Shirebound - I'd better bring it on before you bite all your nails off! I'm a nail biter, and I've been chewing on mine as a result of some of the fic around here!
Midgette - Don't worry if you miss reviewing a chapter here and there. Busy time of year for some of us, and the site is so goofed up it requires a huge amount of patience to hunt for a particular story right now! Thanks for reading it!
Endymion - Tweens are so secretive, aren't they? Let's hope Frodo doesn't hold back anything 'important'. Frodo could figure on Merry telling Saradoc all that was in his letter, but Saradoc still has faith in Bilbo's ability to be a good guardian for Frodo. The events in Bree and Bilbo's response to them helped to quiet his doubts. A burr is like a thorn. It's a spiky thing on a plant that can get stuck in your clothing and prickle the heck out of you. If you ever come to Idaho, remind me to warn you about cheet grass. Get that in your socks, and you'll be wanting it out.
Aratlithiel - I'm dreaming of the day when the search criteria will be straightened out. If you miss the next chapter, I'll send you a 'where have you been', as requested. Merry is still looking out for his cousin, and Bilbo is pretty sharp. Lotho's behavior is a little perplexing to him at times, though. Been a while since he's been a tween, so he may have a hard time thinking like one, especially a nasty one like Lotho!
Krista - If you want a good idea of what Lotho looks like, I recommend that you check out the following link - http://www.willow-wode.net/AdultFanfic/RoPFamilyAlbum.htm
Willow - Wode is not only one of the best fanfic writers in existence, she is also a magnificent artist! She has drawn many of the main characters from her work in progress, Rites of Passage. If you haven't read it you should. I cannot think of Lotho now and see anything besides her portrait of the S - Bs. From Harry Potter I think you're thinking of Draco. Lotho and Draco Malfoy would be a heck of a combo. Crossover, anyone?
Amelia Rose - I don't think we have to worry about Saradoc trying to take Frodo back at this point. After all, he expected some friction with the S - B's and mentioned it in passing to Bilbo in one of the later chapters of "On the Banks of the Brandywine." And no, I don't expect anyone to remember that! I love the thing about Lobelia and the spoons too. It comes immediately to mind whenever someone says 'Sackville - Baggins'.
Gayalondiel - If Lotho only knew the Master of Buckland! It would take Frodo openly saying "Take me back to Buckland" to get Saradoc to do it. How unhappy and or scared can Lotho make Frodo? We'll see.
Bookworm2000 - Frodo has no idea what he's in for, it's true. Lotho is just not a good lad. Period. The cleaning of the study was inspired by the first scenes in Bag End in the extended edition of FOTR. The place was just a mess!
QTPie - 2488 - Lotho is considering his options. Some things have to be planned, but some things are also just opportune.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 5 - Accidents Will Happen
Two weeks had passed since the toss - ball incident, and Frodo was pleased to note that the bruise was all but gone, and his ribs didn't feel tender anymore. He had managed to stay out of any rough games in the interim, busying himself largely with the many interesting books Bag End boasted.
He sat on the garden bench, reading an interesting history that had been translated from the original Elvish. He hoped he would one day have enough comprehension of the language to translate something like it himself. The accounts of great battles far away were quite interesting, and he became quickly absorbed in them, so much so that he didn't hear the voice of the person speaking to him at first.
"Mr. Frodo?" Samwise Gamgee shuffled his feet and spoke again. "Mr.Frodo, beggin' your pardon, sir - "
Frodo blinked and looked up from his book. "Oh! Sam, good afternoon." Frodo said, laying the book down softly on the bench. "What are you up to today?"
"Not much, sir. The chores are done for the day, so I just came by to say hello," Sam said, trying to conquer his shyness. He was very curious about Frodo, and hadn't had much time to talk with him or learn much more about the newcomer from Buckland.
"That's very kind of you, Sam. Won't you sit down?" Frodo moved the book aside and gestured to the space beside him on the bench.
"If I'm not disturbing you." The last thing Sam wanted was to have his Gaffer berate him for being bothersome.
"Not in the least," Frodo said politely. "It's always nice to have someone to talk to." Frodo found he was comfortable with Bag End and with Bilbo, but it was times like this when he found he missed Merry the most.
"What are you reading?" Sam asked, glancing at the book.
"An Elvish history," Frodo answered. "It's quite interesting, really."
Sam looked from the book to Frodo. "Is it written in Elvish, Mr. Frodo?"
"No, Sam. It's been translated to common, see?" Frodo opened the book to let Sam look at it.
"Oh, I see," Sam said as he looked at the pages.
"I'm sure Uncle Bilbo wouldn't mind if you read it when I've finished," Frodo offered. "That is if such things interest you."
"It sounds interesting, Mr. Frodo," Sam said honestly, but he looked at his toes as he continued, "Only I can't read it, sir. I ain't got my letters like you and Mr. Bilbo." He looked up again. "My Gaffer says we got our place and we ought to stay in it, seein' to what needs to be done rather than chasin' words across a page and such."
Frodo was rather taken aback. Samwise couldn't read and his father didn't mind it, and in fact had not encouraged him to learn? An idea came to him. "Well perhaps, if your Gaffer doesn't mind, Bilbo and I can help you learn. Reading is something everyone can enjoy, no matter what it is they do in life."
"You would teach me my letters?" Sam was dumbfounded. Surely a gentlehobbit like Mr. Frodo had better things to do with his time than to teach a gardener to read.
"I'll ask Bilbo if he minds. Will it be all right with your Gaffer?" Frodo was apprehensive. He liked Hamfast Gamgee, but he hoped the steadfast practicality of the older hobbit wouldn't stand in the way of Sam's desire to learn.
"I hope so, Mr. Frodo." As long as he got his chores done to satisfaction, he couldn't figure why his Gaffer would mind him learning his letters in his spare time.
"Ah, Frodo. There you are!" Bilbo walked down the garden path to where Frodo and Sam were sitting together. "Having a good chat then, boys?"
"Yes, Mr. Bilbo, we sure are," Sam replied happily.
"I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if you would mind running to the market for me, Frodo." Bilbo had a list of items in one hand and a few coins in the other. "Just a few small things we're running short of."
"I don't mind at all, Uncle," Frodo said as he traded the book for the list and the coins. "Do you want to come with me Sam?"
"Can I, Mr. Frodo?" Sam's eyes lit up. It would be a nice change to walk to the market with someone besides his brothers and sisters.
Frodo nodded as Bilbo offered, "I'll let your Gaffer know where you're off to so he doesn't worry, Samwise. Now off you go, lads, and stay out of mischief!" Bilbo shooed them up the path and out the gate.
"Tell me more about your family, Sam," Frodo suggested. He was curious about all of Sam's brothers and sisters. What was it like having so many, he wondered? Frodo had grown up with a lot of cousins about at Brandy Hall, but it just couldn't be the same as brothers and sisters.
"I got two brothers an' three sisters," Sam began, stressing the word 'three', as if that were just about as many sisters as a lad ought to be made to have. "Hamson's the oldest, then Halfred. Then there's Daisy, May and me. Marigold is my youngest sister, and she's always pesterin' me. Says I'm her favorite brother 'cause Ham and Hal are too old to be any fun."
Frodo laughed. "I suppose she might feel that way sometimes."
"What about you, Mr. Frodo?" Sam queried brightly.
"I don't have any brothers or sisters, Sam, but I've a lot of cousins. Merry is my favorite." He paused, then explained further. "His name is really Meriadoc, but we've called him Merry since he was very small."
Sam tried not to show his surprise. No brothers or sisters? It was hard for him to imagine. "Is he going to come to visit you?" Sam hoped so. If Merry were as friendly as Frodo, they would have a lot of fun together.
"I hope so, Sam. I miss him very much." Frodo smiled at fond memories. "We did everything together. It was Merry who taught me to swim."
Sam shuddered anew at the mention of swimming. "Like I said before, Mr. Frodo, I'm none too fond of the idea of goin' into the water." He gave Frodo a sidelong glance. "You're not pullin' my leg or anythin', are you? Folk in Buckland really do swim? On purpose?"
"Yes, on purpose," Frodo answered, laughing. "I once felt as you do," Frodo told him honestly. "But Merry insisted that I learn to swim, and when he's set on something there's no turning him aside."
They continued to walk and chat amiably, making their way to the market. As they walked up a hill along the way, Frodo noticed Lotho and Ted loading some barrels into a wagon a little farther up the incline. Or rather, Ted seemed to be loading them while Lotho leaned against the wagon and watched. Frodo waved cheerfully as they passed. Lotho waved back, then turned to Ted.
"Well, there he goes, the little cousin old Bilbo favors so highly," Lotho said sarcastically.
"That's him? Why he don't look like a proper hobbit at all!" Ted observed. "Too skinny. And why is he so pale?"
"Don't know. Too much time indoors reading those silly books Bilbo prizes so highly I guess," Lotho answered, leaning against the wagon. "No matter what he is or isn't, I don't intend to let him ruin my chances of getting my inheritance."
Lotho looked pointedly at Ted as he tapped his fingers on the back end of the wagon. The back had been folded down on its hinges to allow the barrels to be put inside. Once that was accomplished, it could be latched back in place to keep them there. As Lotho brooded, his fingers brushed over the latch and lingered. A slow smile spread across his face.
"Just hold on a few minutes with me Ted, and I'll show you how to deal with interference from your distant relations." He grinned at the miller's son, who looked back at him curiously.
~*~
"Good day, cousin," Lotho said mildly as Frodo and Sam passed by with their hands full of items from the market. He was leaning against the wagon, and Ted was sitting in the seat, twirling the reins idly. "Out for a stroll, I see."
"Good afternoon, Lotho," Frodo replied politely. "Sam and I were just getting some things at the market for Uncle Bilbo."
"A good thing he didn't send you by yourself, with all that to carry, you know," Lotho observed. "And it's so hard to find decent help these days." His gaze traveled to Sam, who was standing beside Frodo looking rather uncomfortable.
"Sam is indeed helping me, and doing a fine job of it, I might add," Frodo said, perhaps a little more defensively than he had planned. He didn't like the condescending way Lotho had looked at Sam.
"And why shouldn't he, cousin?" Lotho looked at Frodo and smiled. "He and his family have been the devoted servants of the Master of Bag End for many years, after all." Lotho grinned and Frodo stiffened.
"The Gaffer has been employed as Uncle Bilbo's gardener for a long time, Lotho, but I would hardly refer to him or any of his family as servants." Gardening was a great skill, if done right. Frodo respected Hamfast Gamgee and his family for all that they did to help his uncle.
"Ah, yes. I forget you were raised in Buckland," Lotho said, as if that explained everything. "I forget that the ways of proper gentlehobbits are sometimes completely ignored there."
Proper gentlehobbits? Was Lotho referring to the fact that Frodo and Sam's growing friendship was somehow not proper due to some foolish social class difference?
"Yes, Lotho," Frodo replied calmly. "I was raised in Buckland, and in Buckland, respect is earned, not merely given, even to gentlehobbits." Frodo looked over his shoulder at Sam. "Sam and I have things to do, so I'm afraid we must be on our way."
Lotho could tell he had struck a nerve. So many nerves, so little time. "As you please, Frodo," Lotho said, nodding. "But think on it, won't you? After all, this is Hobbiton, not Buckland."
"Good day, Lotho," Frodo said rather shortly, and turned to walk down the hill with Sam. He stared straight ahead, a troubled look in his eyes. How could Lotho say such things, and right in front of Sam!
"Mr. Frodo," Sam said softly, "Thank you for what you said."
"I meant it, Sam," Frodo answered. "I don't know what Uncle Bilbo would do without your Gaffer, and you for that matter. You're becoming a greater help to him all the time, you know."
"And I like helpin' Mr. Bilbo," Sam said with a smile. "He's very kind to me, just like you are."
"And why would I not be, Sam?" Frodo wasn't sure he liked the vision of society in Hobbiton that Lotho represented. "You mustn't listen to a snob like Lotho. People like him create imaginary lines that must not be crossed, and they keep people apart rather than bringing them together. It isn't right."
"I'm glad you think so, sir. I'd like to be your friend." Sam looked down at the path and kicked a small stone away. He hoped he wasn't getting out of his place. Lotho was right to some degree, he thought. Genlehobbits normally didn't go mixing too much with their hired help in Hobbiton.
"You are my friend, Sam," Frodo told him seriously. "And if I have my choice, you always will be. Lotho can talk all he wants to, but we don't have to listen to him." Frodo's assertion brought a smile to Sam's face as they made their way toward Bag End.
~*~
"Just a little farther, Ted. Just a moment more." Lotho stood at the back of the wagon, watching Frodo and Sam make their way down the hill. When they were near the bottom, he let his hand brush against the latch on the back of the cart. "Oops," he said casually as the bolt slipped free and the gate dropped, allowing the barrels to spill out the back and begin rolling down the hill.
~*~
Sam heard a 'thump' behind him, followed by a few more. He turned to look and gasped out loud as several barrels rolled down the hill directly at him and Frodo.
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam said urgently, "Look out!"
"What is it, Sam?" Frodo had been lost in thought, considering Lotho's comments. He was startled by Sam's hand gripping his sleeve. He turned and saw the barrels careening toward him.
There was no time left. The barrels, though empty, were still rather heavy. They were rolling down the hill at a frightful pace, gathering speed as they came. The first of them reached its target just as Frodo shoved Sam forcefully to the side, sending him sprawling in the grass.
Wham! The first barrel struck Frodo squarely, knocking him off balance as the second one hit. Frodo fell to the ground, his arms stretched out in front of him to break his fall. He landed hard on one hand, and felt the wrist strain in protest under his weight. He barely managed to roll out of the way of the third barrel as it thumped and bumped past him.
Gasping and coughing in a cloud of dust, Frodo lay on the ground trying to get his bearings. Sam was by his side in an instant, attempting to help him up.
"Mr. Frodo, are you all right?" Sam asked as he pulled on Frodo's arm.
"I think so, but I fear I've sprained my wrist," Frodo replied, still coughing slightly.
Ted and Lotho ran up to them a moment later. "Ted, I told you your da had better fix that dratted latch," Lotho berated his companion. "Now see what's happened?" He looked at Sam disdainfully and pulled Frodo back to his feet. "Are you hurt badly, Cousin?"
"N - no, I don't think so," Frodo stammered, rubbing his wrist. "What happened?"
"That silly old latch on the wagon gate gave way, and those barrels broke free," Lotho explained, pointing at the three barrels that had come to rest alongside the road a short distance away. He addressed Ted, who stood beside him. "Next time you go and load barrels in that wagon, you had better tie them down, Ted. You can't go around knocking the good folk of Hobbiton off their feet with them, you know."
"Right you are, Lotho," Ted acknowledged, trying to keep a hurt expression from his face. How could Lotho stand there and lay the blame on him, when it had been Lotho who had thrown the latch? "Sorry, Frodo," he muttered.
"Sorry about your purchases from the market," Lotho remarked as he surveyed the scattered items in the path. "You might be able to save some of them at least."
Frodo looked with dismay at the scattered remnants of the things they were taking back to Bag End. The eggs were a complete loss, all broken and already attracting a few birds. A dog had wandered up slyly during the aftermath of the commotion, and was making off with a loaf of bread. Still, it could have been worse, Frodo realized. A jar of jam remained mostly undamaged, but dusty from rolling off the road and into the grass. Several other items were none the worse for wear, and everything Sam had carried had been saved when he dropped his burden on the soft grass.
Sam had managed to retrieve most of the fallen items and stood waiting nearby as Frodo dusted himself off. Frodo nodded acknowledgement of Ted's apology. "No real harm was done," he told the older tween. To Lotho, he said, "We should be able to save most of this, I believe."
"I hope Bilbo won't be too angry with you," Lotho said evenly. "After all, it was just an accident." Yes, indeed. Just an accident like any other, Lotho thought smugly.
"Accidents will happen," Frodo answered. "I don't think he'll be angry at all." If anything, Bilbo was likely to be worried and dismayed by the fact that Frodo had incurred some minor damage as a result of the event. His wrist throbbed painfully.
"We had best be getting home. Thank you for stopping to check on us." Frodo said, gathering what he could carry of the remaining items from the market.
"My pleasure, Cousin." Lotho was smiling again. "Safe journey, Frodo." He motioned for Ted to follow him back up the hill, and the two tweens walked away.
Sam looked at Frodo with a mixture of worry and doubt in his features. " Meanin' no offense, Mr. Frodo, but I don't much like that Mr. Lotho," Sam said honestly. "I know he's family of yours, but - "
"Be at ease, Sam," Frodo assured him. "Just because he's family doesn't mean that I like him especially either." Frodo's brow furrowed as he spoke. "He always seems to be polite on the surface, but it seems as if he feels differently underneath." Frodo was unsure of his elder cousin, wishing to believe the best of him, but fearing the worst. "I don't think he likes me very much."
"Why wouldn't he, Mr. Frodo?" Sam wondered why Lotho, or anyone else would have anything against someone as friendly as Frodo. It didn't make a lot of sense to him.
"I don't know, Sam. He and his family don't seem to like Uncle Bilbo a great deal either." He didn't go into the story of how the Sackville - Bagginses coveted Bag End. For all he knew, that was perhaps just Bilbo's opinion, and there was some other unnamed reason as to why the Sackville - Bagginses were so cold toward his guardian.
Sam and Frodo continued on their way, speaking in subdued voices. They spoke of other things as they walked, not wanting to raise the subject of Frodo's unpleasant relatives again.
~*~
Ted grunted as he lifted the last of the three barrels back into the wagon and latched it securely. There was nothing wrong with the latch, either. He fumed at Lotho's use of it as an excuse for the 'accident'. All this was Lotho's doing, not his. Still, he remembered that he had agreed to help Lotho get rid of this cousin of his. Was this to be his role? Taking the blame? Ted wasn't sure he wanted any part of the venture if that were the case.
"Ain't nothin' wrong with the latch, and you know it," he said, giving Lotho a look. "You let them barrels go yourself."
"Of course I did," Lotho said mildly. "But I couldn't just walk up to Frodo and say so, could I? Not if I want him to get anywhere near me again." And Lotho would need Frodo to get near him if there were to be any more little accidents. "Trust me, Ted. No harm will come to you by any of this. I just need you to play along, all right?"
"All right," Ted grumbled in irritation. "But it'll cost you some ale."
"It's a deal," Lotho said, shaking Ted's hand and guiding him back to the seat of the cart. "Let's go dump these barrels and I'll pay up per our agreement." They climbed up into the cart and headed for the Sandymans' shed to stow the empty barrels.
~*~
Sam and Frodo walked into Bag End and laid the market items on the table. Bilbo looked at Frodo curiously. What had happened to the lad now, he wondered? Frodo was covered in dust and had a few scrapes showing on his legs and arms. He was rubbing one wrist, which was already beginning to swell.
"Frodo, what's the meaning of this?" Bilbo asked suspiciously.
"I'm sorry, Uncle. There was a bit of an accident. I'm afraid the eggs were lost, and the bread also." Frodo looked contrite as he gestured to what was left of their purchases.
"I'm not talking about the food, lad." Bilbo pointed at the scrapes on Frodo's leg. "I'm talking about the state you're in. How did you get those scratches, and where did all that dust come from?"
"We were walkin' home when some barrels rolled down the hill at us," Sam said, coming to Frodo's defense. "Mr. Frodo shoved me out of the way and they hit him instead." Sam said breathlessly.
"Barrels? What barrels?" Bilbo said in confusion. Barrels didn't just go rolling down hills of their own accord. "Frodo, what's going on?"
"Lotho and Ted Sandyman were at the top of the hill with a wagon," Frodo explained. "The latch broke and the barrels came free."
"Lotho again?" Bilbo's eyes narrowed slightly. "That boy brings entirely too much bad luck with him these days, Frodo. I think you should steer clear of him whenever possible."
"He also said a few things I didn't like." Frodo recalled the conversation. "He called Sam and his family your servants, and said it wasn't proper of a gentlehobbit to be going about with them."
Bilbo glowered as he replied. "That is typical Sackville - Baggins snobbery, lad. You shall go about with whomever you please, as long as they are decent folk." He smiled at Sam, who sat quietly nearby. "I'd say you'd have to go a good distance to find any more decent than young Samwise and his kin. Pay your cousin no mind, Frodo. It's plain he's lacking one of his own."
The gibe made Frodo snicker and Sam smiled. Bilbo examined Frodo's sore wrist carefully. He moved it slowly, watching Frodo's expression. A wince and abrupt intake of breath told him all he needed to know.
"That's a nasty sprain, lad. You'd better sit down and let me pack it in ice for a while." Frodo nodded and took another seat at the table. "By the way, you got a letter from Merry." Bilbo handed the note to the tween as he left for the cellar to get some ice.
"Merry says he'd like to meet you, Sam," Frodo said as his eyes scanned the page. "He also agrees with Uncle Bilbo that I should watch Lotho. He says I shouldn't trust him any father than I could toss him."
"And I won't say otherwise neither," Sam agreed. "I don't care what Mr. Lotho says about me and mine, but if he's doing anything hurtful toward you, Mr. Frodo, you ought to stay clear of him." Sam colored as he realized what his Gaffer would say to hear him speaking in such a manner to Frodo.
Frodo didn't seem to mind Sam's forwardness. "Your advice is appreciated, Sam." Frodo smiled at him across the table. "And I do care what he says about you and yours, even though he's wrong. Perhaps he'll understand that one day." One could always hope.
"Thank you for protecting me today, Mr. Frodo," Sam said earnestly. "I'll repay the favor, on my word. Nobody's going to do you a bad turn if I have anythin' to do about it."
"I'm sure that's so, Sam." Frodo smiled at his friend. "Nobody would dare, with Samwise Gamgee keeping vigil."
Bilbo wrapped Frodo's wrist and laid ice packs around it on the table as Sam excused himself to join his family for tea. Frodo waved as Sam stepped out the door.
"Samwise has taken quite a liking to you, hasn't he, lad?" Bilbo observed fondly. He approved whole - heartedly, as Sam was a good youngster. "You two are becoming good friends, are you not?"
"I believe we are, Uncle," Frodo answered, his expression brightening as he remembered something. "In fact, Sam was quite interested in the book I was reading earlier. Did you know he can't read?"
Bilbo considered. "I rather doubted that he'd been taught his letters, although I haven't asked, and the lad has never broached the subject himself. Would he like to learn?"
"Oh, yes, Uncle. He would like that very much!" Frodo was pleased to see that Bilbo wasn't against the idea. "I could teach him, but he would benefit from your knowledge also," he suggested as Bilbo listened.
"If Hamfast doesn't mind his son's spending some of his time in such pursuits, I wouldn't mind helping the lad at all," Bilbo replied. "It might do some good for young Samwise to have his letters. There are many good books on the subject of gardening that he might one day choose to read, and who knows? When he's old and wise, he may decide to write one of his own." Bilbo winked at Frodo, referring to his own book, which he worked on in the evenings.
Frodo laughed. "So you'll do it then? You'll help me teach Sam to read and write?" Frodo was thrilled with the idea, not just for Sam's sake, but for his own. It would give him something more to do besides learning to behave like a 'gentlehobbit'.
"I will indeed, Frodo lad. Now let's have some tea and see to your own lessons, shall we?" Bilbo put the kettle on and he and Frodo remained at the table, the elder hobbit drilling the younger in his studies.
~*~To be continued~*~
Midgette - Don't worry if you miss reviewing a chapter here and there. Busy time of year for some of us, and the site is so goofed up it requires a huge amount of patience to hunt for a particular story right now! Thanks for reading it!
Endymion - Tweens are so secretive, aren't they? Let's hope Frodo doesn't hold back anything 'important'. Frodo could figure on Merry telling Saradoc all that was in his letter, but Saradoc still has faith in Bilbo's ability to be a good guardian for Frodo. The events in Bree and Bilbo's response to them helped to quiet his doubts. A burr is like a thorn. It's a spiky thing on a plant that can get stuck in your clothing and prickle the heck out of you. If you ever come to Idaho, remind me to warn you about cheet grass. Get that in your socks, and you'll be wanting it out.
Aratlithiel - I'm dreaming of the day when the search criteria will be straightened out. If you miss the next chapter, I'll send you a 'where have you been', as requested. Merry is still looking out for his cousin, and Bilbo is pretty sharp. Lotho's behavior is a little perplexing to him at times, though. Been a while since he's been a tween, so he may have a hard time thinking like one, especially a nasty one like Lotho!
Krista - If you want a good idea of what Lotho looks like, I recommend that you check out the following link - http://www.willow-wode.net/AdultFanfic/RoPFamilyAlbum.htm
Willow - Wode is not only one of the best fanfic writers in existence, she is also a magnificent artist! She has drawn many of the main characters from her work in progress, Rites of Passage. If you haven't read it you should. I cannot think of Lotho now and see anything besides her portrait of the S - Bs. From Harry Potter I think you're thinking of Draco. Lotho and Draco Malfoy would be a heck of a combo. Crossover, anyone?
Amelia Rose - I don't think we have to worry about Saradoc trying to take Frodo back at this point. After all, he expected some friction with the S - B's and mentioned it in passing to Bilbo in one of the later chapters of "On the Banks of the Brandywine." And no, I don't expect anyone to remember that! I love the thing about Lobelia and the spoons too. It comes immediately to mind whenever someone says 'Sackville - Baggins'.
Gayalondiel - If Lotho only knew the Master of Buckland! It would take Frodo openly saying "Take me back to Buckland" to get Saradoc to do it. How unhappy and or scared can Lotho make Frodo? We'll see.
Bookworm2000 - Frodo has no idea what he's in for, it's true. Lotho is just not a good lad. Period. The cleaning of the study was inspired by the first scenes in Bag End in the extended edition of FOTR. The place was just a mess!
QTPie - 2488 - Lotho is considering his options. Some things have to be planned, but some things are also just opportune.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 5 - Accidents Will Happen
Two weeks had passed since the toss - ball incident, and Frodo was pleased to note that the bruise was all but gone, and his ribs didn't feel tender anymore. He had managed to stay out of any rough games in the interim, busying himself largely with the many interesting books Bag End boasted.
He sat on the garden bench, reading an interesting history that had been translated from the original Elvish. He hoped he would one day have enough comprehension of the language to translate something like it himself. The accounts of great battles far away were quite interesting, and he became quickly absorbed in them, so much so that he didn't hear the voice of the person speaking to him at first.
"Mr. Frodo?" Samwise Gamgee shuffled his feet and spoke again. "Mr.Frodo, beggin' your pardon, sir - "
Frodo blinked and looked up from his book. "Oh! Sam, good afternoon." Frodo said, laying the book down softly on the bench. "What are you up to today?"
"Not much, sir. The chores are done for the day, so I just came by to say hello," Sam said, trying to conquer his shyness. He was very curious about Frodo, and hadn't had much time to talk with him or learn much more about the newcomer from Buckland.
"That's very kind of you, Sam. Won't you sit down?" Frodo moved the book aside and gestured to the space beside him on the bench.
"If I'm not disturbing you." The last thing Sam wanted was to have his Gaffer berate him for being bothersome.
"Not in the least," Frodo said politely. "It's always nice to have someone to talk to." Frodo found he was comfortable with Bag End and with Bilbo, but it was times like this when he found he missed Merry the most.
"What are you reading?" Sam asked, glancing at the book.
"An Elvish history," Frodo answered. "It's quite interesting, really."
Sam looked from the book to Frodo. "Is it written in Elvish, Mr. Frodo?"
"No, Sam. It's been translated to common, see?" Frodo opened the book to let Sam look at it.
"Oh, I see," Sam said as he looked at the pages.
"I'm sure Uncle Bilbo wouldn't mind if you read it when I've finished," Frodo offered. "That is if such things interest you."
"It sounds interesting, Mr. Frodo," Sam said honestly, but he looked at his toes as he continued, "Only I can't read it, sir. I ain't got my letters like you and Mr. Bilbo." He looked up again. "My Gaffer says we got our place and we ought to stay in it, seein' to what needs to be done rather than chasin' words across a page and such."
Frodo was rather taken aback. Samwise couldn't read and his father didn't mind it, and in fact had not encouraged him to learn? An idea came to him. "Well perhaps, if your Gaffer doesn't mind, Bilbo and I can help you learn. Reading is something everyone can enjoy, no matter what it is they do in life."
"You would teach me my letters?" Sam was dumbfounded. Surely a gentlehobbit like Mr. Frodo had better things to do with his time than to teach a gardener to read.
"I'll ask Bilbo if he minds. Will it be all right with your Gaffer?" Frodo was apprehensive. He liked Hamfast Gamgee, but he hoped the steadfast practicality of the older hobbit wouldn't stand in the way of Sam's desire to learn.
"I hope so, Mr. Frodo." As long as he got his chores done to satisfaction, he couldn't figure why his Gaffer would mind him learning his letters in his spare time.
"Ah, Frodo. There you are!" Bilbo walked down the garden path to where Frodo and Sam were sitting together. "Having a good chat then, boys?"
"Yes, Mr. Bilbo, we sure are," Sam replied happily.
"I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if you would mind running to the market for me, Frodo." Bilbo had a list of items in one hand and a few coins in the other. "Just a few small things we're running short of."
"I don't mind at all, Uncle," Frodo said as he traded the book for the list and the coins. "Do you want to come with me Sam?"
"Can I, Mr. Frodo?" Sam's eyes lit up. It would be a nice change to walk to the market with someone besides his brothers and sisters.
Frodo nodded as Bilbo offered, "I'll let your Gaffer know where you're off to so he doesn't worry, Samwise. Now off you go, lads, and stay out of mischief!" Bilbo shooed them up the path and out the gate.
"Tell me more about your family, Sam," Frodo suggested. He was curious about all of Sam's brothers and sisters. What was it like having so many, he wondered? Frodo had grown up with a lot of cousins about at Brandy Hall, but it just couldn't be the same as brothers and sisters.
"I got two brothers an' three sisters," Sam began, stressing the word 'three', as if that were just about as many sisters as a lad ought to be made to have. "Hamson's the oldest, then Halfred. Then there's Daisy, May and me. Marigold is my youngest sister, and she's always pesterin' me. Says I'm her favorite brother 'cause Ham and Hal are too old to be any fun."
Frodo laughed. "I suppose she might feel that way sometimes."
"What about you, Mr. Frodo?" Sam queried brightly.
"I don't have any brothers or sisters, Sam, but I've a lot of cousins. Merry is my favorite." He paused, then explained further. "His name is really Meriadoc, but we've called him Merry since he was very small."
Sam tried not to show his surprise. No brothers or sisters? It was hard for him to imagine. "Is he going to come to visit you?" Sam hoped so. If Merry were as friendly as Frodo, they would have a lot of fun together.
"I hope so, Sam. I miss him very much." Frodo smiled at fond memories. "We did everything together. It was Merry who taught me to swim."
Sam shuddered anew at the mention of swimming. "Like I said before, Mr. Frodo, I'm none too fond of the idea of goin' into the water." He gave Frodo a sidelong glance. "You're not pullin' my leg or anythin', are you? Folk in Buckland really do swim? On purpose?"
"Yes, on purpose," Frodo answered, laughing. "I once felt as you do," Frodo told him honestly. "But Merry insisted that I learn to swim, and when he's set on something there's no turning him aside."
They continued to walk and chat amiably, making their way to the market. As they walked up a hill along the way, Frodo noticed Lotho and Ted loading some barrels into a wagon a little farther up the incline. Or rather, Ted seemed to be loading them while Lotho leaned against the wagon and watched. Frodo waved cheerfully as they passed. Lotho waved back, then turned to Ted.
"Well, there he goes, the little cousin old Bilbo favors so highly," Lotho said sarcastically.
"That's him? Why he don't look like a proper hobbit at all!" Ted observed. "Too skinny. And why is he so pale?"
"Don't know. Too much time indoors reading those silly books Bilbo prizes so highly I guess," Lotho answered, leaning against the wagon. "No matter what he is or isn't, I don't intend to let him ruin my chances of getting my inheritance."
Lotho looked pointedly at Ted as he tapped his fingers on the back end of the wagon. The back had been folded down on its hinges to allow the barrels to be put inside. Once that was accomplished, it could be latched back in place to keep them there. As Lotho brooded, his fingers brushed over the latch and lingered. A slow smile spread across his face.
"Just hold on a few minutes with me Ted, and I'll show you how to deal with interference from your distant relations." He grinned at the miller's son, who looked back at him curiously.
~*~
"Good day, cousin," Lotho said mildly as Frodo and Sam passed by with their hands full of items from the market. He was leaning against the wagon, and Ted was sitting in the seat, twirling the reins idly. "Out for a stroll, I see."
"Good afternoon, Lotho," Frodo replied politely. "Sam and I were just getting some things at the market for Uncle Bilbo."
"A good thing he didn't send you by yourself, with all that to carry, you know," Lotho observed. "And it's so hard to find decent help these days." His gaze traveled to Sam, who was standing beside Frodo looking rather uncomfortable.
"Sam is indeed helping me, and doing a fine job of it, I might add," Frodo said, perhaps a little more defensively than he had planned. He didn't like the condescending way Lotho had looked at Sam.
"And why shouldn't he, cousin?" Lotho looked at Frodo and smiled. "He and his family have been the devoted servants of the Master of Bag End for many years, after all." Lotho grinned and Frodo stiffened.
"The Gaffer has been employed as Uncle Bilbo's gardener for a long time, Lotho, but I would hardly refer to him or any of his family as servants." Gardening was a great skill, if done right. Frodo respected Hamfast Gamgee and his family for all that they did to help his uncle.
"Ah, yes. I forget you were raised in Buckland," Lotho said, as if that explained everything. "I forget that the ways of proper gentlehobbits are sometimes completely ignored there."
Proper gentlehobbits? Was Lotho referring to the fact that Frodo and Sam's growing friendship was somehow not proper due to some foolish social class difference?
"Yes, Lotho," Frodo replied calmly. "I was raised in Buckland, and in Buckland, respect is earned, not merely given, even to gentlehobbits." Frodo looked over his shoulder at Sam. "Sam and I have things to do, so I'm afraid we must be on our way."
Lotho could tell he had struck a nerve. So many nerves, so little time. "As you please, Frodo," Lotho said, nodding. "But think on it, won't you? After all, this is Hobbiton, not Buckland."
"Good day, Lotho," Frodo said rather shortly, and turned to walk down the hill with Sam. He stared straight ahead, a troubled look in his eyes. How could Lotho say such things, and right in front of Sam!
"Mr. Frodo," Sam said softly, "Thank you for what you said."
"I meant it, Sam," Frodo answered. "I don't know what Uncle Bilbo would do without your Gaffer, and you for that matter. You're becoming a greater help to him all the time, you know."
"And I like helpin' Mr. Bilbo," Sam said with a smile. "He's very kind to me, just like you are."
"And why would I not be, Sam?" Frodo wasn't sure he liked the vision of society in Hobbiton that Lotho represented. "You mustn't listen to a snob like Lotho. People like him create imaginary lines that must not be crossed, and they keep people apart rather than bringing them together. It isn't right."
"I'm glad you think so, sir. I'd like to be your friend." Sam looked down at the path and kicked a small stone away. He hoped he wasn't getting out of his place. Lotho was right to some degree, he thought. Genlehobbits normally didn't go mixing too much with their hired help in Hobbiton.
"You are my friend, Sam," Frodo told him seriously. "And if I have my choice, you always will be. Lotho can talk all he wants to, but we don't have to listen to him." Frodo's assertion brought a smile to Sam's face as they made their way toward Bag End.
~*~
"Just a little farther, Ted. Just a moment more." Lotho stood at the back of the wagon, watching Frodo and Sam make their way down the hill. When they were near the bottom, he let his hand brush against the latch on the back of the cart. "Oops," he said casually as the bolt slipped free and the gate dropped, allowing the barrels to spill out the back and begin rolling down the hill.
~*~
Sam heard a 'thump' behind him, followed by a few more. He turned to look and gasped out loud as several barrels rolled down the hill directly at him and Frodo.
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam said urgently, "Look out!"
"What is it, Sam?" Frodo had been lost in thought, considering Lotho's comments. He was startled by Sam's hand gripping his sleeve. He turned and saw the barrels careening toward him.
There was no time left. The barrels, though empty, were still rather heavy. They were rolling down the hill at a frightful pace, gathering speed as they came. The first of them reached its target just as Frodo shoved Sam forcefully to the side, sending him sprawling in the grass.
Wham! The first barrel struck Frodo squarely, knocking him off balance as the second one hit. Frodo fell to the ground, his arms stretched out in front of him to break his fall. He landed hard on one hand, and felt the wrist strain in protest under his weight. He barely managed to roll out of the way of the third barrel as it thumped and bumped past him.
Gasping and coughing in a cloud of dust, Frodo lay on the ground trying to get his bearings. Sam was by his side in an instant, attempting to help him up.
"Mr. Frodo, are you all right?" Sam asked as he pulled on Frodo's arm.
"I think so, but I fear I've sprained my wrist," Frodo replied, still coughing slightly.
Ted and Lotho ran up to them a moment later. "Ted, I told you your da had better fix that dratted latch," Lotho berated his companion. "Now see what's happened?" He looked at Sam disdainfully and pulled Frodo back to his feet. "Are you hurt badly, Cousin?"
"N - no, I don't think so," Frodo stammered, rubbing his wrist. "What happened?"
"That silly old latch on the wagon gate gave way, and those barrels broke free," Lotho explained, pointing at the three barrels that had come to rest alongside the road a short distance away. He addressed Ted, who stood beside him. "Next time you go and load barrels in that wagon, you had better tie them down, Ted. You can't go around knocking the good folk of Hobbiton off their feet with them, you know."
"Right you are, Lotho," Ted acknowledged, trying to keep a hurt expression from his face. How could Lotho stand there and lay the blame on him, when it had been Lotho who had thrown the latch? "Sorry, Frodo," he muttered.
"Sorry about your purchases from the market," Lotho remarked as he surveyed the scattered items in the path. "You might be able to save some of them at least."
Frodo looked with dismay at the scattered remnants of the things they were taking back to Bag End. The eggs were a complete loss, all broken and already attracting a few birds. A dog had wandered up slyly during the aftermath of the commotion, and was making off with a loaf of bread. Still, it could have been worse, Frodo realized. A jar of jam remained mostly undamaged, but dusty from rolling off the road and into the grass. Several other items were none the worse for wear, and everything Sam had carried had been saved when he dropped his burden on the soft grass.
Sam had managed to retrieve most of the fallen items and stood waiting nearby as Frodo dusted himself off. Frodo nodded acknowledgement of Ted's apology. "No real harm was done," he told the older tween. To Lotho, he said, "We should be able to save most of this, I believe."
"I hope Bilbo won't be too angry with you," Lotho said evenly. "After all, it was just an accident." Yes, indeed. Just an accident like any other, Lotho thought smugly.
"Accidents will happen," Frodo answered. "I don't think he'll be angry at all." If anything, Bilbo was likely to be worried and dismayed by the fact that Frodo had incurred some minor damage as a result of the event. His wrist throbbed painfully.
"We had best be getting home. Thank you for stopping to check on us." Frodo said, gathering what he could carry of the remaining items from the market.
"My pleasure, Cousin." Lotho was smiling again. "Safe journey, Frodo." He motioned for Ted to follow him back up the hill, and the two tweens walked away.
Sam looked at Frodo with a mixture of worry and doubt in his features. " Meanin' no offense, Mr. Frodo, but I don't much like that Mr. Lotho," Sam said honestly. "I know he's family of yours, but - "
"Be at ease, Sam," Frodo assured him. "Just because he's family doesn't mean that I like him especially either." Frodo's brow furrowed as he spoke. "He always seems to be polite on the surface, but it seems as if he feels differently underneath." Frodo was unsure of his elder cousin, wishing to believe the best of him, but fearing the worst. "I don't think he likes me very much."
"Why wouldn't he, Mr. Frodo?" Sam wondered why Lotho, or anyone else would have anything against someone as friendly as Frodo. It didn't make a lot of sense to him.
"I don't know, Sam. He and his family don't seem to like Uncle Bilbo a great deal either." He didn't go into the story of how the Sackville - Bagginses coveted Bag End. For all he knew, that was perhaps just Bilbo's opinion, and there was some other unnamed reason as to why the Sackville - Bagginses were so cold toward his guardian.
Sam and Frodo continued on their way, speaking in subdued voices. They spoke of other things as they walked, not wanting to raise the subject of Frodo's unpleasant relatives again.
~*~
Ted grunted as he lifted the last of the three barrels back into the wagon and latched it securely. There was nothing wrong with the latch, either. He fumed at Lotho's use of it as an excuse for the 'accident'. All this was Lotho's doing, not his. Still, he remembered that he had agreed to help Lotho get rid of this cousin of his. Was this to be his role? Taking the blame? Ted wasn't sure he wanted any part of the venture if that were the case.
"Ain't nothin' wrong with the latch, and you know it," he said, giving Lotho a look. "You let them barrels go yourself."
"Of course I did," Lotho said mildly. "But I couldn't just walk up to Frodo and say so, could I? Not if I want him to get anywhere near me again." And Lotho would need Frodo to get near him if there were to be any more little accidents. "Trust me, Ted. No harm will come to you by any of this. I just need you to play along, all right?"
"All right," Ted grumbled in irritation. "But it'll cost you some ale."
"It's a deal," Lotho said, shaking Ted's hand and guiding him back to the seat of the cart. "Let's go dump these barrels and I'll pay up per our agreement." They climbed up into the cart and headed for the Sandymans' shed to stow the empty barrels.
~*~
Sam and Frodo walked into Bag End and laid the market items on the table. Bilbo looked at Frodo curiously. What had happened to the lad now, he wondered? Frodo was covered in dust and had a few scrapes showing on his legs and arms. He was rubbing one wrist, which was already beginning to swell.
"Frodo, what's the meaning of this?" Bilbo asked suspiciously.
"I'm sorry, Uncle. There was a bit of an accident. I'm afraid the eggs were lost, and the bread also." Frodo looked contrite as he gestured to what was left of their purchases.
"I'm not talking about the food, lad." Bilbo pointed at the scrapes on Frodo's leg. "I'm talking about the state you're in. How did you get those scratches, and where did all that dust come from?"
"We were walkin' home when some barrels rolled down the hill at us," Sam said, coming to Frodo's defense. "Mr. Frodo shoved me out of the way and they hit him instead." Sam said breathlessly.
"Barrels? What barrels?" Bilbo said in confusion. Barrels didn't just go rolling down hills of their own accord. "Frodo, what's going on?"
"Lotho and Ted Sandyman were at the top of the hill with a wagon," Frodo explained. "The latch broke and the barrels came free."
"Lotho again?" Bilbo's eyes narrowed slightly. "That boy brings entirely too much bad luck with him these days, Frodo. I think you should steer clear of him whenever possible."
"He also said a few things I didn't like." Frodo recalled the conversation. "He called Sam and his family your servants, and said it wasn't proper of a gentlehobbit to be going about with them."
Bilbo glowered as he replied. "That is typical Sackville - Baggins snobbery, lad. You shall go about with whomever you please, as long as they are decent folk." He smiled at Sam, who sat quietly nearby. "I'd say you'd have to go a good distance to find any more decent than young Samwise and his kin. Pay your cousin no mind, Frodo. It's plain he's lacking one of his own."
The gibe made Frodo snicker and Sam smiled. Bilbo examined Frodo's sore wrist carefully. He moved it slowly, watching Frodo's expression. A wince and abrupt intake of breath told him all he needed to know.
"That's a nasty sprain, lad. You'd better sit down and let me pack it in ice for a while." Frodo nodded and took another seat at the table. "By the way, you got a letter from Merry." Bilbo handed the note to the tween as he left for the cellar to get some ice.
"Merry says he'd like to meet you, Sam," Frodo said as his eyes scanned the page. "He also agrees with Uncle Bilbo that I should watch Lotho. He says I shouldn't trust him any father than I could toss him."
"And I won't say otherwise neither," Sam agreed. "I don't care what Mr. Lotho says about me and mine, but if he's doing anything hurtful toward you, Mr. Frodo, you ought to stay clear of him." Sam colored as he realized what his Gaffer would say to hear him speaking in such a manner to Frodo.
Frodo didn't seem to mind Sam's forwardness. "Your advice is appreciated, Sam." Frodo smiled at him across the table. "And I do care what he says about you and yours, even though he's wrong. Perhaps he'll understand that one day." One could always hope.
"Thank you for protecting me today, Mr. Frodo," Sam said earnestly. "I'll repay the favor, on my word. Nobody's going to do you a bad turn if I have anythin' to do about it."
"I'm sure that's so, Sam." Frodo smiled at his friend. "Nobody would dare, with Samwise Gamgee keeping vigil."
Bilbo wrapped Frodo's wrist and laid ice packs around it on the table as Sam excused himself to join his family for tea. Frodo waved as Sam stepped out the door.
"Samwise has taken quite a liking to you, hasn't he, lad?" Bilbo observed fondly. He approved whole - heartedly, as Sam was a good youngster. "You two are becoming good friends, are you not?"
"I believe we are, Uncle," Frodo answered, his expression brightening as he remembered something. "In fact, Sam was quite interested in the book I was reading earlier. Did you know he can't read?"
Bilbo considered. "I rather doubted that he'd been taught his letters, although I haven't asked, and the lad has never broached the subject himself. Would he like to learn?"
"Oh, yes, Uncle. He would like that very much!" Frodo was pleased to see that Bilbo wasn't against the idea. "I could teach him, but he would benefit from your knowledge also," he suggested as Bilbo listened.
"If Hamfast doesn't mind his son's spending some of his time in such pursuits, I wouldn't mind helping the lad at all," Bilbo replied. "It might do some good for young Samwise to have his letters. There are many good books on the subject of gardening that he might one day choose to read, and who knows? When he's old and wise, he may decide to write one of his own." Bilbo winked at Frodo, referring to his own book, which he worked on in the evenings.
Frodo laughed. "So you'll do it then? You'll help me teach Sam to read and write?" Frodo was thrilled with the idea, not just for Sam's sake, but for his own. It would give him something more to do besides learning to behave like a 'gentlehobbit'.
"I will indeed, Frodo lad. Now let's have some tea and see to your own lessons, shall we?" Bilbo put the kettle on and he and Frodo remained at the table, the elder hobbit drilling the younger in his studies.
~*~To be continued~*~