Title: The Pub Series ~ Politics
Author: Rachel Stonebreaker
Email: redirect@beckyswebdesign.com
Rating: G
Characters: Frodo, Pippin, Sam, Fatty, Lotho, and some day Merry.
Date: 23 July 2002
Summary: The Pub Series is a group of stories set in a pub. This one is about Frodo taking the task in hand to start the younger cousins on the way to being more involved in Shire politics by getting them to work together on a proposal for flood control. Whoa! THAT sounds boring. It is. The "Plan" is not the focus of this story. The character development and Pippin being far too cute for words ::: are::: the focus.
Disclaimer: JRRT created these wonderful creatures. His estate owns all rights. I just take them out to the pub for a drink now and again. I do NOT make any money, fame or other gain from them.
Authors Notes: Ok, so I read the CABS website (CAUTION this is an NC17 site. Do not visit unless you are of age. They discuss adult situations in graphic words in some of their sub-pages). They have a nice bit on writing style on one of the submenus. I am mightily chagrined. I apologize for breaking about a zillion "good writer" rules. No begging for reviews. Just say, "I want to improve my writing style and appreciate reviews". Short paragraphs (yep, been told that one before). Don't SHOUT (meaning stop over using capitalization) and while you're at it, get rid of the *star* emphasis. One typographical emphasis poo-pooed on another "how to write" site was ::::shriek:::: Using ellipses to accentuate a word. Kind of cool, I think. Oh No! It's not? Darn. Too bad, though, until I'd seen it on their website I hadn't known that it would look so startling. So, I'm using it anyway. Thank goodness I have not created the sin of using the word "literally" incorrectly, as in "when he saw the Balrog, his eyes literally popped out of his head" ewwwww!
I didn't realize there was so much to this writing stuff (OK, quiet in the peanut gallery ). But then as the CABS site says "Writing is a craft. It takes practice. You can learn from other writers, so open your mind and listen." I'm practicing. It's open. I'm listening.
To that end, I want to improve my writing style and appreciate reviews. I hope that you will help me. Thanks.
Story Notes: I updated the previous chapter. You may want to go back and reread it, though it's not really necessary for the plot.
Review notes: Shiredancer ~ nice to have you feed my ego. Thank you for the comments. Yes, I will wrap up this one and move on soon. Tulip, of course there will be a show down. I've just got to keep Merry from popping someone in the mouth...
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Chapter 11 ~ Hatching Ideas
Fatty offered around his plate of what some might describe as supper but he called it a "bit to eat". Pickles, cheeses, hard boiled eggs and bread. It was a terrific late snack, one of his favorites. Pippin opened his eyes as the plate passed beneath him. He took a bit of smoked cheese and a spiced beet.
"Oh, is that a pickled carrot? I'd like one of those, too, please" but as he reached for the carrot, his sleeve caught the edge of the plate and he tipped it upright. Only Fatty's quick reactions saved the lot from hitting the table.
"Never knew he could move so fast" murmured Sam to Frodo as they both watched in awe as Freddy managed to steady the plate, return the food to its rightful position AND keep Pippin from knocking over both mugs of ale as he tried in vain to help.
"Food" was all Frodo said in reply and they both laughed good naturedly.
"Ai, lad, what a sorry state you're in. I think it's time you got up for a bit of fresh air and worked some of that ale out of your system or you'll be throwing my tidbits on the floor next!" Fatty laughed as he carefully placed the plate on the table and slid it over in front of Pippin.
"I'm not that bad off" but his hiccup betrayed him and everyone roaredl. Trying to unsuccessfully recover his dignity, not that he was ever victorious in this endeavor, Pippin replied, "Oi now, it's been terribly boring and I've only had two." He scratched his head, thought a bit, and added, "well, three".
Sam just rolled his eyes to the ceiling and Frodo chuckled. It looked like he was going to have a house guest tonight. Really, he had better start doing a better job at keeping an eye on just how much and how fast Pip drank or the Thain wouldn't allow him to watch after the lad. Pippin was, in all honesty, still too young to be hanging out at the Pub all night. But Frodo felt that if he didn't offer to include the youngster then worse would befall the young Took as he was left to his own devises. At least this way, someone with a modicum of responsibility was keeping half an eye on the wild tweenager.
Fatty was shrewd and guessed as much. "Still lad, I suspect you snuck in a half pint while our dear cousin here wasn't looking and he really doesn't know just how much you've had."
Pippin, being Pippin, just turned an amazingly innocent face to Fatty.
"How does he 'do' that!?" laughed Fatty as he stared incredulously at the youngster. Retrieving his plate and both of the mugs, just to get them out of "harms way", Fatty stared back in mock seriousness.
Pippin smiled, closed his eyes, leaned back and started humming again. This time the tune was ballad about a foxhunter. Very soft and sweet*. Once the chorus started, he sang along, quietly. He was listening to the others, though with only half an ear.
Seeing that his food was safe, one cousin was completely inebriated, the other patiently waiting and the servant was content to just sit and watch, Freddy sat back, sighed contentedly and took a sip of his ale. The barmaid with the yellow bodice saw him and came over smiling brightly. They struck up a conversation about her aunt's new tom cat that had caught an absolutely huge vole outside the spring house.
Sam stared down at his ale. Just how could Mister Frodo put up with this lot he called his family? If Sam could have it his way, this whole task of courting favors and swaying alliances, as his master put it, would be done with. But then, he realized that if he had his way, for sure it would be over and the floods would come again, because he didn't have the where with all to see such a tedious and intricate process through to the end. And the end meant all the way to the actual building of the levees and stacking of the burms and dredging of the channels. And that meant mobilizing more than just a handful of relatives. Mister Frodo sure was a smart one. And patient. Too patient sometimes and too forgiving, if he didn't mind saying so himself, which is just how he said it, to himself. He looked over to the hobbit he idolized. Just sitting there, he was, legs kicked out in front of him, hands back behind his head, eyes looking off to who knows where while they all listened half interested as Mister Freddy and the barmaid talked on now about the babe her sister's husband's sister was expecting any day now.
Sam took another swallow of his ale, a handful of the red grapes sitting on Mister Freddy's communal plate and continued to look at his master. Just what was going on behind those hazed over eyes anyways? Probably dreaming again of going off after Mister Bilbo, no doubt. He'd have to watch closer. Mister Merry had pulled him aside just last week to ask him to do just that. Watch. Mister Merry was shrewd. And worried. That much was obvious even to Sam's thick sense. Sam didn't think Frodo would be traipsing off after his uncle this year, but it was beginning to look like he was heading out for something longer than just one of his extended travels. Maybe if Mister Frodo joined the Shirrifs he would satisfy his wanderlust. He could walk about all month, exploring and mapping and gathering information from those who dwelt on the edge of the wilds. Maybe Sam would suggest that. Though, with a shudder, Sam realized it would mean he'd have to join up, too. For he'd not let Mister Frodo out of his sight for that long a time. Someone needed to look after him. He just had no sense when it came time to come in out of the rain, though he surely was the smartest hobbit Sam knew. But those sherrifs could be gone a long time and it would not do to let Mister Frodo be alone for that long. Some of them could be gone away for months at a time. He'd just have to go along, too. But then who'd tend the gardens and Bag End? Sam was in a quandary now. The idea was a good one but there were complications. He'd have to sit on this one and think a bit more.
Sam startled as a shout from the barkeep got not only his but the barmaid's attention. She hustled off to fetch some other patrons' orders. Freddy turned his attention back to the lads at the table.
General pleasantries now taken care of, Fatty saw it was time to bring up the subject that Lotho had commented almost politely on the proposal when he'd stopped by earlier this evening to chat with him and his friends. "Our cousin, Lotho, thinks he might like to talk to his mother about the proposal, Frodo. He seemed quite interested in the opportunity to get his name listed as an 'instigator' ".
Sam snorted, Pippin stopped singing, and Frodo pulled his feet under him turning with a "go on" look.
"I'm not sure if it's his pride talking or his greed but he's willing to pitch in."
"I suspect it's his mother" sighed Pippin.
"Oh, I don't know. He seemed genuine enough. And we all know how hard it is for Pimple to come off as something as nice as genuine" Freddy replied in an uncharacteristic show of veiled malice towards the Sacksville-Baggins that they all truly lothed. "I don't think it's greed. You know he's been selling pipeweed at inflated prices to some lads out in Bree so he's not hurting for money".
Sam looked up sharply and even Pippin took note. Frodo just continued to sit, calm and collected with that patient "tell me more" look on his face.
Fatty continued "I heard from Primrose Bracegirdle who heard from Mercy Mugwomp who heard from"
Frodo waved his hand and Freddy took the hint, "So, tale has it that Shire pipeweed, and not too bad a quality at that, has been showing up in climes to the south and east of here and that it's one of our own selling it out and under, if you get my drift."
"Just tale, if you don't mind me sayin' so Mister Freddy. My Gaffer always says to not mind second hand talk for it may have come from a untrustworthy source" Proper manners aside, Sam pipped up, not being able to sit still while gossip was being told in his company.
Fatty reached over the table and ruffled Sam's hair, which was something that always disturbed Sam in a way that Sam was never too sure about, should he be flattered that Mister Freddy took notice of him or should he be offended that he was being treated like a tween; which was why Fatty did it. He'd a knack for changing the subject effortlessly to avoid conflicts. Fredigar definitely did not like conflicts. "So, our Pimple would like to throw his handkerchief in the pile and be counted as a 'conspirator' for whatever that's worth." He popped another pickle in his mouth and chewed quietly.
Pippin hiccuped again breaking the silence. Everyone turned in unison to look at him. He gave them a look that said, "what?!"
"Lad, see now, you go get some fresh air and drink some water. You'll be embarrassing us next by dancing on the tables" Freddy heaved Pippin to his feet and gave him a gentle push.
"No, that's Frodo's job" Pippin laughed as he caught himself by steadying his hands on Frodo's shoulders.
"Now, I like to dance, that's true, but I've never got up on a table, you silly Took! Don't go spreading rumors or others will think they're true and my reputation doesn't need any help, thank you!" Frodo laughed as he nearly fell over under Pippin's unexpected weight.
The change in Frodo's balance threw Pippin off and he dropped to a knee. Frodo caught him up, turned him to the door, and steadied him.
"I'll go out with him to make sure he doesn't drown in the water trough or throw up on anyone we like" ventured Sam, who had caught the look Mister Freddy gave him. Though Sam was wont to say he was dense and didn't catch on fast, he could read these lads like his own family and he knew when Mister Freddy wanted to talk to Mister Frodo alone.
As Sam escorted Pippin to the door, the conversation turned to Lotho, his interest in the proposal, and his possible motives.
"You are aware, dear cousin, that Lotho Sacksville-Baggins has a keen interest in seeing any adventure of mine fail."
"Still, you do trust my judgement in something like this, don't you, Frodo? I think he's truly sincere. I believe he sees it as a chance to take control of something that will be very successful and therefore receive wide spread popular visibility and claim it for his own idea."
A seed of thought germinated in both their minds at nearly the same time. Perhaps Lotho would be a good candidate to push for spearheading the instrumentation of the actual plan. None of the cousins really wanted the notoriety that would accompany the success of this event nor the difficulty in seeing it to completion. They were all far too polite or too wise (or in Pippin's case, too naïve).
"If we set it up properly, then he could possibly carry it out" Fatty commented seeing the light in Frodo's eyes.
"Yes, especially if we enlist the Boffins. Between the two of them, they've got one very good head for logistics" Frodo raised his eyebrows and cocked his head signaling his agreement of the newly hatched idea.
"Capital idea, dearest Frodo!" Freddy grinned widely as he winked and slapped Frodo on the back. Frodo grabbed his mug and raised it up, meeting Freddy's over the center of the table. They drained their mugs, laughed out loud at the audacity of proposing their arch rival as Chief Instigator of The Plan and sighed deeply.
"Well onto it now, you know I don't stand a chance with him if I don't act now while I'm half sotted and very willing to let his barbs slide by" Frodo remarked pushing to his feet as Fatty got up to get some more vittles and ale. "Right! What could it hurt?" Frodo said more to himself than anyone else while grabbing Sam's unfinished beer and heading over to Lotho's table.
End Chapter 11
* The Ballad of the Foxhunter ~ Cherish The Ladies "Threads of Time"
http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=1131873&cart=124175944&style=MUSIC
choose song number 5
Lyrics on: http://www.web-books.com/Classics/Poetry/Yeats/Crossways/BalladThe.htm
