FantasyFan - Now that the power failure is over in your area, you can join us again! The drama in this story is of a different kind than my last one. There will be more to come, of course. There is definitely a contest of wits and wills between Lotho and Bilbo. The only things holding Bilbo back are certain social conventions and a desire to keep from overprotecting Frodo to the point of driving the lad away. We know that Frodo wouldn't allow that to happen, but Bilbo's in a rather vulnerable state as Frodo's new guardian and he's struggling with his doubts. Lotho has such confidence that he decided not to share his activities with his parents. He thinks he can take care of this himself. Such arrogance!
Shirebound - Frodo will get more comfort and love in this chapter. As to keeping Lotho away from him, I'm trying, but that nasty lad is quite persistent.
Krista2 - Frodo is still quite ill. We'll get him on the mend soon, but not before we reunite him with Merry for a bit! Lotho is still lurking about and will be causing more hate and discontent eventually.
Amelia Rose - Lobelia has a bad case of "not my child." It happens all too often that a parent will be blind to what a total monster his or her child really is. Merry can indeed brighten someone's day, and I'm going to let him do just that.
Midgette - Would you believe I've never read any Harry Potter books? I've seen the movies though. The Dursleys and the Sackville - Bagginses do have one thing in common, and that's their doting, delusional attitudes regarding their bratty kids.
Endymion2 - TLC is a good thing, and more is coming. You'll find out soon what Merry and Saradoc think about things. Otho is pretty much overshadowed by his family. He finds it easier to just retreat from Lobelia when she's ranting, and to just pretend his son is not a complete jerk. Remember Nils and Harriet Olson from "Little House on the Prairie?" That's similar to the Otho and Lobelia relationship in this fic.
Bookworm2000 - Nasty Sackville - Bagginses! Gandalf saying that Lobelia's expression could curdle milk came to my mind also as I was writing. I wanted her to be just as sour as possible!
CuriousCat - Lotho is definitely cultivating his devious nature. He does whatever it takes to achieve his ends. If he has to make nice for a while to throw Bilbo off, he will. Lotho will continue to be somewhat conflicted between the small bit of morality he has and his greed.
Camellia Gamgee - Took - You want Merry and Saradoc? You got 'em!
Tavion - Why do we all like the hobbit angst? I think it's just that Frodo is so darn cute when he's scared, etc. It brings out the sympathetic protector in all of us. Lotho does have his parents fooled, doesn't he?
FrodoBaggins1982 - Lotho is practically stalking Frodo. Poor lad gets no peace, especially when I'm writing! We'll be making Frodo better soon!
Aelfgifu - Frodo is adorable on general principles, but when he's in need of a little comfort, we all line up, don't we? My hobbits are likeable? Well, MOST of them are, heh heh!
LotRseer3350 - Will Merry and Saradoc want to take Frodo back to Buckland? The answer to that question will come up in another chapter or so.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 11 - Answering the Call
~*~Early morning, Brandy Hall~*~
The sun had not yet risen at the early morning hour when the courier came dashing into the courtyard at Brandy Hall. As requested, he had left Hobbiton the previous evening just before sunset and had ridden all night at his best speed to deliver Bilbo's message to the Master of Buckland. He rang the bell and waited, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat to warm them.
A female hobbit with a broom in one hand opened the large wooden doors just a crack and peered out. "Who's there?" she asked warily.
"Messenger, ma'am," the courier said, tipping his hat politely. "I've a special urgent post for the Master, if I may."
The female hobbit opened the door and invited the messenger inside. She leaned the broom in the corner by the hearth she had just been sweeping and offered him a chair by the fire. "I'll wake him," she said, and hurried from the sitting room.
She tapped gingerly on the door of the Master's smial and waited, hoping she wouldn't catch it too harshly for disturbing Saradoc and Esmeralda at such an early hour. When she received no response, she sighed and rapped harder on the wooden door.
The door opened and Saradoc stood regarding her with bleary eyes. "Dahlia, what time is it?" he mumbled, rubbing at his forehead.
"I don't know the time, sir," she said nervously. "But there's a messenger here with urgent word for you, or so he says. I left him warming himself by the fireside."
Saradoc frowned as he struggled to full awareness. Urgent word? From whom? "I'll be there in a moment. Would you be so kind as to get the fellow something warm from the kitchens? I'm sure he would be appreciative." Dahlia nodded and hurried away to find some hot food and drink for the messenger.
The Master of Buckland emerged quietly from his family's quarters, being careful not to wake Merry and Esmeralda. He would let them sleep while he found out what was going on. The messenger sat warming his hands by the fire and Saradoc approached him quietly. "Good morning, lad. What news have you brought at this early hour?"
The messenger looked up, startled, and jumped to his feet. "A message for you, sir. Urgent delivery from Hobbiton." The courier held out Bilbo's message.
Saradoc was suddenly found himself fully awake upon hearing those words. "Thank you," he said as he accepted the message. "I've sent for something from the kitchens for you, so please make yourself comfortable," he told the courier. The courier nodded and resumed his seat as Saradoc stepped into the foyer to read the message.
A look of concern crossed his face as he scanned the page. Frodo must be ill indeed if Bilbo had felt the need to send word to Buckland. It was easy to believe that Frodo would miss Merry at such a trying time, and Saradoc could imagine how worried Bilbo must be. He folded the message back into the envelope and strode back to wake Merry and Esmie.
He reached Merry's room first, and gently shook his son to wake him.
"Wha? Um, what's going on?" Merry opened his eyes reluctantly, still more asleep than awake.
"I'm sorry to wake you so early, Merry, but we are going to Hobbiton immediately. You must rise and pack some things for the journey. A quick breakfast, and we'll be off," Saradoc told him, and Merry sat up and stared at him.
Hobbiton? Now, this instant? "What's wrong? Has something happened?" Merry regarded his father with trepidation.
"Frodo has taken ill, lad. Bilbo said that Frodo called for you, and he would like us to come to Bag End." As Saradoc finished the sentence, Merry's eyes grew large and his breathing quickened.
"Frodo! Frodo isn't going to die, is he, Da?" Near panic gripped the young hobbit, and his father reached out to comfort him.
"Now, Merry. We mustn't panic. Bilbo said nothing of Frodo's condition being so dire, but he feels your presence would be a comfort to your cousin." Merry seemed to be calmed somewhat by those words. "If we leave early and travel all day, we will be there late tonight, so let us make haste."
Merry nodded, and jumped out of bed. Despite his father's reassurances, cold fear gripped him as he thought of Frodo being so ill. He pulled his pack out of the armoire and began stuffing his clothing into it hurriedly. When he had finished, he handed it to his father.
"I've yet to wake your mother and tell her, so why don't you go on to the kitchens and tell them we need an early breakfast and a little something for the journey?" Saradoc sent Merry on his errand and turned to give the news to Esmeralda.
He considered as he walked down the corridor. Was Bilbo jumping at shadows because he lacked experience in caring for an ailing youth? Somehow that didn't seem a good possibility, since Bilbo was not one to panic on general principles. Even so, he and Merry would go to Hobbiton as requested.
~*~Late morning, Bag End~*~
Sam and his mother had returned to watch over Frodo while Bilbo slept. Sam sat at the bedside while Bell brought in tea and porridge, hoping to get Frodo to eat something.
"Mr. Frodo," Sam said quietly. "Wake up. It's time for breakfast."
Frodo groaned and opened his eyes. He shuddered under the coverlet as a chill washed over him. "I'm not very hungry," he croaked weakly.
"I know, dear," said Bell, "but you won't get well if you don't eat." She set the tray on the bedside table and helped Frodo prop himself up more firmly against the pillows. "It's just a mild porridge, love."
Bell spooned up some of the porridge and held it to Frodo's lips. He accepted it obediently, and sighed wearily. "It must be very good, but I can't taste it," he rasped glumly. He had no appetite whatsoever, but he made a valiant effort to eat as much of the porridge as he could. More of the bitter tea followed afterward, and Frodo was suddenly glad he couldn't taste things properly.
He slumped back against the pillows, shivering again. "I'm cold. Could I have another blan - " the sentence ended in a violent fit of coughing that left Frodo gasping for air and wiping his eyes. Sam leapt up to find another quilt and Bell took Frodo's hand in hers.
"Thank you, Mrs. Gamgee," Frodo said softly. "I'm so sorry to have worried Uncle Bilbo so much."
"Aye, dear, he is worried," Bell admitted. "But that's only natural. He worries because he loves you."
Groggy as Frodo was from the effects of the tea, it took a moment for Bell's words to sink in. Bilbo was worried because he loved Frodo. He had likely been by Frodo's side through the night, taking his own rest only when Bell and Sam had arrived to relieve him. Frodo felt happy and guilty all at once.
He was happy that someone loved him enough to drop everything to be so close at hand, and felt guilty because his frequent foolish accidents were causing such disruption in Bilbo's life. He wanted more than anything to get well quickly so Bilbo wouldn't be so troubled.
The tea was beginning to affect him and he felt himself drifting off, still shivering beneath the blankets.
Sam looked from Frodo to his mother. "Mum, I know you an' Mr. Bilbo said Mr. Frodo would be all right, but I'm scared." Sam told his mother fearfully. He'd seen his brothers and sisters come down with fevers and he himself had been ill on occasion, but he had never seen anyone look quite so ill as Mr. Frodo.
"He will be, in time," Bell answered. "He just needs us to watch over him and give him our love." Even though Bell had only known Frodo for a short time, she found that she cared very much for the polite, bookish tween. Frodo had been a good friend to Samwise, and she loved him all the more for it.
Sam looked down at his ailing friend. "You get well, Mr. Frodo," he whispered. "You have to. You're the best friend I've got." Tears threatened as Sam smoothed the coverlet absently. "Please, Mr. Frodo."
~*~
The afternoon was passing slowly, as Bilbo sat at Frodo's bedside, staring into space while Frodo slept. Bell had gone to tend to her own family for a while, but Sam remained as he had before. Seeing Bilbo's sad expression as the older hobbit stared away into emptiness, Sam gathered his courage and spoke.
"Mr. Bilbo, I wonder if it might cheer Mr. Frodo up to hear a story? Maybe you could read to him from one of those books." Sam looked at his toes for a moment. "I would, but I can't read," he said sadly.
Sam's voice brought Bilbo back to himself, and he regarded the young hobbit kindly. "I do remember Frodo saying something about that, lad, and I'm sorry to not have done anything about it sooner. All the commotion, you understand."
Sam nodded as Bilbo continued. "Frodo asked if I might begin teaching you as long as your Gaffer doesn't mind."
Sam's expression brightened. "I've asked him, and he says as long as I'm not getting in the way, it's all right." Sam smiled slightly and said, "Although he says he don't know just why a gardener needs to concern himself with readin' and writin' and such."
Bilbo smiled in spite of himself. "I would have expected nothing else from Hamfast," he confessed. "Your father is a very practical hobbit, Samwise. He's not likely to see the value in such things as being able to read until we show him a good use for such a skill."
He looked at Sam intently. "If we begin your lessons, you must promise to apply yourself diligently, and make good use of the time spent."
"Oh, I will, Mr. Bilbo, I promise," Sam said earnestly. "Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome, young Samwise. Now, let me see. Ah! I know just the thing." He gazed at Frodo's sleeping form for a moment. "I've a book of tales in my study that I think would suit the fancy of two adventurous lads. I'll fetch it, and when Frodo wakes again, we shall enjoy a story together."
Bilbo rose and left the room, intent upon finding the book, and Sam seated himself at the foot of the bed to wait.
~*~ Evening, Hobbiton~*~
Ted Sandyman swirled the last of his ale in his tankard for a moment. He looked across the table at Lotho and spoke quietly. "That cousin of yours has taken ill, I heard."
"Serves him right for getting in the way of the proper order of things," Lotho said sullenly. He had been trying to think of a way around Bilbo's promised vigilance and was coming up blank. Three of the six months were gone, and he had little time to get the Bucklander to change his mind about staying.
"What if he don't get better, Lotho?" Ted was saying, a grim expression on his face. "What if they find out you helped sink him in that pond?"
"They're not going to find out," Lotho shot back. "Unless of course, you tell them." Threat was implicit in the tween's gaze. "You're not planning to, are you Ted?"
Ted swallowed hard. "Well, no, I don't plan to. Ain't my business, after all."
Lotho nodded, satisfied. "Assuming he does get better, I've got less than three months to get him to leave. And Bilbo suspects something, too. He's not likely to let me get very near to Frodo any time soon."
"He ain't watchin' over him all the time, is he?" Ted reasoned, downing the last of his ale.
"Well, no, he can't be. It wouldn't be possible." Lotho drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. "Hints may not be working, Ted. If things keep going as they are, I'm just going to have to have a talk with my cousin."
"A talk? But old Bilbo said - "
"Dash what the old fool said!" Lotho spat vehemently. "I'll find a place where I can get the Bucklander alone for a few minutes, and I'll convince him." Until then, Lotho would have to bide his time and be very subtle.
"How are you going to do that?" Ted asked, genuinely curious.
Lotho looked across the table at his companion slyly. "Oh, I'll think of something. Trust me. I'll persuade him."
Ted glanced nervously from his ale back to Lotho. Just what sort of 'persuasion' did Lotho have in mind, and how could he manage it if he wasn't able to get anywhere near Frodo? "How you gonna get Frodo to talk to you after all this? Bilbo must've warned him and all - "
"Don't remind me." Lotho took a draught of his ale. "I'll back off for a while and let the little creep recover. I'll leave Frodo alone for a bit until he drops his guard."
"How can you be so sure he will?" Ted questioned.
"Because Frodo is one of those kind - hearted types who wants to see the best in everyone," Lotho explained. "He has such a complete blind love and trust for Bilbo and he just can't conceive of any member of his family bearing him ill will. He's too innocent." Lotho's eyes narrowed. "I know he'll drop his guard because he wants us to be friends. So, we'll be friends." Sarcasm was evident in the tween's speech, and an ugly gleam of malice and frustration shone in his eyes.
~*~To be continued~*~
Shirebound - Frodo will get more comfort and love in this chapter. As to keeping Lotho away from him, I'm trying, but that nasty lad is quite persistent.
Krista2 - Frodo is still quite ill. We'll get him on the mend soon, but not before we reunite him with Merry for a bit! Lotho is still lurking about and will be causing more hate and discontent eventually.
Amelia Rose - Lobelia has a bad case of "not my child." It happens all too often that a parent will be blind to what a total monster his or her child really is. Merry can indeed brighten someone's day, and I'm going to let him do just that.
Midgette - Would you believe I've never read any Harry Potter books? I've seen the movies though. The Dursleys and the Sackville - Bagginses do have one thing in common, and that's their doting, delusional attitudes regarding their bratty kids.
Endymion2 - TLC is a good thing, and more is coming. You'll find out soon what Merry and Saradoc think about things. Otho is pretty much overshadowed by his family. He finds it easier to just retreat from Lobelia when she's ranting, and to just pretend his son is not a complete jerk. Remember Nils and Harriet Olson from "Little House on the Prairie?" That's similar to the Otho and Lobelia relationship in this fic.
Bookworm2000 - Nasty Sackville - Bagginses! Gandalf saying that Lobelia's expression could curdle milk came to my mind also as I was writing. I wanted her to be just as sour as possible!
CuriousCat - Lotho is definitely cultivating his devious nature. He does whatever it takes to achieve his ends. If he has to make nice for a while to throw Bilbo off, he will. Lotho will continue to be somewhat conflicted between the small bit of morality he has and his greed.
Camellia Gamgee - Took - You want Merry and Saradoc? You got 'em!
Tavion - Why do we all like the hobbit angst? I think it's just that Frodo is so darn cute when he's scared, etc. It brings out the sympathetic protector in all of us. Lotho does have his parents fooled, doesn't he?
FrodoBaggins1982 - Lotho is practically stalking Frodo. Poor lad gets no peace, especially when I'm writing! We'll be making Frodo better soon!
Aelfgifu - Frodo is adorable on general principles, but when he's in need of a little comfort, we all line up, don't we? My hobbits are likeable? Well, MOST of them are, heh heh!
LotRseer3350 - Will Merry and Saradoc want to take Frodo back to Buckland? The answer to that question will come up in another chapter or so.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 11 - Answering the Call
~*~Early morning, Brandy Hall~*~
The sun had not yet risen at the early morning hour when the courier came dashing into the courtyard at Brandy Hall. As requested, he had left Hobbiton the previous evening just before sunset and had ridden all night at his best speed to deliver Bilbo's message to the Master of Buckland. He rang the bell and waited, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat to warm them.
A female hobbit with a broom in one hand opened the large wooden doors just a crack and peered out. "Who's there?" she asked warily.
"Messenger, ma'am," the courier said, tipping his hat politely. "I've a special urgent post for the Master, if I may."
The female hobbit opened the door and invited the messenger inside. She leaned the broom in the corner by the hearth she had just been sweeping and offered him a chair by the fire. "I'll wake him," she said, and hurried from the sitting room.
She tapped gingerly on the door of the Master's smial and waited, hoping she wouldn't catch it too harshly for disturbing Saradoc and Esmeralda at such an early hour. When she received no response, she sighed and rapped harder on the wooden door.
The door opened and Saradoc stood regarding her with bleary eyes. "Dahlia, what time is it?" he mumbled, rubbing at his forehead.
"I don't know the time, sir," she said nervously. "But there's a messenger here with urgent word for you, or so he says. I left him warming himself by the fireside."
Saradoc frowned as he struggled to full awareness. Urgent word? From whom? "I'll be there in a moment. Would you be so kind as to get the fellow something warm from the kitchens? I'm sure he would be appreciative." Dahlia nodded and hurried away to find some hot food and drink for the messenger.
The Master of Buckland emerged quietly from his family's quarters, being careful not to wake Merry and Esmeralda. He would let them sleep while he found out what was going on. The messenger sat warming his hands by the fire and Saradoc approached him quietly. "Good morning, lad. What news have you brought at this early hour?"
The messenger looked up, startled, and jumped to his feet. "A message for you, sir. Urgent delivery from Hobbiton." The courier held out Bilbo's message.
Saradoc was suddenly found himself fully awake upon hearing those words. "Thank you," he said as he accepted the message. "I've sent for something from the kitchens for you, so please make yourself comfortable," he told the courier. The courier nodded and resumed his seat as Saradoc stepped into the foyer to read the message.
A look of concern crossed his face as he scanned the page. Frodo must be ill indeed if Bilbo had felt the need to send word to Buckland. It was easy to believe that Frodo would miss Merry at such a trying time, and Saradoc could imagine how worried Bilbo must be. He folded the message back into the envelope and strode back to wake Merry and Esmie.
He reached Merry's room first, and gently shook his son to wake him.
"Wha? Um, what's going on?" Merry opened his eyes reluctantly, still more asleep than awake.
"I'm sorry to wake you so early, Merry, but we are going to Hobbiton immediately. You must rise and pack some things for the journey. A quick breakfast, and we'll be off," Saradoc told him, and Merry sat up and stared at him.
Hobbiton? Now, this instant? "What's wrong? Has something happened?" Merry regarded his father with trepidation.
"Frodo has taken ill, lad. Bilbo said that Frodo called for you, and he would like us to come to Bag End." As Saradoc finished the sentence, Merry's eyes grew large and his breathing quickened.
"Frodo! Frodo isn't going to die, is he, Da?" Near panic gripped the young hobbit, and his father reached out to comfort him.
"Now, Merry. We mustn't panic. Bilbo said nothing of Frodo's condition being so dire, but he feels your presence would be a comfort to your cousin." Merry seemed to be calmed somewhat by those words. "If we leave early and travel all day, we will be there late tonight, so let us make haste."
Merry nodded, and jumped out of bed. Despite his father's reassurances, cold fear gripped him as he thought of Frodo being so ill. He pulled his pack out of the armoire and began stuffing his clothing into it hurriedly. When he had finished, he handed it to his father.
"I've yet to wake your mother and tell her, so why don't you go on to the kitchens and tell them we need an early breakfast and a little something for the journey?" Saradoc sent Merry on his errand and turned to give the news to Esmeralda.
He considered as he walked down the corridor. Was Bilbo jumping at shadows because he lacked experience in caring for an ailing youth? Somehow that didn't seem a good possibility, since Bilbo was not one to panic on general principles. Even so, he and Merry would go to Hobbiton as requested.
~*~Late morning, Bag End~*~
Sam and his mother had returned to watch over Frodo while Bilbo slept. Sam sat at the bedside while Bell brought in tea and porridge, hoping to get Frodo to eat something.
"Mr. Frodo," Sam said quietly. "Wake up. It's time for breakfast."
Frodo groaned and opened his eyes. He shuddered under the coverlet as a chill washed over him. "I'm not very hungry," he croaked weakly.
"I know, dear," said Bell, "but you won't get well if you don't eat." She set the tray on the bedside table and helped Frodo prop himself up more firmly against the pillows. "It's just a mild porridge, love."
Bell spooned up some of the porridge and held it to Frodo's lips. He accepted it obediently, and sighed wearily. "It must be very good, but I can't taste it," he rasped glumly. He had no appetite whatsoever, but he made a valiant effort to eat as much of the porridge as he could. More of the bitter tea followed afterward, and Frodo was suddenly glad he couldn't taste things properly.
He slumped back against the pillows, shivering again. "I'm cold. Could I have another blan - " the sentence ended in a violent fit of coughing that left Frodo gasping for air and wiping his eyes. Sam leapt up to find another quilt and Bell took Frodo's hand in hers.
"Thank you, Mrs. Gamgee," Frodo said softly. "I'm so sorry to have worried Uncle Bilbo so much."
"Aye, dear, he is worried," Bell admitted. "But that's only natural. He worries because he loves you."
Groggy as Frodo was from the effects of the tea, it took a moment for Bell's words to sink in. Bilbo was worried because he loved Frodo. He had likely been by Frodo's side through the night, taking his own rest only when Bell and Sam had arrived to relieve him. Frodo felt happy and guilty all at once.
He was happy that someone loved him enough to drop everything to be so close at hand, and felt guilty because his frequent foolish accidents were causing such disruption in Bilbo's life. He wanted more than anything to get well quickly so Bilbo wouldn't be so troubled.
The tea was beginning to affect him and he felt himself drifting off, still shivering beneath the blankets.
Sam looked from Frodo to his mother. "Mum, I know you an' Mr. Bilbo said Mr. Frodo would be all right, but I'm scared." Sam told his mother fearfully. He'd seen his brothers and sisters come down with fevers and he himself had been ill on occasion, but he had never seen anyone look quite so ill as Mr. Frodo.
"He will be, in time," Bell answered. "He just needs us to watch over him and give him our love." Even though Bell had only known Frodo for a short time, she found that she cared very much for the polite, bookish tween. Frodo had been a good friend to Samwise, and she loved him all the more for it.
Sam looked down at his ailing friend. "You get well, Mr. Frodo," he whispered. "You have to. You're the best friend I've got." Tears threatened as Sam smoothed the coverlet absently. "Please, Mr. Frodo."
~*~
The afternoon was passing slowly, as Bilbo sat at Frodo's bedside, staring into space while Frodo slept. Bell had gone to tend to her own family for a while, but Sam remained as he had before. Seeing Bilbo's sad expression as the older hobbit stared away into emptiness, Sam gathered his courage and spoke.
"Mr. Bilbo, I wonder if it might cheer Mr. Frodo up to hear a story? Maybe you could read to him from one of those books." Sam looked at his toes for a moment. "I would, but I can't read," he said sadly.
Sam's voice brought Bilbo back to himself, and he regarded the young hobbit kindly. "I do remember Frodo saying something about that, lad, and I'm sorry to not have done anything about it sooner. All the commotion, you understand."
Sam nodded as Bilbo continued. "Frodo asked if I might begin teaching you as long as your Gaffer doesn't mind."
Sam's expression brightened. "I've asked him, and he says as long as I'm not getting in the way, it's all right." Sam smiled slightly and said, "Although he says he don't know just why a gardener needs to concern himself with readin' and writin' and such."
Bilbo smiled in spite of himself. "I would have expected nothing else from Hamfast," he confessed. "Your father is a very practical hobbit, Samwise. He's not likely to see the value in such things as being able to read until we show him a good use for such a skill."
He looked at Sam intently. "If we begin your lessons, you must promise to apply yourself diligently, and make good use of the time spent."
"Oh, I will, Mr. Bilbo, I promise," Sam said earnestly. "Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome, young Samwise. Now, let me see. Ah! I know just the thing." He gazed at Frodo's sleeping form for a moment. "I've a book of tales in my study that I think would suit the fancy of two adventurous lads. I'll fetch it, and when Frodo wakes again, we shall enjoy a story together."
Bilbo rose and left the room, intent upon finding the book, and Sam seated himself at the foot of the bed to wait.
~*~ Evening, Hobbiton~*~
Ted Sandyman swirled the last of his ale in his tankard for a moment. He looked across the table at Lotho and spoke quietly. "That cousin of yours has taken ill, I heard."
"Serves him right for getting in the way of the proper order of things," Lotho said sullenly. He had been trying to think of a way around Bilbo's promised vigilance and was coming up blank. Three of the six months were gone, and he had little time to get the Bucklander to change his mind about staying.
"What if he don't get better, Lotho?" Ted was saying, a grim expression on his face. "What if they find out you helped sink him in that pond?"
"They're not going to find out," Lotho shot back. "Unless of course, you tell them." Threat was implicit in the tween's gaze. "You're not planning to, are you Ted?"
Ted swallowed hard. "Well, no, I don't plan to. Ain't my business, after all."
Lotho nodded, satisfied. "Assuming he does get better, I've got less than three months to get him to leave. And Bilbo suspects something, too. He's not likely to let me get very near to Frodo any time soon."
"He ain't watchin' over him all the time, is he?" Ted reasoned, downing the last of his ale.
"Well, no, he can't be. It wouldn't be possible." Lotho drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. "Hints may not be working, Ted. If things keep going as they are, I'm just going to have to have a talk with my cousin."
"A talk? But old Bilbo said - "
"Dash what the old fool said!" Lotho spat vehemently. "I'll find a place where I can get the Bucklander alone for a few minutes, and I'll convince him." Until then, Lotho would have to bide his time and be very subtle.
"How are you going to do that?" Ted asked, genuinely curious.
Lotho looked across the table at his companion slyly. "Oh, I'll think of something. Trust me. I'll persuade him."
Ted glanced nervously from his ale back to Lotho. Just what sort of 'persuasion' did Lotho have in mind, and how could he manage it if he wasn't able to get anywhere near Frodo? "How you gonna get Frodo to talk to you after all this? Bilbo must've warned him and all - "
"Don't remind me." Lotho took a draught of his ale. "I'll back off for a while and let the little creep recover. I'll leave Frodo alone for a bit until he drops his guard."
"How can you be so sure he will?" Ted questioned.
"Because Frodo is one of those kind - hearted types who wants to see the best in everyone," Lotho explained. "He has such a complete blind love and trust for Bilbo and he just can't conceive of any member of his family bearing him ill will. He's too innocent." Lotho's eyes narrowed. "I know he'll drop his guard because he wants us to be friends. So, we'll be friends." Sarcasm was evident in the tween's speech, and an ugly gleam of malice and frustration shone in his eyes.
~*~To be continued~*~