Title: The Pub Series ~ Politics
Author: Rachel Stonebreaker
Email: redirect@beckyswebdesign.com
Rating: PG
Characters: Frodo, Pippin, Sam, Fatty, Lotho, and some day Merry.
Date: 24 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 discovered them hiding out in my bookshelf about 30 years ago. That's a long time ago for some of us and just a drop of water in the pond of life for others but all in all, I suspect we love his characters dearly.
Authors Notes: Consider reading the lyrics to the songs for the chapters. Some are sadly angsty and some are wondrous well.
Story Notes: A bit of contention but nothing the Old Mother Red Cap hasn't seen before. In fact, most ignore small tiffs unless chairs and tables fly.
Review notes: Pansy Chubb, too wild? Can Pippin BE too wild? LOL! He young and foolish, dno't you know. Besides he doesn't get out enough but still he doesn't get into too much troubleMainframe, Tulip, and Shirebound, it's great to hear from y'all again, you keep me going.
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Chapter 12 ~ Lotho
Frodo took a deep breath and silently thanked his Aunt Esmeralda for insisting he learn how to politely greet relatives who were not exactly his favorites. He sighed quietly and took a small sip of Sam's borrowed beer as he tried to pluck up the courage to approach this creature who never missed a chance to cause him grief. He was loosing his nerve to speak to Lotho and was just about ready to turn away when Finnos Boffin noticed him. Finnos and Haydanos were cousins on his Took side and could actually be quite nice.
"Well if it isn't Frodo Baggins. Hullo Frodo. Care to join us, Hay and I were just telling our cousin about what my brother and I had heard last we were in Broken Borrings, near your old stomping grounds, isn't it?" Finnos started to make room for Frodo to join the table by scooting over a bit and shuffling the three mugs and small empty trencher.
"Ah, Fin, I was just about to order up my supper. Well, now that the invites been done, yes, Frodo, do join us. You're more than welcome to sit seeing how your group seems to have all up and left. Can't have you standing there drinking by yourself now can we?" Sometimes dim when it came to social niceties but generally pleasant, Haydanos could be forgiven his initial complaint as his natural hobbit politeness took over. He and his brother did not share their friend Lotho's contempt for this young Brandybuck called a Baggins. Everyone knew that while Frodo Baggins was truly an odd character, like his uncle Bilbo, he was rumored to be very well off, just like his uncle. And Hay surely enjoyed his times at any party a Baggins threw. He just wished that they would come with the frequency of Baggins Bashes in the past. Since Old Bilbo's strange departure Young Baggins didn't seem to carry on the tradition of the huge birthday parties which had become renown throughout the Shire. Still, he'd been invited to a few of the recent general parties hosted in the field outside Bagshot Row and had always had quite a pleasant time. He wasn't too sure that if his friend Lotho ever got possession of Bag End, as was his frequently stated desire, that the parties would be nearly as grand. He knew Lotho to be a solid Sacksville with a little Baggins thrown in with certainly not any trace of the Took wildness, so, in short, he knew Lotho to be tight with the purse strings.
Frodo cleared his throat and turned on the charm with a flashing smile. "Most kind, most generous. Thank you Haydanos. Good evening Finnos! Hello Lotho, good to see you looking so well. That turn with the cow pox certainly didn't do any damage." Frodo was smooth with the back handed complements. Lotho, not of clear skin, recently contracted the cow pox. It was known to be disfiguring to adults but on Lotho it left less pocks than the pimples. It was so unlike a hobbit to have flawed skin that sitting here next to Fin, Hay and Frodo he could be thought of as ugly in a way, if one were to be so unkind. Certainly, the "compliment" did not go unnoticed by Lotho who had grown up learning the expertise from his sharp tongued mother. But he let it slide by unchallenged. Yes, Lotho was indeed in want of something Frodo had to offer. Frodo wasn't too sure he felt comfortable on this end of a deal with this particular hobbit.
They traded fast simple pleasantries, general, non-threatening queries into family members' health. Fin excused himself to take care of a natural calling, leaving Hay, Lotho and Frodo. No one appeared easy enough to broach the discussion they all knew was the reason for Frodo's spontaneous visit
Pip waltzed in the door much the better for the fresh air, trip to a nearby tree, and a quick dunk of the head in the water trough. He was still shaking the water off his hair when he stopped abruptly inside the doorway. Sam ran right into him with an "umph" and a bitten off curse, something to do with never suspecting someone as slight as the Pipsqueak being so solid. Pip pointed to Frodo sitting amiably with Lotho and the eldest Boffin lad. They both fell silent. With Sam, Pippin stood off to the side in confusion as to whether or not to go sit with Freddy, who had returned to the table with another ale and another plate or to go "rescue" Frodo, as Pippin saw it. They went unnoticed by anyone, the music was loud, the laughter high and quite a few shouts and hails were to be heard as the pub was in full swing.
Frodo tired of the trivialities and the careful dance he played with his cousin. He broached the subject of the Proposal in his most affable voice. "Lotho, it seems we may be in need of some of your experience. You may have heard that a somewhat important, though not simple poll may be considered for general publication soon."
Lotho, scheming already, was ready to brush aside the idle chit chat and come right to the point. His response was not so genial. "Yes, Frodo, it's quite difficult to miss when someone like a Brandybuck has his mouth open. Everyone's in quite a stir over your little "Proposal". I suppose you've come to ask me to help smooth over the uproar you've created?"
Frodo bit back the sharp reply forming.
But unluckily, Pippin did not. The lad popped up at of seemingly nowhere and voiced loudly about how anyone in their right mind would consider Lotho Sacksville-Baggins as a coconspirator was beyond him as the poorer relations certainly were poorer in not only money but brains as well. He'd definitely had too much to drink. Frodo winced. Lotho seethed. Pippin was on a roll now. Unfortunately for him, Merry wasn't there to slap a hand over his mouth, throw him over a shoulder, shout apologies to everyone and stalk out of the bar like the last time Pippin decided to pick a fight. And Frodo just wasn't quick enough to reach him before he continued "and he's not all Brandybuck! He's a Baggins, same as you, except he's brighter because he's got Took blood in him as well." The Boffins had to smile at this despite the obvious fight brewing.
Haydanos wasn't taken aback. He'd seen the contention between Lotho and his cousin in actual action before. He knew when Frodo had appeared at the table after Fredigar had so jovially bought them all an ale and explained a few of the details of the rumored "Proposal" that things were going to be wonky tonight. Especially after seeing how Lotho nearly jumped into Fredigar's lap at the mention that they needed help to pull it off. But to see this slip of a Took, the Thain's son, no less, attempt to throw his weight around well, Hay knew there was a fight brewing and he knew he wanted none of it. He was planning his escape. He wanted to get up but he was caught between Frodo and Lotho, stuck in the middle, literally and figuratively. He hoped beyond all measure that he didn't get a broken nose or loose any teeth.
Lotho came unglued at the hinges as Frodo did nothing to chastise the insolent tween. He was up and out of his seat in a flash with a look of pure indignation. Lotho was not one to fight with his fists. He was "too delicate" as his mother put it, but he was a big lad, bigger than Pippin. And he was angry.
Now that he was freed up, Hay was working his way out from behind the table too. Though anyone looking on would have thought it was to throw his own significant brawn into the fray and not that it was an attempt to make an escape.
Sam was beginning to really worry now that he'd have to wade in and fetch the lad out of this mess he clearly had no idea he had made. Sam's Gaffer would forbade him to come out in the evenings for a year if he caught wind of his youngest son being in a bar brawl. Stupid Took. Hang them all with a new rope!
Frodo still sat, hands splayed out on the table in front of him, face a mask of calm, as if nothing untoward were happening. "Lotho, dearest cousin. Please sit. You know Peregrin is not serious. He's a Took. He's never serious, you know that as well as any sensible hobbit."
Lotho looked over at Frodo accusingly. He said a very nasty comment about not knowing which was the better side of the family, especially seeing how he was SUPPOSED to be a Baggins. "No wonder my mother and father were so upset when Uncle Bilbo chose you over me for his heir. You're a poor choice to waste all the money on and not even a close relation at that! You're nothing but a wild East Farthing git!"
Now this was just too much for Sam and he tried to step in and defend his master's honor, seeing how Frodo was doing nothing about it and this was degenerating so badly there probably wasn't no way out of it except by being bodily thrown out. "You see here now, Mister Lotho Sacksville-Baggins! Mister Frodo Baggins was given Bag End legally, not because of some misread family tree but because he were right fond of Mister Frodo. And that were because Mister Frodo showed him respect and appreciation and love and that's probably somethin' you've probably never thought about." Sam's fists were clenched at his sides and he was visibly holding himself in check.
Sam's outburst was repaid to a seriously high degree. He got a mouth full from Lotho about not knowing a servant's place. The tongue lashing continued for less than two counts but it seemed an eternity, especially to Pippin who by this time had reasoned that he didn't stand a chance if they took down Sam. He never was good at brawling and he knew Frodo would be minced meat if he stepped in. By this time Finnos had rejoined the group and those Boffins were BIG. Frodo sighed, Hay patted him congenially on the shoulder having been at the receiving end of too many of Lotho's rants. To everyone except Sam and Pippin, it looked like just another shouting match between Lotho and insert-the-currently-out-of-favor-person-here. To Samwise and Peregrin, new to the pub scene at the Old Mother Red Cap, it looked like they were to be diced and sliced and thrown to the pigs.
The music played on, a lively tune*, difficult to understand with it's thickly accented South Farthing brogue. The patrons still shouted amiably and the barmaids still made their rounds. Life went on as usual at the Red Cap.
Lotho finished the tirade with a hiss like a rasher put on a hot griddle. "When I have Bag End, you will most certainly NOT be the gardener!!"
"Oh, as if I'd come beggin' for a job from the likes of you!" Now Sam was spoiling for a round with this no good excuse for a hobbit. His fists came up to the ready. Finnos ducked behind his brother. Pippin stepped back and thought a second time about how he for the life of him couldn't remember how this all started.
Fatty's arm came up and around Sam's shoulder's faster than a cat smelling fish. He moved up so quick that no one remembered seeing him. "Here now lad, what say you and I have an ale and I introduce you for a chat with that lass what's been eyeing you all evening?" Using his ample bulk, he effortless spun the stunned Sam about and started making for the other side of the room, arm still firmly around Sam. In passing the young took, he clamped another meaty arm about Pippin's thin shoulders and without bothering to turn the youngster about marched the two confused hobbits up to the bar, Pippin backwards and Sam stunned, winking at the barmaid who'd served him his last ale.
Sam hadn't remembered any lass making eyes at him but here was Mister Freddy insisting he meet Amaryllis Sweetwater. He didn't catch what Mister Freddy whispered into her ear as Mister Freddy scooped up the still shocked Mister Pippin and headed to the back of the room. Sam tried to follow but was stopped up short by Amaryllis. "My friends call me Amy." He turned a deep shade of red which only seemed to encourage the bold hobbit lass.
The barstaff was quite used to these quick jousts and responded with amazing speed with 4 new ales to the table now sporting one sitting hobbit and three standing. Taking his cue from his brother who plopped down next to Frodo, Fin sat quickly and took an enormous drink from his mug. Lotho was beginning to feel the fool for being the only one standing when all in need of abuse had either left or remained seated.
"Now, cousin, would you care to consider lending your expertise to this greatly needed venture or should I find someone more desirous of recognition" Frodo had put aside all pretenses to hit the point home. He was in a hurry before his anger took over where Sam had left off.
Lotho sat in silence mulling over the thought, trying to figure out just how he could put down this upstart and still manage to take over this already well organized and nearly finished, heading-for-success plan.
Frodo was content to let his cousin stew. He watched, somewhat amused as Sam tried to extricate himself from the obviously teasing bar maid. He started a bit when he noticed that the barmaid with the infamous yellow bodice (how could he miss that color even clear across the room) was actually sitting astride Pippin's lap with her hands combed through his hair. The look on Pippin's face said he wasn't going to last long with her experience. Ah, that Freddy. He was a marvel. How he could set up all this fun in just a few moments was beyond Frodo! He stifled the laugh that was threatening to break his studied concentration. It would spoil the effect he was having on Lotho. He'd finally learned how to deal with the twit. Calm silence or even calmer steady repetitious comments. Quite like talking to a toddler.
Silence still settled at the table of The Near Fight. Frodo'd had enough of Lotho for this round. "Think on it, cousin. I've another in mind, but I thought you might like first crack at it, seeing how you ARE family and all." He left the mug on the table, nodded at both Boffins and proceeded to save Sam from sure humiliation.
With a contrite Sam following close behind, Frodo wandered a bit, nodding at friends, shaking a few hands. Freddy was no where to be seen. Poor Pippin was so out of his depths with the barmaid turned vixen that Frodo was of two minds. Should he step in and prevent Pippin from embarrassing himself or should he just sit back and watch the wonderful show?
It was obvious to the barmaid that she could handle anything this youngster should throw at her, he was incredibly inexperienced. He didn't even know enough to try and unlace her bodice. She was enjoying this as much as the lad! How funny that her friend Fatty should ask her to pounce on this little mouse
Frodo had made up his mind. He grabbed the barmaid around the waist as she was going in for another kiss that would surely be the last thing Pippin remembered before he exploded from sheer pleasure. She turned in his arms, accepted the much more experienced kiss from the older lad and took her cue that her performance was over. She'd have a nice tip waiting for her when this lot left tonight, she smiled knowingly as she flounced back to the bar. Pippin was breathing so hard, Frodo had to wait a full set of songs before he could get the lad's attention proper. The serious dressing down about manners was a lost cause.
End Chapter 12
* Tranent Muir ~ The Tannahill Weavers "Best of 1979 - 1989"
http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=1209255&cart=124181300&style=music
Choice 3 is Tranent Muir. It is VERY lively. This is one of the Scots' great battle songs. The verse in the wavelet file is
"The bluff dragoons swore blood and oons they'd mak' the rebels run man
And yet they flee when them they see and winnae fire a gun man
They turned their backs the fit tae crack such terror siezed them a' man
Some wet their cheeks some fyled their breeks and some for fear did fa' man"
The Entire set of lyrics are on:
Lyrics are on:
http://members.aol.com/tannahills2/lyrics/1081lyr2.htm
