What Frodo Did 14
It was Bell Gamgee who was the first to spot the predicament of the kitten. Merry was leaning on his elbows half over the table and watching closely as the small creature lapped up cream and custard, while its legs had quite vanished into the sponge and jelly beneath.
"Oh, Master Brandybuck!" exclaimed Bell. "What a thing to do."
Esmerelda turned her attention back to her son. "Oh dear."
Bell hauled the kitten out of the trifle. It hung rather limply in her hands, custard dripping off the fur on its belly.
"Frodo, my lad," said Bilbo. "It looks as though you are about to learn your first lesson in responsible pet ownership. That kitten needs a bath."
"But Merry did it," protested Frodo, not quite sure whether to grin or look annoyed.
"But it is your cat."
Frodo pouted a little but then considered giving the kitten a bath might be rather fun. "Can Merry and Sam help?"
"I'll fetch a bowl of water and some towels," volunteered Sam and ran off into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a shallow bowl of water and some cloths under his arm. Bell deposited the kitten on Frodo's placemat and went indoors to put another kettle on to brew. The rest of the adults went away with the gaffer to see if there was any fruit left in the orchard to take the place of the ruined dessert for filling up corners.
Frodo picked up the kitten and looked at it. It looked back, then started to clean its whiskers with the use of a long, pink tongue and a little orange forepaw. "Thank you Sam, he is wonderful."
Merry was trying to float the new toy boat Frodo had got him for his birthday present, in the bowl of water.
"Save that for your bath tub," Frodo told him and lifted the kitten into the bowl. The kitten paused for a second, then realised that there was nothing to eat in the bowl, and using Frodo's hands as a springboard propelled itself upwards. There was a yelp of pain from Sam, who found himself in the line of fire and then the sound of breaking crockery as the kitten landed on a stack of bowls, which were to have been used for serving the trifle.
Merry clapped his hands together, delighted at the performance.
Sam retrieved the kitten. They tried again.
Bilbo came rushing out to see who was murdering whom. Sam went into the kitchen to get a clean cloth to bind up his lacerated forearm.
It took the combined efforts of Sam, Frodo and Bilbo's oven gloves to hold the kitten in the water long enough to have its legs and belly cleaned. The kitten was not impressed. It fought, seeming to grow telescopic legs; it scratched, and bit with needle sharp little teeth. At last it was reasonably clean and wrapped in a towel, and the two elder boys were bleeding from a profusion of cuts and scratches while Merry seemed to have escaped unscathed.
"There you go Master Frodo." Sam set the clean bundle in Frodo's lap - where it was promptly sick.
In the evening all the guests returned to their own homes except Esmerelda and Merry, both of whom would be staying for a few days, and Samwise Gamgee, who was staying over-night with Frodo and Merry in what he considered to be the greatest treat of his whole life.
Sam was now sitting on the carpet playing with the black and orange kitten, who had proved to be every bit as bold of nature as of colouring and was even now in total command of the hearthrug and repelling all boarders.
Sam had a string of woolly pom-pom balls with which he had been amusing the kitten, but he was now as fair tied up as the kitten!
"What are you going to call him?" Merry wanted to know.
"Something elvish," replied his cousin. "Something heroic out of the old tales."
The kitten spat furiously and arched its back as a yellow fluffy pom-pom became detached from the others and rolled past its nose. It pounded savagely at it and scrabbled at the wool with its back legs until the ball exploded into pieces.
"You should call him Smaug," Sam pronounced.
Bilbo got out of his chair and came to lean over Frodo. He ruffled the boy's dark curls affectionately. "Time you and your dragon were in bed. I've put all you boys in the one guest room. I know there is no point in even trying to separate you. Just, no candles under the covers now, mind!"
Frodo twined his arms round his cousin's neck as Bilbo picked him up to carry into the bedroom. "Thank you Uncle Bilbo," he murmured into the older hobbit's ear and kissed the weathered cheek.
Sam and Merry followed at his heels and Smaug at theirs.
Bilbo returned a while later and stirred up the fire, sitting comfortably beside Esmerelda and joining her in drinking tea. "I hope your Merry is not too sensitive. I'll wager Frodo will be telling them spine-chilling tales all night. I never knew a lad with such an imagination."
Esmerelda smiled. "You are doing a good thing, Bilbo, bringing him here to live with you. I don't say that I won't miss him around the Hall, but he is a lad who needs a lot of attention. He is rather unique and I think you will bring out the best in him, and maybe understand him more than perhaps some of his other cousins could. He will do well."
The sudden sound of someone knocking loudly on Bilbo's beautiful green front door with an umbrella handle caused both hobbits to jump. "Sticklebacks!" swore Bilbo.
He knew who it was already, but there was no putting it off. "I've come for my birthday present," announced Lobelia Sackville-Baggins superciliously the moment the door was open, "and to give you a piece of my mind about that Brandybuck whelp. Bilbo Baggins, taking in a cripple to live with you . . ."
Bilbo slammed the door in Lobelia's face and walked away. He was halfway back to his cup of tea when there was a blood-curdling scream from the guest room. Bilbo shot a worried glance towards the room, then sighed and grinned to himself as he recognised the voice. No doubt Frodo had been telling Merry about the trolls who made hobbits into piecrusts. "Bilbo Baggins," he told himself. "I think you are in for a lot of adventures right here at home."
*****
Everyone slept in late the next morning. The Gaffer was the first sign of life around Bag End as he made his way to the vegetable plots at the end of the garden. Bilbo heard his gardener and got up himself to get the kettle on and fill his largest frying pans with sausages, tomatoes and mushrooms. Esmerelda joined him soon afterwards looking a little guilty at having slept in for so long. She smiled at Bilbo as he poured her a cup of tea and motioned her to be seated while he fussed over breakfast.
Sam was the first of the boys to appear on the scene. He was looking a little shy and lost in his hand-me-down nightshirt which reached down to his ankles.
"Come on in my lad. No need for formalities here, not today." Bilbo told him. "You are a guest now. Come and get some breakfast."
Sam went even redder. "Master Frodo is still asleep but Master Merry is awake."
"I'll get him," sighed Esmerelda, smiling fondly. "That one can smell bacon crisping from the other side of the Farthings."
Esmerelda stuck her head round the bedroom door and found Merry sitting on the floor with Smaug. The imp looked at his mother full of wide-eyed innocence, having not quite forgotten the ear-bending he had received from her on the twin subjects of kittens and trifles and their excessive proximity to one another. "Breakfast?"
"Yes, but you be sure to take the kitten into the kitchen with you, but keep it away from any food! Bilbo has bacon cooking." Merry nodded seriously and then toddled past his mother as fast as his little legs would carry him, down to the kitchen with Smaug on his heels. Of the two, Esmerelda did not know which was the less graceful. Merry ran like a windmill, his nightshirt for a sail, and Smaug was suffering from the blight of all kittens in that his back legs ran faster than his front legs. She restrained an urge to chuckle at the pair and after a few moments she breathed a quick sigh of relief when both young things reached the kitchen without damage.
"Hello," said a sleepy voice from the bed. Frodo was rubbing his eyes and blinking. Esmerelda gave a start and came out of her reverie.
"Good morning." Esmerelda came to sit on the edge of the bed and helped Frodo to sit up. "How are you this morning?"
"Fine," Frodo replied.
Esmerelda looked at the fragile looking little boy in the big bed. She reached out and brushed the tangle of dark curls from his beautiful blue eyes. Pale though he still was he was the most beautiful child Esmerelda had ever seen. It gave her a pang now to look at him. He reminded her so much of his mother.
"Do you want me to help you get ready? I think nightshirts are the code of dress for this morning."
Frodo grinned. "That's tradition for the morning after our birthdays. But, if you don't mind."
"You would rather have Bilbo. I'll go see if he will trust me to cook breakfast."
Frodo sat up in bed looking round his room at all the new things Bilbo had given him for his birthday. Bilbo was always so generous. Yesterday had been a bit over whelming for him: the party; the kitten; moving his foot. He looked down the bed at the outline of his legs beneath the bedcovers and carefully moved his left foot, making the covers bunch and stretch. So, he could still do it. He furrowed his brow and tried to move the whole leg.
Having an idea he tossed aside the bed covers and used his hands to pull his legs over to the side of the bed. He braced one hand on the headboard, then used the other hand and gravity to drop his legs over the side of the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. He took a deep breath.
"Frodo! No!" Bilbo caught Frodo round the waist just as the lad started to tip over the side of the bed, his legs buckling. Unbalanced, both cousins fell to the carpeted floor, Bilbo managing to brace Frodo. Stunned for a moment they sat like that, Frodo mostly on Bilbo's lap.
"Whatever were you thinking of?" asked Bilbo shakily.
"I just wanted to see. I wanted to see if I could." Frodo was trembling badly and Bilbo rubbed his back and shoulders soothingly.
"Shush," Bilbo noticed the enormous blue eyes pooling up with tears. "You can't rush this, my lad. I know you are impatient, but you have to take it slowly or you could risk hurting yourself again."
Frodo leant his head on his cousin's shoulder. "I want to be able to walk again," he whispered.
"And you will. You will my boy." Bilbo hugged Frodo fiercely to him, kissing the dark head. "But for now, lets just get you cleaned up and get some breakfast inside of you. The more you eat the stronger you will get."
Frodo raised his head. "I do love you Bilbo. Thank you for everything, for taking me in, and for, well, just for everything."
"You are all the world to me, my boy," Bilbo assured him, stroking the soft cheek. "Now, we'd better get to the kitchen, or Merry will have eaten all the mushrooms."
*****
The day at Bag End was peacefully spent - for the most part. Merry and Smaug proved a well matched pair, alternating their time between sleeping flat out, eating, playing, and performing minor acts of destruction. Sam was content to sit by Frodo's side on the couch.
Frodo's present to Merry, of a toy boat, had proved a great success at bath time. Merry was too eager to try out his new toy to protest needing to have a bath. "But I haven't done anything to get dirty yet!" was his usual battle cry. But this morning it was silenced and he propelled the beautifully detailed model around his bathtub hardly noticing his mother and the washcloth.
Frodo's present to Sam had been a beautiful picture book, which had come all the way from Rivendell. Sam was entranced by the pictures and turned the pages begging Frodo to tell him stories about the animals, birds, elves, and great trees of the forests.
"Is it true that some trees can talk?"
And Frodo had spun a tail about a little hobbit lad who befriended a talking tree and went to live in the forest with the animals until Sam fell asleep cuddled up next to the older boy under a blanket.
Frodo too soon fell asleep and dreamt that he was walking through a forest of enormous trees, with Sam at his side. In the dream there were little lights in the trees and tall graceful forms moving up staircases which wound around the trunks. There was singing too - a sort of ethereal singing which tore at him and made him want to cry with its beauty and its sadness, and Bilbo watched over him as he dreamed, wondering at the tears trickling from the young hobbit's eyes.
It was Bell Gamgee who was the first to spot the predicament of the kitten. Merry was leaning on his elbows half over the table and watching closely as the small creature lapped up cream and custard, while its legs had quite vanished into the sponge and jelly beneath.
"Oh, Master Brandybuck!" exclaimed Bell. "What a thing to do."
Esmerelda turned her attention back to her son. "Oh dear."
Bell hauled the kitten out of the trifle. It hung rather limply in her hands, custard dripping off the fur on its belly.
"Frodo, my lad," said Bilbo. "It looks as though you are about to learn your first lesson in responsible pet ownership. That kitten needs a bath."
"But Merry did it," protested Frodo, not quite sure whether to grin or look annoyed.
"But it is your cat."
Frodo pouted a little but then considered giving the kitten a bath might be rather fun. "Can Merry and Sam help?"
"I'll fetch a bowl of water and some towels," volunteered Sam and ran off into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a shallow bowl of water and some cloths under his arm. Bell deposited the kitten on Frodo's placemat and went indoors to put another kettle on to brew. The rest of the adults went away with the gaffer to see if there was any fruit left in the orchard to take the place of the ruined dessert for filling up corners.
Frodo picked up the kitten and looked at it. It looked back, then started to clean its whiskers with the use of a long, pink tongue and a little orange forepaw. "Thank you Sam, he is wonderful."
Merry was trying to float the new toy boat Frodo had got him for his birthday present, in the bowl of water.
"Save that for your bath tub," Frodo told him and lifted the kitten into the bowl. The kitten paused for a second, then realised that there was nothing to eat in the bowl, and using Frodo's hands as a springboard propelled itself upwards. There was a yelp of pain from Sam, who found himself in the line of fire and then the sound of breaking crockery as the kitten landed on a stack of bowls, which were to have been used for serving the trifle.
Merry clapped his hands together, delighted at the performance.
Sam retrieved the kitten. They tried again.
Bilbo came rushing out to see who was murdering whom. Sam went into the kitchen to get a clean cloth to bind up his lacerated forearm.
It took the combined efforts of Sam, Frodo and Bilbo's oven gloves to hold the kitten in the water long enough to have its legs and belly cleaned. The kitten was not impressed. It fought, seeming to grow telescopic legs; it scratched, and bit with needle sharp little teeth. At last it was reasonably clean and wrapped in a towel, and the two elder boys were bleeding from a profusion of cuts and scratches while Merry seemed to have escaped unscathed.
"There you go Master Frodo." Sam set the clean bundle in Frodo's lap - where it was promptly sick.
In the evening all the guests returned to their own homes except Esmerelda and Merry, both of whom would be staying for a few days, and Samwise Gamgee, who was staying over-night with Frodo and Merry in what he considered to be the greatest treat of his whole life.
Sam was now sitting on the carpet playing with the black and orange kitten, who had proved to be every bit as bold of nature as of colouring and was even now in total command of the hearthrug and repelling all boarders.
Sam had a string of woolly pom-pom balls with which he had been amusing the kitten, but he was now as fair tied up as the kitten!
"What are you going to call him?" Merry wanted to know.
"Something elvish," replied his cousin. "Something heroic out of the old tales."
The kitten spat furiously and arched its back as a yellow fluffy pom-pom became detached from the others and rolled past its nose. It pounded savagely at it and scrabbled at the wool with its back legs until the ball exploded into pieces.
"You should call him Smaug," Sam pronounced.
Bilbo got out of his chair and came to lean over Frodo. He ruffled the boy's dark curls affectionately. "Time you and your dragon were in bed. I've put all you boys in the one guest room. I know there is no point in even trying to separate you. Just, no candles under the covers now, mind!"
Frodo twined his arms round his cousin's neck as Bilbo picked him up to carry into the bedroom. "Thank you Uncle Bilbo," he murmured into the older hobbit's ear and kissed the weathered cheek.
Sam and Merry followed at his heels and Smaug at theirs.
Bilbo returned a while later and stirred up the fire, sitting comfortably beside Esmerelda and joining her in drinking tea. "I hope your Merry is not too sensitive. I'll wager Frodo will be telling them spine-chilling tales all night. I never knew a lad with such an imagination."
Esmerelda smiled. "You are doing a good thing, Bilbo, bringing him here to live with you. I don't say that I won't miss him around the Hall, but he is a lad who needs a lot of attention. He is rather unique and I think you will bring out the best in him, and maybe understand him more than perhaps some of his other cousins could. He will do well."
The sudden sound of someone knocking loudly on Bilbo's beautiful green front door with an umbrella handle caused both hobbits to jump. "Sticklebacks!" swore Bilbo.
He knew who it was already, but there was no putting it off. "I've come for my birthday present," announced Lobelia Sackville-Baggins superciliously the moment the door was open, "and to give you a piece of my mind about that Brandybuck whelp. Bilbo Baggins, taking in a cripple to live with you . . ."
Bilbo slammed the door in Lobelia's face and walked away. He was halfway back to his cup of tea when there was a blood-curdling scream from the guest room. Bilbo shot a worried glance towards the room, then sighed and grinned to himself as he recognised the voice. No doubt Frodo had been telling Merry about the trolls who made hobbits into piecrusts. "Bilbo Baggins," he told himself. "I think you are in for a lot of adventures right here at home."
*****
Everyone slept in late the next morning. The Gaffer was the first sign of life around Bag End as he made his way to the vegetable plots at the end of the garden. Bilbo heard his gardener and got up himself to get the kettle on and fill his largest frying pans with sausages, tomatoes and mushrooms. Esmerelda joined him soon afterwards looking a little guilty at having slept in for so long. She smiled at Bilbo as he poured her a cup of tea and motioned her to be seated while he fussed over breakfast.
Sam was the first of the boys to appear on the scene. He was looking a little shy and lost in his hand-me-down nightshirt which reached down to his ankles.
"Come on in my lad. No need for formalities here, not today." Bilbo told him. "You are a guest now. Come and get some breakfast."
Sam went even redder. "Master Frodo is still asleep but Master Merry is awake."
"I'll get him," sighed Esmerelda, smiling fondly. "That one can smell bacon crisping from the other side of the Farthings."
Esmerelda stuck her head round the bedroom door and found Merry sitting on the floor with Smaug. The imp looked at his mother full of wide-eyed innocence, having not quite forgotten the ear-bending he had received from her on the twin subjects of kittens and trifles and their excessive proximity to one another. "Breakfast?"
"Yes, but you be sure to take the kitten into the kitchen with you, but keep it away from any food! Bilbo has bacon cooking." Merry nodded seriously and then toddled past his mother as fast as his little legs would carry him, down to the kitchen with Smaug on his heels. Of the two, Esmerelda did not know which was the less graceful. Merry ran like a windmill, his nightshirt for a sail, and Smaug was suffering from the blight of all kittens in that his back legs ran faster than his front legs. She restrained an urge to chuckle at the pair and after a few moments she breathed a quick sigh of relief when both young things reached the kitchen without damage.
"Hello," said a sleepy voice from the bed. Frodo was rubbing his eyes and blinking. Esmerelda gave a start and came out of her reverie.
"Good morning." Esmerelda came to sit on the edge of the bed and helped Frodo to sit up. "How are you this morning?"
"Fine," Frodo replied.
Esmerelda looked at the fragile looking little boy in the big bed. She reached out and brushed the tangle of dark curls from his beautiful blue eyes. Pale though he still was he was the most beautiful child Esmerelda had ever seen. It gave her a pang now to look at him. He reminded her so much of his mother.
"Do you want me to help you get ready? I think nightshirts are the code of dress for this morning."
Frodo grinned. "That's tradition for the morning after our birthdays. But, if you don't mind."
"You would rather have Bilbo. I'll go see if he will trust me to cook breakfast."
Frodo sat up in bed looking round his room at all the new things Bilbo had given him for his birthday. Bilbo was always so generous. Yesterday had been a bit over whelming for him: the party; the kitten; moving his foot. He looked down the bed at the outline of his legs beneath the bedcovers and carefully moved his left foot, making the covers bunch and stretch. So, he could still do it. He furrowed his brow and tried to move the whole leg.
Having an idea he tossed aside the bed covers and used his hands to pull his legs over to the side of the bed. He braced one hand on the headboard, then used the other hand and gravity to drop his legs over the side of the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. He took a deep breath.
"Frodo! No!" Bilbo caught Frodo round the waist just as the lad started to tip over the side of the bed, his legs buckling. Unbalanced, both cousins fell to the carpeted floor, Bilbo managing to brace Frodo. Stunned for a moment they sat like that, Frodo mostly on Bilbo's lap.
"Whatever were you thinking of?" asked Bilbo shakily.
"I just wanted to see. I wanted to see if I could." Frodo was trembling badly and Bilbo rubbed his back and shoulders soothingly.
"Shush," Bilbo noticed the enormous blue eyes pooling up with tears. "You can't rush this, my lad. I know you are impatient, but you have to take it slowly or you could risk hurting yourself again."
Frodo leant his head on his cousin's shoulder. "I want to be able to walk again," he whispered.
"And you will. You will my boy." Bilbo hugged Frodo fiercely to him, kissing the dark head. "But for now, lets just get you cleaned up and get some breakfast inside of you. The more you eat the stronger you will get."
Frodo raised his head. "I do love you Bilbo. Thank you for everything, for taking me in, and for, well, just for everything."
"You are all the world to me, my boy," Bilbo assured him, stroking the soft cheek. "Now, we'd better get to the kitchen, or Merry will have eaten all the mushrooms."
*****
The day at Bag End was peacefully spent - for the most part. Merry and Smaug proved a well matched pair, alternating their time between sleeping flat out, eating, playing, and performing minor acts of destruction. Sam was content to sit by Frodo's side on the couch.
Frodo's present to Merry, of a toy boat, had proved a great success at bath time. Merry was too eager to try out his new toy to protest needing to have a bath. "But I haven't done anything to get dirty yet!" was his usual battle cry. But this morning it was silenced and he propelled the beautifully detailed model around his bathtub hardly noticing his mother and the washcloth.
Frodo's present to Sam had been a beautiful picture book, which had come all the way from Rivendell. Sam was entranced by the pictures and turned the pages begging Frodo to tell him stories about the animals, birds, elves, and great trees of the forests.
"Is it true that some trees can talk?"
And Frodo had spun a tail about a little hobbit lad who befriended a talking tree and went to live in the forest with the animals until Sam fell asleep cuddled up next to the older boy under a blanket.
Frodo too soon fell asleep and dreamt that he was walking through a forest of enormous trees, with Sam at his side. In the dream there were little lights in the trees and tall graceful forms moving up staircases which wound around the trunks. There was singing too - a sort of ethereal singing which tore at him and made him want to cry with its beauty and its sadness, and Bilbo watched over him as he dreamed, wondering at the tears trickling from the young hobbit's eyes.