Concerning tigerlillies.
She was born as the first snow of winter covered the ground. She is 2 years younger than I, so that would make the year 1370 by the Shire Reckoning. I always think that it must of been December, because if I force my mind to remember....But, no, I was but a babe myself then.
I knew my parents, if only for a short time. I know their names, which is more than she knows about her parents. The only thing she knows is that they were married, but not to each other.
The name of Brandybuck was given her out of charity . I think she looks more Tookish. Just let her stand next to our Master Peregrin and see if I'm not right. The same green eyes, though hers, I believe, are more intense. Like emeralds. The same reddish-gold hair. The same way of talking, that Tuckborogh lilt. Where did she get *that*? She tells me she spent a deal of her early childhood in Great Smials. But, why? Could she be half Brandybuck and half Took?
She wears cast off clothing. A lads breeches, quite tight across her hips and arse, patched faded. A lad's shirt that is too big for her, cuffs frayed. And a lass's bodice, also faded and patched and frayed. Rags really. An old coat in winter, and a threadbare cloak. I wonder how she keeps warm? How does she survive at all? I *know* she gets hungry, she's told me so. I have no idea what it's like to be cold and hungry. I hope I never do. I hope I can, one day, make her forget what it's like.
It's odd really. I never cared much for girls. Until I met her. But she's different, then, isn't she? Girls frighten me. Oh, I can enjoy a dance with one. And in the company of friends I can talk to them. But, I am absolutely terrified to be alone with them. I start to tremble all over. I break out in a sweat. I prefer my few male friends, or solitude.
Curiously, I never really thought of her as a *girl*.. That does sound strange I grant you. Never-the-less, I thought of her as a *friend* first.That is until I attended my first Fire. I was still living in Buckland at the time, maybe I was 22 or so.
The Fire is a tradition among Buckland tweens. We would eat and drink, not just ale or wine, but stronger spirits as well. Music would be made with lots of drums. A primal rhythm that sung to our young bodies. That's when I first heard her voice. Strong and sure it rang through the trees and sent chills down my spine. She stood and moved to the drums, swaying, stretching, her head thrown back as if she were with a lover. That's when she became a girl in my eyes and I found myself frightened of her.
I went to live with my Uncle Bilbo not long after that. I forgot her. Was glad to forget.
I was 27 that hot Summer day. Walking along the road, my nose buried in a book.
"Hello, Frodo Baggins!" a voice called out suddenly/ Startled, I dropped my book and looked round. She seemed to just *pop* up out of the tall grass, "Hello!" and ran to me. She was wearing only breeches and bodice in the heat. "Did I scare you, Frodo Baggins? I'm sorry." She smiled up at me and I then realized how tall I had gotten. For she came to just under my chin. I wanted to say something. Anything. But my voice failed me. It never bothered her. "I am so glad to meet you here." she said, "I have just...found....some wonderfully ripe strawberries. Won't you share them with me?"
I don't remember saying a thing weather in agreement or no. I *do* remember sharing the strawberries. I *do* remember finally relaxing, being able to talk, and laugh.
I lost my fear of her then.
I remember that Summer like it was yesterday.
She had a pony she called Windchaser. A wild thing like herself. He was as black as night and almost as big as a horse. And fast! She rode him bareback, not even a bridal and bit. I rode behind her, holding on for my life as we flew across the fields. Windchaser could take the highest fence in the Shire effortlessly. I would scream when he jumped, unable to control my own voice.
And the quieter moments.
She never learned her letters, but she was curious and listened as I read aloud. She asked me about the world outside the Shire. Me. I knew only what I read in books and what Bilbo told me and the news Gandalf brought. This I told to her, and she hung on every word. I introduced her to Bilbo, who took to her right off. He made sure she always had a good meal with us, at least once a day..I think he would have taken her in, he didn't because he saw where this was going.
I had never thought of marrying. Though I love children, I never thought I'd have any of my own. A wife and a family. Those thoughts were foreign to me. But over the next three years those thoughts were ever more in my mind. It was the Summer before my 30th birthday that I first said it to myself. I loved her. She was almost family by this time. Bilbo loved her, too. Even Gandalf, on his rare visits, smiled upon her.
I loved her.
I loved having her near. I loved holding her, feeling how soft she was and how small. Heart pounding, I would caress her face, her hands, kiss her softly.
I asked her on September 23 and she accepted me.
Bilbo was very happy. He threw a huge party to announce our betrothal. I thought we would marry in the Spring. But, after a long private talk with the wizard, Bilbo said, "When you are both of age."
To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I felt suddenly hurt and betrayed by the only person I had ever really trusted. Five years! We had to wait 5 years? Why? Other couples marry at much younger ages! I begged Bilbo to reconsider. He refused.
She was not bothered by it.
She held my hand, smiled up at me.
"We will have a lifetime together." she whispered, "What is five years?"
I soon resigned myself..Very well, we will wait.
It was not so bad really.
She was at Bag End more often than not. Even Sam was starting to accept her. He called her Miss Tigerlily now instead of that wild girl. I even heard him once practicing Missus Baggins, Ma'am, Missus. It made me smile and brought a tear to my eyes.
"We shall have a good life, Sam." I said to him, "Me and my Lil, you and your Rosie? We shall all be great friends! Our children, too!" I slapped him on the back. He blushed furiously.
She was right. The years passed by quickly. We spent our days as we always had. Some in peaceful green and soft sunlight. I was content then to hold her and read from a book until my voice became hoarse. Listening in rapt adoration to Bilbo's stories for the hundredth time. Walking through Hobbiton hand in hand. We kissed in public for the first time. *that* really got a reaction from dear Lobelia! I still laugh thinking of the look on her face. And how my Lil just grinned. Any hopes the Sackville-Bagginses had of inheriting *anything* were shattered with that kiss. Everything would go to *me* and to Lil and our children. Bilbo smiled the smile of a conqueror.
At last my coming of age was at hand. I would be 33 at last, and Bilbo 111. Two more years to wait, but I had *other* plans. I planned to *tell* Bilbo that I would wed Lil in the Spring. End of discussion. I would be assertive. I would talk to him like the adult that I was.
I never got the chance.
Oh, I suspected long before The Party that something was amiss. I didn't let myself dwell on it, though. There was too much else to think on. Like Lil and how we had slipped away for a few moments. We lay down on the cool grass and pressed together.
Her lips were soft and full and tasted of the spirits she had been drinking. She nuzzled my neck and made little noises in her throat. Something between a moan and a purr. Her breathing became sighs and she whispered in my ear, "I want you."
I became nervous knowing that something very important wanted to happen. She was pressing her hips against mine, nipping and kissing my throat. She took my hand and pressed it to her soft breast. She pressed her hand between my legs. She rocked me. She made little whimpering sounds. But my body remained passive. I could not respond as she wished. At last I pulled gently away and sat up. Tears ran down my face and I was ashamed, "I'm sorry." I whispered. She raised herself and nestled against my side, "That's all right, Fro." she said, "It just wasn't the right time." She kissed my tears and I kissed her lips. We returned to the Party just in time for Bilbo's speech.
What made me want to keep my word to Bilbo after he had left? That very bewildering business with Gandalf and Bilbo's *magic ring* might have had to do with it.
So, I put the Ring in it's envelope in a box and forgot it. And I waited two more years.
We chose June sixth as our wedding day.
This celebration would surpass even The Long Expected Party. I spent a great deal of Bilbo's money on food and drink and flowers and *her*. Except for one thing, a ring. A token of my love for her. Something to be passed on to our son or daughter. An heirloom. There was only one thing that would do: Bilbo's Ring. I took it from it's hiding place. Surely Gandalf would not object to me giving this trinket to my bride.
I stood in my-our-bedroom on that morning. Too nervous to do much but smile. Gandalf sat on a chair too small for him and smiled and nodded as he lit his pipe. Sam tucked a single rosebud into my lapel. I had asked Sam to stand up with me and provided him with a fine suit of green velvet and a brocaded weskit. He looked quite handsome and I told him so. He blushed at the compliment. "Rosie will not be able to resist him, will she, Gandalf?" I commented. The wizard agreed with a laugh, as Sam ran off to see to some last minute detail.
"Frodo?" Gandalf said quietly.
I smiled up at him, fairly bursting with joy, "yes, Gandalf?"
"What is that in your pocket? That envelope?"
I patted my pocket, "Bilbo's old ring. "
"I told you to keep it secret. To keep it safe."
"It is safe, and will continue to be. I shan't take it from it's envelope, Gandalf." I promised.
Still he looked at me strangely, "What do you plan to do with it, lad?"
"Give it to my bride, of course." I said suddenly defensive.
Something dark crossed his face, "I cannot dissuade you from this?"
No, he could not. We Bagginses are a stubborn lot and I stood my ground. Now, though, I thought to remove the Ring from it's wrapper and give it to her.
At that decisive moment my old friend could have chosen to frighten me out of my stubbornness. He could have warned me. He could have, should have, done anything else except what he did. He quietly excused himself and went out to shatter my world.
Of corse then I did not know that it was Gandalf who had sent her away. That it was his words, and maybe something more, that caused her to run. All I knew was she was gone. Run out on me at the last minute on our wedding day. Naturally, I blamed myself. Blamed my failure at intimacy, my body's refusal to respond to her. I hated myself for it.
Others blamed her for it. It was said about Hobbiton that I was lucky to be rid of that wicked girl, that spawn of immoral lust, that little witch in rags. I heard all this, for most was said to my face, and I wept bitter tears. I still loved her, you see. I still blamed myself.
Gradually, day by day, I started to lose interest in things. Books no longer held any enjoyment for me. Food had no taste, so I ceased eating. Strong drink helped me forget. I could not sleep, so I sat awake. A fire crackling on the hearth failed to warm me. The sunlight burned my eyes, so I shuttered the windows. I sat and poured my feelings out onto paper by the dim light of one candle. The ink ran with my tears, but I no longer cared.
Everyone I had ever loved, ever trusted, and depended upon had left me. My parents. Bilbo. Lil. I was unloved. Alone. Unworthy of love. Unworthy of living. I sank deeper and deeper into this pit I had dug for myself.
And then the light came on.
As brilliant and golden as the Summer sun.
I heard his voice call to me, "Mr. Frodo?"
I was lying on my bed. Too weak and sick from starving myself to answer him. I closed my eyes and surrendered to what I had hoped was death.
I awoke to the face and voice of an angel.
"Mr. Frodo? Oh, forgive me, master, I'd no idea you were so ill. I-I thought you was away, sir, on one of your hikes. Can you ever forgive your Sam?" There were tears in his eyes. He was blaming himself for my condition. But, that was just like dear Sam to blame himself for every wrong that befell me. From my own anguish induced starvation to Black Riders and missing fingers, Sam always found someway to place the blame squarely on his own shoulders.
I lay there in my bed, properly ashamed at my own behavior, and let Sam care for me. That is another thing my Sam is excellant at: caring for things. He tended me like a prized shrub or a rare flower. And I admit I enjoyed the attention. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the soft caresses, the occasional kiss on my hand or brow. I enjoyed being carried out into the sun. I enjoyed being tucked up in bed. I enjoyed being hand fed and having my face and body gently washed. I grew in strength under my Sam's gentle support until I was able to do for myself. That pleased him. I wanted to please Sam. Needed to please Sam.
Gradually, Sam became my everything. I could not go a day without hearing his voice, seeing him smile at me. He was the sun, the moon and the stars. I was careful, tho, not to let him know this. I was even more careful not to let *myself* know this. I wasn't falling in love, we were just good friends.
I never forgot my little Lil. I missed her. But I put the hurt aside and consintrated on Sam. And, then, this Ring business started up. I was more than releived when Gandalf made Sam come with me. Releived, glad, and somewhat troubled. That long alone with my dearest Sam? But I was proud of myself, we were just two friends. Nothing more. The addition of Merry and Pippin helped me to control my feelings.
Until we arrived at the Prancing Pony.
I was frightend anyway. Strider staring at me didn't help matters. What I didn't know then was that hidden in the folds of Strider's cloak was a tiny Hobbit lass. Intense green eyes also watched me. I was, as I said, too afraid to notice.
You know what happened next. Pippin's talk. My slipping and falling on my arse. The Ring. Strider grabbed me and pracically threw me up the stairs and into our room. "Are you frightened?" he asked me.
"Yes." I said.
"Not nearly frightend enough." his words sent a chill down my spine.
Then another voice, feminine, from a dark corner, "Go easy on the poor lad, Strider." She stepped out of the shadows and my heart skipped, "He don't know what he's carrying, not really." Then she smiled at me, "Hello, Fro."
"Lil?"
It was at that moment Sam, Merry and Pippin burst into the room, ready to fight. They relaxed , at least Merry and Pippin did. Sam lowered his fists, but I saw something dark behind his eyes. Lil had broken my heart, and he hated her for it.
As my two young cousins and my Sam slept. As Strider kept watch. As the Nazgul attacked. She and I spoke in hushed voices in the fearful shadow.."I am so dreadfully sorry, my Fro." she said to me, "I never wanted anything more than to be your wife and love you always. But you understand, don't you? Gandalf told you..."
Gandalf had told me nothing.
"He said we must not marry because of a great danger. A great danger to you, to the Shire,to all of Middle Earth. I know now he spoke of the Ring..." she continued.
"I was told nothing, Lil, nothing." I whispered, fighting tears.
She turned away from me, "oh! A curse upon all wizards! Nay, a curse upon myself for heeding his words." she faced me again, her eyes bright with tears, "Oh, Frodo, can you *ever* forgive me? I know you would never have me back, but just say you'll forgive me?"
"Forgive you?" I said, "Dearest Tigerlily, I have never stopped loving you. I would marry you right here, right now, if it were possible."
At that, we embraced. Years seemed to melt away as we stood there. We kissed and I smoothed her hair, "I do still love you."
"And I, you." she answered.
Sam muttered, "Stand away from him, Miss, you've no part in his life now." He was standing behind me. He put a hand on my arm, strong and possessive, "Leave Mr. Frodo be and you and I will get on fine." He sounded *threatening*.
She saw the look in his eyes and stepped back, her hand resting on her sword, "We will settle this later, Samwise."
"We'll settle this now so's there's no questioning later." Sam said firmly, "I can't ask Mr. Frodo to choose, that wouldn't be proper. So I'll choose instead.." He turned me around to face him. I had never seen that look in his eyes up until then. That fierce determination mixed with tenderness . He licked his lips, "Mr. Frodo...no...Frodo, I ain't quick on the uptake most times and it usually takes me a bit to react, if you follow? I ain't much for fancy words neither, so I think it best I show you.." He held me by the shoulders, staring into my eyes as if trying to decide, then.....he kissed me!
I should have been at least embarrassed. I wasn't. I should have felt shame. I did not. Standing there before my almost wife, before a Man, I felt neither guilt nor shame or regret. My arms, seeming of their own accord, wrapped round Sam's neck as the kiss deepened. Time, indeed everything, stood still, fear melted away. Only the bone chilling cries of the Black Riders broke the spell.
Sam and I broke apart.
Lil ran to the window beside Strider. He put his hand on her shoulder.
Merry and Pippin sat up in their bed, terrified.
She came along the next morning. The Man and five Hobbits. Looking much like a Hen with her following of chicks. I was amazed at how long she kept up with Strider until he, at last, picked her up and let her ride upon his back. She clung to his broad shoulders much as she had clung to Windchaser.
"Look at that." Pippin grumbled. "Here we four are marching along for miles on end, no rest, no food! And there she rides in comfort."
"She's a girl, Pip, not as strong as we are." Merry told him.
Lil shouted, "I heard that, Meriadoc, and I will show you a thing or two about weak girls!"
Strider smiled, "Settle yourself, Little Tigress, you can box his ears when we stop for the night."
"I will do more than that, Strider." she growled. "I think I shall cut him a new belly button."
I laughed.
It seemed easier to walk after that.
We made camp, ate a meager dinner of cold meat and bread. She sat beside me and we talked. I even put an arm around her under Sam's hard gaze.. Sam was jealous.
I was jealous when she went to Strider and curled up under his cloak. It was their custom for her to share the warmth of his blanket and his body. I found myself wondering if there was something more between them.
Merry and Pippin curled up together and were soon asleep.
On the other side of the fire Sam came to me and whispered in my ear, "I ment what I said, Mr. Frodo. I love you."
"Oh, Sam." I sighed for I loved him, too. I also loved Lil.
He kissed my hand, "Frodo."
I looked around. Fear of the Black Riders waiting in the dark made me tremble. I stood, "Sam?"
He stood also. Our hands clasped. We moved away from the others into the shadows. I could not even see Sam on this moonless night. I felt his arms slip round my waist. Tasted his lips, his tongue searching. We lay down on the cool grass and pressed together. I had done this with her. Bodies pressed together. Long deep kisses. Hands exploring. With her my body had remained passive. I had enjoyed touching her, tasting her. But her burning passion had never met more than cold impotence. I thought myself totally incapable of acts of love.
Something happened then that took me by surprise. He rolled me over on my back, his solid weight pressed down upon me. We continued to kiss, to caress, each other. I could feel his arousal straining through his breeches. He moved, rocking slowly and I gasped at what I felt. Something tingling between my legs and a fire growing in my belly. I writhed and twisted under him, loosing control of myself, consumed by passion.
oh Sam. my own Sam. I love you I love you I love you.
It didn't last long really. It was my first time with a lover and I went off the minute his hand brushed against my flesh.. We lay together for a long moment, trembling before returning to our places.
I lay awake, staring up at the stars, thinking. My body was unresponsive to her, yet with Sam I had been aflame. Fear and shame consumed me and I thought I heard hoofbeats a far off...
She was born as the first snow of winter covered the ground. She is 2 years younger than I, so that would make the year 1370 by the Shire Reckoning. I always think that it must of been December, because if I force my mind to remember....But, no, I was but a babe myself then.
I knew my parents, if only for a short time. I know their names, which is more than she knows about her parents. The only thing she knows is that they were married, but not to each other.
The name of Brandybuck was given her out of charity . I think she looks more Tookish. Just let her stand next to our Master Peregrin and see if I'm not right. The same green eyes, though hers, I believe, are more intense. Like emeralds. The same reddish-gold hair. The same way of talking, that Tuckborogh lilt. Where did she get *that*? She tells me she spent a deal of her early childhood in Great Smials. But, why? Could she be half Brandybuck and half Took?
She wears cast off clothing. A lads breeches, quite tight across her hips and arse, patched faded. A lad's shirt that is too big for her, cuffs frayed. And a lass's bodice, also faded and patched and frayed. Rags really. An old coat in winter, and a threadbare cloak. I wonder how she keeps warm? How does she survive at all? I *know* she gets hungry, she's told me so. I have no idea what it's like to be cold and hungry. I hope I never do. I hope I can, one day, make her forget what it's like.
It's odd really. I never cared much for girls. Until I met her. But she's different, then, isn't she? Girls frighten me. Oh, I can enjoy a dance with one. And in the company of friends I can talk to them. But, I am absolutely terrified to be alone with them. I start to tremble all over. I break out in a sweat. I prefer my few male friends, or solitude.
Curiously, I never really thought of her as a *girl*.. That does sound strange I grant you. Never-the-less, I thought of her as a *friend* first.That is until I attended my first Fire. I was still living in Buckland at the time, maybe I was 22 or so.
The Fire is a tradition among Buckland tweens. We would eat and drink, not just ale or wine, but stronger spirits as well. Music would be made with lots of drums. A primal rhythm that sung to our young bodies. That's when I first heard her voice. Strong and sure it rang through the trees and sent chills down my spine. She stood and moved to the drums, swaying, stretching, her head thrown back as if she were with a lover. That's when she became a girl in my eyes and I found myself frightened of her.
I went to live with my Uncle Bilbo not long after that. I forgot her. Was glad to forget.
I was 27 that hot Summer day. Walking along the road, my nose buried in a book.
"Hello, Frodo Baggins!" a voice called out suddenly/ Startled, I dropped my book and looked round. She seemed to just *pop* up out of the tall grass, "Hello!" and ran to me. She was wearing only breeches and bodice in the heat. "Did I scare you, Frodo Baggins? I'm sorry." She smiled up at me and I then realized how tall I had gotten. For she came to just under my chin. I wanted to say something. Anything. But my voice failed me. It never bothered her. "I am so glad to meet you here." she said, "I have just...found....some wonderfully ripe strawberries. Won't you share them with me?"
I don't remember saying a thing weather in agreement or no. I *do* remember sharing the strawberries. I *do* remember finally relaxing, being able to talk, and laugh.
I lost my fear of her then.
I remember that Summer like it was yesterday.
She had a pony she called Windchaser. A wild thing like herself. He was as black as night and almost as big as a horse. And fast! She rode him bareback, not even a bridal and bit. I rode behind her, holding on for my life as we flew across the fields. Windchaser could take the highest fence in the Shire effortlessly. I would scream when he jumped, unable to control my own voice.
And the quieter moments.
She never learned her letters, but she was curious and listened as I read aloud. She asked me about the world outside the Shire. Me. I knew only what I read in books and what Bilbo told me and the news Gandalf brought. This I told to her, and she hung on every word. I introduced her to Bilbo, who took to her right off. He made sure she always had a good meal with us, at least once a day..I think he would have taken her in, he didn't because he saw where this was going.
I had never thought of marrying. Though I love children, I never thought I'd have any of my own. A wife and a family. Those thoughts were foreign to me. But over the next three years those thoughts were ever more in my mind. It was the Summer before my 30th birthday that I first said it to myself. I loved her. She was almost family by this time. Bilbo loved her, too. Even Gandalf, on his rare visits, smiled upon her.
I loved her.
I loved having her near. I loved holding her, feeling how soft she was and how small. Heart pounding, I would caress her face, her hands, kiss her softly.
I asked her on September 23 and she accepted me.
Bilbo was very happy. He threw a huge party to announce our betrothal. I thought we would marry in the Spring. But, after a long private talk with the wizard, Bilbo said, "When you are both of age."
To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I felt suddenly hurt and betrayed by the only person I had ever really trusted. Five years! We had to wait 5 years? Why? Other couples marry at much younger ages! I begged Bilbo to reconsider. He refused.
She was not bothered by it.
She held my hand, smiled up at me.
"We will have a lifetime together." she whispered, "What is five years?"
I soon resigned myself..Very well, we will wait.
It was not so bad really.
She was at Bag End more often than not. Even Sam was starting to accept her. He called her Miss Tigerlily now instead of that wild girl. I even heard him once practicing Missus Baggins, Ma'am, Missus. It made me smile and brought a tear to my eyes.
"We shall have a good life, Sam." I said to him, "Me and my Lil, you and your Rosie? We shall all be great friends! Our children, too!" I slapped him on the back. He blushed furiously.
She was right. The years passed by quickly. We spent our days as we always had. Some in peaceful green and soft sunlight. I was content then to hold her and read from a book until my voice became hoarse. Listening in rapt adoration to Bilbo's stories for the hundredth time. Walking through Hobbiton hand in hand. We kissed in public for the first time. *that* really got a reaction from dear Lobelia! I still laugh thinking of the look on her face. And how my Lil just grinned. Any hopes the Sackville-Bagginses had of inheriting *anything* were shattered with that kiss. Everything would go to *me* and to Lil and our children. Bilbo smiled the smile of a conqueror.
At last my coming of age was at hand. I would be 33 at last, and Bilbo 111. Two more years to wait, but I had *other* plans. I planned to *tell* Bilbo that I would wed Lil in the Spring. End of discussion. I would be assertive. I would talk to him like the adult that I was.
I never got the chance.
Oh, I suspected long before The Party that something was amiss. I didn't let myself dwell on it, though. There was too much else to think on. Like Lil and how we had slipped away for a few moments. We lay down on the cool grass and pressed together.
Her lips were soft and full and tasted of the spirits she had been drinking. She nuzzled my neck and made little noises in her throat. Something between a moan and a purr. Her breathing became sighs and she whispered in my ear, "I want you."
I became nervous knowing that something very important wanted to happen. She was pressing her hips against mine, nipping and kissing my throat. She took my hand and pressed it to her soft breast. She pressed her hand between my legs. She rocked me. She made little whimpering sounds. But my body remained passive. I could not respond as she wished. At last I pulled gently away and sat up. Tears ran down my face and I was ashamed, "I'm sorry." I whispered. She raised herself and nestled against my side, "That's all right, Fro." she said, "It just wasn't the right time." She kissed my tears and I kissed her lips. We returned to the Party just in time for Bilbo's speech.
What made me want to keep my word to Bilbo after he had left? That very bewildering business with Gandalf and Bilbo's *magic ring* might have had to do with it.
So, I put the Ring in it's envelope in a box and forgot it. And I waited two more years.
We chose June sixth as our wedding day.
This celebration would surpass even The Long Expected Party. I spent a great deal of Bilbo's money on food and drink and flowers and *her*. Except for one thing, a ring. A token of my love for her. Something to be passed on to our son or daughter. An heirloom. There was only one thing that would do: Bilbo's Ring. I took it from it's hiding place. Surely Gandalf would not object to me giving this trinket to my bride.
I stood in my-our-bedroom on that morning. Too nervous to do much but smile. Gandalf sat on a chair too small for him and smiled and nodded as he lit his pipe. Sam tucked a single rosebud into my lapel. I had asked Sam to stand up with me and provided him with a fine suit of green velvet and a brocaded weskit. He looked quite handsome and I told him so. He blushed at the compliment. "Rosie will not be able to resist him, will she, Gandalf?" I commented. The wizard agreed with a laugh, as Sam ran off to see to some last minute detail.
"Frodo?" Gandalf said quietly.
I smiled up at him, fairly bursting with joy, "yes, Gandalf?"
"What is that in your pocket? That envelope?"
I patted my pocket, "Bilbo's old ring. "
"I told you to keep it secret. To keep it safe."
"It is safe, and will continue to be. I shan't take it from it's envelope, Gandalf." I promised.
Still he looked at me strangely, "What do you plan to do with it, lad?"
"Give it to my bride, of course." I said suddenly defensive.
Something dark crossed his face, "I cannot dissuade you from this?"
No, he could not. We Bagginses are a stubborn lot and I stood my ground. Now, though, I thought to remove the Ring from it's wrapper and give it to her.
At that decisive moment my old friend could have chosen to frighten me out of my stubbornness. He could have warned me. He could have, should have, done anything else except what he did. He quietly excused himself and went out to shatter my world.
Of corse then I did not know that it was Gandalf who had sent her away. That it was his words, and maybe something more, that caused her to run. All I knew was she was gone. Run out on me at the last minute on our wedding day. Naturally, I blamed myself. Blamed my failure at intimacy, my body's refusal to respond to her. I hated myself for it.
Others blamed her for it. It was said about Hobbiton that I was lucky to be rid of that wicked girl, that spawn of immoral lust, that little witch in rags. I heard all this, for most was said to my face, and I wept bitter tears. I still loved her, you see. I still blamed myself.
Gradually, day by day, I started to lose interest in things. Books no longer held any enjoyment for me. Food had no taste, so I ceased eating. Strong drink helped me forget. I could not sleep, so I sat awake. A fire crackling on the hearth failed to warm me. The sunlight burned my eyes, so I shuttered the windows. I sat and poured my feelings out onto paper by the dim light of one candle. The ink ran with my tears, but I no longer cared.
Everyone I had ever loved, ever trusted, and depended upon had left me. My parents. Bilbo. Lil. I was unloved. Alone. Unworthy of love. Unworthy of living. I sank deeper and deeper into this pit I had dug for myself.
And then the light came on.
As brilliant and golden as the Summer sun.
I heard his voice call to me, "Mr. Frodo?"
I was lying on my bed. Too weak and sick from starving myself to answer him. I closed my eyes and surrendered to what I had hoped was death.
I awoke to the face and voice of an angel.
"Mr. Frodo? Oh, forgive me, master, I'd no idea you were so ill. I-I thought you was away, sir, on one of your hikes. Can you ever forgive your Sam?" There were tears in his eyes. He was blaming himself for my condition. But, that was just like dear Sam to blame himself for every wrong that befell me. From my own anguish induced starvation to Black Riders and missing fingers, Sam always found someway to place the blame squarely on his own shoulders.
I lay there in my bed, properly ashamed at my own behavior, and let Sam care for me. That is another thing my Sam is excellant at: caring for things. He tended me like a prized shrub or a rare flower. And I admit I enjoyed the attention. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the soft caresses, the occasional kiss on my hand or brow. I enjoyed being carried out into the sun. I enjoyed being tucked up in bed. I enjoyed being hand fed and having my face and body gently washed. I grew in strength under my Sam's gentle support until I was able to do for myself. That pleased him. I wanted to please Sam. Needed to please Sam.
Gradually, Sam became my everything. I could not go a day without hearing his voice, seeing him smile at me. He was the sun, the moon and the stars. I was careful, tho, not to let him know this. I was even more careful not to let *myself* know this. I wasn't falling in love, we were just good friends.
I never forgot my little Lil. I missed her. But I put the hurt aside and consintrated on Sam. And, then, this Ring business started up. I was more than releived when Gandalf made Sam come with me. Releived, glad, and somewhat troubled. That long alone with my dearest Sam? But I was proud of myself, we were just two friends. Nothing more. The addition of Merry and Pippin helped me to control my feelings.
Until we arrived at the Prancing Pony.
I was frightend anyway. Strider staring at me didn't help matters. What I didn't know then was that hidden in the folds of Strider's cloak was a tiny Hobbit lass. Intense green eyes also watched me. I was, as I said, too afraid to notice.
You know what happened next. Pippin's talk. My slipping and falling on my arse. The Ring. Strider grabbed me and pracically threw me up the stairs and into our room. "Are you frightened?" he asked me.
"Yes." I said.
"Not nearly frightend enough." his words sent a chill down my spine.
Then another voice, feminine, from a dark corner, "Go easy on the poor lad, Strider." She stepped out of the shadows and my heart skipped, "He don't know what he's carrying, not really." Then she smiled at me, "Hello, Fro."
"Lil?"
It was at that moment Sam, Merry and Pippin burst into the room, ready to fight. They relaxed , at least Merry and Pippin did. Sam lowered his fists, but I saw something dark behind his eyes. Lil had broken my heart, and he hated her for it.
As my two young cousins and my Sam slept. As Strider kept watch. As the Nazgul attacked. She and I spoke in hushed voices in the fearful shadow.."I am so dreadfully sorry, my Fro." she said to me, "I never wanted anything more than to be your wife and love you always. But you understand, don't you? Gandalf told you..."
Gandalf had told me nothing.
"He said we must not marry because of a great danger. A great danger to you, to the Shire,to all of Middle Earth. I know now he spoke of the Ring..." she continued.
"I was told nothing, Lil, nothing." I whispered, fighting tears.
She turned away from me, "oh! A curse upon all wizards! Nay, a curse upon myself for heeding his words." she faced me again, her eyes bright with tears, "Oh, Frodo, can you *ever* forgive me? I know you would never have me back, but just say you'll forgive me?"
"Forgive you?" I said, "Dearest Tigerlily, I have never stopped loving you. I would marry you right here, right now, if it were possible."
At that, we embraced. Years seemed to melt away as we stood there. We kissed and I smoothed her hair, "I do still love you."
"And I, you." she answered.
Sam muttered, "Stand away from him, Miss, you've no part in his life now." He was standing behind me. He put a hand on my arm, strong and possessive, "Leave Mr. Frodo be and you and I will get on fine." He sounded *threatening*.
She saw the look in his eyes and stepped back, her hand resting on her sword, "We will settle this later, Samwise."
"We'll settle this now so's there's no questioning later." Sam said firmly, "I can't ask Mr. Frodo to choose, that wouldn't be proper. So I'll choose instead.." He turned me around to face him. I had never seen that look in his eyes up until then. That fierce determination mixed with tenderness . He licked his lips, "Mr. Frodo...no...Frodo, I ain't quick on the uptake most times and it usually takes me a bit to react, if you follow? I ain't much for fancy words neither, so I think it best I show you.." He held me by the shoulders, staring into my eyes as if trying to decide, then.....he kissed me!
I should have been at least embarrassed. I wasn't. I should have felt shame. I did not. Standing there before my almost wife, before a Man, I felt neither guilt nor shame or regret. My arms, seeming of their own accord, wrapped round Sam's neck as the kiss deepened. Time, indeed everything, stood still, fear melted away. Only the bone chilling cries of the Black Riders broke the spell.
Sam and I broke apart.
Lil ran to the window beside Strider. He put his hand on her shoulder.
Merry and Pippin sat up in their bed, terrified.
She came along the next morning. The Man and five Hobbits. Looking much like a Hen with her following of chicks. I was amazed at how long she kept up with Strider until he, at last, picked her up and let her ride upon his back. She clung to his broad shoulders much as she had clung to Windchaser.
"Look at that." Pippin grumbled. "Here we four are marching along for miles on end, no rest, no food! And there she rides in comfort."
"She's a girl, Pip, not as strong as we are." Merry told him.
Lil shouted, "I heard that, Meriadoc, and I will show you a thing or two about weak girls!"
Strider smiled, "Settle yourself, Little Tigress, you can box his ears when we stop for the night."
"I will do more than that, Strider." she growled. "I think I shall cut him a new belly button."
I laughed.
It seemed easier to walk after that.
We made camp, ate a meager dinner of cold meat and bread. She sat beside me and we talked. I even put an arm around her under Sam's hard gaze.. Sam was jealous.
I was jealous when she went to Strider and curled up under his cloak. It was their custom for her to share the warmth of his blanket and his body. I found myself wondering if there was something more between them.
Merry and Pippin curled up together and were soon asleep.
On the other side of the fire Sam came to me and whispered in my ear, "I ment what I said, Mr. Frodo. I love you."
"Oh, Sam." I sighed for I loved him, too. I also loved Lil.
He kissed my hand, "Frodo."
I looked around. Fear of the Black Riders waiting in the dark made me tremble. I stood, "Sam?"
He stood also. Our hands clasped. We moved away from the others into the shadows. I could not even see Sam on this moonless night. I felt his arms slip round my waist. Tasted his lips, his tongue searching. We lay down on the cool grass and pressed together. I had done this with her. Bodies pressed together. Long deep kisses. Hands exploring. With her my body had remained passive. I had enjoyed touching her, tasting her. But her burning passion had never met more than cold impotence. I thought myself totally incapable of acts of love.
Something happened then that took me by surprise. He rolled me over on my back, his solid weight pressed down upon me. We continued to kiss, to caress, each other. I could feel his arousal straining through his breeches. He moved, rocking slowly and I gasped at what I felt. Something tingling between my legs and a fire growing in my belly. I writhed and twisted under him, loosing control of myself, consumed by passion.
oh Sam. my own Sam. I love you I love you I love you.
It didn't last long really. It was my first time with a lover and I went off the minute his hand brushed against my flesh.. We lay together for a long moment, trembling before returning to our places.
I lay awake, staring up at the stars, thinking. My body was unresponsive to her, yet with Sam I had been aflame. Fear and shame consumed me and I thought I heard hoofbeats a far off...