Authors note: This chapter was very hard (I'm beginning to say that about
every chapter, bear with me) in general; I wasn't sure how to write the
Scouring from Daisy's perspective. Farmer Cotton's explanation in that
chapter helped a lot, but I hope it's all right!
Tara the dreamer, I'm pretty sure that Bilbo was Frodo's cousin, but I'll
check, because I'm wrong an awful lot. Thanks for reviewing! Silverelf, you
win the award for the maddest review I've ever received! Great stuff
though, thanks. Kirjava2, sadly, things go downhill for Daisy a little. Oh
well, it's gotta happen I guess. This update is a little late, so apologies
from me, but as it's Christmas I demand a nice festive review!
Chapter Ten
After Frodo left all the troubles seemed to begin. His leaving was like a trigger, sending everything off and rolling into near chaos. Lotho came to Bag End, and I knew that things would begin to go wrong. He began lording it about and buying things, firstly the mill and then other places, the inns and the farms. Winter was approaching and we needed all the supplies we could get. Lotho (or 'Pimple' as we had taken to calling him) had been sending things away for a while, pipeweed mostly, but then he began to send away food and ale. People began to get angry, but he always had a clever answer and nothing was ever done. Soon after that the ruffians came. Great, brutish men, tall and threatening. I was terrified of them. They tore down trees and built ugly sheds, but the worst times were to follow. One day a ruffian came to our door, and rapped on it loudly. The Gaffer answered it, and I hid around the corner, listening to what was being said. I could not hear everything, but I certainly got the idea. We had to leave. They were going to knock down Bagshot Row. After several minutes of heated discussion the ruffian finally left. The Gaffer saw me peer around the door and came over to me.
"We've got to go," he said wearily, passing a hand over his forehead. "I don't hold with it, not one bit, but they said we've got to. I wouldn't like to know what would happen to us if we didn't." Then he patted me on the shoulder and left me alone.
That year was the worst of my life. Two days after Frodo left I locked myself in my room and retrieved his letter from under my pillow. I decided that it was the right time to open it. I slit it open with my thumb and pulled out a sheet of parchment. I poured over it for a long while, and it was some time until I understood completely. Here is what it said, to the best of my ability.
Daisy,
By the time you open this I will probably be in Buckland. I know you will keep what I tell you a secret, for I trust you completely. I will not be staying Buckland for any longer than two days. Sam and I are leaving the Shire. Your guess was partly right, it is to do with Bilbo's gold. Whilst Bilbo was off adventuring he found a ring. He kept it a secret, and I will not explain the whole history of the thing to you, but it is evil. It belonged to the Dark Lord; it was made in the far land of Mordor. If he gets this Ring he will be able to come back to power. That is why I must leave. I am taking it somewhere that it will be safe. It's my job and my responsibility and I have no other choice. The chances are that I will not return. This is the hardest thing to tell you, and I wish that it were not in a letter. Our journey will be dangerous and hard, and I don't even fully know where we are headed. But I will miss you with all of my heart, and I know that I will think of you often. Frodo.
The information came as a shock to me, and my first feeling was one of disbelief. Dark Lord? I had heard people talk of a place called Mordor, and it sounded like a truly horrible place. Frodo had said written that it was hard to tell me, but it was probably harder for me, and tears came into my eyes as I read his words. I wished furtively that he was here with me, and my heart mourned his absence.
The chances are that I won't return.
That line jumped at me and haunted me. I may never see him again. He was gone forever. It made me wonder why I had been so upset about him moving to Buckland. I now wished with all my heart that it was true. Even after reading that line many times it still didn't sink in. I still expected to see him waving from Bag End, and it felt odd not to be taking Sam's lunch up anymore. I read over the letter countless times that afternoon.
The days and the months dragged. We stayed at the Cottons as Bagshot Row was being knocked down, who very kindly looked after us and gave us food even though they weren't allowed to. The Rules forbade them. I could no longer bear to go anywhere near where we used to live. Every time I saw the mess and wreckage I felt terribly sad. Then we were moved into our new house, an ugly brick built thing, uncomfortable and un-homely as you could get. Bagshot Row was nothing but a pit now.
The Shire was a mess. They started putting people in the Lock Holes in Michael Delving. They took the Mayor, and poor Fatty Bolger. We were living off the paltry supplies that the ruffians gave us. They took away all the nice things for themselves. No pipe weed for the Gaffer, and just plain and simple food for us. One week we lived off nothing but pickled beetroot and stewed beans. In the winter the new house was cold and the Gaffer was often ill. Mother spent all her time looking after him, and our money was running out. And I was more miserable than ever before. The only person I could properly speak to was May. I told her everything, pouring out my thoughts for hours. We sat huddled in the corner when the nights were especially cold, sharing our blankets. I told her how much I hated Frodo not being here and how much I missed him, but I did not breath a word about the letter. I had promised him. May tried to help me. She gently told me that he was not coming back, trying to prepare me for the worst. For now everyone knew that Frodo Baggins had gone. Word travels fast, and we now knew that the hole at Crickhollow was deserted and Frodo and Sam, along with Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took, had gone. No one new where, not even me. But still I believed that he was coming back. I couldn't give up hope, for it was now about the only thing I had left.
"Daisy," May said late one night. "You've got to accept it. He's gone."
I opened my mouth to disagree, but couldn't find the strength. Perhaps she was right. I was being stupid, getting my hopes up. There's no use, not any more. May knew that her words had finally made an impression. She felt bad, but I knew she was telling the truth, only trying to help me.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, patting me on the shoulder as I sat feeling utterly miserable. "But don't worry. Things will go right soon. They have to. They can't get any worse than this."
*-*
Chapter Ten
After Frodo left all the troubles seemed to begin. His leaving was like a trigger, sending everything off and rolling into near chaos. Lotho came to Bag End, and I knew that things would begin to go wrong. He began lording it about and buying things, firstly the mill and then other places, the inns and the farms. Winter was approaching and we needed all the supplies we could get. Lotho (or 'Pimple' as we had taken to calling him) had been sending things away for a while, pipeweed mostly, but then he began to send away food and ale. People began to get angry, but he always had a clever answer and nothing was ever done. Soon after that the ruffians came. Great, brutish men, tall and threatening. I was terrified of them. They tore down trees and built ugly sheds, but the worst times were to follow. One day a ruffian came to our door, and rapped on it loudly. The Gaffer answered it, and I hid around the corner, listening to what was being said. I could not hear everything, but I certainly got the idea. We had to leave. They were going to knock down Bagshot Row. After several minutes of heated discussion the ruffian finally left. The Gaffer saw me peer around the door and came over to me.
"We've got to go," he said wearily, passing a hand over his forehead. "I don't hold with it, not one bit, but they said we've got to. I wouldn't like to know what would happen to us if we didn't." Then he patted me on the shoulder and left me alone.
That year was the worst of my life. Two days after Frodo left I locked myself in my room and retrieved his letter from under my pillow. I decided that it was the right time to open it. I slit it open with my thumb and pulled out a sheet of parchment. I poured over it for a long while, and it was some time until I understood completely. Here is what it said, to the best of my ability.
Daisy,
By the time you open this I will probably be in Buckland. I know you will keep what I tell you a secret, for I trust you completely. I will not be staying Buckland for any longer than two days. Sam and I are leaving the Shire. Your guess was partly right, it is to do with Bilbo's gold. Whilst Bilbo was off adventuring he found a ring. He kept it a secret, and I will not explain the whole history of the thing to you, but it is evil. It belonged to the Dark Lord; it was made in the far land of Mordor. If he gets this Ring he will be able to come back to power. That is why I must leave. I am taking it somewhere that it will be safe. It's my job and my responsibility and I have no other choice. The chances are that I will not return. This is the hardest thing to tell you, and I wish that it were not in a letter. Our journey will be dangerous and hard, and I don't even fully know where we are headed. But I will miss you with all of my heart, and I know that I will think of you often. Frodo.
The information came as a shock to me, and my first feeling was one of disbelief. Dark Lord? I had heard people talk of a place called Mordor, and it sounded like a truly horrible place. Frodo had said written that it was hard to tell me, but it was probably harder for me, and tears came into my eyes as I read his words. I wished furtively that he was here with me, and my heart mourned his absence.
The chances are that I won't return.
That line jumped at me and haunted me. I may never see him again. He was gone forever. It made me wonder why I had been so upset about him moving to Buckland. I now wished with all my heart that it was true. Even after reading that line many times it still didn't sink in. I still expected to see him waving from Bag End, and it felt odd not to be taking Sam's lunch up anymore. I read over the letter countless times that afternoon.
The days and the months dragged. We stayed at the Cottons as Bagshot Row was being knocked down, who very kindly looked after us and gave us food even though they weren't allowed to. The Rules forbade them. I could no longer bear to go anywhere near where we used to live. Every time I saw the mess and wreckage I felt terribly sad. Then we were moved into our new house, an ugly brick built thing, uncomfortable and un-homely as you could get. Bagshot Row was nothing but a pit now.
The Shire was a mess. They started putting people in the Lock Holes in Michael Delving. They took the Mayor, and poor Fatty Bolger. We were living off the paltry supplies that the ruffians gave us. They took away all the nice things for themselves. No pipe weed for the Gaffer, and just plain and simple food for us. One week we lived off nothing but pickled beetroot and stewed beans. In the winter the new house was cold and the Gaffer was often ill. Mother spent all her time looking after him, and our money was running out. And I was more miserable than ever before. The only person I could properly speak to was May. I told her everything, pouring out my thoughts for hours. We sat huddled in the corner when the nights were especially cold, sharing our blankets. I told her how much I hated Frodo not being here and how much I missed him, but I did not breath a word about the letter. I had promised him. May tried to help me. She gently told me that he was not coming back, trying to prepare me for the worst. For now everyone knew that Frodo Baggins had gone. Word travels fast, and we now knew that the hole at Crickhollow was deserted and Frodo and Sam, along with Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took, had gone. No one new where, not even me. But still I believed that he was coming back. I couldn't give up hope, for it was now about the only thing I had left.
"Daisy," May said late one night. "You've got to accept it. He's gone."
I opened my mouth to disagree, but couldn't find the strength. Perhaps she was right. I was being stupid, getting my hopes up. There's no use, not any more. May knew that her words had finally made an impression. She felt bad, but I knew she was telling the truth, only trying to help me.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, patting me on the shoulder as I sat feeling utterly miserable. "But don't worry. Things will go right soon. They have to. They can't get any worse than this."
*-*