merry chose to continue their battle standing. Frodo grasped his cousin's shoulder and swung him sideways, inadvertently throwing Sam against the wall none-too- gently. Merry refused to let go and Frodo was pulled right along with him as they backed straight into Rose.
Fatty roared with laughter to see the comedy unfold before his eyes. It was as the two battling hobbits were running into Rose that Fatty noticed their attentions were not obsessed with the battle at all. Frodo was watching his feet, guiding them cunningly, as Merry steered them both into Rose. "Why those sneaky, treacherous, conniving... hobbits!" thought Fatty.
And Rose was roughly pushed squarely into Sam's arms. They stared at each other dumbly, Sam afraid to move a single digit and Rose pressing against him as not to fall. The two brawling hobbits slammed into her again, careful that it was not too violently, and this time knocking her forward so her lips brushed against Sam's... chin. Close enough.
Her hair was disheveled, random strands poking wildly from her messy bun and falling into her face. Her blouse was stained here and there and Sam could think of nothing except how beautiful she was. Sam himself was still a bit mussed with dirt from the garden but she could not tear her eyes from him. He choked on a few words and then fell silent as he felt her take a breath, her body pressing closer against him. Timidly he placed his arms on her shoulders, their eyes never breaking each other's gaze.
After that endless moment Sam realized he was not breathing and took a deep sigh. That broke the spell. He moved Rose gently to the side and stood in front of her protectively. But as he was about to scold his master and that Brandybuck he turned to see them frozen still, Frodo on top of Merry, poised in their faux fight. They stared at each other for another long moment and finally both Baggins and Brandybuck began to chuckle. Merry grasped Frodo's face and placed another silly kiss, this time on the side of his face. This launched them all into laughter. "We warned you Sam Gamgee!" cried Frodo. "We warned you!"