Many thanks for your wonderful comments! I thought I'd finished this chapter, but you sparked some ideas I had to put in. For those of you worried about Frodo…blame past English classes and rest assured you'll know all eventually. *wicked grin*

Disclaimer: The Tolkien Estate owns the Shire and everything in it (sigh.) I've just dropped by for the Fair.

Brandy Hall, Buckland, June 30-July 1, 1382 SR

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Chapter 2:  Hiding Habits

In which Bilbo is surprised and discovers a search underway.

"When I find you, Baggins, you'd better not have your nose in a book!"

Bilbo stopped in mid-sentence, and looked up, startled. In the back of the cart, two of the boys from the ferry landing, Tolfred and Marroc, stopped pushing a crate and snickered. They had followed Bilbo and the others up to the Brandy Hall stableyard to help unload. Extra spending money was always useful at the Fair.

"Not you, Bilbo," said Saradoc, amused. "Young Frodo. I'm afraid he's in a little trouble today." He rapped on the cart floor. The two boys jumped and slid the box forward. Saradoc handed it to the very plump hobbit and waved him on his way.

"Have you tried the hay barn, Permilea?" he called to the tweenager standing hands on hips and glaring around the stableyard. He nodded toward the large building next to the pony paddock. The girl, a sturdy hobbit with long brown curls and a pug nose, assumed a no-nonsense expression and marched over to it. Her friend trailed along unenthusiastically behind her.

"Frodo? Frodo! You know what Master Rorimac said would happen if he caught you reading!" She yanked the door open and stuck her head inside. "Frodo? Are you in there?" A pair of irritated chickens flew out, squawking, and she jumped. Annoyed, Permilea slammed the door shut with a huff and shrugged her shoulders at her friend.

"He's not in there either. He's hiding really good this time," she said, reluctant admiration in her tone.

Hiding? What was this? Bilbo pricked up his ears.

 "We've checked everywhere and I'm bored," the other tweenager whined. "The library, the hayloft, the smithy, and the woodshed—all his usual hiding places. Let's stop."

"No, we haven't. There's the fairgrounds, and the orchards, and the pier, and the boathouses, and—"

Marroc elbowed Tolfred and muttered something to him behind his hand. Tolfred snorted a laugh, then the two boys caught Saradoc's eye and bent with great industry to lift a large box.

"Don't be daft. You know he's not there. And I'm not going halfway to Crickhollow to search the orchards." The other girl slouched against the paddock fence and pouted. "Milly, I'm tired of looking, and I'm hungry. He's not coming out, and I wouldn't either after what Old Rory said."

Permilea crossed her arms and glared at her friend. "Cousin Esme needs him, Pansy!"

"Oh, all right," Pansy said, rolling her eyes and sighing gustily at the unfairness of life in general, "let's go check the fairgrounds, if we must. At least something interesting is happening there."

Bilbo looked after the departing tweenagers, his brow furrowed. Then he saw the large red G on the lid of the box the two boys were lifting down.

"Careful, lads! Give that to me!" He handed the box to the last of Saradoc's helpers, who accepted it with a nod and a grunt. "To the lockroom, if you please, my good fellow. And don't trip!"

Bilbo dusted off his hands, then caught Saradoc's eye. "What was that about?" he gestured after the departing girls.

The cart was nearly empty. The boys jumped down and Saradoc tugged one of the last two crates forward. "A little mishap with the tie-downs on the food pavilion. Frodo is staying out of my father's way until he cools down. Smart lad."

Bilbo nodded, satisfied. "That's why he didn't meet me at the ferry. I wondered. Does the boy often need to avoid Rory?"

Marroc snickered again, then let his breath out in a pained whoosh when Saradoc banged the crate into his chest harder than strictly necessary.

"Every other week or so." Bilbo stiffened, and Saradoc motioned him to calm down. "No, no, Bilbo. You know Rory—flares up like tinder and lasts no longer. Frodo's prank today was just…bad timing."

Saradoc lifted the last crate into Tolfred's arms and nodded to the stablehand.  Bilbo swung his pack over his shoulder as the cart drew away.

"Come, Bilbo!" Saradoc gripped Bilbo's shoulder and steered him toward the Hall.  "Come greet Esme and my new young son.  He's a fine one. Every inch a Brandybuck!"

Still frowning, Bilbo followed Saradoc and the two tweenagers up the grassy path to the smial.

~TBC~