CHAPTER 15 : Icicles in the Night
The night passed into day with little fuss from the weakened Master Baggins. Marigold had prepared a bath in his room and meant to take him to it when he awoke. He was sleeping peacefully, snuggled against the covers and piled in quilts on the couch.
It had taken her some time and a lot of coaxing for him to reach this state. He had a lot of problems, this one, and she could see why Sam spent so much time here. Frodo needed care. He needed someone who could handle his odd behavior as well.
She did not think she was that person, however. She was far from a perfect candidate for Mrs. Frodo Baggins and she shuddered to think what her father was going to say of the fix she'd gotten into not to mention the rest of Hobbiton!
Hopefully, the Gaffer would understand. Hamfast Gamgee tended to be more understanding than most, as he was a bit dotty himself given that he'd worked so long for Mr. Bilbo Baggins and put up with a lot more strangeness from that one.
Marigold had prepared a little breakfast of eggs and fresh apple-muffins, and it was kept warm under a cover on the stove. The ice was thick outside, and she had a feeling not many people would attempt to venture out in it, in fact. It was everywhere, even on the tree branches and on some branches as thick as two fists. She had not been able to get the door open for it was wedged shut with about a foot of ice in front of it, and her energy was spent having taken care of the Baggins all night long so she had not tried to go outside, but had opened a window to let some fresh air in for an hour.
In Frodo's Study however, she kept the fire burning cheerily and made sure the place was nice and warm. She'd found clothing of his and laid them out on his bed. She put a kettle of hot water ready for when he woke up. She was not going to let him get away with not taking a bath…for he needed one.
Frodo stirred when she came in with a pot of tea and laid it down nearby. His eyes fluttered open and he glanced hazily about the room. They finally settled on Marigold and he tried to talk but found that nothing came out. His throat was terribly soar and the only thing that he could remotely manage was a whimper. Marigold frowned at him for a moment when she saw him struggling to speak and shook her head. His eyes were bloodshot and he trembled every now and again as though from cold.
She poured him the tea and stirred in some cream and sugar. His hands were shaking too much to hold the tea properly so she had to hold in in the end despite his look of protest. She did not take no for an answer, and Frodo found himself obeying much to his annoyance. He hoped Sam would come by soon…the longer Marigold was alone with him…the more danger she was in from wagging tongues.
She had him drink a bit more of the tea and finally he managed to find a bit of his voice.
"Thank-you." It was barely a whisper but it was all he could manage. He steadied his hands, still clutching the ring in one of his fists. He had no idea why he'd suddenly needed it last night, but it had been a draw that he couldn't fight against. He had had no choice.
"Don't thank me yet, Master Baggins. For you're going to have to get to your feet and lean on me. I've a nice bath waiting for you and believe you and me….you need it."
Frodo started to protest, but she would have none of it. Finally…he relented and found enough strength to lean against her as she helped him out of the study and down the hallway towards his own bedroom. It was better after all, for he needed to be curled up in bed right now. As she helped him he snuck a glance at her. She was not Chloe…no…and there was an endearing quality to her that was beginning to grow on him. She was caught in a precarious situation and was making the best of it. He had to respect that. Most lady hobbits would have cracked under the pressure by now, but Marigold seemed to still be calm and in control even while half carrying, half dragging, the very weak Master of Baggins who was wearing only a blanket.
She saw him put something shiny in the top drawer near his bed as she went to get the hot water kettle and returned a few moments later. It was the thing he'd been clutching in his fist all night long and she wondered curiously what it was.
She poured the hot water into the bath and watched the steam rise up. Putting her hand into the water she tested it and nodded. "Its not too hot Mr. Frodo." she said briskly, "I put some salts in it so the water will foam a bit…and I'll just be in the kitchen…." With that, Marigold walked out of the bedroom to let him take care of business. She'd seen enough him already one night to not want to have to deal with him unclothed again.
Frodo wasn't feeling too well. His stomach was growling with a mixture dizziness from lack of food and too much alcohol. He rubbed his eyes when she left and staggered over to the bathtub. He wished Marigold was one of his aunts…or even an uncle…or even the Gaffer at that. He didn't think he'd be able to make it out of the tub…but it looked so nice…and he felt wretched.
He stumbled over to the tub and discarded the blanket, crawling into it and sighing in relief as he sank under the water and laid his head back. It felt -sooo- good. She'd put salts in too, and he often forgot to do that. He glanced over to the fireplace to see that she had started a fire in his room as well so that it would be nice and warm. Clothes were laid out on his bed, as well as a nightshirt. The bed was turned down and pillows were fluffed up and inviting. He took as deep a breath as he could and could smell breakfast in the kitchen.
She wasn't Chloe…no. And if he really thought about it, Bilbo had been right all along. If he had married her things might have been different, but he would have been more ostracized from society then he was now. Maybe he should finish reading the journals…but it was too painful. It hurt too much to look back to the past. He couldn't change it anyway. He had to pull himself together if he was going to carry the Ring out of the Shire and complete Gandalf's orders.
He'd loved her…at least he thought he had. But when he thought back she had not really done anything more than cuddle him and take care of him with Bilbo's help….and he'd clung to her…because she had looked like his mother. Marigold was a breath of fresh air. She was full of life and spirit and hearty and kind. It was time to let go of his memories and move on. This was his last winter in the Shire….maybe forever. He did not really have much left to come back to though it really was nice to have salts in the bath…and to smell apple-cinnamon muffins freshly baked…he could get used to it.
Marigold knocked on the door, she had a fresh kettle of warm water and looked away. "Mr. Frodo? Do you need some more water…?"
Thankfully…the bubbles were hiding most of Frodo's body but did not hide the blush. He half smiled at her as ventured closer and nodded. He felt weak though, despite the warm water, and he could barely lift his arms. He did not know -how- to ask for help though. Had she been Sam…he wouldn't have thought twice about it, but she was a lass.
"Please…" scratched his throat. She also carried with her something for him to drink and he took the glass of juice eagerly as she poured the kettle's contents into the bath to warm it up. She looked away from him, a little blush creeping up her neck and ears.
He managed to hold the glass…but his hand was still shaky and she noticed right away. Not hesitating for a minute she reached over and held his hand steady so that he could drink. He blinked and looked over at her…their eyes meeting. Frodo's mind was swimming with strange feelings that he'd never experienced in such a jumble before. She helped him hold the glass, smiling gently as he took several more sips from it, savoring the flavor…and never once looking elsewhere.
"Marigold Gamgee!" the voice of Samwise Gamgee was filled with horror from the doorway. "What in the Shire are you doing?!"
* * *
TBC
The night passed into day with little fuss from the weakened Master Baggins. Marigold had prepared a bath in his room and meant to take him to it when he awoke. He was sleeping peacefully, snuggled against the covers and piled in quilts on the couch.
It had taken her some time and a lot of coaxing for him to reach this state. He had a lot of problems, this one, and she could see why Sam spent so much time here. Frodo needed care. He needed someone who could handle his odd behavior as well.
She did not think she was that person, however. She was far from a perfect candidate for Mrs. Frodo Baggins and she shuddered to think what her father was going to say of the fix she'd gotten into not to mention the rest of Hobbiton!
Hopefully, the Gaffer would understand. Hamfast Gamgee tended to be more understanding than most, as he was a bit dotty himself given that he'd worked so long for Mr. Bilbo Baggins and put up with a lot more strangeness from that one.
Marigold had prepared a little breakfast of eggs and fresh apple-muffins, and it was kept warm under a cover on the stove. The ice was thick outside, and she had a feeling not many people would attempt to venture out in it, in fact. It was everywhere, even on the tree branches and on some branches as thick as two fists. She had not been able to get the door open for it was wedged shut with about a foot of ice in front of it, and her energy was spent having taken care of the Baggins all night long so she had not tried to go outside, but had opened a window to let some fresh air in for an hour.
In Frodo's Study however, she kept the fire burning cheerily and made sure the place was nice and warm. She'd found clothing of his and laid them out on his bed. She put a kettle of hot water ready for when he woke up. She was not going to let him get away with not taking a bath…for he needed one.
Frodo stirred when she came in with a pot of tea and laid it down nearby. His eyes fluttered open and he glanced hazily about the room. They finally settled on Marigold and he tried to talk but found that nothing came out. His throat was terribly soar and the only thing that he could remotely manage was a whimper. Marigold frowned at him for a moment when she saw him struggling to speak and shook her head. His eyes were bloodshot and he trembled every now and again as though from cold.
She poured him the tea and stirred in some cream and sugar. His hands were shaking too much to hold the tea properly so she had to hold in in the end despite his look of protest. She did not take no for an answer, and Frodo found himself obeying much to his annoyance. He hoped Sam would come by soon…the longer Marigold was alone with him…the more danger she was in from wagging tongues.
She had him drink a bit more of the tea and finally he managed to find a bit of his voice.
"Thank-you." It was barely a whisper but it was all he could manage. He steadied his hands, still clutching the ring in one of his fists. He had no idea why he'd suddenly needed it last night, but it had been a draw that he couldn't fight against. He had had no choice.
"Don't thank me yet, Master Baggins. For you're going to have to get to your feet and lean on me. I've a nice bath waiting for you and believe you and me….you need it."
Frodo started to protest, but she would have none of it. Finally…he relented and found enough strength to lean against her as she helped him out of the study and down the hallway towards his own bedroom. It was better after all, for he needed to be curled up in bed right now. As she helped him he snuck a glance at her. She was not Chloe…no…and there was an endearing quality to her that was beginning to grow on him. She was caught in a precarious situation and was making the best of it. He had to respect that. Most lady hobbits would have cracked under the pressure by now, but Marigold seemed to still be calm and in control even while half carrying, half dragging, the very weak Master of Baggins who was wearing only a blanket.
She saw him put something shiny in the top drawer near his bed as she went to get the hot water kettle and returned a few moments later. It was the thing he'd been clutching in his fist all night long and she wondered curiously what it was.
She poured the hot water into the bath and watched the steam rise up. Putting her hand into the water she tested it and nodded. "Its not too hot Mr. Frodo." she said briskly, "I put some salts in it so the water will foam a bit…and I'll just be in the kitchen…." With that, Marigold walked out of the bedroom to let him take care of business. She'd seen enough him already one night to not want to have to deal with him unclothed again.
Frodo wasn't feeling too well. His stomach was growling with a mixture dizziness from lack of food and too much alcohol. He rubbed his eyes when she left and staggered over to the bathtub. He wished Marigold was one of his aunts…or even an uncle…or even the Gaffer at that. He didn't think he'd be able to make it out of the tub…but it looked so nice…and he felt wretched.
He stumbled over to the tub and discarded the blanket, crawling into it and sighing in relief as he sank under the water and laid his head back. It felt -sooo- good. She'd put salts in too, and he often forgot to do that. He glanced over to the fireplace to see that she had started a fire in his room as well so that it would be nice and warm. Clothes were laid out on his bed, as well as a nightshirt. The bed was turned down and pillows were fluffed up and inviting. He took as deep a breath as he could and could smell breakfast in the kitchen.
She wasn't Chloe…no. And if he really thought about it, Bilbo had been right all along. If he had married her things might have been different, but he would have been more ostracized from society then he was now. Maybe he should finish reading the journals…but it was too painful. It hurt too much to look back to the past. He couldn't change it anyway. He had to pull himself together if he was going to carry the Ring out of the Shire and complete Gandalf's orders.
He'd loved her…at least he thought he had. But when he thought back she had not really done anything more than cuddle him and take care of him with Bilbo's help….and he'd clung to her…because she had looked like his mother. Marigold was a breath of fresh air. She was full of life and spirit and hearty and kind. It was time to let go of his memories and move on. This was his last winter in the Shire….maybe forever. He did not really have much left to come back to though it really was nice to have salts in the bath…and to smell apple-cinnamon muffins freshly baked…he could get used to it.
Marigold knocked on the door, she had a fresh kettle of warm water and looked away. "Mr. Frodo? Do you need some more water…?"
Thankfully…the bubbles were hiding most of Frodo's body but did not hide the blush. He half smiled at her as ventured closer and nodded. He felt weak though, despite the warm water, and he could barely lift his arms. He did not know -how- to ask for help though. Had she been Sam…he wouldn't have thought twice about it, but she was a lass.
"Please…" scratched his throat. She also carried with her something for him to drink and he took the glass of juice eagerly as she poured the kettle's contents into the bath to warm it up. She looked away from him, a little blush creeping up her neck and ears.
He managed to hold the glass…but his hand was still shaky and she noticed right away. Not hesitating for a minute she reached over and held his hand steady so that he could drink. He blinked and looked over at her…their eyes meeting. Frodo's mind was swimming with strange feelings that he'd never experienced in such a jumble before. She helped him hold the glass, smiling gently as he took several more sips from it, savoring the flavor…and never once looking elsewhere.
"Marigold Gamgee!" the voice of Samwise Gamgee was filled with horror from the doorway. "What in the Shire are you doing?!"
* * *
TBC