Disclaimer: see chapter 1

Chapter 9

I arrived at Bag End, surprised that I had not slept in too terribly late. The Gamgees were still sleeping soundly. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I searched through the house to find some sort of rag I could to bandage my arm. I managed to find some old scraps of cloth that Rosie was saving for making a quilt, but I knew she would not mind if I took a piece. Promptly, I tied it around my arm to delay the bleeding and hurried off to the kitchen to begin breakfast.

Rosie entered the now warm room just as I set the final plate on the table.

"You have impeccable timing, Rosie," I greeted her, turning to the fire.

"I guess you're right." Rosie sat herself down at the table and started portioning out the meal to the four plates on the table. I reached into the fireplace and pulled out the teakettle. I brought it to the table and started to pour the steaming liquid into the cups, being careful using my left arm so Rosie would not see my wound. The weight of the iron pot made my grip unsteady so I shifted it to my right arm, but as soon as the weight was transferred, my arm began to throb with pain. I set the kettle down as carefully as I could, trying to hide the aching in my arm. I looked up at Rosie as her gaze ran down to my arm. I looked at it, realizing that I had made the switch. The pure cream cloth was now stained crimson as blood continued to seep into it.

"What happened to your arm?" Rosie asked, getting up from her seat.

Stumbling to find words, I said, "I fell this morning on the journey over here."

"Well let's get you all cleaned up there. That rag won't do anyone any good." Rosie pulled me to the table and hurried around the kitchen to find clean cloths and water. I wanted to get up, but I knew it was no use. Rosie wanted to fuss over me and she would not hear otherwise. She peeled back the soaked cloth from my skin, my arm stinging as the cloth took some of my skin with it. I winced as the warm water poured over the wound and down into a basin. Rosie's soothing touch settled the pain and the new bandaged felt cool and comforting as she wrapped it tightly around my arm.

"That should hold for a while," Rosie said, tucking the final edge away.

"What should hold?" Sam asked as he came into the kitchen after his usual morning of bringing in firewood. He looked down at my arm then saw the old bloody scrap cloth on the table. "What happened?"

"Mira tripped and took a spill this morning on her way over here is all. There's nothing to worry about. I've taken care of her."

I pulled my arm to my body and stood up, looking away from him. "I'll be fine," I said softly, returning to the fire to tend to the glowing embers.

"Don't work yourself too hard. I wouldn't want you to go strain that arm." Rosie quickly cleaned up all the cleaning supplies and picked up Frodo's plate. She returned shortly and we began an typical breakfast morning.

The day progressed fairly normally except that Rosie insisted on helping with some of my shores. I told her I would be fine, but again, nothing would stop her.

As lunch rolled around, Rosie took Frodo his meal as I stayed in the kitchen to tend to all that needed to be put away and cleaned up. I heard her soft footsteps enter the kitchen behind me.

"Frodo would like to talk with you," Rosie said, heading towards the front room where Sam was fixing the fire that heated the entire house.

Nervous as why he would want to talk to me, I slowly moved towards the study, my heart saddening as I realized that I had to bring our outings to an end. I knocked on the door, something I had not done since my initial days of working at Bag End.

"Mirabella?" Frodo called from within.

I opened the door and peered in, steeping inside and closing the door behind me. Frodo stood up and crossed the room to meet me. I tried to avoid his gaze, but I felt it on me. My hand reached to my ear to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. As I brought my arm down, I felt his soft touch grasp my wrist.

"Rosie told me you were hurt." His gentle voice soothed me, but I was still nervous.

"It's nothing really, just a scratch."

"It looks like more than that." He released his grip on my arm and my hand fell to my side. "What do you say to setting out early today?"

"I'm not quite up to going out today," I said, trying to get out of the situation as easily as I could.

"Maybe we can sit and talk in Sam's garden and still enjoy the fresh air."

I wanted to go, to feel my troubles melt away for the few hours I spent with him, but I knew what my father might do to me if he caught us together. "I'd better stay here and finish my chores."

"Please tell me what is troubling you. I can see that something is amiss." His hand cupped my chin and turned my face to his but I still tried to avoid it.

"My father has seen us walking together," I blurted out before my mind registered it.

"Oh."

"He said that people are talking about us and that I shouldn't be seen with you." I pulled away from his touch and stepped back.

"Did your father do that to you?" Frodo gestured towards my arm. My other hand reached over and touched the cloth covering most of my forearm.

"It wasn't his fault, it was an accident."

"Whatever it was, you didn't deserve it."

"Please just leave me alone." I turned around and fled from the room. I grabbed my shawl from the front hall as I passed through it to the door. Grabbing my basket, I ran out of the house, deciding to go for an early venture to the market.

I cherished my time with Frodo, but I could not avoid my father long enough to enjoy those times. Even though no words passed between us, I felt as sense of peace come over me and I knew Frodo felt the same way. I wanted to continue to talk with him, explore the Shire with him, but there was a haunting memory of my father that loomed in the back of my mind.

The constant flurry of people in the market disrupted my thoughts, allowing me to not dwell on those issues that caused my heart pain.

As I returned to Bag End, I felt his looming presence. I hung up my wrap and took my basket to the kitchen, putting all the items away to their proper places. I took a packaged of meat to the storeroom only to run into Rosie.

"Mira, you stormed off so quickly that I thought you were gone for good," she said, laying a hand on my shoulder. I continued my way to the storeroom.

"I'm sorry for my abruptness, but I felt I needed to get the supplies for dinner."

"Frodo could have gone with you."

"That's kind of him, but I needed some time to myself."

"You've been acting a bit strangely today. I know Frodo's been concerned about you, but now I'm starting to worry about you myself." I was slightly surprised to hear that Frodo cared for me.

"I can assure you that I'm fine."

"If you need to talk, Sam and I are always here."

"I know." I entered the storage room and put the meat in the coldest corner, hoping it would stay preserved for some time.

"If you want, you can take the evening off to relax a bit. You've been working awfully hard these days."

"I'd rather stay here and finish out the day."

"If you wish."

I nodded. Rosie and I walked to the front room. She had me sit down in one of the chairs as she pulled out her knitting and began the rhythmic clicking of her needles. She started and awkward conversation, but soon it started to become less forced and she talked to me as more of a friend, asking about my family. Aside from my first day, I spent most of my time working and even at meals, I kept my answers short when it came to family so I would continue to consider the Gamgees more as employers than friends. Through our talk, she asked about my father, but I said nothing concerning his recent anger towards me. I did not want her pity nor did I want her to fret over me more than she thought was necessary.

Rosie took Frodo his dinner in the evening since I did not want to see him and she was willing to take it to him. I knew that the coming weeks of my employment would be hard emotionally without Frodo as an outlet for more troubles. As I wrapped my shawl, I my heart felt lighter to leave and not be fussed over or have to see the sorrow in Frodo, but it soon melted with the realization of where I was headed.

I entered the small sitting room of my familiar old house, seeing my father smoking his pipe and pouring over a book. He glanced up at me, giving a nod of recognition and then returning promptly to his reading. Knowing that he was content with my discontent, I retreated to my bedroom where Lily was busy sewing Ruby a new dress for Yule. She said nothing as I closed the door, changed, and entered the cold bed. It was the way we dealt with our differences, not uttering a word about it and pretending it never existed the next day. Unfortunately for me, I was the only one instilled with my mother's stubbornness for making myself heard, but my broken spirit due to my care for my family left me unable to muster up that courage and truly retaliate against my father.

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Thanks for the reviews. I'll try to get more up soon, but I'll have to see if my creative streak stays.

NicolaPadfoot: sorry for not replying last time. I know you want a romance and others would like a romance, but I'm not completely sure where it's going. The story is kinda running on its own, a little and yeah. I can't guarantee anything happening.

I know a lot of you are about ready to beat the tar out of Mira's father, but there are reasonable causes to his strange anger that should be coming out soon. Hope y'all liked this chapter.