Shire reckoning 1383. Frodo is 15, Sam is 3, and Marigold is about to be
born.
Bilbo trotted happily around the kitchen of Bag End putting out bread rolls to cool, checking his meat pies were cooking nicely and mixing a carrot cake or two in the huge earthenware mixing bowl.
Cousin Frodo was due to arrive today for his usual two months stay in Hobbiton for the summer and Bilbo knew enough about growing hobbit lads that his pantry would be put under some strain, and he did not want Frodo supplementing his diet with stolen produce from the local farmers. Reports from Brandy hall had been a bit disturbing this last year. The parentless boy was turning into a bit of a rascal in the warren that was Brandy Hall. Bilbo hoped that some individual attention would help over the summer.
Frodo, hauling a rather huge and very dilapidated carpetbag, jumped down from the cart and waved a cheery goodbye to the driver. The beautifully painted, round green door of Bag End stood open waiting for him. It had already had its new coat of paint for the summer. The young hobbit smiled.
"Frodo my lad!" The comforting and solid figure of Bilbo ran down the garden path, arms outstretched and Frodo felt a rush of warmth and love for the older hobbit. He dropped his carpetbag.
"Uncle Bilbo!" the two cousins clasped each other close as though they had not seen each other for years although they had been together at Brandy Hall for Yule that year.
"Did you have a good trip my boy? Not too tired I hope. So good to see you. Come inside, you'll be wanting something to eat."
Frodo grinned. Some things never changed. Well actually nothing about Bilbo ever seemed to change. He looked the same, he sounded the same. A burden seemed to be lifting already from Frodo's slight shoulders. All was well with the world.
Bell had been waiting all afternoon for the soft knock at her kitchen door. She was sitting by the table sipping a cup of camomile tea. "Come in, my dear."
Frodo had grown a few inches in height over the winter months. His face was rosy and his side smile revealed the gap between his teeth was still present. Bell sometimes wondered if the lad had just never got his second set of teeth. That gab had been a permanent feature ever since she had first seen the eight year old boy on one of his trips to Hobbiton with his parents.
"Hello Mrs Gamgee," Frodo greeted Bell with a careful hug. "How are you?"
"Not too bad, thank you Master Frodo. Come and sit awhile and tell me what you have been up to."
"Nothing as grand as you," Frodo laughed, indicating her once more swollen belly. "When is this Gamgee due?"
"And day now," responded Bell. "This one is not such a kicker as our Samwise/Goldilocks. I'm thinking it will be a girl this time."
"And the name?"
"Well, the Gaffer has all sorts of boy names in mind but I am thinking of Marigold."
"A pretty name."
"Let me get you some tea," Bell rose half way out of her chair before she froze, her hand going to her back and her face paling.
"Are you alright?" Frodo was at her side in an instant, helping to ease her back into her chair.
"Yes, love, no need to fret. But be a dear and pour us both another cup."
Frodo moved to comply looking worriedly at his friend. Mrs Gamgee did not look her usual rosy self. Her cheeks seemed a bit hollow and there were smudges under her eyes.
Bilbo was starting to find life with Frodo was not as much fun as usual. He had been warned that the boy was growing moody and was often caught out in mischief, but he had assumed it was the environment at Brandy Hall, with too many people around, which was causing Frodo to seek attention. The first week of his stay had gone well enough as Frodo renewed his aquatance with old haunts and old friends. He spent his usual amount of time down at Bag Shot row and was often to be seen with young Samwise Gamgee in tow.
But now Bilbo was finding it harder to keep his youngest cousin entertained. The boy had entered that awkward stage where he seemed to find everything totally boring. A knock at the kitchen door interrupted Bilbo's rather gloomy train of thought.
"Beggin' your pardon, Mr Bilbo," the Gaffers usually jovial face was a little strained this morning. "I 'op it be alright, but I've bought Samwise with me this mornin'. The girls are helpin' their ma and little one wud only be in the way."
"I hope all is well with Mrs Gamgee," Bilbo asked concerned.
The Gaffer frowned. "Not so good Mr Bilbo. She's having a bit of a hard time of this one."
"I am sorry to hear that," Bilbo was full of genuine worry for his gardener's wife. Truth was the Gamgee family were his closest friends in the whole of the Shire and he held them dearer than he did a good many of his own relations.
The Gaffer touched his hat. "I'll be on with the work then and young Sam can stay by me. 'e won't be no trouble, Sir."
"I am sure he won't," replied Bilbo. "And make sure you bring him in for some second breakfast."
Frodo shuffled into the kitchen some time later, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and Bilbo inwardly groaned. It was going to be one of 'those' days was it: when Frodo hardly budged from his room and acted as though even turning up for meals was a mighty imposition on his valuable doing nothing time. At this times Bilbo admitted he found his cousin a bit of a chore, but he tried to keep in mind that the lad had no parents to fuss over and guide him and so needed to be given some extra leeway.
"And what have you planned today my boy?" Bilbo asked cheerfully.
"I thought I might do some reading," Frodo said.
Bilbo frowned as he set scrambled eggs and mushrooms on toast in front of the boy. "Come my lad. Too nice a day to be cooped up indoors. You must go out and get some fresh air."
Frodo stuck his fork desolately into his mushrooms and rolled his eyes behind Bilbo's back with an exaggerated sigh with the older hobbit thought best to ignore.
Frodo wandered out into the garden looking as though he expected the fresh air would kill him. He really wanted to get on with reading his book - a rather badly written adventure story about a hobbit boy who got kidnapped by trolls. Frodo was into his 'reading trash' phase.
He dragged his feet up to the plumb tree and threw himself beneath it in a manner which would have shaken the ground had he had more weight to him. He stared up at the branches of the tree and wondered if anyone had ever actually died of boredom. He closed his eyes against the flickering sunlight.
A shadow fell across his face, denser than the swaying branches and Frodo opened his eyes.
"Hello Sam," Frodo sat up. Here was something to interest him. Last year he had gained great entertainment from the antics of the chubby two year old. Now Sam was standing a bit more steadily on his fat legs, thumb stuck firmly in his mouth, as usual, and blond curls stuck full of bits of freshly cut grass.
"'lo," said Sam around his thumb.
"What are you doing here?" Frodo propped himself up on his elbows.
"Helping Da," said Sam, showing Frodo a handful of buttercups he had been picking out of the lawn.
"Want to go see the ducks on the pond?" Frodo asked, cheering somewhat.
Samwise nodded eagerly.
"Lets tell your da then," Frodo took a grubby hand in his and went off to follow the sounds of grass clippers.
As the two boys crossed the lawn Frodo found himself with a feeling of dejar vue as Halfred Gamgee hove into view yelling wildly. "Da, Da. Baby's coming!"
Two hobbit girls were walking up the land at Bag Shot row when the commotion of midwife and doctor passed them by. Stopping to gawp and listen for a moment they then moved on.
"Did you hear what the doctor said?" asked the youngest. "About the Gamgee baby being the wrong was up."
The elder girl stopped beneath the apple tree at the fork in the lane. "My Ma says Bell Gamgee won't survive this one."
The younger looked shocked. "Why ever not?"
"Ma says her Aunt looked just the same in the weeks before her baby was due and she had a horrible time of it." There was relish in the older girls voice. "Her baby was also coming out the wrong way round. Ma had to help and she said there was blood everywhere. It took all night, and then the doctor had to cut her open and the baby was dead inside her - it had suffocated - and then my Aunt died too!"
"That's horrible," cried the younger girl.
The elder tossed her head as she proceeded up the lane. "Comes of being poor and having too many children."
Frodo, as of three years ago, was up in his post in the apple tree. Unobserved he had heard every word the girls had said. He clutched now the solid trunk of the tree and pressed his cheek to the rough bark. 'It was not true! It could not be true! Bell would not die, little Marigold would not die! Mothers should not die!!!'
Frodo flung himself out of the tree, heedless of torn clothing. A twig snagged on his shirt and he tore himself free from its clutch. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees and then was up and running. He paid no heed to the direction he was going.
He had to get out of there. Far away from the awful words. His flight took him by the Gamgee's front gate and sitting on the doorstep he saw Samwise. With out thinking for a moment about what he was doing Frodo grabbed the tiny lad under the arms, hauled him up, and fled the scene with his burden. He had to get them both out of here!
tbc
Bilbo trotted happily around the kitchen of Bag End putting out bread rolls to cool, checking his meat pies were cooking nicely and mixing a carrot cake or two in the huge earthenware mixing bowl.
Cousin Frodo was due to arrive today for his usual two months stay in Hobbiton for the summer and Bilbo knew enough about growing hobbit lads that his pantry would be put under some strain, and he did not want Frodo supplementing his diet with stolen produce from the local farmers. Reports from Brandy hall had been a bit disturbing this last year. The parentless boy was turning into a bit of a rascal in the warren that was Brandy Hall. Bilbo hoped that some individual attention would help over the summer.
Frodo, hauling a rather huge and very dilapidated carpetbag, jumped down from the cart and waved a cheery goodbye to the driver. The beautifully painted, round green door of Bag End stood open waiting for him. It had already had its new coat of paint for the summer. The young hobbit smiled.
"Frodo my lad!" The comforting and solid figure of Bilbo ran down the garden path, arms outstretched and Frodo felt a rush of warmth and love for the older hobbit. He dropped his carpetbag.
"Uncle Bilbo!" the two cousins clasped each other close as though they had not seen each other for years although they had been together at Brandy Hall for Yule that year.
"Did you have a good trip my boy? Not too tired I hope. So good to see you. Come inside, you'll be wanting something to eat."
Frodo grinned. Some things never changed. Well actually nothing about Bilbo ever seemed to change. He looked the same, he sounded the same. A burden seemed to be lifting already from Frodo's slight shoulders. All was well with the world.
Bell had been waiting all afternoon for the soft knock at her kitchen door. She was sitting by the table sipping a cup of camomile tea. "Come in, my dear."
Frodo had grown a few inches in height over the winter months. His face was rosy and his side smile revealed the gap between his teeth was still present. Bell sometimes wondered if the lad had just never got his second set of teeth. That gab had been a permanent feature ever since she had first seen the eight year old boy on one of his trips to Hobbiton with his parents.
"Hello Mrs Gamgee," Frodo greeted Bell with a careful hug. "How are you?"
"Not too bad, thank you Master Frodo. Come and sit awhile and tell me what you have been up to."
"Nothing as grand as you," Frodo laughed, indicating her once more swollen belly. "When is this Gamgee due?"
"And day now," responded Bell. "This one is not such a kicker as our Samwise/Goldilocks. I'm thinking it will be a girl this time."
"And the name?"
"Well, the Gaffer has all sorts of boy names in mind but I am thinking of Marigold."
"A pretty name."
"Let me get you some tea," Bell rose half way out of her chair before she froze, her hand going to her back and her face paling.
"Are you alright?" Frodo was at her side in an instant, helping to ease her back into her chair.
"Yes, love, no need to fret. But be a dear and pour us both another cup."
Frodo moved to comply looking worriedly at his friend. Mrs Gamgee did not look her usual rosy self. Her cheeks seemed a bit hollow and there were smudges under her eyes.
Bilbo was starting to find life with Frodo was not as much fun as usual. He had been warned that the boy was growing moody and was often caught out in mischief, but he had assumed it was the environment at Brandy Hall, with too many people around, which was causing Frodo to seek attention. The first week of his stay had gone well enough as Frodo renewed his aquatance with old haunts and old friends. He spent his usual amount of time down at Bag Shot row and was often to be seen with young Samwise Gamgee in tow.
But now Bilbo was finding it harder to keep his youngest cousin entertained. The boy had entered that awkward stage where he seemed to find everything totally boring. A knock at the kitchen door interrupted Bilbo's rather gloomy train of thought.
"Beggin' your pardon, Mr Bilbo," the Gaffers usually jovial face was a little strained this morning. "I 'op it be alright, but I've bought Samwise with me this mornin'. The girls are helpin' their ma and little one wud only be in the way."
"I hope all is well with Mrs Gamgee," Bilbo asked concerned.
The Gaffer frowned. "Not so good Mr Bilbo. She's having a bit of a hard time of this one."
"I am sorry to hear that," Bilbo was full of genuine worry for his gardener's wife. Truth was the Gamgee family were his closest friends in the whole of the Shire and he held them dearer than he did a good many of his own relations.
The Gaffer touched his hat. "I'll be on with the work then and young Sam can stay by me. 'e won't be no trouble, Sir."
"I am sure he won't," replied Bilbo. "And make sure you bring him in for some second breakfast."
Frodo shuffled into the kitchen some time later, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and Bilbo inwardly groaned. It was going to be one of 'those' days was it: when Frodo hardly budged from his room and acted as though even turning up for meals was a mighty imposition on his valuable doing nothing time. At this times Bilbo admitted he found his cousin a bit of a chore, but he tried to keep in mind that the lad had no parents to fuss over and guide him and so needed to be given some extra leeway.
"And what have you planned today my boy?" Bilbo asked cheerfully.
"I thought I might do some reading," Frodo said.
Bilbo frowned as he set scrambled eggs and mushrooms on toast in front of the boy. "Come my lad. Too nice a day to be cooped up indoors. You must go out and get some fresh air."
Frodo stuck his fork desolately into his mushrooms and rolled his eyes behind Bilbo's back with an exaggerated sigh with the older hobbit thought best to ignore.
Frodo wandered out into the garden looking as though he expected the fresh air would kill him. He really wanted to get on with reading his book - a rather badly written adventure story about a hobbit boy who got kidnapped by trolls. Frodo was into his 'reading trash' phase.
He dragged his feet up to the plumb tree and threw himself beneath it in a manner which would have shaken the ground had he had more weight to him. He stared up at the branches of the tree and wondered if anyone had ever actually died of boredom. He closed his eyes against the flickering sunlight.
A shadow fell across his face, denser than the swaying branches and Frodo opened his eyes.
"Hello Sam," Frodo sat up. Here was something to interest him. Last year he had gained great entertainment from the antics of the chubby two year old. Now Sam was standing a bit more steadily on his fat legs, thumb stuck firmly in his mouth, as usual, and blond curls stuck full of bits of freshly cut grass.
"'lo," said Sam around his thumb.
"What are you doing here?" Frodo propped himself up on his elbows.
"Helping Da," said Sam, showing Frodo a handful of buttercups he had been picking out of the lawn.
"Want to go see the ducks on the pond?" Frodo asked, cheering somewhat.
Samwise nodded eagerly.
"Lets tell your da then," Frodo took a grubby hand in his and went off to follow the sounds of grass clippers.
As the two boys crossed the lawn Frodo found himself with a feeling of dejar vue as Halfred Gamgee hove into view yelling wildly. "Da, Da. Baby's coming!"
Two hobbit girls were walking up the land at Bag Shot row when the commotion of midwife and doctor passed them by. Stopping to gawp and listen for a moment they then moved on.
"Did you hear what the doctor said?" asked the youngest. "About the Gamgee baby being the wrong was up."
The elder girl stopped beneath the apple tree at the fork in the lane. "My Ma says Bell Gamgee won't survive this one."
The younger looked shocked. "Why ever not?"
"Ma says her Aunt looked just the same in the weeks before her baby was due and she had a horrible time of it." There was relish in the older girls voice. "Her baby was also coming out the wrong way round. Ma had to help and she said there was blood everywhere. It took all night, and then the doctor had to cut her open and the baby was dead inside her - it had suffocated - and then my Aunt died too!"
"That's horrible," cried the younger girl.
The elder tossed her head as she proceeded up the lane. "Comes of being poor and having too many children."
Frodo, as of three years ago, was up in his post in the apple tree. Unobserved he had heard every word the girls had said. He clutched now the solid trunk of the tree and pressed his cheek to the rough bark. 'It was not true! It could not be true! Bell would not die, little Marigold would not die! Mothers should not die!!!'
Frodo flung himself out of the tree, heedless of torn clothing. A twig snagged on his shirt and he tore himself free from its clutch. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees and then was up and running. He paid no heed to the direction he was going.
He had to get out of there. Far away from the awful words. His flight took him by the Gamgee's front gate and sitting on the doorstep he saw Samwise. With out thinking for a moment about what he was doing Frodo grabbed the tiny lad under the arms, hauled him up, and fled the scene with his burden. He had to get them both out of here!
tbc