[Just a sweet, short chapter, leading up to the big, ah, climax in the next chapter. I needed to split this out, else the next chapter would be too darned long!
Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to the Tolkien estate, New Line Cinema, yada, yada, yada. If I could own Frodo, I would, though ;) I'd take him home, and feed him, and pet him, and name him George.]
Summer was well on its way, when I next saw Frodo Baggins. In the three months since he had visited my shop, I'd seen neither hide nor hair of him, and I told myself that I was relieved. I had, though, had a chance meeting with his uncle in Bywater in mid-May. At the time, I was strolling down the main throroughfare of the town, when Bilbo walked out of the tailoring shop, and upon seeing me, hurried over.
"Mistress Brockhouse, a pleasure to see you again," he enthused, as he pumped my hand up and down. "I do hope the remuneration for your visit to Bag End was adequate?"
I beamed at the older Hobbit. "More than adequate, Mr. Baggins, for both my initial care for Frodo, and his later visit to the shop."
Bilbo cocked his head, brows drawn together questioningly. "Later visit?" he asked.
"Why, yes, he came to the apothecary a few weeks later for a clean bill of health."
"Did he? Did he now?" Bilbo looked amused for some reason.
"He said it was at your behest," I said in concern. Could his memory be failing him? It wasn't an uncommon ailment among older Hobbits.
"Yes, of course." He smiled pleasantly. "A most decided pleasure to see you again, my dear. I do hope to see you again soon." And with a cheery wave, he went on his way. I shook my head, and thought nothing more of it at the time.
In the time since then, I had spent a few afternoons of every week wandering the nearby woods and fields surrounding Bywater and Hobbiton, gathering the various herbs and plants that I used to make my medicines. One afternoon in mid-July, I was in a small clearing within a small copse that lay between the two towns. The East-West road was nearby, although completely out of site, hidden by a small hill. As always, I had brought a small blanket to spread my skirts on while kneeling or sitting, and at the moment, I was surrounded by a veritable sea of dandelions. I would paw through each patch, looking for the oldest, fullest plants, and carefully dig them up by their roots. I was quite engrossed in the task, humming softly under my breath, when I heard a voice behind me.
"Hello."
I started in surprise, and looked to find Frodo leaning against a nearby tree, watching me with a slight smile curving his lips. I found myself flustered by his sudden appearance and unsure of what to say, although I managed a strangled greeting in return.
"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.
I pointed with my digging tool towards the flowers. "I'm digging up dandelion roots."
He approached and knelt beside me. "I know where there's fields full of them, and some farmers that would greatly appreciate their absence."
I laughed. "I need more mature plants, that have been around for a couple of years. Most farmers aren't interested in letting them sit in their fields for that long."
Frodo grinned back at me. "Would you like some help?"
I blinked in surprise, and then nodded agreeably. "As you like. I have an extra digging tool." I pulled the extra trowel from my carrying sack, and handed it to him. "Now, you want to look for older plants, because their roots will be bigger and more useful. You can usually tell which ones are older, because they've got thicker stems, and are less forked. Dig your trowel in, just so, and you can usually get the entire root out without splitting it."
He watched me for a few minutes, and then gave it a try himself. His first few attempts went ill, but he quickly got the knack of it, and we soon settled into a companionable silence. The day was warm, and the sound of birds singing in the trees could be heard, along with the buzz of insects and the occasional sound of someone passing along the nearby road.
After a while, Frodo stretched, looking about him and recited softly:
"The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering."
"Well," he laughed, "the leaves are long, and the grass is green, but I don't see any hemlock about, nor any stars."
"That was lovely," I commented. "What is it from?"
He shrugged. "I'm not certain. Something that Bilbo is translating from Elvish in his spare time. That's the only piece of that lay that he's shared with me so far."
"Do you know any others?"
Frodo laughed. "Far too many. Would you like to hear another?"
"Oh, yes, please." I had a great love for poetry and tales, as many Hobbits do, although the local variety tended to be fairly limited in scope and content.
He rocked back on his laurels, and thought for a moment as I bent back to the task at hand, and then clearing his throat, began to recite:
"West of the Moon, East of the Sun
There stands a lonely Hill
Its feet are in the pale green Sea..."**
I sighed dreamily when he finished. "Beautiful. I especially liked the part 'With their moonlit pebbled strandWhose foam is silver music...' Do you think there really is such a place?"
He nodded. "Although neither of us are likely to see it. Only the Elves may travel there now, on great ships from the Grey Havens."
"Mmm, I should dearly love to meet some Elves." I stretched, arching my back and trying to work the kinks out from being hunched over for so long. "Well, I've enough dandelions for today." I stood up, folding my blanket neatly, and stowed it in my carrying sack, which I hefted onto my shoulder. "I thank you for the pleasure of your company today, and for the poetry. It certainly made the task all the easier." Beaming happily at him, I turned to go.
"Are you going to be gathering anything else around here soon?" I looked back at him in surprise, and he pinkened slightly. "I mean, I enjoyed this afternoon as well, and should like to help you some more. If you'd like."
I paused, thinking for a moment. "Well - there's some water plantain that I had intended to harvest three days hence, over that way." I pointed further into the trees. "I'll be by the stream in the afternoon, should you want to look for me."
"I'll be there."
[** From the "Lay of Earendel", Lays of Beleriand]