Attack of the Plot Bunnies Chapter Three
Timeline: 22 September 1401/3001; Chapter: 1.I
Credit where Credit is Due: previously posted on my LJ
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien (except for the bits that belong to Peter Jackson and the rest of the people who made the movies.) I'm just playing with the toys.
Author: rabidsamfan
Title: Farewell
Bilbo was beginning to get the rhythm of walking again, as he and the dwarves who had come to escort him to the Lonely Mountain passed out of Hobbiton and into Bywater. It was a lovely warm night, and he was just beginning to think that everything had gone splendidly when Bifur touched his elbow. "We're being followed," he said quietly.
Bilbo stopped to listen. "I don't hear anyone," he said.
"Nor did I, but I saw a shadow against the stars as we came down the hill." Bifur loosened the axe in his belt. "A hobbit, I would think, but from the shape of it, I cannot be sure."
"Well I can," Bilbo said, frowning. He turned and looked into the shadows. "Come on out! Come out, I say! Bifur, put that thing away. We're not a league from Hobbiton, yet." He saw someone move by the line of hedge and squinted. "Frodo, is that you?"
"It's me, Mr. Bilbo," came the soft reply. "Sam Gamgee."
"Sam!" Bilbo beckoned the lad into the dim starlight. "Come here, lad! What are you doing so far from home?"
"I thought I'd come along with you, and have some adventures," Sam answered, trotting forward. He stopped when he reached Bilbo, looking up uncertainly as he tried to discern the older hobbit's expression. A lopsided bag was tied to his shoulders with a twist of rope, and his father's winter hat was pulled down over his ears, as if he were doing his best to look like one of the dwarves. Starlight glittered on the tears that hung precariously in the corners of his eyes. "I can come, can't I?" he asked, and his voice cracked on the words.
"Oh, my Samwise," Bilbo gathered the tweenager into his arms and gave him a hug, glad of a sudden for the chance to make one proper farewell. "Samwise, Samwise, don't you know that you'd break the Gaffer's heart if you went off with me?"
"I don't think his heart can break no more," Sam said into Bilbo's shoulder. "Not since Mam died. Besides, I'm just a ninnyhammer, good for nowt sensible."
Bilbo held the tween at arm's length for a moment, "Did he say that?"
Sam hung his head and sniffled. "The ice ran out, and I forgot to close the icehouse door when I went to fetch some more," he admitted, twisting his toes in the grass. "But I didn't mean no harm!"
"Of course you didn't," Bilbo said. "You've the best heart in Hobbiton, my lad. Haven't I always said so?"
"Then I can come?" Sam asked again, his young face earnest and anxious. Bilbo wished he could say yes. Sam had been his favorite of the Hill's motley assortment of urchins ever since the day he had heard the lad's lisping baby voice happily misquoting one of his very own poems over a bowl of porridge while Bell cooked luncheon in the kitchen of Bag End. He'd seen Sam grow from baby roundness to dancing childhood and on to the elbows and knees and feet of clumsy adolescence. It would be so nice to see Sam grow into himself as Frodo had and become a fine young hobbit.
But it would be desperately unfair to Hamfast.
"No, Sam, I'm sorry."
Sam's shoulder's slumped, and the tears began to flow. "But I'll be good!" he promised.
"And so must I be," Bilbo told him, hugging him again and rubbing the short hairs at the back of his neck with one hand. "You have to stay a little longer, Sam, until you've grown, before you go off to fight your dragons. Even if you don't think the Gaffer needs you, I know that he does – and so does Marigold. And besides," he added, inspired. "I'm depending on you to take care of Frodo."
"You are?" Sam said, wiping at his tears with his hand.
"Of course I am. Who'll see that he doesn't spend all his time reading if you're not there? He'll forget half his meals for the sake of having his nose in a book if he's left to himself, you know that!" Bilbo made himself smile. "I asked Gandalf to keep an eye on him, but Gandalf's not always around, you know. Now. Can I trust you?"
Sam straightened, facing Bilbo with his head held high. "You know you can, Mr. Bilbo."
"Then I'll let you in on a secret," Bilbo said. "I haven't got much time left to me, so I must go now to see the mountains again while I still can, but Frodo and you have many years ahead. There'll come a time when he's ready for an adventure, and if I know Bagginses, he'll need someone along to see that he doesn't forget things – like pocket handkerchiefs." Sam giggled a little, recognizing one of his favorite parts of Bilbo's adventures. "So, if you practice hard at seeing what he needs, and making sure he has it, then when the time comes, I don't see how he'll be able to leave you behind. I've got the dwarves to take care of me," he said, nodding to his waiting companions. "But Frodo's going to need you."
"Do you really think so?" Sam asked, starting to use his coatsleeve to wipe his nose, and then producing a grubby wad of handkerchief from his pocket and displaying it shyly.
"I do. Now, head on home as fast as you can. You're expected to help put away the party things in the morning, I know. And the next day you can begin your new job. All right?"
"All right," Sam said, with an abrupt nod. Then he hugged Bilbo as hard as he could before turning to go. He'd gone a few steps before he stopped again, a curious silhouette in the night. "I won't never see you again, will I Mr. Bilbo?" he said wistfully.
"Yet you may, Samwise Gamgee," Bilbo said, waving farewell, and hitching his pack higher on his shoulders as he watched the boy turn and start back for home. "You may."
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