Chapter 8 Title: Lavender and Roses Chapter rating: PG

Frodo awoke with the late morning sunshine in his eyes. He had forgotten to pull the thick midnight blue curtains shut before retiring and now he was squinting into the shaft of light filtering into his bedroom.

"Botheration," he sourly thought, "Might as well get up."

The smial was quiet and still. The only sound came from bees buzzing in the flower gardens outside the open windows, the song of birds, and the faint far-off laughter of children playing in the meadows back behind Bag End Hill. Frodo got dressed and padded into the kitchen.

Rose had left him a light breakfast on a little plate covered with a gossamer cloth. Frodo peeked under to find a slice of cheese and a hard roll, along with an apple and some fresh raspberries in a small bowl. He left the raspberries, but took up the plate and headed outside into the garden.

Sam's ministrations to the famous Bag End Gardens had produced an exceptional showcase of common and exotic flowers this year. Hollyhocks of every hue reared their lovely stalks high above Frodo's head as he settled into the little stone bench set against the garden wall. He had to brush aside vigorous snapdragons and a riot of yellow, orange and salmon nasturtiums before he could sit down. Flowers of all shapes, sizes and colors waged their own silent war in competition for the attention of bees, butterflies, moths and small birds. A lark fluttered into the lilac bush and burst into a glorious territorial song.

Frodo balanced the little earthenware platter on his knees and munched his belated breakfast, drinking in the sunshine and smiling to himself. A tiny hummingbird zipped into view, momentarily hovered in front of Frodo, and then flashed away in a glint of metallic green and red. Frodo followed its movements through the flower garden and into the kitchen herbs. He lost it somewhere in the midst of the lavender and chives.

"Lavender," he mused, "Iris loves lavender. She always smells faintly of lavender."

The more Frodo thought about the events of the past 24 hours, the more upset he became. "Sam had no right to lecture me that way," he thought. "It's not as if he and Rose never made love before, er . well, on second thought, perhaps they never had before they were married. After all, Sam is quite a few years younger than I. But Sam did not even let me finish explaining before he interrupted."

He set the plate aside and munched on the apple, letting his gaze travel up into the late morning sky. Puffy clouds sailed lazily toward the West, powered by an invisible breeze. The Shire was beautiful, thanks to Sam's replanting and the precious gift of soil from Galadriel.

"I could stay out here forever," Frodo contentedly thought. His injuries and hardships during the Quest faded into the background of his thoughts - troubling thoughts which he found increasingly hard to push out of his mind. But Sam's lavish garden brought peace to Frodo, at least for the present.

"I need to talk to Iris," he sighed. "I know she was upset at her patient's death, but she should not be alone to have to go through dealing with it. And despite what Sam said, I am certain that our love-making did more good than harm."

Frodo reluctantly stood up and retrieved his plate, taking it into the kitchen. He put away the raspberries and washed up his breakfast plate. Bilbo had drilled a meticulous nature into his heir, and Frodo tried to keep a neat and always-presentable house no matter what time of day. Of course, having Sam and Rose move into Bag End had changed that somewhat, but he still tried to maintain a tidy home.

Frodo retrieved his coat and wetted down his handkerchief before heading out the door. Once outside he took a little detour through the gardens. Using one of Sam's pruning shears, he snipped a bunch of lavender and some of the late-blooming roses and wrapped them into a bouquet in the handkerchief. "She should like these," he thought as he started off at a brisk clip down Bag End Row and into Hobbiton.

He couldn't help himself. The glorious weather had put him into a tremendously good mood. Frodo whistled a jaunty little tune as he approached the market square, floral bouquet in hand. He was heading towards the Physician's Office when he noticed something was not quite right.

People in the market place were staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Small groups quickly formed and the gossip continued. A few guiltily looked away when he caught their eye. Some openly gawked at him holding the bouquet.

"What's going on?" Frodo thought. He felt as if he was the butt of some joke, only he was not aware of the joke.

"Good day, Mister Baggins," a hobbit at a fruit stand called out. Frodo smiled and called out his 'Good day to you, sir' as was polite, but he couldn't quite remember the hobbit's name. How did he know his name?

Frodo dismissed the market scene as he went inside the door to the Physician's Office. The little doorbells tinkled a cheery greeting as he pulled the door shut. No one was in the waiting area, so Frodo tiptoed into the hallway and peeked around the corner. The door to the combination examination and surgery room was closed, indicating that Iris was with a patient at the moment. Frodo was about to turn around and wait in the front room when he overheard a familiar voice coming from behind the surgery door.

"Ow! Don't you think that's a bit tight, Doc?" It was Sam's voice. He sounded like he was in some pain, but not dreadfully so.

Frodo's curiosity got the better of his judgment. He crept to the door and listened. He could hear Sam's heavy breathing. There was some shuffling sounds, then .

"Sam, if you don't keep still she'll have to do it again, and I'm late enough as it is."

That was Rose, and from the tone of her voice she sounded fairly put-out with her husband. Before Frodo could do anything the door suddenly opened. He practically fell into Rose's arms, scattering the flowers into the hallway.

"Mister Frodo!" a surprised Rose exclaimed. "Whatever are you doing here?"

The sight which greeted Frodo was one he had not expected. Sam, stripped of his shirt, was holding his arms straight out from his body and was having his ribs tightly bound with bandages. A rather large purple-blue bruise showed from under the wrappings. Sam looked rather startled to see Frodo standing in the doorway, looking in from behind Rose. Iris looked up from her work and frowned at Frodo.

"Rose, please shut the door," the doctor quietly said, and went back to tending her patient.

"Uh, hello Mister Frodo" was all Frodo heard from Sam before Rose exited and closed the door behind her. That left the two of them in the hallway. It was awkward, to say the least. Rose crossed her arms and cocked her head. She was waiting for an answer.

"Hello Rose," he began as he gathered up the scattered blooms.

"Right. Let's drop the formalities and get to business, shall we?" Rose snapped. "Why are you eaves-dropping in the doctor's office?"

"I am terribly embarrassed," Frodo stammered. "Please accept my apologies. I came over to see Iris ." he held up the flowers as evidence, ". and overheard Sam's voice. I am sorry about the eaves-dropping, Rose. I did not overhear anything, truly. But is he alright? The folk in the market place gave me the strangest looks as I came into town. Does Sam's injuries have anything to do with that? Did I say or do anything wrong?"

Rose couldn't help but feel her sour mood soften at his words. He sounded so innocent of any wrong-doing, and so concerned about Sam. Well, he might as well find out what happened from a friend rather than from a stranger. Rose decided to tell Frodo about the fight between Sam and Ted Sandyman. She walked him back into the front waiting room and proceeded to explain what had happened at the Green Dragon Inn and outside in the market square.

Frodo's visage darkened at the mention of Ted Sandyman's name. He shook his head in frustration when Rose narrated how Sandyman had accused the doctor of killing the Wyncot lad, and had refused treatment for his broken nose, calling Iris a witch. All this in front of the entire market place population. This rumor would be difficult, if not impossible, to contain.

"But the strangest thing is how Iris is acting," Rose concluded in a whisper. "She's not herself, if I do say so. This whole business with the Wyncot lad dying has affected her terribly. She won't talk unless spoken to, and . well . it's not for me to say, but I think she's lost confidence in herself. And what good's a doctor who doesn't believe in her abilities?"

Rose placed her hand on Frodo's shoulder. "I'm awfully glad you're here for her. Sam's just about done in there, so we'll be leaving. I do hope you can talk some sense into Miss Proudfoot's head, and convince her that she's needed here. I sure don't want to see her leave because of some fool rumors that nasty Sandyman's spreading."

They both stood up as they heard the sound of footfalls coming up the hallway. Sam appeared, fully clothed and looking none the worse for wear, other than favoring his left side slightly. Iris was nowhere to be seen.

"Hello, Frodo," Sam sheepishly smiled. He figured Rose would have told his friend everything by now.

"Hello yourself, Sam," Frodo replied. "Acting more like a Brandybuck than a Gamgee, I hear. I'm going to have to start calling you Captain Meriodoc if you keep this sort of behavior up. I cannot fathom how you managed to go to Mordor and back without any serious injuries, yet you let Ted Sandyman whip the tar out of you once you get back to the Shire!" Frodo couldn't help himself and he broke into a grin. He just had to rub it in.

"Well, now, I gave better than I took, if you know what I mean," Sam laughed, but then sobered up upon seeing Rose's frown. "Ah, now lass . " he spoke to her, "we're just talking here. Pay us no nevermind."

"You two are impossible," Rose said.

"At least one of us is," Frodo answered, "and you married him." He suddenly became serious. "Sam, I am disappointed that you got into a fight over harsh words said by Sandyman. You should not let him goad you that way, you know. Now he is going to use this against us; against Iris particularly. You know Ted will do just about anything to hurt me, and that includes ruining the reputation of my friends."

"That's fine for you to say, sir," Sam scowled, "but it weren't your wife's honor he was impugning. And I'll not stand for anyone to say a word again' my Rose. Not him. Not even you, although I know you wouldn't even think such a dishonorable thing."

Frodo smiled. "When you put it that way, I can see why you hit him in the nose. But that does not change the fact that he now has a weapon to use against us - the weapon of rumor and innuendo concerning Iris. He will run her out of town if he can. We must do everything in our power to stop that, but at this moment I do not see how."

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Rose said. "Right now we need to get home, and you need to find Iris."

"Agreed," Frodo nodded. "I do not know when I shall return to Bag End. But Sam - please do not haul off and hit anyone else for awhile. I need you to think with your head and not with your temper. Promise?"

"I promise," Sam said as he and Rose headed out the door. With its closing, Frodo was again alone in the waiting room. Where was Iris?