A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoy this chapter and I apologize after the way I originally wrote chapter 5. Thank you so much for your reviews and constructive criticism!

Disclaimer: No, I own nothing that belongs to Tolkien...but Tansy, Calla and Rory Hortlebower are my creation.

Chapter Six: Camouflage

Tansy sat reclusively near the fireplace. Autumn drew near and it was at this time, the last week of August, she would crotchet many blankets. She busied herself with one, weaving hooked yarn through a 4-foot long blanket the color of chocolate. While she worked vigorously, Tansy tried to focus on the blanket and at times she succeeded, but then her mind would drift to that night when she thought Frodo had been beside her. He held her so tenderly. She turned to face him, though she could not see him in pitch darkness, Tansy felt his lips upon hers. At first, she thought his kiss was different but she never questioned why it felt that way. It seemed foolish to question him about it. Who else could it be?

Why Rory of course. You should have known something was wrong, Tansy. You should have known!

Furious at herself and everything that had happened, Tansy absent-mindedly jabbed the hook into her hand. She looked down and noticed a tiny cut. Tansy raised her shaky hand. On the palm, a little blood revealed itself from the nicked flesh. She fought to keep herself from crying, from falling apart. And when a scream begged to burst any minute from her lungs...

"Tansy?"

She spun around in the chair. There stood Frodo, looking at her strangely.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

Tansy's response to his statement came only in the form of a weak smile across her taut face.

Frodo continued. "You've been working much too long on that blanket."

Tansy peeked at the blanket and then her gaze clambered slowly and shamefully up to his blue eyes again. "You're right. I should rest now."

Again Frodo eyed her suspiciously. He wondered why she had been so distant in a strange way. He often thought to himself, "She can't bare to be with me anymore. The way I've been acting, sleepwalking, finding a knife beneath my pillow. She thinks I'm mad. Well, Tansy, I fear you're right."

Despite his suspicions and rambling thoughts, he held out his hand, smiling warmly. "Come with me to the study. There is something we need to discuss."

"Oh?" said Tansy, suddenly nervous again. She left the blanket on the chair and took his hand. "What about?"

"You'll see," answered Frodo, as if he knew something and kept it secret from Tansy. Her fears heightened even more.

She followed him inside the quaint study where Sam and Rosie were waiting. Both sat at a small, wooden table.

"Well," said Rosie, "Frodo, I see you were able to persuade Tansy to stop with her knitting for now."

Tansy pretended to be her usual bubbly self, perching both hands onto her sides. And forgetting for the moment, the small cut on her left palm.

"What are you up to?" she asked them.

"Sit," Rosie insisted excitedly, "and we'll tell you."

Tansy sat along with Frodo, and then Sam spoke next but softly, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"Mr. Hortlebower is leaving in a few days, so Rosie and I thought of giving him a farewell party. We've already told Frodo about it and we wondered what you thought?"

The smile vanished from Tansy's face, which was now a sudden chalk-white. Her lips fell and a huge wave of uneasiness washed over her. She hated when words eluded her and for the sake of not looking as if something was gravely wrong, Tansy lied again with wide eyes of someone excited and a grin that lit up her face.

"That would be delightful!" Tansy replied and almost sick to her stomach to even utter what she detested to say.

"What about presents?" Sam asked. "A farewell party wouldn't be a party without presents."

Frodo added, "Tomorrow we can buy presents at the Market."

Tansy longed to be free from the conversation, the study, from the unexpected turns on the road called life. She despised herself for keeping Rory's charade hidden, what he had done on that night, and her own dishonesty. Then out of the blue it dawned on her...Rory? Where is he? Calla and Elanor, they were very quiet.

"Excuse me," Tansy blurted, "I need to check on the children."

"The children?" said Rosie, "Oh, they're fine, Tansy. I was with them not long ago."

Tansy rose quickly from the chair. "Remember, those two have a habit of surprising us you know. They're fine one minute and misbehavin' the next."

Baffled, they watched Tansy hurry out of the study. Sam and Rosie peeked at Frodo who avoided their stare. They sensed something wrong between them, thinking it had to do with Frodo's condition. Sam, making sure the silence had been a brief one, continued on with the conversation.

"That's a splendid, idea, Mr. Frodo. We'll buy the presents tomorrow."

Tansy checked the children's room only to discover Elanor rummaging through a wooden chest at the bottom of her bed.

"Elanor, where's Calla?"

Elanor looked up from the toy-filled chest. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know where Calla is."

Frustrated at Elanor's answer, Tansy left the room in another hurry and searched through the tunnels. No sign of Calla. There was a place she hadn't checked yet, a place she feared greatly—Rory's room. Terrified at the thought of her alone with him, her heart raced into a frenzy. Quietly, Tansy sauntered down the hall. She stopped at his open door and when she heard voices, she stood on the side, peeking in. Her heart pummeled faster now at what she feared to see. Calla sat beside Rory on his bed. In her hand was the Raggedy Ann-like doll Tansy made for her.

"Her arm is broken," Calla whined and wiped a tear from off her cheek.

"It can be fixed," Rory assured her, taking the doll from Calla.

Tansy's eyes narrowed with a glint of rage at the real estate broker. He examined the doll's left arm that was bent, seemingly mashed by either something that laid upon it or it simply had been mishandled. Rory straightened out the limp arm until it was no longer bent.

"There," said Rory, "it's all better." He handed the doll back to Calla.

The gloom that darkened her face had vanished. And like the sun when it broke free from a dark prison of storm clouds, Calla's face also beamed while she stared at the doll.

"You fixed it!" she said excitedly. "It's better now, just like your leg."

"Yes," Rory answered without his usual perky smile. For a moment, Tansy thought she heard shame in what he uttered next. "Just like my leg."

Tansy refused to give Calla the opportunity to give him a hug and stepped inside the room.

"Mummeee!" Little Calla said. She jumped down from the bed and scuttled toward her mother. "Look, Mr. Rory fixed my doll!" She would often call him Mr. Rory because she was too young to pronounce his last name correctly.

"Yes, I see," Tansy replied flatly, keeping her angry gaze on Rory. I'm glad she's better, but Calla it's best you tell either me or your daddy when something happens."

"I wanted to mummy, but you and daddy were talking to Uncle Sam and Aunt Rosie in the study."

She sighed. "Alright, go on now."

Tansy waited until Calla left and then she took a few steps toward Rory. At the moment, trying to be brave but nauseated every time she stared into his green eyes. "Leave the children alone!"

"I only want to--,"

"Help?" she finished for him. "That's what you were about to say isn't it? Well, they don't need your help! I look forward to the day when you're gone and then we'll be rid of you!"

Rory tilted his head a little, as if he were analyzing her thoughts. "You didn't tell Frodo. Well, I'm surprised."

"I'll tell him!"

"When? I thought surely you told him by now, unless...you think he won't believe you, or perhaps, you really are fond of me."

"You're mad!"

"Tansy, how can you deny what you feel? I saw it in your eyes when we met."

"Yes," she screamed, "I had some—feelings for you, but please understand, it was only that day. I thought I would never see Frodo again. I felt so alone."

"Then," Rory hesitated and swallowed hard. Tears welled in his eyes. "I'm not so mad after all."

Tansy shook her head. Tears threatened to burst their way down her cheeks. "You hurt me and Frodo. Why?"

"I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to be with you, Tansy. For a moment on that night, you were mine. I felt joy again when I kissed your lips and held you close to me. About Frodo, well, I must confess that I envy him. He has you and Calla. He even has Sam, Rosie, Merry, Pippin and so many others who care for him greatly. I have no one. Please, forgive me for what I've done."

Tansy's lips quivered. "I can't. How can you expect me to just—no, I can't!" she cried, raced out into the hall and left a sorrowful Rory behind in his room.

On the day of his farewell, Rory prepared to leave for Staddle. And before leaving, he never expected a 'farewell party' given by the Bagginses and Gamgees. After they stuffed themselves plenty with food, they gathered inside the parlor where extra chairs were brought out so everyone had a seat, and no one was left out, not even little Calla and Elanor. It had been time for Rory to open his presents. During that time, Tansy kept her eyes shamefully on the floor while Rory unraveled a ribbon that had been tied around a long box. And when he opened it, Rory stared crestfallen at the cherry wood cane.

Frodo smiled. "It's our gift to you," he said, referring to himself and Tansy.

Rory continued to study the cane, an obviously expensive gift no one had ever given him. His father gave him gifts, but no one he considered a friend had taken the time to give him something special.

"I--," Rory began, struggling with his words. And not only the words, he also struggled to make eye contact with Frodo. "You didn't need to trouble yourselves with this party or the presents," he stated, overwhelmed with immense guilt and regret.

"It was no trouble at all," said a sincere Sam Gamgee. "You were very kind to us and we felt bad when you broke your leg."

Rory held the cane in his hand.

"Go on," Sam nudged, "walk with it a little."

"What?"

"We want to make sure you're comfortable with it."

"Ah, yes." Rory stood awkwardly from the chair. He gripped the cane's handle and once again he deceived them with his fake limp as he took a brief walk around. When Rory turned, he could not help but see a thin veil of tears along with contempt in Tansy's eyes. A stubborn lump lodged itself in Rory's throat and when he swallowed hard enough, it no longer annoyed him. "It's the right size," said Rory as he sat down onto the chair. "And it's very comfortable. Thank you, Frodo, and...Tansy. Thank you all for your warm hospitality I'll never forget while being here."

Rory sneaked another peek at Tansy who seemingly avoided his gaze and preferred to stare at the tiled floor.

After the party, Sam helped Rory with a few bags of stuffed presents, loading them onto the back of Rory's fixed cart. Once Sam was done, Rory turned and faced the others standing by.

"Again, I thank you," he said with a warm smile, a fibbed one only Tansy could see. He then added, "Good-bye."

"Good-bye!" they said in unison, all except for Tansy. And when the children barreled toward him and gave him a hearty hug, it pained Tansy to see them in his embrace. She shut her eyes for a few seconds and after opening them, the next thing she saw was Rory leaving on his cart that started down the lane.

It had been another restless night for Tansy. She didn't know how long she could keep everything a secret. Mrs. Baggins lay in bed, staring through the window at the stark white light of the full moon. For a moment, she seemed frozen, not even a blink of her eyes. As time went on, the moon set and up came the sun. Morning faded into mid-day. Sam busied himself in the kitchen preparing lunch. Frodo was inside the study, dipping the quill into a small jar of ink and returning it back onto the page of his journal. Calla and Elanor played happily in their room with friends, two hobbit girls who lived on Bagshot Row. Inside the Gamgee bedroom, Rosie knelt on the floor and pulled out a wicker basket from beneath the bed. In the basket lay soiled clothes, in which Rosie needed to wash. And when she looked up, it surprised her to see Tansy standing by the open door.

Immediately, Rosie bounded onto her feet. She hurried toward her best friend and noticed Mrs. Baggins was greatly troubled.

"Tansy?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you," said Tansy to the golden haired Rosie clad in a white short sleeve dress tucked beneath a sapphire blue jumper. "You need to wash and--,"

"It's all right, said Rosie, taking Tansy's hand and guided her to the bed where they sat beside one another. "I know something's troubling you. I've noticed it ever since Frodo had taken ill again. Oh, Tansy, I know it hasn't been easy for you--,"

"It's not only Frodo's illness," Tansy blurted with hesitation in her voice, but she had no choice and went on. "Rosie?" she started, keeping teary eyes upon clenched hands on her lap. "Remember when I told you about Rory after meeting him in Bree?"

"Yes," said Rosie to Mrs. Baggins. Her red hair had been brushed away from her face and neatly pinned up with several roses.

"Well, when we met, I—I took a liking to him, and he felt the same about me." Tansy stopped and breathed hard. "That day when Frodo was to leave for the Grey Havens, I thought I would never see him again and so when I met Rory—Oh, Rosie, it was only that day. My feelings never went beyond anything more. It's also the reason I couldn't stay in Staddle. And so it surprised me when I saw him again at the Market. I wish I hadn't. Why did he come back?"

Alarmed at where the conversation was headed, Rosie whispered, "Are you saying, when Rory stayed here, something happened between you and him?"

"No, but--," Tansy faltered again with what was the most difficult thing she ever had to say. "Rosie," she barely spoke. Her voice, shaky and raspy. She turned and pushed herself to look at Rosie. "His leg was never broken."

"What?"

"I know it's not easy for you to believe me. One evening, I saw him in the children's room. He didn't see me because I peeked inside, through the crack of the door. Not long before he left, he stood from Calla's bed and hopped on his right leg, the leg supposedly broken. How can that be unless it was all just a charade? And after I talked to him about it, he told me he faked it all along."

Baffled, Rosie squinted and frowned. "Why would Rory do such a thing?" She suddenly halted, recalling Tansy's confession about her feelings toward Rory and how he felt about her. "You think he faked it so he could be with you?"

"I don't think," said Tansy, "It's certain he faked it because of me. There's more."

And when Tansy told Rosie everything, for a moment, Rosie sat in silence. Shock numbed her lips from speaking what was on her mind. Tansy hated that kind of silence, not knowing what Rosie thought. Was she angry with her? Did she believe her? Tansy hung her face in shame until...

"Tansy," Rosie said briskly. "You must tell Frodo."

Tansy's eyes leaped to meet Rosie's firm gaze. "I—can't! What if he thinks I wanted to be with Rory that night? No, I can't!"

"You must! It would be very unfair of you to keep this hidden from him. I'll be honest, I'm not happy you kept it from us all. You knew about his charade and yet you said nothing and let us prepare a party for him. I'm sure we all looked like fools to him, giving him presents and sending him off after what he had done to you and Frodo. Tansy, when will you ever learn?"

Shamed even more by Rosie's anger, Tansy fleeted away from her side and crossed over to the window. The hills outside were like shadows behind a flood of her tears. She knew Rosie stepped beside her but kept her attention on the blurred hills.

"I'm sorry if I sounded a bit testy," said Rosy. Her voice much softer than it was a few minutes ago. "You must understand, this is all a shock to me and though I know you don't want to tell Frodo, you must. It would not be wise to keep such a thing hidden. Tell him now. You don't want it to get any worse."

Tansy slowly nodded.

"And," Rosie added, "Don't think I have no compassion for what Rory had done to you and Frodo. What a dreadful thing." She opened her arms and circled them tightly around Tansy who cried in her soothing embrace.

After dinner, Tansy hardly looked forward to what she had to tell her husband. She eased herself inside the bedroom and saw Frodo sitting at his desk. His face cradled in the palms of his hands. Alarmed at what was bothering Frodo, she cautiously stepped toward him.

"Frodo?" whispered Tansy. Her hands clutched nervously onto her burgundy apron.

He turned in his chair and looked up at Tansy. He appeared so drained and troubled again. "Tansy," he said softly. "When will the dreams end? I see the knife in my dreams. I can't stop thinking about it. I want us to move on with our lives but--,"

Tansy collapsed onto her knees and grasped his hands into hers. "You're not going mad, Frodo. What happened with the knife, you didn't walk in your sleep. You had nothing to do with it."

"What are you talking about? Then how did the knife get under my pillow?"

Tansy's face fell upon his hands. With his fingertips, Frodo gently lifted her chin. Tansy gazed sorrowfully into his eyes. Her lips trembled. A tear zigzagged its way down her cheek.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Rory...he—he put it there."

"Rory? I don't understand."

"His leg, it was all just a charade, Frodo. It was never broken--,"

"What are you saying?"

"Please, let me finish. I should have told you about the day when I met Rory. I—I thought you were gone from me forever. I saw Rory and I didn't mean to but there were feelings between us--,"

"Tansy," Frodo sternly interrupted again. "I asked you was there anything else between you and Rory?"

She swiftly shook her head. "No. No, there wasn't! Just feelings is all, and—and that's why I couldn't stay in Staddle. I never thought he would come back to Hobbiton. He wanted you to think you were going mad so you would leave me again, and then I could be with him. But you see...he's cracked. I didn't know all this until I caught him one evening, hopping on his right leg."

"What about his doctor? He said he had a broken leg."

"His doctor was a fake, what he told me. He plotted the whole thing along with Rory. And...there's more."

Frodo jumped from the chair and away from Tansy. "I don't want to hear anymore."

"You must hear it," she insisted, standing behind him. She wet her shaky, dry lips. "Remember the night when I said you couldn't have walked in your sleep. We were together. You kissed and held me but you didn't remember any of it. Now it all makes sense. You weren't there. Somehow Rory lured you outside. He must have knocked you unconscious and when I awoke--," Tansy fumbled with her words. Her hands clutched her apron even tighter. "I thought you were beside me. It—it was—it was Rory." Tears burst down her cheeks. "He took advantage of me, Frodo!"

Slowly, Frodo turned and faced her. His blue eyes wide with shock, anger and confusion. "No."

Tansy nodded. "It's true."

"No, you're lying to me!"

"Please, believe me," she cried, "I would never lie about such a thing."

"How can I believe you? You weren't honest with me about your feelings for him. I knew something wasn't right between you two!"

Frightened, Tansy reached out for him. He stepped backward. "Frodo, oh Frodo, I would never allow what Rory had done of my free will. It was dark. He deceived me! Do you really believe I would do something like that? I love you, Frodo."

"Stop it!" he screamed.

Tansy flinched at his anger that hardened his face. She had never seen him so angry, and now she was very frightened.

Frodo dashed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to be alone."

She wanted to stop him from going, wishing she could ease his pain, but she had been part of that pain and decided to let him go. After he left, Tansy slumped onto the bed's edge, trembling, fearing what would happen next.

Sam listened at their bedroom door. He heard the Bagginses fight and Frodo marching down the hall. Sam, also shocked and saddened by the latest news, leaned his forehead against the circle.

"Mr. Frodo," he whispered. "He's gone through so much, and now this. I have to be with him."

"No, Sam," said Rosie and stood from the bed. "Let him be. I know you want to comfort him but let them work it out for themselves."

In his nightshirt, Sam turned toward Rosie with tear filled eyes. "That lying wretch, what he did to Mr. Frodo and Tansy. It aint' right!"

"I know, Sam."

"I'm afraid for them, Rosie." He slipped into his wife's embrace. "I don't want anything to happen to them. I want them to be happy, Rosie. When will they ever be happy?"

During the next morning, it had been unusually quiet at the table while the Bagginses and Gamgees ate breakfast. Every moment or so, someone would look up from their plate and sneak a peek at one another. Sam or either Rosie would try their best to chase away the gloom with something cheerful, but it refused to leave and remained heavily in the atmosphere around them.

Sam worried about Calla and Elanor. They were quick witted for their age and he sensed they were aware that something wasn't quite right with Frodo and Tansy. After Sam finished his first breakfast, and before having the second, he cleared his throat and politely stood from the chair.

"Well, I'm off to visit my Gaffer. I won't be long."

"Can I go, too, daddy?" asked an excited Elanor.

"Have you finished your breakfast?" answered the gardener, donned in one of his gray vests of a lightweight material and a billowy white shirt tucked neatly beneath it.

Elanor gave him an eager reply. "I'm done!"

Sam eyed her plate. "So you are."

"I'm done," Calla chimed in. "Can I go, too?"

"It depends on what your dad says."

Calla's water-blue eyes rolled nervously to Frodo sitting at the end of the table. She knew he seemed upset and feared what he would say.

"Daddy?" she barely uttered. "Can I go with Uncle Sam and Elanor?"

Frodo gave her permission with only a nod.

"Alright!" Sam exclaimed, "Let's be off then."

Both girls hopped down from the table and followed Sam out into the parlor. He thought it had been a good idea to take the girls with him, to get away from the tension that continued to trouble Master Samwise.

By mid-day, Tansy sat inside the parlor again. She had to do something with herself, anything to keep herself from screaming. And so she went back to her knitting. Futile it was, because Frodo distracted her each time she weaved the hook through the blanket. She left from where she sat and noticed Frodo took a promenade through the tunnels. His hands tucked behind his vest, the color of sand. One would know that Frodo's walk hadn't been a cheery one, but one of deep thought. Tansy watched him carefully and curiously as he strolled at a snail's pace down the hall. Not far from their room, he froze in his tracks, as if a recall suddenly gripped him. Whatever is was, it held his attention for a few moments. He then marched back in the opposite direction only to be startled by Tansy standing at the end of the tunnel.

"Frodo?" she said timidly and felt the sting of his anger like daggers blazing out from his eyes.

"I need to do something."

"What?" said Tansy, trying to block his path.

"I know you don't want me to go but I must."

"Go where?"

"Tansy," he retorted sternly. His voice so frigid that it seemed to permeate through flesh and bone, and then deeper until coldness reached the dark corners of her soul. "I must go!"

She stumbled out of his way but followed close behind him as he stormed toward the front door.

"Frodo?" she said, raising her voice and her fears along with it. "Please, tell me where you're going!"

He ignored her, yanked the door open and scurried down the steps.

"Frodo!"

TBC

A/N: I'm afraid I had to leave you with another cliffhanger, ducks head once again at flying objects, but I couldn't write what happens next all in one chapter. And again I promise not to keep you waiting long till the next!