A/n: I think I'm back on track with this story.  For a time there I had no idea how it was going to go, but for the most part I've gotten it worked out in my head.  Hopefully.  *crosses fingers*  For those still actually reading this, thank you for your patience.  Oh, and the next chapter should hopefully be a little longer. 

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"Whoa, then, what's this?"

Damon Proudfoot frowned through the pouring rain down at the two lads being held before him.  One was thin and pale, with dark curls clinging to his brow from the rain; the other, smaller and obviously younger, golden curls equally soaked.

"Found 'em like this by the river!" said the burly hobbit holding the older boy.  The lass holding the child—no less burly herself—nodded in agreement. 

Damon's frown deepened, and he stepped back from the door, ushering in the drenched four.  "Well, come in, come in!  Can't have them or you two catching your death of cold, can we?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, sir!"

Damon waved off their thanks, and pulled the door closed behind them.  The midwife came and took their cloaks from them to hang by the fire, unclasping them herself so the pair could keep a hold on the children.

"Now," Damon said, brushing a hand through his grey and black peppered hair.  "What have we got here?"

"Don't know who they are," the lass said through lightly chattering teeth.  "Someone's bound to be worried for 'em, though, I recon.  Or someone needs a good beating for letting their kids wander in a storm such as this."

"I recognize that 'un," the midwife said, returning and looking down at Sam.  "Seen him 'round here once or twice when one of his brothers or sisters was ill.  Don't know his name, but last name's Gamgee."

Damon frowned, a crease forming in his brow as he leaned over to peer more closely at the pale boy in the hobbit woman's arms.  "Hamfast's littlest?  S'that him?"

The midwife—Lilly—nodded.  "Aye."

"Then you're right, Ham's bound to worry.  Lilly, go and fetch Rowan, tell him to take the pony down to Bagshot Row straight away.  Ham'll want to know where his son is, but I don't think we really ought to think about moving the lad until we've taken a closer look at him.  Tell him 'bout this other lad, too—mayhap if it's someone this lad's with often Ham'll know who he is."

Lilly bowed and hurried out of the room to fetch the apprentice.

"Now then," Damon said, turning back to the shivering couple clutching the hobbit children, "let's take a look at them, shall we?  And then get you two a nice hot cup of tea."

The group trooped out of the hall and into one of the adjoining rooms.  Frodo and Sam were gently lowered to a pair of soft cots.  Damon turned to the shivering couple. 

"Now, why don't the two of you come along into the living room?  I can arrange some tea to be made, and…"

"Oh, no, sir, thankee kindly," the man said, bowing and backing toward the door.  "We'd best be getting back, we've a long way to go."

Damon frowned, "In this weather?  Are you certain?  Wouldn't you like to at least warm yourselves by the fire a bit?  And I'm certain Ham'll want to thank you, as well as this lad's parents…you've saved their lives, after all…"

The lass shook her head.  "Nay, sir, thankee again, but we'd really best get going."

Damon shook his head in amazement.  "You're certain…"

"Yes, sir."

He shook his head.  "All right, then.  But at least take some dry cloaks.  You'll freeze if you wear those water-logged ones of yours.  Here, I've got plenty of extras."

The hobbits tried to protest, but Damon insisted, shoving the cloaks into their hands.  "Gifts and payment from some of my patients who are skilled at knitting," he said with a kindly smile.  "I haven't much use for all of them, since it's just me an' Lilly here for the most part, though Rowan's in and out now too, I'll admit.  But I've got dozens.  Please, take some."

The blushing couple reluctantly accepted a matching pair of finely knit dry cloaks and hurried out into the night. 

Damon shook his head, then turned his attention back to his patients. 

"Best be seeing to these lads, then," he muttered to himself.  "If I'm not mistaken the pair o' you has quite a story to tell.  Too bad you won't be doing much telling for the time being."

He moved forward and, after gazing sadly down at the pair for a moment, set to work.

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"Hamfast!"

Hamfast looked up at the sound of his wife's voice, squinting through the rain into the water-logged field.  Through the torrents he could barely make out her figure, racing toward him, another figure in tow. 

"Bell?" he called, and started slogging toward her as quickly as he was able.  "Bell!  What is it?"

They met at the center of the field.  "Ham!" She said, breathless.  "This lad says he thinks they've found our Sam!"

"What?" Hamfast whipped his head to stare at the shivering lad before him.  "Where?"

"By the bridge, sir," he answered through chattering teeth.  "Leastways we thinks it's him.  Lilly says as she knows your son, sir, though we couldn't remember his name."

"Lilly Burrows?  Damon Proudfoot's midwife?"

"Aye, sir."

Hamfast looked at Bell.  "She might know him, then; lass has a way with faces.  Though I don't think we've had Sam there but once or twice." 

"She'd remember, begging your pardon, sir," shivered the lad. 

"Who are you, then, lad?"

"R…Rowan Chubbs, sir.  I'm the healer's apprentice.  And Lilly ain't never forgotten a face."

Hamfast nodded.  "Right, then.  Bell, you go with him, see if it's our Sam.  I'll round up the others.  We've still got to find Mr. Frodo."

He turned to go but felt a tug on his sleeve.  Rowan said, "Mr. Frodo, sir?  Is he sort of pale, with dark hair?  Real slim-like?"

"Yes!" Hamfast said, turning his full attention on the lad again.  "Have you seen him too?"

"He was brought in with the little 'un.  Pair o' folk found 'em by the bridge, carried 'em to us."

Hamfast nodded again.  "That's got to be them," he said.  "Bell, go and get the cart hitched up.  Lad, I'm assuming you rode?"  Rowan nodded.  "Then we're going to borrow your pony, if that's all right.  It'll be faster than going to the stables.  I'll round up the lads and Mr. Bilbo, and you two go get the cart ready.  We'll meet you on the Row in ten minutes."

They both nodded.  Hamfast started to turn to go, then looked at the shivering lad again.  "Bell—while you're at it, see if you can't find one of Halfred's old cloaks for this lad to use.  You oughtn't've come all the way out here, underdressed like that, lad, but I appreciate you were trying to fetch us in a hurry.  We'll get you warmed as best we can, though there's no time to get you properly dry.  We can tend to that at the healer's.  Now hurry!"

They both nodded again, and hurried back across the field as Hamfast reentered the wood, calling for his master and his sons.

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