That afternoon Frodo, Pippin and Sam strolled across Brandy Hall's broad lawn, where it dropped down toward the river. "So, what do you think of Buckland, Sam?"

"It's more like the Shire, proper, than I was expectin', but the Hall is a sight. Tis bigger, and sometimes grander, than even Great Smials. Beggin' your pardon and all, Mr Pippin."

Pippin shrugged his shoulders. "No offence taken, Sam. Brandy Hall is enormous in comparison...although its not as old."

"I don't think I've seen this many folk all pushed together, since Mr Frodo took me to the Free Fair."

Frodo laid a hand upon Sam's shoulder. "Does it worry you? You don't have to speak with everyone, you know. It's like a village really. Other than saying 'hello' as they pass, most folks settle into smaller family groups."

"That's a blessin'. I think I must have seen a score of folk before we'd even had breakfast this mornin'." Sam gave a small shudder. "That dinin' hall is somethin'. I aint never seen a room that big before. And the noise… all those voices and the clatter of cutlery and plates. I thought my ears was goin' to burst."

Pippin laughed. "You should hear Great Smials when we throw Grandpapa's birthday party."

Frodo guided them onto a gravel path that ran parallel to the swift flowing Brandywine. "Growing up here I got used to it after a while. I didn't even notice the volume until I saw your face this morning. At least on the Master's table we had the food brought to us, and did not have to stand in line at the kitchen counter."

Sam winced. "I wasn't expectin' that. It don't feel right for me to be sittin' with such high folk. My Gaffer would say I'm gettin' above my place. I'm only a gardener."

"Oh, Sam. You are invited as my friend, not my gardener. Of course you should be seated with me, and there was no question of it in family eyes. That is why you were put in the same room with Pippin and me."

"You would be miserable in a room on your own, anyway," Pippin announced as he began to kick a pebble from foot to foot.

"I thought that was because they'd run out of rooms," Sam offered, switching sides so that Frodo was the one walking closest to the river bank. Frodo hid a grin. Sam would step in front of a lion to protect his Mister Frodo, but a river was quite another matter. The Water, which ran through Hobbiton, was not much more than a broad, shallow stream, unless it was in flood, but the Brandywine was quite another matter. It was flowing clear enough today but was so deep in places that they could see no sign of the bottom. Crossing it on the ferry had been very disturbing to Sam, who wasted no time in suggesting that, on their way home, they cross by way of 'that nice sturdy stone bridge' a few miles upstream.

For a moment Frodo fell into his own memories of the Brandywine, not all of them pleasant.

"Is it very deep?"

Frodo blinked himself back to the present. "Is what deep?"

Sam nodded toward the enigmatic water. "The Brandywine. It looks very deep. I wouldn't like to fall in."

Frodo stood still, turning to look out across the rolling green water. "It's quite deep in places, and if you're not a strong swimmer it can carry you away. It's deadly when it's in flood, but most of the time it's like this." He nodded toward a couple of small boats, drawn up on a narrow shingle beach. "Some folk like to go boating when it's running slow, but when it comes to fishing, most are content to cast from shore."

Pippin nodded, his voice taking on a ghoulish tone. "Merry says there are weeds in the middle, that you can get caught up in if you swim there." He flicked his stone high and it landed with a satisfying splash, not far from shore.

Sam shuddered, looked down, to where a group of boisterous tweens was splashing in the shallows. "Have you ever been in a boat, Mister Frodo?"

Frodo turned away from the river, resuming his walk, and Sam skipped to catch up, while Pippin searched for another stone to kick. "Uncle Saradoc ensures that everyone at least knows how to stay afloat, if not swim, and some of us can handle a boat. My father tought me when I was very young."

The laughing jibes of the tweens at the shore changed tone, growing louder and more urgent, and the trio turned to follow a pointing finger, upstream. At first Frodo thought it was just a log, then he spotted a thick flow of dark streamers at one end, and realised that those streamers were hair. It was a body, being carried downstream on the swift current.

A group of older hobbits ran past, shouting instructions to the tweens, who began to untie and jump into the boats. They paddled strongly toward the figure, which was clearly too big to be a hobbit. Their own boats being too small to accommodate such a large body, they had to content themselves with fastening it to the stern of one to drag it ashore.

By the time a curious Pippin had tugged his reluctant companions closer, a large group of hobbits had collected to watch Saradoc roll the figure over. Several people gasped and some of the ladies turned away. The man had not been in the water for long enough to bloat, which someone called a blessing, but his face was badly abraded by weeds and other underwater hazards. It was not his face that drew the gasps, however, but the broken stub of an arrow shaft that protruded from the centre of his bloodied chest.

Frodo did not even see the arrow, however. For him, the world narrowed until that body, with it's tendrils of dark hair, was all he could see. The rush of the river was the only sound he could hear. The figure shrank and dark hair was suddenly bound with blue ribbons. He could feel tremors begin to shake his body, rolling through from toe to head, and back again.

Sam suddenly blocked his view, hazel eyes wide and full of concern. He grabbed Frodo's shoulders, shaking him gently. "Mr Frodo? Frodo? Are you alright?"

Slender hands coaxed Sam aside and Aunt Esmeralda reached to stroke Frodo's face. Her words seemed to come to him from far away. "I have been waiting for this, all these years. It's alright, Frodo, dearest. Come inside now." She gently turned Frodo about and led him back toward the Hall. As he stumbled away he was only vaguely aware of Merry taking Sam and Pippin aside.

For Frodo, the world became a strange merging of past and present. To the fore he was aware that he was in the Hall's infirmary, and that Aunt Esmeralda was helping him to undress and don a nightshirt. Behind that he could see another time, when they had gone through the same motions. A time when he had been much smaller in this same room.

As his aunt tucked him into a narrow bed Frodo glanced down at his hand, surprised to discover it was empty. A blink, and there it was. A limp pair of blue ribbons, clasped tightly in his fist. Another blink and they were gone again, and he was being fed a warm drink that soothed, just as it had then.

Frodo slept and when he awoke the world was one again. A quick check of his hand brought relief when he saw no ribbons, although the feel of them as they clung wetly to his hand remained.

"How are you feeling, Frodo?" Aunt Esmeralda sat in a chair at his bedside.

He glanced about the large, airy room, noting the neat line of unoccupied beds, and finally alighting upon a small collection of medicine bottles on the cabinet nearby. "How long have I been asleep?"

Esmeralda smiled softly. "Just a few hours. Seredic thought it would help. Did it?"

Frodo frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows and leaning back when Esmeralda slid additional pillows at his back. "I think so. It was so strange. For a little while it felt as though I were in two places at once." He stared again at his right hand. "I could not seem to separate today from..." He paused to swallow. "From that other awful day." He held up his hand, half expecting the ribbons to suddenly materialise, even though his rational mind knew they were in the dresser drawer of his bedroom, at Bag End.

His aunt caged his fingers gently in hers. "I wish, with all my heart, that you had not been there that morning."

Frodo knew that she did not refer to today's event. "I am not sure that the pain would have been any less if I had stayed away."

Esmeralda gave a wry smile. "You were always too inquisitive for your own good, Frodo Baggins. We tried to keep you away when we realised who it was, but you were as slippery as an eel." She shook her head. "We thought to spare you the sight of them."

"It was not your fault. Papa and Mama always allowed me my head." Frodo offered a lopsided smile. "I must have driven you and Uncle Saradoc to distraction in those years before I went to stay with Bilbo."

"You were a handful. I never minded too much, though. I suspected that you used activity to push away the memory." Esmeralda narrowed her eyes. "The more exciting, and sometimes dangerous, that activity, the better."

Frodo could feel something slowly loosening inside him, like the buttons on a tight waistcoat being unfastened, one by one, at the end of a long day. He drew a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh. "I tried to close the door on my memories and feelings because they hurt too much. In fact I locked it so tightly, that for years I did not even acknowledge that there was a door. Do you know, for the longest time I could not even remember their faces?"

"I worried about that for many years. I knew it was not resolved when you left with Bilbo, and I hoped you would be able to open up to him one day. I was so hopeful when you wrote, asking for those sketches."

"I treasure them, Aunt. Thank you so much for making them. In the end it was not Bilbo but Bell Gamgee who helped me open the door and peep inside."

Esmeralda's dark brows arched. "Sam's mother? Bilbo never told me that. Although I have noticed a change in you. I am glad that you found someone to talk to."

"It was rather like today, in a way. I wondered into Bell's kitchen one day when she was ironing, and I suddenly remembered Mama doing that. Bell was very kind and wise, even though she thought I was about to faint. I thought I had come to terms with that day, and then I saw the man they dragged ashore today, and it was as though I was seeing Mama and Papa's bodies all over again."

Esmeralda's eyes grew distant. "There will always be times when the past ambushes you like that. As the years pass, it happens less frequently, but it never really stops. Sometimes, when I tend one of the older folk through their last days, I remember my mother." She began sliding the pillows away and helped Frodo ease down again. "Don't be afraid of the memories, Frodo. They help make us who we are. Even the bad ones." Esmeralda patted his hand. "Now, I think a little more sleep is in order for you. I shall present your apologies to Pippin and Sam."

Frodo's eyes widened and he made to get up again. "Sam! I had forgotten all about poor Sam. He must be out of his mind with worry. And young Pip must be scared too."

Esmeralda pushed him down. "Do not be concerned. Your Uncle Saradoc said he would speak to them. He will tell them that you are feeling a little unwell, but that you will be recovered by tomorrow. You can explain further to Sam in the morning, if you wish, and I am sure that Merry will save you a piece of birthday cake."

It was the following morning before Frodo returned to their shared room, and he hesitated at the sound of voices within.

Merry' voice came first. "That was quite a party, wasn't it?"

Pippin was bright, as usual. "The games were great fun, but I still say Diamond cheated at Blind Man's Bluff."

Sam sounded less enthusiastic. "I'm sorry if I was a bit quiet, Master Merry, but I didn't feel much like celebratin', knowin' my master was taken so strange." His voice took on a mulish tone that made Frodo smile. "And I don't know why your Ma wouldn't let me sit with him. I would have been quiet as a mouse. Anyway, where is Mister Frodo? Your da said he would be back this mornin'."

Frodo slipped into the room, unnoticed by his three companions, who were perched on the edge of Pippin's bed, their backs to the door as they stared out of the window.

Merry shrugged. "Mama says it's something to do with Frodo's parents. If he has not spoken to you about it I don't think it would be right for me to."

"I expect not. Will he be alright, though?" Pippin asked.

Merry linked arms with him. "Mama says so. She says he just needs a bit of time and she's been sitting with him in the infirmary."

"Were you there when his Ma and Pa died?" Sam asked.

Merry shook his head. "I wasn't even born then. We Brandybucks like the river, but we learn, very early, not to take it for granted."

"Well, that man was shot with an arrow. He weren't killed by no river."

"True. I wonder who he was and why he was shot. That arrow was far too big for a hobbit bow, and Papa says it was not fine enough to be elven crafted." Merry chuckled. "Although I'm sure I don't know when Papa ever saw an elven arrow."

"Do you think he was one of those men that have been botherin' your Bounders?"

"I don't know. If he was, he must have had a falling out with more of his kind."

Sam frowned. "Tis clear he was up to no good if he was this close to the Shire. As for fallin' out, Mr Bilbo used to say there ain't no honour among thieves."

Merry snorted. "Those are brave words from a one time burglar. Come on. Let's go for a walk. I'm fed up of sitting still." He jumped up, suddenly stilling as he caught sight of Frodo framed in the doorway.

"Hello Sam, Pip. I'm so sorry I wasn't at your party, Merry."

Pippin ran forward to grab Frodo in a tight embrace. "Frodo. Thank goodness."

Sam took a long moment to look Frodo up and down. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he broke into a broad smile. "Mr Frodo! Tis good to see you up and about. I was right worried about you."

"I'm much better Sam. Merry, thank you for looking after them. Your Papa asked me to tell you not to be late for your lessons."

Merry rolled his eyes. "Bother. I hoped I may be spared for one more day, but it seems not. Now I've come of age I hoped to convince everyone that I should not have to attend lessons any more, but Grandpapa Rory insists I still have lots more to learn. I tried to tell him that my head was already stuffed and would probably burst soon, but you know Grandpapa." He studied his cousin closely. "Are you really alright?"

"I am. I'm sorry I worried you, but I really am feeling much better now."

"I'd better go, then. Grandpa won't be kept waiting. I'll probably see you at luncheon." He dashed off, turning to call back, "I saved you some cake."

"Thank you," Frodo shouted to his retreating back. Now he turned back to Sam and Pippin. "Pip, would you mind if we left you for a little while. I'd like to talk to Sam."

Pippin studied his cousin for a moment, then clasped him in another hug, before releasing Frodo and stepping back. "Don't ever do that to us again!"

Frodo offered a small smile. "I'll try not to, Pip."

"Then go. I'm going to see if I can scare up a few biscuits from the kitchens."

Frodo steered Sam from the room, calling over his shoulder, "Ask for Foxglove. She's always got a few treats set aside for tweens."

"Walk with me, Sam." Frodo led them out of the Hall and down the lane that ran toward Crickhollow. Soon high banks and hedges deadened the sound of the river, so that Frodo could almost imagine that he was back in Hobbiton and the safe heart of the Shire. "I expect I frightened you a bit yesterday," he announced to a peace, laced with birdsong.

"Begin' your pardon, but from the look of it at the time, you were more frightened than I was, sir. Though what it was that you saw, that we didn't, I can't think."

Frodo chuckled. "You may be right. It's just that, seeing that body dragged from the river reopened old wounds I had thought long healed."

"Was it to do with your Ma and Pa?"

"I expect Merry told you but he doesn't know the details. You know, I was there on the morning they brought them to shore." Frodo shook his head, slowly. "I knew it in my mind, but I could remember nothing of it. Aunt Esme says I never cried or spoke of it in all the years that I lived here."

"I heard tell that they drowned, but you never said anythin' and neither did Mr Bilbo, so I wasn't sure if it was just a nasty tale. They said some other nasty things too."

"I've heard those rumours about my mother dragging father in." Frodo smiled. "Oh Sam, you are such a capital fellow. I wish everyone in the Shire paid as little attention to gossip as you. The world would be a much better place." He drew Sam aside, to allow passage for a pony and cart, and the two sat climbed up, to sit atop the steep grassy bank. "One evening my Papa took Mama out in a boat on the river. Everyone tells me it was a quiet evening and the river was as calm as a mill-pond. Mama had been around boats all her life, so nobody thought to check on them, but the next morning they did not come down to breakfast, and a search eventually found their bodies in the river. Uncle Sara said the boat could have been swept miles down stream or may even have sunk. Mama and Papa had become tangled in some overhanging tree branches, or they would have been swept away too."

"Had they been shot?"

"Gracious, no. There was hardly a mark on them, just a few scratches from the branches. I suspect we will never know what happened. Seeing them drag that man out of the river yesterday just brought it all back. For years I pretended I was not there but I remember it so clearly now." Frodo shuddered. "Uncle Sara closed their eyes but I saw. Their eyes were so empty. They weren't my Mama and Papa any more. It was such a shock that I suppose I just wanted to shut it all away."

Sam nodded. "Ma went in her sleep, but even though I couldn't see her eyes I knew when she was gone. If you take my meanin'. Her body was still there but she was gone. It weren't her any more."

Frodo laid a hand about Sam's shoulder and touched his head to his friends'. "No matter the circumstance, it's always hard losing someone you love."

That afternoon a private tea was held in the Brandybuck family dining room. A portion of Merry's birthday cake had been set aside, to be shared between Esmeralda, Saradoc, Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry, and Esmeralda provided sandwiches and buns. The sadness of yesterday was set aside as they helped Merry celebrate what Frodo declared to be his, 'Birthday-and-a-bit Party'.

A few days later, as Frodo, Pippin and Sam crossed the Brandywine Bridge, Frodo paused to drop two small bunches of flowers into the river. For some minutes he watched them sail serenely away, then shouldered his pack and followed his companions as they turned for Hobbiton and home.

7