Author Notes: My reviewers: I love you forever! *showers much praise, flowers, confetti, and kisses upon you* I will review your work (as soon as I can find the time) I promise you. Talking Hawk – Sam is four years old, so this story won't be a slash (I do intend to write slash in the future, though, so be forewarned.) Trilliah – you're the greatest! you're my friend forever! and, no, that button is not for decoration. shirebound – I'm getting to that part as fast as I can, I assure you. But not in this chapter. Paper Crane – can't wait for more? Here's more! Thank you! BelleMonte – you are also my friend forever! I'm updating for you, dahling (j/k!) . Thanks all of you for being so nice about this! I really appreciate it! As for the story – the age difference between Sam and Frodo is correctly recorded, but I don't think the age differences between himself and his siblings are. So if you want to verify it, it's not going to check out. Onward and upward!
By the time the sun rose the next morning, Frodo's mood had swung to the opposite pole. He got up, ate a quick breakfast, and left without saying good morning. His blue eyes were stormy-dark, and Bilbo looked after him worriedly. So moody these days though it's hardly to be wondered at. I hope he's feeling alright.
Frodo was decidedly not feeling alright. A more miserable hobbit cannot be imagined. As soon as he got beyond Bag End, he broke into a run. He ran and ran, not caring where he went. He ran until the ache in his heart eased away, until his grief was nothing compared with the fire in his chest as he struggled for air. He ran until he was too tired to run any further. When he stopped – in a wheatfield – he raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, and was surprised to find his face wet with tears. He hadn't realized he was crying as he ran. He dried his tears on the back of his hand, and finding a small stream, washed his face.
He was suddenly very thirsty, and he drank for some minutes. When he finished, he felt refreshed, strong. He looked about for a moment before he recognized the place he was in. This was Farmer Cotton's land. Which puts me out in Bywater, he thought. That's a fair distance. He turned and headed back towards Hobbiton, 4 miles away. As he was young and strong, he got there in a little under two hours.
Frodo came home, and, finding Bilbo gone – on a visit to another cousin– scrawled a quick note explaining that he was sorry he had rushed out that morning, and he might go out again this afternoon and left it on Bilbo's 'reading table' in the living room. He put his pack in his bedroom, and tried to interest himself in a book of Elvish history, but the history of that race is very long, very complicated, and rather melancholy – consequently extremely dull for a 16 year old who already had far too much to be melancholy about.
Frodo got up and walked outside. He contemplated going to the meadow again, but instead found himself walking over to the flower garden, where Hamfast was working on the herbaceous border.
« Hello, there, young man » the gardener said, looking up from his work.
« Hello, Master Hamfast » answered Frodo. « What's that you're doing ? »
« Just getting the last o' these seedlings planted, sir. It's all I have left, for today. »
« Oh, really ? » said Frodo, surprised, for normally he worked from sunrise to sundown.
« Yes, really, Master Frodo » Hamfast answered with a grin. « Today's my afternoon off. »
« Oh, I see » said Frodo, looking rather disappointed. He was feeling lonely and he wanted somebody to talk to.« Well, what are you going to do ? For your afternoon off, that is ? »
« Well, sir, I was planning to go on a walk with t' missus, and t' children. We might make a picnic out of it » said the gardener, whose shrewd gaze could see the loneliness in those great blue eyes.
« A – a picnic ? » said Frodo, remembering picnics he had taken with his parents.
« Yes, sir. 'Tis a fine day » he said, gesturing expansively with a wave of his hand.
« Yes. Yes, it is, » answered Frodo, feeling lonelier than ever. Hamfast looked at him with something between paternal affection and sorrow. Poor lad. Losing his parents like that. He's so lonesome. I wonder, now… He voiced his thoughts.
« I wonder, lad, if you'd be free to join us ? It'd just be for the afternoon, and the missus has been wanting to meet you. The children won't be too much trouble, I promise you, and… » Frodo's eyes had brightened, and a hopeful smile had settled on his mouth.
« Really ? I mean, yes ! Yes, I'd love to ! » he said eagerly.
« Eh, now, that's grand » said the gardener, smiling broadly. « I'll go tell Bell to pack a bit more food. » And with a final pat to the ground where he had been planting, he straightened up and turned homewards. « Tha's welcome to come with, young master » he said to Frodo, who had hung back, uncertainly. And so side by side, they walked down the hill and into the small, but nicely kept smial that the eight Gamgees called home.
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Inside was very clean, Frodo noticed. It smelled wonderful, like warm bread, and Frodo suddenly felt very hungry.
« Bell, my lass ! » called Hamfast.
« In t' kitchen ! » came the reply, in a voice that reminded Frodo sharply of another's.
« Bell, my lass, I've brought thee company ! » he said, leading Frodo down a short hallway, and into the room from whence the voice had come. Frodo looked around. The room was small –as were all the rooms in the house – but beautifully whitewashed. Bright copper pans hung from hooks on the wall , there were brilliant blue irises in a vase on the table, and the room was filled with sunlight.
At the counter, packing a picnic basket, stood a woman about 50 years in age. Her curly hair was long and dark, and held back neatly with a kerchief. She wore a simple blue cotton dress, and there was an apron tied 'round her waist. Upon their entering, she turned and smiled. Her dark eyes were kind and merry.
« So this is the company you've brought me ? » she questioned, looking at Frodo.
« Yes, Bell. This is t' young master. »
« I'm pleased to meet thee, young master » she said with a glint of mischief in her eyes. Frodo felt suddenly very safe, very warm, and very glad to be there. He smiled at her.
« Just Frodo, Mistress Bell. Just Frodo. »
She smiled back. « Alright then, lad. Just Frodo. » She turned to her husband, who was smiling at both of them. « Ham, gather up t' children, will you ? No good me packing a picnic if there's no one to eat it. »
He nodded. « Surely, Bell. But what about young Samwise ? » he asked. Her eyes went soft and shining.
« Oh, we'll find him on the way, I'm thinking » she said. He nodded again, and went off to collect his various offspring.
« Is there anything I can do to help, Mistress ? » Frodo asked.
« Aye, » she nodded. « That there is. Tha can help me with the last o' the packing up, here. Sooner finished, sooner we can go. » Frodo noticed in her the same strange accent that he had heard in Hamfast's speech. His curiosity piqued, and he asked her about it.
« I know for certain it's not a Buckland. It does sound a little like a Tuckborough, though. I was wondering where your people come from ? » he said, looking at her questioningly.
« Well, if you grew up in Buckland, it's small wonder tha doesn't know. 'Tis a West Farthing accent. Us Gamgees come from t' other side of the Shire, completely ! » she laughed, and Frodo laughed with her, though he didn't know why. The warm, safe feeling washed over him again.
« Yes, you do » he agreed. « Well, now that the picnic's packed… »
« We'll be settin' out » she finished for him. She placed the picnic basket in a large backpack, which she slung over her shoulder. « Are we ready ? »
« Yes, Mistress, all ready. » Frodo grinned. She smiled back.
« Well, then, Frodo-lad, what're we waitin' for ? Let's go ! » And they marched out into the sunshine.
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Out on the grass in front of the smial was Hamfast, surrounded by his children. Frodo counted five, of varying ages, but he didn't see his Elf-child. He felt somehow disappointed at least until Marigold, the littlest Gamgee, came running over and attached herself to his leg. She was a tiny child of two, with wild dark curls and huge dark eyes. She stared adoringly up at Frodo, who delightedly bent down and scooped her up.
« Hello, there. Who're you ? » he asked playfully.
« That's Marigold, » answered her older sister, May. « She's still too little to talk much. Look's like she's taken quite a shine to you » she said with a smile. The little one had leaned forward until her face was touching Frodo's. She then put her little hands on either side of his head and kissed his forehead soundly. Frodo laughed.
« Well, thank you ! I like you, too. »
Marigold smiled at him, and then wriggled to be put down. She did, however, stay close by him as they walked. The Gamgees had, in the manner of large families, simply adopted Frodo as one of the group, and he felt happier than he had felt for a long time. There, walking among them, joking with the older boys and watching out for Marigold, he could almost imagine that this was his family. Almost. Not quite. But it was a start.
« Certainly is a forward little thing » Frodo remarked about Marigold, who had taken his hand in hers and skipped along beside him.
« Yes, » laughed Halfred. « She's Sam's opposite. It's why they're so close. »
« Sam ? » questioned Frodo. « Why ? What's he like ? » All seven Gamgees paused a moment and smiled.
« Sam is … himself » answered Daisy, and they all nodded. Frodo wondered what that meant, but they seemed to think it a satisfactory answer, so he asked no more except, « Where is he ? »
« Oh, he's about » they all said at once, and laughed at the coincidence.
« Sam goes off on his own a lot, » said Hamfast for Frodo's benefit. « We'll most like meet up with him in a short while. He knows where we're goin'. » Frodo nodded. I wonder where it is he goes ? Oh , I do hope we'll see him. I want to know if he's my Elf.
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A short while later, they came to their chosen destination – another meadow, ringed with trees and full of flowers. This one had a little creek running through it, and the children promptly set about getting themselves wet. The day was hot, the water was cool, and it felt good just to run around playing with other children again. Having grown up in Buckland, he was used to having numerous cousins to play with at any time. When he moved to Bag End a month ago, he did not realize it, but his loneliness underscored his grief. Well, I'm not lonely now, he thought, grinning. What delightful people. Just then came a call from Hamfast.
« Samwise ! » he cried joyfully. « Come here, lad ! »
Little Sam did not see Frodo amongst them, and ran over to his father, who picked him up and tossed him in the air. Laughing and screaming in safe terror, he came down again, caught in his father's strong arms. « Da ! Tha mustn't frighten me so! » he said, with all the sternness his four-year-old countenance could manage. Hamfast smiled at his son, and kissed his golden hair.
« And have ye no word for your mother, then ? » asked Bell with a smile. Sam was handed over into her waiting arms. « And where hasta been, all this long day ? » she asked.
« Oh, about » he answered, and they all laughed. « Lookit, Mum, I found summat for thee » he said, pulling from his pocket a bright blue feather.
« Oh, Sam ! 'Tis such a pretty thing ! » she exclaimed. He smiled. « Isn't it lovely ? » she asked the others, who all expressed their agreement. Sam shifted, and Bell put him down, but not before kissing him. He giggled, and Frodo had high hopes of introducing himself just then, but the boy never even saw him. His brothers and sisters gathered 'round him and picked him up, kissing him and chattering away while he listened, wide-eyed and unusually attentive for such a young child. At least, until May got it into her head to start tickling him. He shrieked with laughter as he writhed to get away.
« Don't May, don't ! Don't tickle ! » he cried, when he could get his breath. « Hamson, make her stop ! » he implored his eldest brother.
« Alright, May, that's enough » said his brother, taking the boy from his sister's arms. Sam gasped for air, his face flushed. He stood up, straightened his tunic, and frowned at his sister for a moment with the same stern look there had been before – but he spoiled the effect by throwing his arms around her neck and kissing her. May looked very pleased.
In the lull of the next few moments, Frodo again opened his mouth to introduce himself, but little Marigold had left off her attentions and was standing next to Sam, looking at him reverently. Sam smiled brightly. « Come on, Mari-dear ! » he said. « I've things to show thee. » And taking her small hand in his own equally small one, they took a sandwich each from the picnic basket, kissed their parents, and walked off into the woods. Their little forms were soon lost to sight among the trees.
« And who was that ? » Frodo asked innocently, though he well knew.
« That's our Samwise » said his parents with a proud smile in the direction he had gone.
« Our little brother » said the children, with the same proud smile.
« Well, I should have liked to meet him – as it was, we didn't even get introduced ! » he teased. They laughed.
« You'll meet him one of these days, Frodo, no doubt » said Bell. « He's told me about you. »
« Told you ? » asked Frodo, surprised.
« Yes, he's seen thee several times when he goes out wandering. Just hasn't worked up the nerve to go introduce himself » said Hamfast.
« Terrible shy with strangers, is our Sam » said Halfred, by way of explanation.
« He'll come to thee when he's ready » said Bell. Frodo nodded, more intrigued than ever by his small Elf. I hope he's ready soon, he thought, but he soon forgot as the others resumed the games they had been playing. Everything was very bright –the sunlight, the water, the laughter of his newfound friends – and served to dispel the darkness that had settled over Frodo's heart. He was pretending very hard to himself that this was his family. By the end of the afternoon, he very nearly believed it.
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A/N: Review, review, review! I don't have much else to say on the matter. J