Disclaimer-same as before-don't own any of the little dears except the
original ones.
A/N-This chapter foreshadows events in FOTR, Book I, Chapter 5, "A Conspiracy Unmasked."
A/N-Ok, the Black Riders weren't able to make it to the wedding in Chapter 3, but they are coming and soon. After that, on to the Scouring of the Shire!
A Garden Variety Plot Chapter Three
It took two or three tries before Dom could pry his eyes open. They felt glued shut. When he did, he thought wildly for a moment he'd gone blind, for he could see nothing. Then he realized that it was now fully dark in the kitchen garden. His eyes quickly adjusted to see the dim shapes of herbs and vegetables, and the tall shadow of the garden hedge. There was a crick in his neck from falling asleep on the wooden bench and leaning against the tree. His mouth tasted truly foul.
He looked down beside him to find a plate of food wrapped in a white cloth sitting on the bench. "Sam, my lad," he thought gratefully. "You are a prince among hobbits."
The appetizing aroma of kidney pie and broiled mushrooms reminded him no hobbit should go as long without food as he had today. And next to the plate was a large mug of sweetly tart cider. He drank thirstily and drained the mug to the last drops. He set it down with a contented sigh, wryly noting that Sam had not brought the hard stuff, but the cider reserved for maidens and children.
He picked up the fork and knife he found lying next to the plate wrapped in a cloth napkin and ate hungrily. Even if it wasn't hot, it tasted delicious. As he ate, memories of his conversation with Sam returned to him. He groaned aloud as his mind obligingly replayed his behavior over the entire afternoon, including that devastating kiss with Periwinkle. Unfortunately, being drunk had not obliterated a single humiliating moment.
The food turned to ashes in his mouth. What he had already consumed threatened to make a second appearance. He put down the plate on the bench beside him and tried to think. How on earth he was ever going face his brother, his parents or worse, Periwinkle, ever again? Mad plans for disappearing into the Old Forest or conveniently getting himself drowned in the Brandywine River whirled uselessly in his head.
In an effort to get some relief from his chaotic thoughts, Dom tried to concentrate on the night sounds around him. Crickets droned their lazy nighttime song. There was still a faint murmur of music and voices in the formal garden, but he could also hear the clink and clatter of dishes and tables being collected. The wedding party was ending.
Closer by, Dom became aware of voices not making desultory party chit-chat, but conversing in intense and purposeful, almost angry, tones. He peered around his tree and could barely make out some figures in a shadowed corner of the kitchen garden behind him. One of the hobbits appeared very familiar. It was Sam!
Dom almost called out, but something in the way that the three figures leaned toward each other and Sam looked over his shoulder as if to assure they were alone, made it clear this was a private, even secret, conversation. For reasons Dom did not understand himself, except perhaps as a distraction from his own problems, he crept forward silently and listened.
"Are you sure you've told us everything, Sam? You have been our informer for far too long to hold back now." It was Meriadoc Brandybuck that spoke. Dom was at a loss. What in the name of the Shire was going on?
"Aye, Mr. Merry. I've told you everything I heard." Sam's voice sounded upset. "I don't feel right tellin' you all this but I just can't let Mr. Frodo go through with it! I'll do whatever I can to make sure he gets what he deserves."
"Good, Sam. I knew we could count on you, though after Gandalf caught you, you dried up on us. But now you've come over to our side again." Merry said.
He appeared not to notice Sam's muttered "It wasn't you that was going to be turned into a spotted toad in a garden full of snakes."
"It's all arranged. You, and Pippin here," Merry gestured to the third figure and Dom was astonished to see the last conspirator was Pippin Took. "Will get Frodo to Crickhollow by September 24 and Fatty Bolger and I will be waiting for him. We'll spring it on Frodo then. We won't let him get away from us." Merry sounded determined and businesslike in a way Dom did not associate with the carelessly clever lad-about-town he thought he knew.
Pippin spoke and Dom was absurdly relieved to hear Pippin, at least, sounded normal. "Cheer up, you two. This will be a real adventure. Once we've got Frodo where we want him, he'll have to go along. I can't wait!"
Sam said fiercely, "You haven't got a lick of sense, Mr. Pippin, if you don't take this seriously. 'A flight from danger into danger.'* That's what we're doing, and don't you forget it. Treat this like a walking holiday to Frogmorton and the Dark Lord will have you before you can say Bullroarer Took!"
Even Pippin seemed subdued by this. Dom, himself, felt a cold hand clutch his heart when Sam mentioned the Dark Lord with real fear in his voice. What on earth was Sam playing at that could involve the Enemy? Besides, there was no Dark Lord anymore, was there?
Merry put his arm around his cousin. "Come on, Pip." He said quietly. "Let's get back to the party. Your sisters will be wondering where you are."
Merry turned to Sam. "I'll trust you to get them safely to Crickhollow on time. And, I have your word? You won't tell Frodo anything about this?" Merry stared hard at Sam, reminding Dom one day this young hobbit would be Master of Buckland.
"You have my word, Mr. Merry." Sam sounded defeated. "I'll keep this secret. But only because I think it's the best way to deal with Mr. Frodo."
What could Sam mean? Dom could not bring himself to believe it was really what it appeared to be-a conspiracy of some sort against Frodo Baggins by his closest relatives and friends.
Dom quickly assumed a pose of sleep as Merry and Pippin walked by several feet from his bench. Sam wandered over a few minutes later and stood indecisively with his back toward Dom.
"What's going on, Sam?" Dom said not bothering to keep his voice down. Whispered plots in the dark were as distasteful to him as he once thought they were to Sam Gamgee.
"Arghhh!" Cried Sam in surprise and spun around. "Dom! You scared me half out of my wits, which I can't afford to lose."
"I said, what's going on Sam," Dom repeated firmly. "I heard your little conspiracy over there. What are you involved in?"
"I don't know what you're talking.." Sam looked at Dom and trailed off.
Sam stood for a long moment and then seemed to give in. He came and sat down next to his friend.
"I can't believe you would be involved in anything that meant plotting against Frodo Baggins, Sam Gamgee." Said Dom. "I thought you liked him. You can never say enough good things about him. You were even willing to leave your family and your home to move away with him." Suddenly the truth dawned in his mind. "This all has something to do with the move to Crickhollow, and Frodo selling Bag End, doesn't it?"
"I can't tell you what's going on, Dom. I've given my word and to break it would bring danger to us all." Sam looked pleadingly at Domfast. "Trust me when I say we don't mean no harm to anyone, least of all Master Frodo. We're doing it to help him."
"All right, Sam. I can more readily believe you are trying to help Frodo than do him harm, but it all seems pretty shady to me. All this sneaking around with Tooks and Brandybucks." Dom shook his head. "So, what do you want me to do?"
Sam was startled. "You don't need to do anything, other than forget you ever heard us tonight." Dom started to object when Sam, looking at him speculatively said. "Maybe there is something you could do."
"You have but to ask, you know that, Sam." Dom said simply.
Sam hesitated for long time, then took a deep breath and spoke. "I'll likely be leaving the Shire soon, Dom. There's a chance, a good chance maybe, that I won't be back." Sam held up his hand to stop the words he saw about to explode from his friend's lips. "I can't tell you more than that and wouldn't if I could. It's safer for you that way."
"What I want to ask, is if you'll look after the Gaffer, should anything happen. No, just listen to me." Sam cut Dom's denials and demands for explanations off again.
"My older brothers have all moved on to other parts of the Shire and the girls have their own families and worries. The Gaffer will never leave Bag Shot Row and would never ask for help if he needed it. I know I could count on you and Ivo to make sure he has what he needs if," his voice broke. "If I wasn't here."
"Sam, I don't what you've gotten yourself into and I am going to find out, eventually." Dom warned his friend. "But I will promise to look after the Gaffer, if you will stop this nonsense about never coming back. Because if you don't come back, I would," he desperately cast about for a dire enough threat. "I would just marry Rosie Cotton!"
There, thought Dom smugly, if that doesn't keep him here, nothing will. Sam Gamgee had loved Rosie Cotton since they were children and she and her brothers had joined Sam and the twins paddling around the Bywater Pool.
Sam straightened and for a moment his eyes flashed angrily, then he subsided as he guessed Dom's tactics. "And to think I thought you were foolish for not telling Periwinkle how you felt, Dom. Here I am, loving my Rosie so long I can't ever remember not loving her and I've not brought myself to propose in all these years."
"Always felt there was something else I had to accomplish first, I guess. And now I think I know what it is." Sam said sadly. "I don't know if she'll ever understand why I'm leaving. I may never be able to explain it to her."
Finally Dom began to believe Sam was serious about having to leave the Shire and maybe not coming back. "I'll tell her, Sam. If it's ever necessary, I'll tell her how much Samwise Gamgee, the finest hobbit I've ever known, loved his Rosie."
By unspoken agreement, the hobbits now fell silent. There was nothing more to be said, no more promises to be made. Sam drew out his pipe and filled it in smiling defiance with Old Toby pipe weed. Dom shook his head mournfully over this betrayal and filled his own with last year's finest Longbottom Leaf. He struck a light with his flint and steel to a twist of grass pulled up from the ground near his feet, lit his own pipe and then Sam's.
The two friends puffed away companionably. A friend, a pipe, a quiet Shire evening. In this time, in this place, the gathering storm clouds parted for awhile and life was just fine.
*Direct quote from Fellowship of the Ring, JRR Tolkien.
A/N-This chapter foreshadows events in FOTR, Book I, Chapter 5, "A Conspiracy Unmasked."
A/N-Ok, the Black Riders weren't able to make it to the wedding in Chapter 3, but they are coming and soon. After that, on to the Scouring of the Shire!
A Garden Variety Plot Chapter Three
It took two or three tries before Dom could pry his eyes open. They felt glued shut. When he did, he thought wildly for a moment he'd gone blind, for he could see nothing. Then he realized that it was now fully dark in the kitchen garden. His eyes quickly adjusted to see the dim shapes of herbs and vegetables, and the tall shadow of the garden hedge. There was a crick in his neck from falling asleep on the wooden bench and leaning against the tree. His mouth tasted truly foul.
He looked down beside him to find a plate of food wrapped in a white cloth sitting on the bench. "Sam, my lad," he thought gratefully. "You are a prince among hobbits."
The appetizing aroma of kidney pie and broiled mushrooms reminded him no hobbit should go as long without food as he had today. And next to the plate was a large mug of sweetly tart cider. He drank thirstily and drained the mug to the last drops. He set it down with a contented sigh, wryly noting that Sam had not brought the hard stuff, but the cider reserved for maidens and children.
He picked up the fork and knife he found lying next to the plate wrapped in a cloth napkin and ate hungrily. Even if it wasn't hot, it tasted delicious. As he ate, memories of his conversation with Sam returned to him. He groaned aloud as his mind obligingly replayed his behavior over the entire afternoon, including that devastating kiss with Periwinkle. Unfortunately, being drunk had not obliterated a single humiliating moment.
The food turned to ashes in his mouth. What he had already consumed threatened to make a second appearance. He put down the plate on the bench beside him and tried to think. How on earth he was ever going face his brother, his parents or worse, Periwinkle, ever again? Mad plans for disappearing into the Old Forest or conveniently getting himself drowned in the Brandywine River whirled uselessly in his head.
In an effort to get some relief from his chaotic thoughts, Dom tried to concentrate on the night sounds around him. Crickets droned their lazy nighttime song. There was still a faint murmur of music and voices in the formal garden, but he could also hear the clink and clatter of dishes and tables being collected. The wedding party was ending.
Closer by, Dom became aware of voices not making desultory party chit-chat, but conversing in intense and purposeful, almost angry, tones. He peered around his tree and could barely make out some figures in a shadowed corner of the kitchen garden behind him. One of the hobbits appeared very familiar. It was Sam!
Dom almost called out, but something in the way that the three figures leaned toward each other and Sam looked over his shoulder as if to assure they were alone, made it clear this was a private, even secret, conversation. For reasons Dom did not understand himself, except perhaps as a distraction from his own problems, he crept forward silently and listened.
"Are you sure you've told us everything, Sam? You have been our informer for far too long to hold back now." It was Meriadoc Brandybuck that spoke. Dom was at a loss. What in the name of the Shire was going on?
"Aye, Mr. Merry. I've told you everything I heard." Sam's voice sounded upset. "I don't feel right tellin' you all this but I just can't let Mr. Frodo go through with it! I'll do whatever I can to make sure he gets what he deserves."
"Good, Sam. I knew we could count on you, though after Gandalf caught you, you dried up on us. But now you've come over to our side again." Merry said.
He appeared not to notice Sam's muttered "It wasn't you that was going to be turned into a spotted toad in a garden full of snakes."
"It's all arranged. You, and Pippin here," Merry gestured to the third figure and Dom was astonished to see the last conspirator was Pippin Took. "Will get Frodo to Crickhollow by September 24 and Fatty Bolger and I will be waiting for him. We'll spring it on Frodo then. We won't let him get away from us." Merry sounded determined and businesslike in a way Dom did not associate with the carelessly clever lad-about-town he thought he knew.
Pippin spoke and Dom was absurdly relieved to hear Pippin, at least, sounded normal. "Cheer up, you two. This will be a real adventure. Once we've got Frodo where we want him, he'll have to go along. I can't wait!"
Sam said fiercely, "You haven't got a lick of sense, Mr. Pippin, if you don't take this seriously. 'A flight from danger into danger.'* That's what we're doing, and don't you forget it. Treat this like a walking holiday to Frogmorton and the Dark Lord will have you before you can say Bullroarer Took!"
Even Pippin seemed subdued by this. Dom, himself, felt a cold hand clutch his heart when Sam mentioned the Dark Lord with real fear in his voice. What on earth was Sam playing at that could involve the Enemy? Besides, there was no Dark Lord anymore, was there?
Merry put his arm around his cousin. "Come on, Pip." He said quietly. "Let's get back to the party. Your sisters will be wondering where you are."
Merry turned to Sam. "I'll trust you to get them safely to Crickhollow on time. And, I have your word? You won't tell Frodo anything about this?" Merry stared hard at Sam, reminding Dom one day this young hobbit would be Master of Buckland.
"You have my word, Mr. Merry." Sam sounded defeated. "I'll keep this secret. But only because I think it's the best way to deal with Mr. Frodo."
What could Sam mean? Dom could not bring himself to believe it was really what it appeared to be-a conspiracy of some sort against Frodo Baggins by his closest relatives and friends.
Dom quickly assumed a pose of sleep as Merry and Pippin walked by several feet from his bench. Sam wandered over a few minutes later and stood indecisively with his back toward Dom.
"What's going on, Sam?" Dom said not bothering to keep his voice down. Whispered plots in the dark were as distasteful to him as he once thought they were to Sam Gamgee.
"Arghhh!" Cried Sam in surprise and spun around. "Dom! You scared me half out of my wits, which I can't afford to lose."
"I said, what's going on Sam," Dom repeated firmly. "I heard your little conspiracy over there. What are you involved in?"
"I don't know what you're talking.." Sam looked at Dom and trailed off.
Sam stood for a long moment and then seemed to give in. He came and sat down next to his friend.
"I can't believe you would be involved in anything that meant plotting against Frodo Baggins, Sam Gamgee." Said Dom. "I thought you liked him. You can never say enough good things about him. You were even willing to leave your family and your home to move away with him." Suddenly the truth dawned in his mind. "This all has something to do with the move to Crickhollow, and Frodo selling Bag End, doesn't it?"
"I can't tell you what's going on, Dom. I've given my word and to break it would bring danger to us all." Sam looked pleadingly at Domfast. "Trust me when I say we don't mean no harm to anyone, least of all Master Frodo. We're doing it to help him."
"All right, Sam. I can more readily believe you are trying to help Frodo than do him harm, but it all seems pretty shady to me. All this sneaking around with Tooks and Brandybucks." Dom shook his head. "So, what do you want me to do?"
Sam was startled. "You don't need to do anything, other than forget you ever heard us tonight." Dom started to object when Sam, looking at him speculatively said. "Maybe there is something you could do."
"You have but to ask, you know that, Sam." Dom said simply.
Sam hesitated for long time, then took a deep breath and spoke. "I'll likely be leaving the Shire soon, Dom. There's a chance, a good chance maybe, that I won't be back." Sam held up his hand to stop the words he saw about to explode from his friend's lips. "I can't tell you more than that and wouldn't if I could. It's safer for you that way."
"What I want to ask, is if you'll look after the Gaffer, should anything happen. No, just listen to me." Sam cut Dom's denials and demands for explanations off again.
"My older brothers have all moved on to other parts of the Shire and the girls have their own families and worries. The Gaffer will never leave Bag Shot Row and would never ask for help if he needed it. I know I could count on you and Ivo to make sure he has what he needs if," his voice broke. "If I wasn't here."
"Sam, I don't what you've gotten yourself into and I am going to find out, eventually." Dom warned his friend. "But I will promise to look after the Gaffer, if you will stop this nonsense about never coming back. Because if you don't come back, I would," he desperately cast about for a dire enough threat. "I would just marry Rosie Cotton!"
There, thought Dom smugly, if that doesn't keep him here, nothing will. Sam Gamgee had loved Rosie Cotton since they were children and she and her brothers had joined Sam and the twins paddling around the Bywater Pool.
Sam straightened and for a moment his eyes flashed angrily, then he subsided as he guessed Dom's tactics. "And to think I thought you were foolish for not telling Periwinkle how you felt, Dom. Here I am, loving my Rosie so long I can't ever remember not loving her and I've not brought myself to propose in all these years."
"Always felt there was something else I had to accomplish first, I guess. And now I think I know what it is." Sam said sadly. "I don't know if she'll ever understand why I'm leaving. I may never be able to explain it to her."
Finally Dom began to believe Sam was serious about having to leave the Shire and maybe not coming back. "I'll tell her, Sam. If it's ever necessary, I'll tell her how much Samwise Gamgee, the finest hobbit I've ever known, loved his Rosie."
By unspoken agreement, the hobbits now fell silent. There was nothing more to be said, no more promises to be made. Sam drew out his pipe and filled it in smiling defiance with Old Toby pipe weed. Dom shook his head mournfully over this betrayal and filled his own with last year's finest Longbottom Leaf. He struck a light with his flint and steel to a twist of grass pulled up from the ground near his feet, lit his own pipe and then Sam's.
The two friends puffed away companionably. A friend, a pipe, a quiet Shire evening. In this time, in this place, the gathering storm clouds parted for awhile and life was just fine.
*Direct quote from Fellowship of the Ring, JRR Tolkien.