The Monster of Bywater
Chapter Five - Down From the Door Where It Began
By Talking Hawk
"Do you suppose I'll see him again?" Frodo queried as he was pushed progressively out the front door. Bilbo held the boy's shoulder blades, and nodded his head heartily.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you will." Bilbo had been so enthused by the prospect of Frodo finding another lad (approximately his age), he had become convinced that the two could become friends if his nephew put in the effort. Frodo did not exactly share in the other's enthusiasm, having been mercilessly torn from his breakfast to be shoved out the door.
"Oh yes, and here's the water bucket!" Bilbo exclaimed, running to the closet in the hall, and coming back quickly with the basin in hand. Frodo now stood on the doorstep, and blinked as the wooden object was thrust into his arms. The elder hobbit grinned. "Have a nice day!" Before the irritated Frodo could reply to this, the green door was slammed shut.
The lad growled to himself, and begrudgingly turned from the door to venture down the walkway. "Kick me out of the house, why don't you. . ." he muttered aloud, taking a left turn at the road to find a place where he could have some time to himself.
* * *
"I'm going out now!" rung a boyish voice. The owner of it had already placed his hand upon the doorknob, a determined look in his eyes. On the other side of the room sat two older hobbits at the dining table, arguing over which famous hobbit was the first to invent mushroom soup - or if it had even been a hobbit at all!
"I say it was a Dwarf," Halfred stated quite plainly. "Hobbits would sooner eat a mushroom whole than even stop to think about what kind of soups you could make out of it." Hamson, his debate opponent, held up a hand for silence. Looking past Halfred, the eldest of the Gamgee boys looked with great concern upon his youngest brother.
"Sam," he said, ". . .*what* are you doing?
Sam blinked back at him, his butterfly net snugly leaning against his shoulder. Wasn't it obvious?
"I'm going to go catch meself a monster."
Halfred nearly choked on his oatmeal, and leaned his face into it as to not show how hard he wished to laugh. Hamson shot a glare at him and gave him a sharp kick in the leg.
"Why are you going to go and do that?" Hamson inquired of Sam.
Sam's chest puffed up proudly. "So then no one can call me a liar! . . . I'll be back in time for supper." And with that, the monster-catcher departed.
Halfred stifled a snicker with his hand, but Hamson's eyes remained glued to the closed door. "Do you think. . ." Hamson mused, worry shining in his eyes, "we should follow him? What if there *is*. . .something. . .?" The elder turned his eyes to his brother, hoping to find a hint of empathy in his face.
There was only skepticism. Halfred sat up straight, rolling his shoulders back. "Oh, c'mon, Ham. That monster is *just* as non-existant as. . .well. . .uh. . ."
A figure shot up between the two chairs. A girl smiled cheekily. "Your brain?" Halfred gave her a sour glare, and Hamson could not help but laugh.
"G'mornin', Daisy," Hamson greeted his sister politely, as his time of formal occasions with the opposite gender was drawing near, and his mother insisted that he practiced being. . .uh. . .civil? Was that the right word?
"Mornin'." A mischievous glint in her eyes, Daisy draped one arm around each other her brothers' shoulders. She smiled. "To think. . .for four whole years, it was just the three of us. Both of you and me. . ." She then snapped her head to the side to stare fixedly at Halfred. "Why was it again that I haven't killed you yet?" Narrowing his eyes, Halfred shook off his sister's arm. Then a smirk crossed his lips.
"Maybe it's 'cause you *can't*. . ." he poked. Daisy set her hands on her hips, amused by this new challenge.
"Oh? If so, I'm sure Father and Ham would be more than willing to help me. . ."
Halfred barked out a laugh, and fed himself another spoonful of oatmeal. "Heh, *right*. . . Anyway, I'm their favorite."
No longer able to contain themselves, all three of them burst out laughing. Halfred was well aware of his ability to rub people the wrong way, but his siblings and parents knew that deep down, he really did care about others and their troubles. He simply covered his worry with humor.
Daisy chuckled, and shook her head so that her blondish curls gleamed in the sunlight filtering in through the window. She disappeared into another part of the smial, going back to work on whatever new project she had made for herself.
"Honestly, Hal," Hamson breathed, clapping a hand onto his brother's shoulder as he finished recovering from his fit, ". . .I think we'll all be very grateful when you find yourself a lady-hobbit." He smiled, and Halfred returned the gesture. ". . .Poor, unsuspecting lass. She doesn't know what she's in for!"
"Why, you. . ." Halfred sneered, unsuccessfully trying to force back the cackle that threatened to escape him. His eyes dancing with mirth, he sounded a battle cry and tackled his brother out of the chair he was sitting in. They proceeded to roll about as though engrossed in some sort of warfare, but their laughter betrayed the harsh appearance of it.
Chapter Five - Down From the Door Where It Began
By Talking Hawk
"Do you suppose I'll see him again?" Frodo queried as he was pushed progressively out the front door. Bilbo held the boy's shoulder blades, and nodded his head heartily.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you will." Bilbo had been so enthused by the prospect of Frodo finding another lad (approximately his age), he had become convinced that the two could become friends if his nephew put in the effort. Frodo did not exactly share in the other's enthusiasm, having been mercilessly torn from his breakfast to be shoved out the door.
"Oh yes, and here's the water bucket!" Bilbo exclaimed, running to the closet in the hall, and coming back quickly with the basin in hand. Frodo now stood on the doorstep, and blinked as the wooden object was thrust into his arms. The elder hobbit grinned. "Have a nice day!" Before the irritated Frodo could reply to this, the green door was slammed shut.
The lad growled to himself, and begrudgingly turned from the door to venture down the walkway. "Kick me out of the house, why don't you. . ." he muttered aloud, taking a left turn at the road to find a place where he could have some time to himself.
* * *
"I'm going out now!" rung a boyish voice. The owner of it had already placed his hand upon the doorknob, a determined look in his eyes. On the other side of the room sat two older hobbits at the dining table, arguing over which famous hobbit was the first to invent mushroom soup - or if it had even been a hobbit at all!
"I say it was a Dwarf," Halfred stated quite plainly. "Hobbits would sooner eat a mushroom whole than even stop to think about what kind of soups you could make out of it." Hamson, his debate opponent, held up a hand for silence. Looking past Halfred, the eldest of the Gamgee boys looked with great concern upon his youngest brother.
"Sam," he said, ". . .*what* are you doing?
Sam blinked back at him, his butterfly net snugly leaning against his shoulder. Wasn't it obvious?
"I'm going to go catch meself a monster."
Halfred nearly choked on his oatmeal, and leaned his face into it as to not show how hard he wished to laugh. Hamson shot a glare at him and gave him a sharp kick in the leg.
"Why are you going to go and do that?" Hamson inquired of Sam.
Sam's chest puffed up proudly. "So then no one can call me a liar! . . . I'll be back in time for supper." And with that, the monster-catcher departed.
Halfred stifled a snicker with his hand, but Hamson's eyes remained glued to the closed door. "Do you think. . ." Hamson mused, worry shining in his eyes, "we should follow him? What if there *is*. . .something. . .?" The elder turned his eyes to his brother, hoping to find a hint of empathy in his face.
There was only skepticism. Halfred sat up straight, rolling his shoulders back. "Oh, c'mon, Ham. That monster is *just* as non-existant as. . .well. . .uh. . ."
A figure shot up between the two chairs. A girl smiled cheekily. "Your brain?" Halfred gave her a sour glare, and Hamson could not help but laugh.
"G'mornin', Daisy," Hamson greeted his sister politely, as his time of formal occasions with the opposite gender was drawing near, and his mother insisted that he practiced being. . .uh. . .civil? Was that the right word?
"Mornin'." A mischievous glint in her eyes, Daisy draped one arm around each other her brothers' shoulders. She smiled. "To think. . .for four whole years, it was just the three of us. Both of you and me. . ." She then snapped her head to the side to stare fixedly at Halfred. "Why was it again that I haven't killed you yet?" Narrowing his eyes, Halfred shook off his sister's arm. Then a smirk crossed his lips.
"Maybe it's 'cause you *can't*. . ." he poked. Daisy set her hands on her hips, amused by this new challenge.
"Oh? If so, I'm sure Father and Ham would be more than willing to help me. . ."
Halfred barked out a laugh, and fed himself another spoonful of oatmeal. "Heh, *right*. . . Anyway, I'm their favorite."
No longer able to contain themselves, all three of them burst out laughing. Halfred was well aware of his ability to rub people the wrong way, but his siblings and parents knew that deep down, he really did care about others and their troubles. He simply covered his worry with humor.
Daisy chuckled, and shook her head so that her blondish curls gleamed in the sunlight filtering in through the window. She disappeared into another part of the smial, going back to work on whatever new project she had made for herself.
"Honestly, Hal," Hamson breathed, clapping a hand onto his brother's shoulder as he finished recovering from his fit, ". . .I think we'll all be very grateful when you find yourself a lady-hobbit." He smiled, and Halfred returned the gesture. ". . .Poor, unsuspecting lass. She doesn't know what she's in for!"
"Why, you. . ." Halfred sneered, unsuccessfully trying to force back the cackle that threatened to escape him. His eyes dancing with mirth, he sounded a battle cry and tackled his brother out of the chair he was sitting in. They proceeded to roll about as though engrossed in some sort of warfare, but their laughter betrayed the harsh appearance of it.