Chapter Eleven
We had wasted so much time.
This thought kept me awake, long into the night. Seventeen years, seventeen long, empty years spent lusting over Frodo. Why did I keep it to myself for so long? I was too quiet for my own good, too shy, too timid. So un-hobbit like, I thought sometimes. I wished that I could be more open with my thoughts, but somehow they always seemed to stay trapped inside my head. But Frodo was the only hobbit I had ever truly loved. Of course, I had courted a few other hobbits in my time but never for very long. It was never properly serious, a few bouquets of flowers and kisses on the cheek. Then they seemed to move their affections elsewhere, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. They never seemed right for me. May called me too choosy for my own good. I disagreed; I simply didn't want to settle for just anyone. Marigold was to marry Tom Cotton in the Spring, but then the ruffians came, along with whispers of someone called 'Sharkey', who I never saw. All thoughts of weddings were lost. I knew there was something special between Sam and Rosie, but now Sam was gone as well. I missed my brother terribly, his smiling face no longer lightening the mood of the house. He would have had a thing or two to say to those ruffians, that's for sure. But at that time I could not see things getting any better. Things just got worse.
"They've cut down the trees along the Bywater road," the Gaffer announced grimly one morning.
"Not those beautiful trees?" my mother exclaimed, looking horrified.
"Aye lass," the Gaffer replied. "They're burning and cutting things down, and doing nowt in the way of repairs. By the way they're going they'll be no Shire left by Yule."
I looked at him in aghast. No Shire? Things were bad then. Some days I couldn't face going outdoors at all. It hurt me so to see the Shire that all of us loved being destroyed heartlessly.
"What next?" my mother said wearily. The Gaffer went over to her and put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.
"I don't know lass. I don't know."
Hope was thin. Any hobbits that had rebelled were thrown instantly in the Lockholes. Only the Tooks were holding their own, but they were far away and of no use to us. I couldn't see any light at the end of this darkness and was beginning to despair, until one evening in November when Marigold came whirling into the house. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and on her face was a wide smile.
"You're not going to believe it!" she laughed happily.
"What?" I asked. She flew into my arms and span me around, laughing gaily all the time. I was mystified at her behaviour.
"He's back!" she exclaimed at last, drawing breath and smiling. "Frodo's back!"
I don't know how long I stared at her with my mouth gaping open, wide enough to catch a fly or two, no doubt. Marigold was oblivious to my shock. She was dancing around the kitchen like a fairy, almost singing in her happiness.
"He brought back our Sam!" she laughed. "And Mister Peregrin and Mister Merry! They're back, and they're taking charge!"
"Wha...?" I uttered, too startled to even speak properly.
"You missed it all, Daisy. I was outside and I saw it all. They came riding up dressed all funny, with swords and great mail coats. The ruffians were after them, it seems that they broke arrest or something. And Frodo sent them packing. But they'll be more, mark my words. They'll be a battle sooner or later. But the Shire folk are roused now." Marigold turned to me, smiling happily. "Don't you see? They're going to leave! The ruffians I mean. It's all over! And everything's so confusing and my head's in a muddle."
Then she paused and looked at me. I was still in a state of shock and staring at her with wide eyes.
"Aren't you happy?" she asked, more quietly and with a note of confusion in her voice.
"Yes...yes," I said slowly. Cautiously I went over the information in my head. Frodo was back. The words that had at first refused to sink in slowly began to ink into my mind. Then I let out a gradual smile, and realisation dawned like the slow light of day. He was back! He was alive and well and he was coming back to me at last. I let out a laugh and felt joy spread out over my body like a warm, delicious drink. I hugged Marigold tightly.
"Yes, I am happy," I said at last, smiling like I hadn't in days.
At that moment the Gaffer came in, and seeing us looking cheerful came over.
"Now," he began. "I know that it's good news and all but there's still trouble brewing. I don't want neither of you going outside until its safe."
I looked at him, dismayed. I so wanted to see Frodo. But perhaps he was right, there still might be ruffians about and they would be angry now the hobbits had rebelled. I nodded in agreement.
"Good girls," he said. "I must be off; I'll be out most of the day. Sam is about and I'll be wanting words with him. And there's things to be done. Mess to clean." He wandered off, frowning slightly, but underneath his unruffled exterior I knew that he was just as happy as we were.
Marigold and I sat at the kitchen table and talked more brightly than we had done in weeks. I could feel hope again, and the despair I had felt daily was leaving me. Finally, things were beginning to look up.
*-*
We had wasted so much time.
This thought kept me awake, long into the night. Seventeen years, seventeen long, empty years spent lusting over Frodo. Why did I keep it to myself for so long? I was too quiet for my own good, too shy, too timid. So un-hobbit like, I thought sometimes. I wished that I could be more open with my thoughts, but somehow they always seemed to stay trapped inside my head. But Frodo was the only hobbit I had ever truly loved. Of course, I had courted a few other hobbits in my time but never for very long. It was never properly serious, a few bouquets of flowers and kisses on the cheek. Then they seemed to move their affections elsewhere, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. They never seemed right for me. May called me too choosy for my own good. I disagreed; I simply didn't want to settle for just anyone. Marigold was to marry Tom Cotton in the Spring, but then the ruffians came, along with whispers of someone called 'Sharkey', who I never saw. All thoughts of weddings were lost. I knew there was something special between Sam and Rosie, but now Sam was gone as well. I missed my brother terribly, his smiling face no longer lightening the mood of the house. He would have had a thing or two to say to those ruffians, that's for sure. But at that time I could not see things getting any better. Things just got worse.
"They've cut down the trees along the Bywater road," the Gaffer announced grimly one morning.
"Not those beautiful trees?" my mother exclaimed, looking horrified.
"Aye lass," the Gaffer replied. "They're burning and cutting things down, and doing nowt in the way of repairs. By the way they're going they'll be no Shire left by Yule."
I looked at him in aghast. No Shire? Things were bad then. Some days I couldn't face going outdoors at all. It hurt me so to see the Shire that all of us loved being destroyed heartlessly.
"What next?" my mother said wearily. The Gaffer went over to her and put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.
"I don't know lass. I don't know."
Hope was thin. Any hobbits that had rebelled were thrown instantly in the Lockholes. Only the Tooks were holding their own, but they were far away and of no use to us. I couldn't see any light at the end of this darkness and was beginning to despair, until one evening in November when Marigold came whirling into the house. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and on her face was a wide smile.
"You're not going to believe it!" she laughed happily.
"What?" I asked. She flew into my arms and span me around, laughing gaily all the time. I was mystified at her behaviour.
"He's back!" she exclaimed at last, drawing breath and smiling. "Frodo's back!"
I don't know how long I stared at her with my mouth gaping open, wide enough to catch a fly or two, no doubt. Marigold was oblivious to my shock. She was dancing around the kitchen like a fairy, almost singing in her happiness.
"He brought back our Sam!" she laughed. "And Mister Peregrin and Mister Merry! They're back, and they're taking charge!"
"Wha...?" I uttered, too startled to even speak properly.
"You missed it all, Daisy. I was outside and I saw it all. They came riding up dressed all funny, with swords and great mail coats. The ruffians were after them, it seems that they broke arrest or something. And Frodo sent them packing. But they'll be more, mark my words. They'll be a battle sooner or later. But the Shire folk are roused now." Marigold turned to me, smiling happily. "Don't you see? They're going to leave! The ruffians I mean. It's all over! And everything's so confusing and my head's in a muddle."
Then she paused and looked at me. I was still in a state of shock and staring at her with wide eyes.
"Aren't you happy?" she asked, more quietly and with a note of confusion in her voice.
"Yes...yes," I said slowly. Cautiously I went over the information in my head. Frodo was back. The words that had at first refused to sink in slowly began to ink into my mind. Then I let out a gradual smile, and realisation dawned like the slow light of day. He was back! He was alive and well and he was coming back to me at last. I let out a laugh and felt joy spread out over my body like a warm, delicious drink. I hugged Marigold tightly.
"Yes, I am happy," I said at last, smiling like I hadn't in days.
At that moment the Gaffer came in, and seeing us looking cheerful came over.
"Now," he began. "I know that it's good news and all but there's still trouble brewing. I don't want neither of you going outside until its safe."
I looked at him, dismayed. I so wanted to see Frodo. But perhaps he was right, there still might be ruffians about and they would be angry now the hobbits had rebelled. I nodded in agreement.
"Good girls," he said. "I must be off; I'll be out most of the day. Sam is about and I'll be wanting words with him. And there's things to be done. Mess to clean." He wandered off, frowning slightly, but underneath his unruffled exterior I knew that he was just as happy as we were.
Marigold and I sat at the kitchen table and talked more brightly than we had done in weeks. I could feel hope again, and the despair I had felt daily was leaving me. Finally, things were beginning to look up.
*-*
