Chapter Seven---Old Stories
It was late at night when Frodo and Bilbo finally arrived at Brandy Hall. The sky was like dark blue velvet set with tiny diamond stars. Bilbo wished Frodo were awake to see it, but didn't want to disturb the lad's sleep. He didn't have to worry however, because at that moment Frodo woke up, a heap of blankets and dark rumpled curls.
Yawning, he smiled at his uncle. "Are we here already?" Bilbo laughed and nodded, and the two Bagginses looked up at the rustic yet imposing structure that was Brandy Hall.
"You know, Uncle Bilbo," said Frodo sleepily, "It seems like so long ago I was living here...But now I'm at Bag End, with you, and, I'm so much happier. It's so much quieter. Bilbo couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Indeed it is, and I'm glad. Now, come along, my lad. We'll just get you to your room, and you can see your cousins tomorrow." Frodo yawned again, and nodded.
The two hobbits made their way to Brandy Hall's large front door. Turning the knob, Bilbo opened it, and to his surprise, the plump freckled face of Esmerelda Brandybuck stared back at him. Both Hobbits split into huge smiles, and they embraced.
"I'm surprised you made it here this early!" Esme exclaimed, "I was certain you wouldn't be here till tomorrow, but there you are." She quickly took a few bags form Bilbo, and he thanked her. Frodo hugged Esme weakly around the waist, and she gave him a gentle kiss.
"How are you feeling, Frodo-love?" She asked warmly. Frodo shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his nose. Esme gave Bilbo a meaningful look, and he simply shook his head, to indicate that things hadn't gotten any better. Esme sighed, but quickly was her brisk self again.
"All right, dear, you'll be sharing the guestroom with your Uncle Bilbo. Some of your things are still in your old room; you can get them tomorrow morning." Soon they threesome reached the guestroom, and Esme walked over to Frodo while Bilbo unpacked their belongings.
"We'll get everything sorted out tomorrow, love. For now you just get your rest. I've made sure you have plenty of fresh hankies, and I took the liberty of bringing you that ratty green blanket from the library you seemed to like so much. It's yours as long as you and Bilbo are here." Frodo smiled at Esme, who gave him a kiss. "Goodnight, my dear."
"Goodnight Auntie Esme," Frodo said sleepily. She waved, and soon disappeared down the long hallway.
Once Frodo was ready for bed, Bilbo tucked him in and got ready to sleep himself. The guestroom was extremely large and roomy; even though it had two beds, each hobbit had his own space as big as a normal sized room. Regardless, however, Frodo was glad to have his uncle nearby. He had always felt lonely in Brandy Hall, before he left. Knowing Bilbo was right down the hall in Bag End, and now here, was a great comfort.
He sighed softly as his head hit the fluffy feather pillow and very soon was asleep, the only sound in the large bedroom his quiet snoring.
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The next morning, Frodo was out of bed before anyone else, and he quietly changed and tiptoed out so as not to wake his sleeping uncle.
After going into the kitchen and discovering breakfast was not yet ready, he decided to venture outside. Unfortunately, he had a nagging feeling it was not the best idea, considering why he was back at Brandy Hall in the first place.
Once he was outside, however, Frodo realized he could breathe easier than he had in months. Inhaling deeply, he savored the clear marsh air, as a soft breeze tickled his pale face. Sighing happily, he watched the pink and orange traces of sunrise disappear from the morning sky.
When he finally entered the Hall again, he found it bustling with its usual activity. Hurrying to the breakfast tables, he quickly spotted Bilbo's curly, silver head. He walked over, and sat down, looking for other familiar faces.
"Good morning, my lad," Bilbo said. "Did you sleep well?" Frodo nodded, smiling.
"I went outside to watch the sunrise, this morning, and I felt so much better," he said quietly. Bilbo looked delighted, and ruffled his hair. "I'm so glad of that, my lad."
Midway into breakfast, Frodo spotted a blur of gold curls and yellow breeches running towards him. Before he could brace himself, he had been tackled by a tiny Hobbit lad, who hugged him furiously.
"Cousin Frodo! Cousin Frodo! You're back! Are you staying this time? And Cousin Bilbo is here too! Why are you here? Mum and Da didn't tell me you were coming! Tell me about Hobbiton! I bet you don't like it as much as Buckland," as Merry babbled, while Frodo and Bilbo stifled giggles.
"Slow down, Merry-lad!" Frodo laughed. "I'm so happy to see you again, as well," he said, giving his bouncing cousin a kiss on the head. "To answer your questions...I'm afraid to say Bilbo and I are not staying longer than a few months." Merry frowned a bit at his statement. "We're here because of that silly nose of mine," Frodo sighed. Merry, knowing what he meant, laughed. "Poor sneezy Frodo," he said, tweaking the cause of his cousin's affliction. "And I must admit, I love living at Bag End with Cousin Bilbo, but I do miss everyone here loads." Merry smiled.
"I bet you miss me the most." Frodo chuckled. "You have me there."
"Will you tell me about Hobbiton? Do you have any new friends?"
Merry asked eagerly, munching on a corn muffin slathered in butter, crumbs scattered across his rosy, round face.
"I do. And I promise I'll tell you all about everything today, but both of us must eat breakfast now!" Frodo said in a mock-serious tone. Merry, eager to hear stories, began to shove his breakfast down. Frodo and Bilbo smiled at each other, and Bilbo winked.
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Later that day, Frodo bid Bilbo goodbye and took Merry for a walk around the smial. He had seen and greeted so many cousins, aunts, and uncles that his head was spinning. He was beginning to seriously consider how lucky he was to live at Bag End as opposed to Brandy Hall. "The precious quiet!" He laughed to himself.
As the two lads continued walking down the long, wooden halls, the reached a familiar room. The door was open, and Frodo and Merry peeked inside, grinning from ear to ear. At the highly polished maple desk inside the room sat a middle-aged hobbit with golden, messy curls, much like Merry's. He scribbled furiously on what looked like an important document, stopping every once and a while to take a sip of tea from a mug next to him. But soon the silence was broken, as the two lads ran into the small study.
"Da! Da!" Merry cried, as the older hobbit, Merry's father; Saradoc Brandybuck, opened his arms to pick up his little lad, and spun him around the room. Merry laughed happily, as Saradoc gently touched him to the ground. "Hullo, Merry-love. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to play with you today. I promise, tomorrow you and I will do something special together, all right?" Merry nodded eagerly, and sat down on his Da's lap. Frodo still stood by the door, feeling suddenly shy. He didn't want to intrude on Merry and his Da, and almost felt like he didn't belong. Saradoc noticed this, and tried to put the lad at ease.
"Well, if it isn't my old nephew, Frodo!" He said, offering the lad a hug, which he gladly accepted. "I'm glad you're here again, lad, despite the conditions. We've all missed you very much." Frodo smiled.
"I've missed you too, Uncle Saradoc. And Merry, and Auntie Esme. I didn't even realize how much." Saradoc beamed, ruffling his nephew's hair.
"I was wondering," he continued, as Saradoc straightened Merry's drooping suspenders, "would it be alright if Merry and I went down to the Brandywine and stayed for a bit before it's time for supper?
"I don't see why not. You could use a bit of fresh air, my lad. You're much too pale for a Hobbit!" Frodo laughed, and blushed, which only served to accent his chalk white skin.
After bidding Saradoc farewell, the two boys headed to the banks of the Brandywine on foot. They didn't bring much more than a book for Frodo, and a small cake snuck out of the kitchen to tide Merry over until supper. Soon they were set up comfortably under a large weeping willow, swaying gently in the breeze. Sighing contentedly, the sat in a blissful silence for a while (quite a feat for the younger lad), while simply enjoying each other's company.
Being near the Brandywine was always a bittersweet experience for Frodo. Although the area held many of his treasured childhood memories, it also held the painful thought of his parents drowning. Suddenly, he remembered, the last time he had sat by the river with Merry, he had been sharing the news of his impending adoption. He now realized good memories could still come from this special place, and felt a bit heartened, as he enjoyed the lost sensation of inhaling the spring air, smiling faintly.
To the surprise of both Merry and Frodo, Bilbo appeared as the sun began to go down, joining the cousins under their willowy refuge. They lazily and instinctively curled up against the older hobbit, who smiled down on them.
"Tell us a story, Bilbo," Merry said. Bilbo chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard just about every one of my stories, Merry-lad." Merry adamantly shook his golden head.
"I wouldn't mind hearing an old one, just now," he declared.
"Neither would I, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo agreed, leaning his head on Bilbo's shoulder, as he gazed at the blue expanse of river beyond.
"Then an old story it is then. Which would you like to hear, lads?" Said Bilbo, who enjoyed telling his stories as much as his two favorite lads loved hearing them.
"It's Frodo's choice," Merry said diplomatically. His older cousin smiled. "All right, then. I choose...hmm...how about a story of your adventure? When Gandalf came to Bag End for the first time. I'd love to meet him, someday." Merry nodded in agreement.
"And I know both of you will. Now, let's see. I was sitting outside of Bag End, minding my own business, when suddenly a saw a tall figure approaching..."
And so, like the start of a familiar and well-loved story, Frodo's peaceful spring at Buckland had begun.
It was late at night when Frodo and Bilbo finally arrived at Brandy Hall. The sky was like dark blue velvet set with tiny diamond stars. Bilbo wished Frodo were awake to see it, but didn't want to disturb the lad's sleep. He didn't have to worry however, because at that moment Frodo woke up, a heap of blankets and dark rumpled curls.
Yawning, he smiled at his uncle. "Are we here already?" Bilbo laughed and nodded, and the two Bagginses looked up at the rustic yet imposing structure that was Brandy Hall.
"You know, Uncle Bilbo," said Frodo sleepily, "It seems like so long ago I was living here...But now I'm at Bag End, with you, and, I'm so much happier. It's so much quieter. Bilbo couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Indeed it is, and I'm glad. Now, come along, my lad. We'll just get you to your room, and you can see your cousins tomorrow." Frodo yawned again, and nodded.
The two hobbits made their way to Brandy Hall's large front door. Turning the knob, Bilbo opened it, and to his surprise, the plump freckled face of Esmerelda Brandybuck stared back at him. Both Hobbits split into huge smiles, and they embraced.
"I'm surprised you made it here this early!" Esme exclaimed, "I was certain you wouldn't be here till tomorrow, but there you are." She quickly took a few bags form Bilbo, and he thanked her. Frodo hugged Esme weakly around the waist, and she gave him a gentle kiss.
"How are you feeling, Frodo-love?" She asked warmly. Frodo shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his nose. Esme gave Bilbo a meaningful look, and he simply shook his head, to indicate that things hadn't gotten any better. Esme sighed, but quickly was her brisk self again.
"All right, dear, you'll be sharing the guestroom with your Uncle Bilbo. Some of your things are still in your old room; you can get them tomorrow morning." Soon they threesome reached the guestroom, and Esme walked over to Frodo while Bilbo unpacked their belongings.
"We'll get everything sorted out tomorrow, love. For now you just get your rest. I've made sure you have plenty of fresh hankies, and I took the liberty of bringing you that ratty green blanket from the library you seemed to like so much. It's yours as long as you and Bilbo are here." Frodo smiled at Esme, who gave him a kiss. "Goodnight, my dear."
"Goodnight Auntie Esme," Frodo said sleepily. She waved, and soon disappeared down the long hallway.
Once Frodo was ready for bed, Bilbo tucked him in and got ready to sleep himself. The guestroom was extremely large and roomy; even though it had two beds, each hobbit had his own space as big as a normal sized room. Regardless, however, Frodo was glad to have his uncle nearby. He had always felt lonely in Brandy Hall, before he left. Knowing Bilbo was right down the hall in Bag End, and now here, was a great comfort.
He sighed softly as his head hit the fluffy feather pillow and very soon was asleep, the only sound in the large bedroom his quiet snoring.
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The next morning, Frodo was out of bed before anyone else, and he quietly changed and tiptoed out so as not to wake his sleeping uncle.
After going into the kitchen and discovering breakfast was not yet ready, he decided to venture outside. Unfortunately, he had a nagging feeling it was not the best idea, considering why he was back at Brandy Hall in the first place.
Once he was outside, however, Frodo realized he could breathe easier than he had in months. Inhaling deeply, he savored the clear marsh air, as a soft breeze tickled his pale face. Sighing happily, he watched the pink and orange traces of sunrise disappear from the morning sky.
When he finally entered the Hall again, he found it bustling with its usual activity. Hurrying to the breakfast tables, he quickly spotted Bilbo's curly, silver head. He walked over, and sat down, looking for other familiar faces.
"Good morning, my lad," Bilbo said. "Did you sleep well?" Frodo nodded, smiling.
"I went outside to watch the sunrise, this morning, and I felt so much better," he said quietly. Bilbo looked delighted, and ruffled his hair. "I'm so glad of that, my lad."
Midway into breakfast, Frodo spotted a blur of gold curls and yellow breeches running towards him. Before he could brace himself, he had been tackled by a tiny Hobbit lad, who hugged him furiously.
"Cousin Frodo! Cousin Frodo! You're back! Are you staying this time? And Cousin Bilbo is here too! Why are you here? Mum and Da didn't tell me you were coming! Tell me about Hobbiton! I bet you don't like it as much as Buckland," as Merry babbled, while Frodo and Bilbo stifled giggles.
"Slow down, Merry-lad!" Frodo laughed. "I'm so happy to see you again, as well," he said, giving his bouncing cousin a kiss on the head. "To answer your questions...I'm afraid to say Bilbo and I are not staying longer than a few months." Merry frowned a bit at his statement. "We're here because of that silly nose of mine," Frodo sighed. Merry, knowing what he meant, laughed. "Poor sneezy Frodo," he said, tweaking the cause of his cousin's affliction. "And I must admit, I love living at Bag End with Cousin Bilbo, but I do miss everyone here loads." Merry smiled.
"I bet you miss me the most." Frodo chuckled. "You have me there."
"Will you tell me about Hobbiton? Do you have any new friends?"
Merry asked eagerly, munching on a corn muffin slathered in butter, crumbs scattered across his rosy, round face.
"I do. And I promise I'll tell you all about everything today, but both of us must eat breakfast now!" Frodo said in a mock-serious tone. Merry, eager to hear stories, began to shove his breakfast down. Frodo and Bilbo smiled at each other, and Bilbo winked.
*********************************************************
Later that day, Frodo bid Bilbo goodbye and took Merry for a walk around the smial. He had seen and greeted so many cousins, aunts, and uncles that his head was spinning. He was beginning to seriously consider how lucky he was to live at Bag End as opposed to Brandy Hall. "The precious quiet!" He laughed to himself.
As the two lads continued walking down the long, wooden halls, the reached a familiar room. The door was open, and Frodo and Merry peeked inside, grinning from ear to ear. At the highly polished maple desk inside the room sat a middle-aged hobbit with golden, messy curls, much like Merry's. He scribbled furiously on what looked like an important document, stopping every once and a while to take a sip of tea from a mug next to him. But soon the silence was broken, as the two lads ran into the small study.
"Da! Da!" Merry cried, as the older hobbit, Merry's father; Saradoc Brandybuck, opened his arms to pick up his little lad, and spun him around the room. Merry laughed happily, as Saradoc gently touched him to the ground. "Hullo, Merry-love. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to play with you today. I promise, tomorrow you and I will do something special together, all right?" Merry nodded eagerly, and sat down on his Da's lap. Frodo still stood by the door, feeling suddenly shy. He didn't want to intrude on Merry and his Da, and almost felt like he didn't belong. Saradoc noticed this, and tried to put the lad at ease.
"Well, if it isn't my old nephew, Frodo!" He said, offering the lad a hug, which he gladly accepted. "I'm glad you're here again, lad, despite the conditions. We've all missed you very much." Frodo smiled.
"I've missed you too, Uncle Saradoc. And Merry, and Auntie Esme. I didn't even realize how much." Saradoc beamed, ruffling his nephew's hair.
"I was wondering," he continued, as Saradoc straightened Merry's drooping suspenders, "would it be alright if Merry and I went down to the Brandywine and stayed for a bit before it's time for supper?
"I don't see why not. You could use a bit of fresh air, my lad. You're much too pale for a Hobbit!" Frodo laughed, and blushed, which only served to accent his chalk white skin.
After bidding Saradoc farewell, the two boys headed to the banks of the Brandywine on foot. They didn't bring much more than a book for Frodo, and a small cake snuck out of the kitchen to tide Merry over until supper. Soon they were set up comfortably under a large weeping willow, swaying gently in the breeze. Sighing contentedly, the sat in a blissful silence for a while (quite a feat for the younger lad), while simply enjoying each other's company.
Being near the Brandywine was always a bittersweet experience for Frodo. Although the area held many of his treasured childhood memories, it also held the painful thought of his parents drowning. Suddenly, he remembered, the last time he had sat by the river with Merry, he had been sharing the news of his impending adoption. He now realized good memories could still come from this special place, and felt a bit heartened, as he enjoyed the lost sensation of inhaling the spring air, smiling faintly.
To the surprise of both Merry and Frodo, Bilbo appeared as the sun began to go down, joining the cousins under their willowy refuge. They lazily and instinctively curled up against the older hobbit, who smiled down on them.
"Tell us a story, Bilbo," Merry said. Bilbo chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard just about every one of my stories, Merry-lad." Merry adamantly shook his golden head.
"I wouldn't mind hearing an old one, just now," he declared.
"Neither would I, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo agreed, leaning his head on Bilbo's shoulder, as he gazed at the blue expanse of river beyond.
"Then an old story it is then. Which would you like to hear, lads?" Said Bilbo, who enjoyed telling his stories as much as his two favorite lads loved hearing them.
"It's Frodo's choice," Merry said diplomatically. His older cousin smiled. "All right, then. I choose...hmm...how about a story of your adventure? When Gandalf came to Bag End for the first time. I'd love to meet him, someday." Merry nodded in agreement.
"And I know both of you will. Now, let's see. I was sitting outside of Bag End, minding my own business, when suddenly a saw a tall figure approaching..."
And so, like the start of a familiar and well-loved story, Frodo's peaceful spring at Buckland had begun.