Chapter 7 Title: Little Tongues Chapter rating: R (language, mild violence)

Ted Wyncot was buried the next day in his family's private plot behind the family's smial hill.

In his grief and sorrow, Ted's father burned everything in the room in which his son died. The bed, the sheets, the side tables, the trunk at the foot of the bed, the chest of drawers and its contents, the rug, even the candelabra stands were burned. Anything that had a speck of blood was hauled out of the room and added to the pyre back behind the barn. Thick black smoke could be seen all the way to Hobbiton.

A couple of the Wyncot's farm hands and a servant girl had traveled into Hobbiton the night of Ted's death. By the next morning the main gossip of the town centered upon the physician, the Wyncots, and the mysterious Mister Baggins who was present during the treatment. Rumors ran ripe at the Green Dragon Inn.

"He was there with the doc. I saw him," said Stuart Thigpen, one of the Wyncot's hired hands. Stuart and the other farm lads were given the day off after the funeral. He was taking an early lunch at the Green Dragon. A small crowd of the curious had gathered around his table.

"Now, mind you, the doc, well . she did everything she could to save young Master Wyncot from what I could see peekin' in the winder. But I be thinkin' she arrived too late to be much good," Stuart continued. "Mistress Wyncot - now, she's taking it right hard like. She says the doc didn't do for her lad fast enough."

"Well, did she?" asked a voice from the crowd. It was May Bracegirdle, the town gossip.

"I don't rightly know about that," Stuart said as he took a sip of his beer. "The doc was awfully quick about things once she arrived. Oustin' the Mistress away from her poor, sick lad didn't sit too well with the family, I can tell ya that. Don't right know why Mister Baggins was with the doc though. But he must have done some holdin' down. They was both covered in blood, from head to toe. What an awful sight that were."

"That Frodo Baggins is nothin' but bad luck, I says," voiced Ted Sandyman. "Queer folk, them Bagginses. Always has been and always will be." Sandyman was up from the Bywater mill for his usual lunch. He had parked his walking stick and pack at his feet and was also enjoying a beer.

"Shut yer trap," snapped the innkeeper, shaking his finger at his offending customer. "I'll have no bad talk against Mister Baggins. Not in my establishment. He's a right fine gentlehobbit in my book. Don't you be forgettin' its him and his friends what liberated us from the Lockholes last year."

Chas Limekiln was one of the first hobbits incarcerated during Saruman's occupation of the Shire. He as a strong supporter of Frodo Baggins and his traveling companions, Samwise Gamgee, Meriodoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. Chas had become great friends with Fredigar Bolger, one of Frodo's friends who was also incarcerated in the Micheldelving Lockholds. Master Limekiln brooked no bad-mouthing of the saviors of the Shire.

"Naw, I'll never forget it," grumbled Ted. "It's him and his dim-wit friends what closed up my new mill too."

Ted Sandyman had always disliked Frodo and his buddies. It was a grudge which went back into their tweenage years, and had only grown worse recently. Ted had profited greatly from his association with Saruman and his henchmen after Frodo and his friends had mysteriously vanished one evening while on their way to Crickethollow. Ted's fortunes had swollen under Saruman's tight-fisted but short-lived reign. They had also fallen when Saruman was murdered and the Shirefolk turned against their overlords and collaborators.

Frodo had actually saved Ted Sandyman from the angry hobbit mob during the Rising of the Shire. There was talk of casting Ted out of the Four Farthings in retaliation for his collaboration with the Ruffian Men under Saruman's control. But Frodo had intervened, and Ted was allowed not only to remain in the Shire, but was given back his family's grist mill on the condition that all the new polluting mechanisms be removed and the mill restored to its original function. Ted Sandyman should have been grateful that his life was spared and his dignity restored. But he was not. He resented Frodo and his friends. If there was any way Ted Sandyman could get back at Frodo, he would do it.

"And a good thing they did," replied the innkeeper. "Spewing filth and garbage all over the place. Now Teddy, don't ya think goin' back to the old way of grindin' is better? Your mill is workin' just fine again. Just like it's supposed to. Now let Stuart finish his story without the interruptions."

"Well," said the farm lad, "there's not much more to tell. Old Master Wyncot has gone a bit off the edge. He's burnin' up everything in that death room. Can't says as I blame him though. Everythin' was covered in his son's blood."

"What a horrible way to die," clucked May. "Poor Mistress Wyncot. Not able to even hold her lad as he lay a-dying. What was the doctor thinking? Don't she have no feelings for a poor mother?"

"Well, now, Mistress Wyncot was hysterical-like," Stuart started defending the absent doctor. "I don't think Miss Proudfoot could have done nothin' ta help poor Teddy with his mother all flutterin' about and lecturin' everyone about what to do and whatnot."

"The doc was probably more interested in making a good impression on her beau than in taking care of her duty," Ted sarcastically sniped.

"Why, whatever are you insinuating, Ted Sandyman?" Shandy Merryweather spoke up.

"That Frodo Baggins has been thick as thieves with the new doc, or haven't you noticed?" Ted replied. 'This could be a wonderful way of getting back at that stinking meddling Baggins,' thought Ted.

"He's been sniffin' round her like a bull in heat for a couple months now," he continued, much to May's delight. "I think he's got designs on her, if ya catch my drift. Why, Miss Proudfoot's mind is probably all messed up by now with his outlandish tales of adventure and his strange wanderings about at night and such-like. Sure can't be good for doing medicine."

At that moment Sam walked into the bar, bearing a load of onions Chas Limekiln had ordered for the Inn's kitchen. Sam headed over to the back side of the bar, to deliver the basket of onions and to transact business with Mister Limekiln. Ted's back was to the doorway. Consequently, he was unaware of Sam's entrance. In fact, no one in the little gossip group was aware of Sam's presence. The talk continued unabated.

"She's a fine doctor," Shandy spoke up. Iris had treated him for a dislocated shoulder and he was not going to hear her reputation besmirched this way. "I don't care what you or Mistress Wyncot say. And you mind what you say about her personal life too. 'Tain't none of your business anyway."

Sam looked up at overhearing the word " . doctor." He couldn't make out the rest of the conversation, but he recognized all of the people gathered around Stuart Thigpen. Sam couldn't abide gossip. He tried to ignore it and continued transacting his business with the innkeeper.

"Well it becomes my business if the one and only Hobbiton doctor is running around with that strange Frodo Baggins," Ted snapped. "He's likely to effect her judgment. What was he doing out there at the Wyncot's anyway? He's got no medical training. He's got no training in any profession at all, far as I can tell. Probably did more harm than good out there."

Sam couldn't ignore that one. Overhearing the name "Frodo Baggins" coming out of Ted Sandyman's filthy mouth was more than he could bear. Sam placed the basket of onions on the floor and strode over to the group.

May could see him coming. She quickly backed away, but stayed close enough to overhear whatever was going to be said. Sam and Ted and Stuart had made her day! She would have more than enough to gossip about for weeks to come!

"Mind what you're saying about Master Baggins," Sam warned as he gripped Ted by the shoulders and spun him around in his chair.

"Here! Let go, ya big ox!" Ted shouted as the rest of the group quickly scattered. Chairs tipped over and Stuart's beer was spilled as the gossipers backed away from the two former friends.

Prior to the War, Sam held a reputation for being an nice, easy-going, gentle and somewhat shy hobbit who was easily embarrassed. But his actions during the Rising of the Shire (including ruthlessly killing in close hand- to-hand combat a Ruffian at least twice his size) left no doubt in everyone's mind as to how dangerous and grim he could become at a moment's notice.

And prior to the Quest, Sam had tolerated Ted Sandyman. Sam's easy-going nature prevented him from bad-mouthing anyone, even someone as obviously full-of-themselves as Ted was. Ted had mistaken Sam's tolerance for friendship, much to Sam's dismay. Only after Ted had publicly denigrated Frodo Baggins to Sam's face had he learned the truth. Sam despised the hobbit now in his grasp, and the feeling was mutual.

"Ah! Sam!" Ted choked. "I didn't see ya come in."

"That's nothing a fool couldn't figure out, Sandyman," Sam quietly said as he released his prey. Sam looked past Ted and spoke to Stuart. "Now what's goin' on here?"

"Oh, uh . nothin' Mister Gamgee, sir," sputtered Stuart. "We was just talkin' about poor Teddy Wyncot dyin' yesterday. That's all."

"Master Gamgee - I'll not be having you startin' a brawl in my place now," the innkeeper quietly addressed Sam. "No matter how provoked you get." He had come over from the bar and separated Sam and Ted. "If ya want to see to this little matter, take it outside after we've finished our business."

The innkeeper turned to Sandyman. "And you . Best be leavin' now if you know what's good fer ya. I think you've stirred up a hornet's nest, but that's your business and none of my own."

Ted shot Sam a black look, picked up his walking stick and pack, and shouldered his way out of the circle of on-lookers. In a second he was out the door.

A few of the gossips vanished through various exits. They had no stomach for going against Samwise Gamgee when he was in a foul mood. The rest of the Inn's customers settled back for a quiet, if somewhat nervous, lunch. After finishing transacting his business, Sam retrieved the empty basket and headed outside.

"Couldn't make up yer mind, eh, Sam? Which one's yer wife now, Sammie- lad?"

It was Sandyman again. He was waiting for Sam outside the Inn's round door, brandishing his walking stick and taunting the normally-gentle hobbit.

A small crowd of market goers and some of the gossips from the Inn gathered round. Sam blushed bright crimson, seething with anger at the insults. Hobbittesses with small children quickly shushed them away from the impending fight. Sam narrowed his eyes and stepped out away from the doorway.

"Look, Mister Sandyman, you can bad-mouth me and you can bad-mouth Mister Baggins to yer heart's content," he quietly said, "But you leave my wife out of your filthy talk, or so help me, I'll have at you right here and now."

"Oooo . Hit a nerve, did I?" Ted spat. He hated Sam more than ever. Sam had everything Ted had ever wanted; a fine reputation, the love of his friends, most of Bag End, and now the finest lass in the Shire as his devoted wife. Ted never was one who knew when and how control his mouth.

"Everyone knows you been bangin' Frodo for years," Ted continued the taunting. "Guess with those big blue eyes and lovely lashes he looks real pretty in Rosie's petticoats ."

He never got to finish the insult. Sam dropped the basket and punched Ted straight on the nose.

"Ya fucker! Shiest! Ya broke me nose!" Ted sputtered through the blood streaming down his face.

"I'll break more than yer nose if ya don't lay off bad-mouthing my wife and Mister Frodo, ya hear?" Sam growled and turned his back to retrieve his basket.

That was all it took. Ted lashed out at Sam with his walking stick. The stick struck Sam across his ribs with a loud thwack! Sam felt sharp pain in his side, but ignored it to turn and grab the stick as Ted swung a second time. Evidently, Ted wasn't expecting Sam to react so quickly. Ted was caught off-balance and tumbled to the dirt as Sam jerked the walking stick from his hands. Sam could hear someone scream and call for the doctor, but he ignored that as well.

He straddled Ted's prostrate form lying in the dust and deliberately snapped the stick in two above the frightened hobbit.

"You are a fool and a liar and a stinkin' arse-wipe, you . you . " Sam stuttered in his rage. "Take them hateful words back, you bastard, or I swear, I'll run this stick through a part of you what 'ill hurt so bad ya see stars!" Sam was holding the stick with the broken end directly over Ted's genitals.

"Sam! Samwise Gamgee! Stop it this instant!"

Sam was momentarily distracted by the voice and looked up. "Oh, shiest!" It was Rose. He had forgotten she had come with him to market today. "Shiest! Rose . I . uh ."

"Give me that stick!" Rose immediately demanded. She was standing next to her husband and would brook no nonsense.

Sam obeyed instantly. Hell hath no fury like a wife publicly embarrassed by her husband.

"Thank you dear Rose ." Ted squeaked through the blood.

"You! Shut up!" Rose snapped at Ted, who let out a small 'eep' and promptly lay as still as he could.

A young lass pushed her way through the circle of astounded onlookers, leading Iris Proudfoot to the scene of the crime. Iris had automatically grabbed her medical bag when the youngster had run into her office yelling her head off about a fight and needing a doctor. She stopped short upon seeing who it was.

There stood Sam, sweating up a storm and struggling to breathe. He was holding his left side with his right hand. "Probably a broken rib or two," thought Iris. Rose stood next to Sam, holding a broken walking stick. She was flushed with anger, but didn't look to Iris to be hurt in any way. But the hobbit beneath their feet was definitely hurt. Iris thought she recognized him as Ted Sandyman, the miller, but it was difficult to see his facial features clearly. He was nursing a bloody nose and sniffling in terror.

"Yep, broken nose," Iris thought. "Nothing worse. Good. Let 'em suffer a bit. Teach 'em all a lesson about fighting."

"Back away, please," Iris instructed Sam and Rose. They complied silently. Iris knelt down next to Ted to begin her ministrations, but he shrank away from her.

"Get her away from me!" he shrieked. "I don't want her doin' nothin' to me. She kilt Ted Wyncot and she'll kill me too! Don't you touch me, you South Farthing witch!"

The viciousness and unexpectedness of the accusation struck Iris like a knife to the gut, and sent a wave of shock through the crowd. The throng started whispering amongst itself. Iris could hear the questions and feel the looks.

"Try to remain calm," she silently instructed her near-panicked mind. "Don't let it get to you." She took a couple of deep breaths and turned back towards Ted.

"I will not touch you if you refuse treatment," she said.

"You bastard!" Sam growled, taking a step back towards the prostrate hobbit. Rose grabbed Sam's arm and ended up jostling his tender ribs. "Shiest, Rose! Damn that hurts!"

"Well, don't be stupid and I'll let ya go!" Rose snapped back. "Your Gaffer raised ya better than to take that fool's bait. Now, Sam, leave 'em be!"

Iris had risen to her feet. Ted did so as well, backing away from the doctor and moving through the crowd, cursing Sam, Rose, Iris and Frodo as he went.

"Are you going to refuse treatment too?" Iris bluntly asked Sam. "I can call the Apothecary or the Midwife if you prefer."

Rose was shocked. What in the world had gotten into the doctor? Sam was equally confused. Why hadn't she repudiated Ted Sandyman's accusation?

"Damn it, Iris," Sam panted, "of course I want you to treat me."

"Well, come on into the office, please, Mister Gamgee," Iris woodenly said as she turned her back to the couple and pushed her was through the crowd.

"You'll pay for this, Samwise Gamgee!" a muffled voice could be heard. It was Ted. "Watch yourself around that witch though. She's killed one young lad already."