Mistress-Samwise: *runs up breathless* Huff… Puff… I've got a new chapter! I've got a new chapter! No time to say much; I wanted to post this chapter before 12:00 AM on Nov. eighth. And, as it turns out, I'm *not* in as much trouble as I though I was going to be. My mum's expectations of my grades were wrong, and she is actually pleased with a few of them. Except for biology and, get this, English. English! Go figure.

Okay, I gotta shut up now. *zips lips*

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Frodo walked back up to Bag End. He twisted the shining gold doorknob and the door crept open. Frodo chuckled.

"Silly old man…"

Frodo drifted down the halls, searching for evidence of his cousin's presence. Bilbo was nowhere to be found; disappearing completely was a typical Baggins family trait. So Frodo found the opportunity perfect to slink back to his room. Upon doing so, he discovered on his desk a dark lacquered wood box a little over a foot long. Now curious, he opened it up to reveal a simple cherry pipe with a velvet bag containing steel and flint. Stuck to the inside lid was a card covered with Bilbo's spidery handwriting. It read:

"Happy birthday and welcome to Bag End. –Bilbo"

Frodo carefully picked up the pipe and examined it.  Even though it was simple, it was well built and fire hardened so it would never catch aflame. He slipped the flint out of its pouch and tumbled it around in his hand.

"If only I had some weed…"

He figured that he wouldn't want to push his luck, so he placed the flint and pipe back. Maybe he could buy some later…

"Oh no!" Frodo cried all of a sudden. "I left all my money at Brandy Hall!"

Frodo kept all of his money in a secret hiding place under the floorboards, but since his move was so sudden, he forgot all about it. Luckily, nobody, or, at least, he thought nobody knew where it was.

"How could I be so stupid?" he yelled at himself. "Merry better not have gotten into it, or I'll shake it out of him!"

Frodo was not prone to spontaneous spending of his money, so he had accumulated quite a bit. If his younger cousin ever broke into it, havoc and mayhem would shortly ensue.

"I must get to it as soon as possible!" Frodo resolved. He thought of going over there himself, being old enough and all, but he quickly realized how unkeen Bilbo would be all about the matter. But until then, he had to devise a way to build up his cash flow again.

"Most likely, Bilbo won't just give me the money," Frodo pointed out to himself as he zigzagged through the hallways in search of his older cousin. He groaned. "Knowing him, I'll probably have to work for all of it, and no easy work at that. Bah!"

But money was always a nice thing to have, especially if you got it from a particularly rich relative who considered you one of his favorites. Being a tweenager was a rather costly affair, and Frodo really needed a sponsor.

Bilbo had been in the cellars checking the food stores when Frodo approached him.

"Hello, Frodo," Bilbo said cheerfully. "Have you seen the present I left you?"

Frodo nodded.

"Yes," he replied. "And it's about that. You see, I was going to go buy some weed for my new pipe, but it turns out I left all my money at Brandy Hall."

Bilbo just sort of stared at Frodo, and then returned to his work.

"Anyways," Frodo continued. "I thought that maybe I- I mean we… I thought that maybe we can… establish some sort of… system of allowance…?"

Bilbo turned around, smirking.

"Is that so?" the older hobbit stated coolly. "You do realize that you won't be getting any money by just sitting around all day?"

Frodo nodded.

"I suppose I could use some help," Bilbo said thoughtfully. "Starting tomorrow, we'll initiate this 'system' of yours, and depending on how well you do, there just might be some money in it for you."

Frodo smiled at the idea of money and then left Bilbo to his own devices.

"Tweenagers…" Bilbo chuckled to himself. "If he thinks he's getting off easy, he's wrong."

That would certainly prove itself, for the next day, Frodo awoke to the frantic pounding on the door by Bilbo.

"Wake up, Frodo-lad!" he cried from behind the door. "If you don't get up, you won't be able to do any of your chores!"

Frodo, half-awake, groaned and rolled over in his bed.

"Mleh."

"Seriously, Frodo," Bilbo stated. "If you don't get up right now, you can forget about any allowance whatsoever."

With that, Frodo snapped himself up.

"Coming, Bilbo," Frodo said, trying to sound as lively as possible. After dressing and a quick breakfast, he was ushered outside. It was morning; not too late, but not too early. While he was assigned to tie a line between two posts, Bilbo went back inside to fetch something. Frodo waited around, somewhat relieved that his tasks so far where not as hard as he thought. It wasn't long before Bilbo returned, dragging the hearthrug behind him.

"First things first," he stated, straining. "I need you to beat this with this." He pulled a rug beater from out of his pocket and handed it to Frodo. The hobbitlad stared at the wooden rod and then at Bilbo.

"It's actually quite simple," Bilbo continued, brushing himself off. "You just put the rug onto the line (and you made sure you tied it tight, right?) and then whack it until no more dust comes out of it.  Understood?"

Frodo nodded apprehensively.

"And you can get that thing up onto the line yourself," Bilbo said, turning to leave. "My back's bad enough already…"

Frodo waited until Bilbo left to start working. Actually, it wasn't so much work as it was grumbling and swearing. And that was before he got the rug onto the line. But once he did, getting it clean was another thing. It was quite an amusing spectacle; a small hobbitlad striking a rug with a beater, using both hands, of course, with the occasional swear.

"Why… Won't… You… Get… Clean!" he cried, administering a few more thwacks before the rug fatefully slipped of the line onto the ground. He growled, grasping at his head. "Graaahhh! I need a bloody cricket bat to clean this thing!"

He got the rug back onto the line and was in the process of whacking it a bit little more when he stopped suddenly. Feeling like he was being watched, he slowly looked over his shoulder and jumped in surprise.

"Ah!" he cried. "What are you doing!?"

"What?" Sam replied defensively.

"You snuck up behind me!"

"I did…? I'm sorry, Mister- Mister…"

"Frodo."

"Yes… Sorry Mister Frodo."

Frodo sighed and smiled.

"You don't need to keep apologizing for everything."

Sam opened his mouth, and was about to say something when Frodo cut him off.

"And please don't apologize about apologizing! "

Sam looked very hurt, his wide brown eyes unblinking. Frodo couldn't help keep a straight face at this spectacle.

"Oh, come on," he cajoled. "I didn't hurt you that badly, did I?"

"No, sir," Sam mumbled.

"Lighten up!" Frodo slapped Sam on the back. "You're still just a kid."

Sam lowered his eyes at that and shuffled about in place nervously. Frodo found this a good time to change the subject.

"What are you doing out here so early?" Frodo asked.

"It's my job, sir," Sam answered. "I start early so then I don't have to work during the evenin'."

Frodo sighed, rubbing the bottom of his back.

"Look, I don't know about you," Frodo said while massaging his hands. "But I really need a break. Care to join me?"

Sam squeaked and shook his head furiously.

"I swear, Sam," Frodo grinned. "You're such a stiff."

Sam blinked.

"You have to be not working sometime, right?" Frodo inquired incredulously. "There are some grown-ups I know who don't work as long as you!"

Sam blinked. Frodo made a rather amusing noise in response.

"Seriously, all work and no play makes Samwise a dull boy."

Sam blinked. Frodo tried to keep his smile, but it quickly melted away.

"You really know how to mess with people's minds, don't you?"

Sam blinked, and then smiled wryly. Frodo frowned.

"I… see…" Frodo said eventually. "Well, I suppose I'll just being going now…"

Frodo turned and walked off. Sam stood there like after the first time he met Frodo, but then gave a muffled yelp. Frodo stopped and turned around again.

"Yes?"

Sam didn't say anything. Frodo blinked, and walked off again. Sam emitted another mew, causing Frodo to snap himself around.

"What? What is it?" Frodo asked, now a little peeved. Sam thought it best to respond.

"I was thinkin', sir… that I would… if I could join you…?"

Frodo grinned widely.

"Now that's all I've been asking for!" Frodo cried, throwing up his arms. "I was thinking of taking a stroll. Would you like that?"

Sam nodded his head nervously. The two then started walking. For a while, neither said anything. Frodo was just idly looking around, his hands in his pockets. Sam, on the other hand, struggled to keep up with the elder hobbit's long strides. Even though it was morning, Frodo and his companion still received stares from whoever was nearby. Frodo just ignored it. Sam, on the other hand, apprehensively crept up to Frodo, shrinking away from the eyes on him.

"Mister Frodo…" he squeaked. "They're starin'…"

"Oh, they always do that," Frodo replied absentmindedly. "You learn to ignore it after a while."

Sam said nothing. He looked up at Frodo; his blue eyes seemed very deep and serene. This in turn caused Sam to relax a little.

It wasn't long before the two found themselves wandering down a small rural road. The sun was higher in the sky now, the center to be exact, and the weather was beautiful. Summer was just about over, but everything still seemed as lazy as it's ever been. Many minutes, or even hours, it was hard to tell, passed before they came to a stop in a small meadow.

"Let's stop here a moment," Frodo requested, sitting down the lush green grass. Sam quickly followed, and soon the two were scanning the landscape. Off in the distance, Bag End rose slightly above the rest of Bag Shot Row. Farm fields full of wheat caught in the breeze sent golden ripples across the countryside. Reaching into his pocket, Frodo drew out a small, square package. Sam looked over curiously.

            "What's that, Mister Frodo?" he asked timidly.

            "I found this in the pantry," Frodo replied, tearing the unusually ornate paper away. "It's called chocolate."

            Frodo broke off a piece and handed it to Sam. The small hobbitlad's eyes shone wide with wonder, doing nothing but stare at the candy in his fist.

            "Go ahead, Sam," Frodo grinned. "Try some. It's really good."

            Still, Sam did nothing.

            "Here, it's best if you let it melt on your tongue." Frodo took a bite out of the corner of his piece and sucked on it until it dissolved away. Sam looked at his chocolate, and then at Frodo.

            "Go on," Frodo chuckled. Slowly, Sam nibbled on the end of the candy and allowed it to set on his tongue. He blushed in delight as the sugar trickled down the back of his throat and he made a small mew.

            "Oh!"

            Frodo let out a hearty laugh.

            "Good, isn't it? Bilbo says that the stuff it's made of comes all the way from a land far, far south, near Far Harad."

            Sam looked at Frodo, puzzled.

            "You know where Gondor is?" Frodo asked.

            Sam blinked.

            "No, of course you don't…" Frodo muttered. "Here… Have more chocolate."

For what seemed like hours, the two hobbitlads thoughtfully finished their candy. Idly, Frodo closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he fell over onto back to bask in the sun. Sam did nothing, silently staring at the elder hobbitlad's peaceful face.

He looks like an elf…

"Mister Frodo?" Sam said, barely louder than a whisper, breaking the silence. Frodo opened his eyes and looked over at the small hobbitlad. Sam nervously shifted his gaze off of Frodo.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam continued.

Frodo leaned up onto his elbows.

"Doing what?"

Sam drew his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly.

"Why are you trying to do all these things with me?"

"I don't know…" Frodo paused, deep in thought. "You seem to be a very interesting person to me."

Sam replied with a wordless stare.

"I just thought that maybe we could be friends," Frodo said. Sam let out a small gasp, but quickly clasped his hands to his mouth. Embarrassed, he hid his face in his knees.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Frodo asked worriedly. "Was it something I said?"

Sam shook his head.

"No. It's just…" Sam paused, his face burning furiously. "It's just… I've never had a friend before, Mister Frodo."

"Oh, Sam…" Frodo smiled gently. "If that is what it is, then why are you so upset?"

Sam was reluctant to answer.

"Me Gaffer said that it's not proper for a master to be friends with his servant."

Frodo didn't know what to say. His arm hovered over the small huddled ball of a hobbitlad, but he tentatively drew it back.

"I wouldn't be mad if you were my friend," Frodo cajoled.

"It's not that…" Sam replied softly. "I want to be friends with you… But I can't…"

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

Frodo furrowed his brow in worry.

"I… I…" Frodo lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need for that, sir."

Even though he had only known him for a short period of time, Frodo had already figured out that you couldn't win with Samwise Gamgee. Before anything else could go wrong, he decided to go back.

"Maybe we should go," Frodo suggested. Sam wearily nodded his head in agreement and the two stood up to leave. All the way home, neither had said anything to each other. Sam found himself again dropping behind Frodo again. He had barely noticed he had as he gloomily shuffled along with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the ground.

It ain't fair… It just ain't no fair…

Frodo, on the other hand, had thoughts about how much trouble he'd be in when Bilbo found out he didn't finish cleaning the rug.

One simple thing, Frodo Baggins, and you can't even do tha—

"Where'd Sam go?"

Frodo stopped dead in his tracks and looked around. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it," Frodo grumbled to himself. "This is not good… This is not good at all…"

Oh, bravo, genius! Another magnificent achievement from the great and mighty Frodo Baggins!

Frodo jogged back from where he coming, but there was no sign of Sam.

"Sam!" he called. "Sam! Where are you?"

Just then, a small, ginger-headed blur ran past. Frodo turned around quickly.

"Sam! Wait!"

But Sam did not stop, but instead kept running, his step not even faltered by cries ringing out from behind him.

"Slow down! Sam! Sam—" Frodo watched as the hobbitlad disappeared around the corner. "Oh, Sam… Please…"

Frodo dashed ahead, trying to catch up.

"Please wait, Sam!" Frodo cried. "What's the matter?"

"Leave me alone," Sam said, trying not to yell. Frodo slowed to a stop.

"I'm—" Frodo started, but dropped his voice in vain. "… sorry."

Sam almost stopped to throw a glance over his shoulder. Instead he ran a little faster for he could not bring himself to look at Frodo.

"No, Mister Frodo…" he whispered. Hot tears ran down his face, and he scrubbed them away angrily. Soon he disappeared from Frodo's sight again, but, this time, the elder hobbit did not attempt to find him again. Frodo let out an aggravated sigh and slowly strolled back to Bag End, all the while going over the previous events in his mind. Already everything was so complicated. He just wanted a friend, someone to talk to. He just wanted to stop being so alone. He wanted the innocence that was taken from him so long ago. Sam was only a child, but already, it seemed, he was losing his. It broke Frodo's heart to see this... Sam was so much younger than him when he lost his innocence. It wasn't right.

Of course, when he got back, Frodo received a tongue-lashing of sorts from Bilbo, and he was then forced to wash all of the evening meal's dishes.

"Ugg…" Frodo sighed as he lazily scrubbed away at the china. The warm, soap-filled dishwater caused his mind to wander.

I wonder how Sam's doing…

Frodo empowered himself to finish the dishes, and, eventually he did. Grabbing his coat from the coat hook next to the door, he slipped on over his shoulders.

"Bilbo," he called down the hall. "I'm going out for a moment."

Frodo waited a moment. There came no response. So, silently he slipped out through the front door into the twilight.

Briskly, Frodo strolled down the path of Bag Shot Row, the pale moon and starlight illuminating his way. Candles and lamps twinkled from behind smial windows in the distance, some being put out for the night. Blue smoke curled from the chimneys that dotted the hillsides, sending scents of burning firewood and home-cooked meals floating through the crisp air. Nighttime was one of Frodo's favorite things about living in the Shire.

Soon he came to a stop in front of the Gamgees' house. Even though it was dark out, he could still see the lively colors of the flowers. Quietly, he passed through the gate to arrive at the front door. Gently knocking on it, he was answered by a cheerful-looking hobbitlady, her auburn curls burning in the candlelight spilling from inside.

"Hello," she piped up beamingly. "How may I help you, young master?"

"Ah, yes," Frodo said, taking a small bow. "I'm Frodo Baggins. I moved in with Bilbo just the other day."

"Oh, you're the Buckland lad, aren't you?" the hobbitlady inquired. "I'm Bell Gamgee. How may I be of service to you?"

"I just wanted to see how young Samwise is doing," Frodo replied, leaning over slightly to peek inside the smial. Just then, a gruff-looking hobbitsire appeared in the doorway behind Bell.

"What's going on, Bell-love?" the hobbitsire questioned his wife.

"This is Frodo Baggins, Hamfast," Bell introduced the hobbitlad. Hamfast gave Frodo a quick look-over, eyeing him with slight suspicion.

"So this is Frodo, eh?" Hamfast paused. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to know how Sam is doing," Frodo answered, a little fazed from the hobbitsire's firm stare.

"Sam-lad is not available right now," Hamfast replied almost instantaneously. "It's best if you just leave… Now, off with ye."

Before Frodo could even mumble a polite thank-you-anyway, the door was shut in front of him, leaving him a rather confused look on his face. He shrugged and walked away.

"Now, now…" Bell squeaked. "That was not very nice."

"I don't need anymore trouble for tonight," Hamfast grumbled, turning to march away down the hall. Bell sighed.

"Oh, Hamfast…" she whispered to herself. "Why won't you leave the poor lads alone?"

Bell silently locked the door again and shuffled off to continue comforting her heart-broken son.

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Mistress-Samwise: Alrighty-then. Don't you just *love* Sam?! I do! Squee!  And please, please, PLEASE check out the 110% new layout of my website!!! I changed EVERYTHING! It's SO COOL!!! http;//www.lordoftherings.siteid.net . That's all for now.