Of Cousins and Rams
In Frodo's dream, something was banging quite loudly. He told that something firmly to shut up, thank you, and let me put my hands down Sam's pants, if you will. The banging paused, and Frodo, very satisfied, slid his fingers down the hem of Sam's pants, finding a lovely, slick part of Sam that jumped lightly when he touched there just so.
The banging continued. Loudly.
"Bugger!" Frodo rolled over, now wide awake, aware the banging was not only in his dreams, but in miserable reality as well.
At least Sam -- a naked, aroused Sam -- was lying beside him.
Sam looked terrified. "Should I answer it?" he whispered.
"Er." Frodo was distracted, quite rightly, by the achingly beautiful piece of hobbit beside him. "Um," he said. "Something's up."
Sam let out a strained chuckle. "'Tis not my fault you were having one of those dreams, seemingly. A writhing Frodo Baggins moaning next to me is going to make these things happen."
Frodo lightly pressed his lips on Sam's. "I think we should get up now. But keep that thought."
"Oh, I will," muttered Sam darkly.
Frodo didn't move. Sam sighed. Getting Frodo out of bed was the hardest part of Sam's day. True, it used to be difficult enough when he wasn't sleeping in his master's bed, but now… Frodo had that way of looking at him -- those blue eyes half-hid by a sweep of lashes, that tumble of earth-dark curls softly floating on the pillow, lips a rosy-pink, whispering that he wanted--
Sam heard something somewhat discouraging. Or, rather, he didn't hear anything.
The banging had ceased.
"Frodo--" he began.
"If you two could stop bloody tumbling for one moment, maybe you could fetch Pip and me some breakfast!" came a voice just outside the door. The Buckland twang could only mean it was Merry.
"Hurry!" added another voice. Pippin. Obviously.
"All right, all right!" called Frodo in an annoyed tone. Frodo stretched out of bed, followed by Sam. As Sam tugged on his breeches, he thought about Frodo's unruly cousins. For example, why were they here? Unfortunately, he had not discovered this. And not through a want of trying, either. Oh no. The dinner had been very pleasant, with loads of cold ham, eggs, bread and fruit on offer, and after, Sam, the Gaffer and Frodo had smoked and talked in the parlour, while the girls flipped through one of Frodo's books with many pretty pictures, sometimes giggling at the elven garments (the elves, seemingly, enjoyed the fashion of wearing breeches that left naught to the imagination.) Later, when Sam and Frodo toppled into bed, was when the fun began. Sam had tried all ten things that he was sure would cause Frodo to spill what evidence Merry and Pippin would give. Sam didn't even joke to himself what else it might spill. Number three had been sticking his tongue into a dark, warm part of Frodo's anatomy. No luck. Seven was teasing a quill over another part of Frodo's body that was rosy and dripping at the time. No luck. Nine was fondling a pair of nicely ripe apricots, and not just fondling but sucking and squeezing as well. Still no luck. Afterwards, Sam had fallen asleep in exhaustion, only to wake up to find Frodo was experiencing a dream. Nice.
Frodo and Sam found Merry and Pippin in the kitchen, making themselves at home. Deciding not to wait for Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin were happily frying rashers of bacon and spiced scrambled eggs, while a kettle steamed on the hob.
"Merry," began Frodo, "what are you -- oof!" Merry nearly bowled Frodo over with a cousinly hug.
"How are you, Frodo?" asked Merry, pecking a kiss on Frodo's cheek. "That Lobelia needs a swift kick in the you-know-where, doesn't she?"
"Yes, dear Merry." Frodo rolled his eyes. "Though I hope her losing this trial will be enough punishment."
"Ah, Frodo, always so gentle." Merry tugged on a bit of Frodo's hair. Frodo swatted him away, giving Merry an exasperated look. "Maybe I ought to give Pip a big kiss right in the middle of court today, eh? Show these backward folk a thing or two from the Eastfarthing."
"Just do what I told you," warned Frodo. He sat down and took a sip of tea Merry had set in front of him.
"Don't worry, Frodo," grinned Pippin. "We'll be good."
Frodo gave Pippin a look that showed exactly how much truth he thought that statement held. "Pippin, the day I--"
Frodo found himself with an armful of wriggling Took in his lap. Pippin dipped a mischievous look in Frodo's direction. "These hobbits in the Westfarthing don't know what they're missing out on. Remember a few summers back when Merry and I showed you how much fun the hayloft could be?"
"Pippin!" Frodo dumped the younger hobbit on the floor. "I -- I don't -- what--" Frodo spluttered a few more words before giving Sam an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Sam."
"'Tis all right, sir." Sam negotiated the pile of flustered Took on the floor and sat at the table with a plate heavy with eggs and bacon. "As long as your cousins don't try nothing now."
"Oh, we won't, Sam," said Merry breezily, helping Pippin up. "We know you'll kill us if we even give Frodo an amorous look."
Sam stared at his plate, but said nothing.
"I think he really would, Pip," said Merry in a loud whisper.
"Oh, yes," giggled Pippin.
"You two, stop it," said Frodo, smacking Merry on the arm. "That was a long time ago. Sam and I are very much in love."
"You know we wouldn't, dear Frodo," said Merry, sitting down with his own breakfast, followed by Pippin. "Anyway, Pip here's found somebody."
Frodo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who is that?"
"Wattle Burrowes," said Merry knowledgeably. "Apparently they met at one of those wild Tookland orgies."
"We did not!" said Pippin hotly, mouth filled with mashed egg.
"Pip, dear, swallow that first," said Frodo mildly.
Pippin swallowed. "Well, we didn't! We met out in the pool one evening while she was swimming with some other lasses. It's a Took custom to swim without one's clothing on."
"That's the first I've heard of it," said Frodo, popping a bit of egg into his mouth.
"It's new," muttered Pippin, examining his bacon thoroughly.
"All right," said Frodo, covering a chuckle with his napkin. "Let's stop teasing Pippin. We have more important things to discuss."
"We know what we're going to say, Frodo," said Merry. "That we saw--"
"Hush!" Frodo tossed a look at Sam. "It's a secret. Sam will see in court today."
"Nothing I can do to get it out of him, seemingly," muttered Sam, blushing hotly.
"You can't say it wasn't fun," whispered Frodo, pinching Sam's bottom. Sam found a piece of egg particularly interesting.
Merry looked amused. "Have it your way, Frodo. You'll win, with me and Pip here."
Frodo raised an eyebrow but said naught.
"Anyway, Frodo, you could always come to Tuckborough or Buckland with Sam if you lose," piped up Pippin. He smiled widely, mouth full of egg. "Maybe Sam'd like to take a look in the hayloft."
"Pippin," said Frodo warningly. "I am not going to lose Bag End to some silly law that doesn't even make sense. If push comes to shove, I'll stand in the hall with a shovel ready to swing."
"Hoy! Sounds like fun," chortled Merry. "Apparently my Great Uncle Dino did that years ago. They wanted to bring him to Brandy Hall because he was getting too old to look after himself. My da reckons he found Dino eating a strap of leather one day. Anyway, Dino armed himself with a spoon and whacked a few hobbits with it, too, till they managed to disarm him. Died a few years later, the old fellow. Found him in bed with a leather belt in his mouth." Merry shoved a bit of bacon between his teeth.
"I don't want to fight if I can help it," said Frodo. "But I shall if I have to. Eat up, dears, and we will take the pony and cart to Michel Delving."
The ride to Michel Delving was hot, though Frodo was cooled slightly when Pippin dumped a bottle of water over his head. Fortunately, it dried before they arrived at the court, and Sam did seem to enjoy watching the tendrils of Frodo's hair stick to his scalp, and the way Frodo's shirt flattened on his chest to hint at a rosy nipple.
Sam took the pony and cart to Morgo's, while Frodo, Merry and Pippin gathered near the Hole's steps, waiting. Shortly after, Lobelia and her son arrived, casting frosty glances in their direction. Sam's Gaffer wasn't there; he'd only come when May and Marigold were there to help him.
"You know," Merry mused, "Pip and I could think of some trick to play on Lobelia. Pip's awfully good at playing tricks, aren't you? Remember how you poured glue into cousin Dahlia's best bonnet when she said you kissed like a dead fish? She had to cut all of her glorious blonde locks off! Caused a tremendous riot. Terribly funny, though."
"Merry." Frodo ground his teeth. "How many times--"
"Just kidding!" Merry whacked Frodo on the back. "We won't do anything, we promise."
"Good," Frodo muttered. His face brightened as Sam came up to their group.
"Young love," Merry sighed dramatically. "How wonderful it is!"
Sam blushed.
"In all seriousness," said Merry to Frodo, "I think it's lovely that you and Sam are together. Pippin and I had laid bets on when you'd finally both trip into the same bed. Unfortunately I lost, but to see you so happy, especially after Bilbo disappeared, eases my heart. You and Sam are both dear to me."
"Oy! What about me?" Pippin tried to look hurt, but failed as a grin tugged up his lips.
"You too," Merry said, giving Pippin a hug.
"All right, all right," said Frodo, laughing. "Enough of this or I'll have to bring out the handkerchiefs! The mayor's coming out now; we'll have to go in soon. Mind yourself, dear cousins, or you might find a bruise in a rather uncomfortable part of your anatomy."
This time when they entered the court, there was an extra seat on the mayor's left side, apparently set there for the witnesses to sit upon. There was the usual flurry of activity and shouts as everybody was seated; Merry and Pippin sat next to Frodo and Sam on the bench. Merry rubbed his bottom, grimacing.
Will banged down his gavel. He consulted his notes. The crowd quieted. "First I will summarise what happened yesterday," he said. "Mrs. Sackville-Baggins accused Mr. Baggins of sharing a bed with Samwise Gamgee. Mr. Baggins pleaded guilty, and then argued Mrs. Sackville-Baggins only brought this matter to our attention because she wants Mr. Baggins' smial, Bag End. Let's continue from there. Mr. Baggins, do you have any evidence that Mrs. Sackville-Baggins would want Bag End?"
Frodo rose and slowly walked to the front of the court. "Only circumstantial evidence, Your Honour," he said, pacing up and down. "If it weren't for me, her husband Otho would have been Bilbo's heir, and would have received Bag End when Bilbo left the Shire. After Bilbo's farewell party in 1401, I have a witness, Meriadoc Brandybuck, who will vouch for me when I say that Mrs. Sackville-Baggins told me I should have left with Bilbo. She and her husband were very interested in Bilbo's will, insisting on reading the document. It turned out to be correct, with seven witnesses' signatures in red ink, so they could do nothing to stop me living in Bag End. Now, it seems, she's found something.
"As well, when Bilbo came back from his first adventure in 1342, he found the Sackville-Bagginses measuring Bag End's rooms to see if their own furniture would fit. I would expect that sort of behaviour from people who were desperate to own Bag End."
"If you left Bag End," asked the mayor, "would Mrs. Sackville-Baggins be the rightful owner?"
"No." Frodo leaned against a bench, looking directly at Lobelia. "I have no heir, for now, so legally Otho would receive Bag End. Since he is dead, it would rightfully belong to his son, Lotho. Since I have broken the law, apparently, I cannot sell it to whoever I chose."
"So Mrs. Sackville-Baggins would benefit from this trial if you are found guilty?" the mayor mused, brushing a quill across his cheek.
"Certainly." Frodo smiled. "I'm sure Lotho, being a bachelor, would allow his mother to reside in Bag End, for a while at least." Lobelia frowned and glared at him.
"Do you want to call up Mr. Brandybuck as a witness?" said Will.
"Yes, please."
Merry walked up to the front of the court, with a swagger of hips and a huge grin, and sat on the witness' seat, leaning back and stretching out his long legs.
"Hullo," he said, cheerfully, to the mayor.
The mayor scowled and nodded to Frodo to get on with it.
"Mr. Brandybuck--" he began. Merry snorted. "--Merry, did you hear what Mrs. Sackville-Baggins said to me after Bilbo's party?"
"Of course," said Merry. "She said you would 'live to regret it.' Living in his own smial, I suppose that means. She said he ought to have left with Bilbo. Then she gave Frodo the compliment of being a Brandybuck instead of a Baggins."
"Thank you, Merry," said Frodo. He turned to Mr. Grubb. "Do you want to question the witness?" Grubb shook his head. "You may sit down, Merry."
"Is that all?" Merry looked around, disappointed.
"Go back to your bench," barked the mayor, in no mood for frivolities. Merry looked as if his pride had been given a sound beating as he sat next to Sam.
"Nasty piece of work, isn't he?" Merry murmured, nodding to Will. "Maybe he's got indigestion, judging by his belly."
Sam wasn't listening. Instead he was watching Lobelia whisper to her lawyer. He wished she'd shut her sour mouth for once. She didn't deserve the Baggins name, for sure, not when fine hobbits like Mr. Bilbo and Frodo had to share it with her.
"Mr. Grubb, do you have anything to say?" the mayor said, breaking Sam's thoughts.
Grubb stood up. "Mrs. Sackville-Baggins does not deny she said that to Mr. Baggins, though she says she was upset at the time that her dear friend, Bilbo, had disappeared all of a sudden, and so regrets that her behaviour may have seemed…forthright. She apologises to Mr. Baggins, and regrets that he misunderstood the situation. Mrs. Sackville-Baggins would also like to add she is very comfortable in her smial, and has no desire to move."
"Bollocks," hissed Merry. "She hated Bilbo. It was like all her Yuletides had come at once when he disappeared. Until she found out Frodo had Bag End." Sam agreed; he remembered, years ago at Mr. Bilbo's party, as he basted fat hens in the open-air kitchen, seeing Lobelia just after Mr. Bilbo had gone. She looked like Sam would have if he'd known then how lovely Frodo's mouth was when it ravished every part of Sam's body.
"Mr. Baggins?" Will asked.
Frodo sighed. "I have nothing more to say about this." He walked to the bench and riffled through his notes. "I do, however, have much to say in answer to the charges Mrs. Sackville-Baggins has levelled against me. As I said yesterday, I believe that this law is not valid -- and that it does not reflect the views of most hobbits." A ripple of murmurs fanned out through the court. He continued, "But I know that may not convince you, Your Honour, to remove the law."
Will frowned. He didn't like the idea of having to amend the Westfarthing's many laws. He'd never done it in all his years as the mayor, and the idea of sifting through reams of parchment stuffed somewhere in the Lockholes to strike out a particular passage and write the new law sounded tiresome at the very least. Besides, there were other laws that hadn't been amended, and nobody (except a busybody like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins) took any notice of them when they were broken. Like the one which stated that every second Trewsday during winter all hobbits must swim across the Water and back again wearing naught but their skin. Apparently some mad Took had made it up hundreds of years ago; luckily the practice lasted only a few winters.
Will sighed. He'd much rather be thinking about salted pork and warm apple pie than the law. Truth be told, this whole trial was disturbing him a great deal. It was dredging up some memory half forgotten… Oh, he had sympathy for Frodo and for Sam; that Lobelia really was detestable, but it was his duty to uphold the law when it was very obviously broken when brought before him. If the law wasn't maintained, havoc would ensue.
"My friend, Peregrin Took," Frodo was saying, "has a very interesting story to tell the court. Pippin, please come up to the witness chair and share it with us."
Looking slightly bewildered, Pippin eased out of the bench and took his seat. He pushed his coppery curls from his eyes and gave his audience a smile. "Hullo," he said. "Hot, isn't it?"
"Get on with it," said Frodo through gritted teeth.
Pippin rolled his eyes. "All right, Frodo. Keep your pants on." Not, Frodo reflected, the best possible remark to be made at this time.
"My father, the Took," began Pippin, "owns a few hundred head of sheep in Tookland. Every year we sell the lambs throughout the four farthings, at a decent price too, because my dad only breeds the best. Sometimes, though, some of the rams don't, er, perform how we'd like them to, if you take my meaning. I'm sure the other farmers around here will tell you the same. So, um, you see, those rams don't seem to like the ewes. Some of them will even try to--" Pippin paused and glanced at Frodo. Frodo closed his eyes painfully and nodded. "--Mount other rams."
"So you see," said Frodo loudly over the uproar and weeping, "it can't be said it's entirely unnatural -- there's not much more natural than a herd of sheep."
Sam blinked, surprised. He'd heard that some rams were butchered because they didn't breed quality stock, but not because--
Pippin jumped into the seat next to Sam. "Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?" he whispered. "I don't think much is said about it by the farmers. My dad told me about it, though, because he said I'd have to learn that kind of thing when I become the Took. Frodo knew, too, because one day we saw it happen." Pippin looked sly. "In fact, he rather wanted to try it out, too."
Sam gave Pippin a quick look. He knew about Frodo and his cousins, and a few of the lasses, too. Frodo had confessed it all to Sam, after Sam was quite certain (after a delightful experience) that Frodo was not a virgin. Anyhow, Sam had had a few tumbles with Tom Cotton, and Rosie for that matter, so Sam didn't say aught more about it. Still, the thought of Frodo's lovely skin warming beneath somebody else's hands prickled him with jealously.
The room hushed as Frodo began to speak. "I know this is rather startling, but I think I've made a point: maybe it's not something you can control. The rams do not think, they follow their instincts. How can that be wrong? Maybe you can't choose who you will fall in love with, whether they be a lad or lass. I believe it's something your heart chooses, not your head." His eyes sought Sam's; he looked imploringly, all his love swirling around in a storm of glittering blue. "I love Sam," he continued quietly. "Even if he were a lass, I would want to spend my entire life with him, share every moment with him. It's nothing to be shunned or hidden away. It's a beautiful thing, lovelier than a winter snowfall. I love you, Sam."
Sam blinked hard, blood rushing to his cheeks. Frodo's eyes lingered on him, soft and happy. Sam stood up. "I love you too, Frodo Baggins," he said, and flew to the front of the court to pull Frodo into a tight hug.
TBC...
In Frodo's dream, something was banging quite loudly. He told that something firmly to shut up, thank you, and let me put my hands down Sam's pants, if you will. The banging paused, and Frodo, very satisfied, slid his fingers down the hem of Sam's pants, finding a lovely, slick part of Sam that jumped lightly when he touched there just so.
The banging continued. Loudly.
"Bugger!" Frodo rolled over, now wide awake, aware the banging was not only in his dreams, but in miserable reality as well.
At least Sam -- a naked, aroused Sam -- was lying beside him.
Sam looked terrified. "Should I answer it?" he whispered.
"Er." Frodo was distracted, quite rightly, by the achingly beautiful piece of hobbit beside him. "Um," he said. "Something's up."
Sam let out a strained chuckle. "'Tis not my fault you were having one of those dreams, seemingly. A writhing Frodo Baggins moaning next to me is going to make these things happen."
Frodo lightly pressed his lips on Sam's. "I think we should get up now. But keep that thought."
"Oh, I will," muttered Sam darkly.
Frodo didn't move. Sam sighed. Getting Frodo out of bed was the hardest part of Sam's day. True, it used to be difficult enough when he wasn't sleeping in his master's bed, but now… Frodo had that way of looking at him -- those blue eyes half-hid by a sweep of lashes, that tumble of earth-dark curls softly floating on the pillow, lips a rosy-pink, whispering that he wanted--
Sam heard something somewhat discouraging. Or, rather, he didn't hear anything.
The banging had ceased.
"Frodo--" he began.
"If you two could stop bloody tumbling for one moment, maybe you could fetch Pip and me some breakfast!" came a voice just outside the door. The Buckland twang could only mean it was Merry.
"Hurry!" added another voice. Pippin. Obviously.
"All right, all right!" called Frodo in an annoyed tone. Frodo stretched out of bed, followed by Sam. As Sam tugged on his breeches, he thought about Frodo's unruly cousins. For example, why were they here? Unfortunately, he had not discovered this. And not through a want of trying, either. Oh no. The dinner had been very pleasant, with loads of cold ham, eggs, bread and fruit on offer, and after, Sam, the Gaffer and Frodo had smoked and talked in the parlour, while the girls flipped through one of Frodo's books with many pretty pictures, sometimes giggling at the elven garments (the elves, seemingly, enjoyed the fashion of wearing breeches that left naught to the imagination.) Later, when Sam and Frodo toppled into bed, was when the fun began. Sam had tried all ten things that he was sure would cause Frodo to spill what evidence Merry and Pippin would give. Sam didn't even joke to himself what else it might spill. Number three had been sticking his tongue into a dark, warm part of Frodo's anatomy. No luck. Seven was teasing a quill over another part of Frodo's body that was rosy and dripping at the time. No luck. Nine was fondling a pair of nicely ripe apricots, and not just fondling but sucking and squeezing as well. Still no luck. Afterwards, Sam had fallen asleep in exhaustion, only to wake up to find Frodo was experiencing a dream. Nice.
Frodo and Sam found Merry and Pippin in the kitchen, making themselves at home. Deciding not to wait for Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin were happily frying rashers of bacon and spiced scrambled eggs, while a kettle steamed on the hob.
"Merry," began Frodo, "what are you -- oof!" Merry nearly bowled Frodo over with a cousinly hug.
"How are you, Frodo?" asked Merry, pecking a kiss on Frodo's cheek. "That Lobelia needs a swift kick in the you-know-where, doesn't she?"
"Yes, dear Merry." Frodo rolled his eyes. "Though I hope her losing this trial will be enough punishment."
"Ah, Frodo, always so gentle." Merry tugged on a bit of Frodo's hair. Frodo swatted him away, giving Merry an exasperated look. "Maybe I ought to give Pip a big kiss right in the middle of court today, eh? Show these backward folk a thing or two from the Eastfarthing."
"Just do what I told you," warned Frodo. He sat down and took a sip of tea Merry had set in front of him.
"Don't worry, Frodo," grinned Pippin. "We'll be good."
Frodo gave Pippin a look that showed exactly how much truth he thought that statement held. "Pippin, the day I--"
Frodo found himself with an armful of wriggling Took in his lap. Pippin dipped a mischievous look in Frodo's direction. "These hobbits in the Westfarthing don't know what they're missing out on. Remember a few summers back when Merry and I showed you how much fun the hayloft could be?"
"Pippin!" Frodo dumped the younger hobbit on the floor. "I -- I don't -- what--" Frodo spluttered a few more words before giving Sam an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Sam."
"'Tis all right, sir." Sam negotiated the pile of flustered Took on the floor and sat at the table with a plate heavy with eggs and bacon. "As long as your cousins don't try nothing now."
"Oh, we won't, Sam," said Merry breezily, helping Pippin up. "We know you'll kill us if we even give Frodo an amorous look."
Sam stared at his plate, but said nothing.
"I think he really would, Pip," said Merry in a loud whisper.
"Oh, yes," giggled Pippin.
"You two, stop it," said Frodo, smacking Merry on the arm. "That was a long time ago. Sam and I are very much in love."
"You know we wouldn't, dear Frodo," said Merry, sitting down with his own breakfast, followed by Pippin. "Anyway, Pip here's found somebody."
Frodo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who is that?"
"Wattle Burrowes," said Merry knowledgeably. "Apparently they met at one of those wild Tookland orgies."
"We did not!" said Pippin hotly, mouth filled with mashed egg.
"Pip, dear, swallow that first," said Frodo mildly.
Pippin swallowed. "Well, we didn't! We met out in the pool one evening while she was swimming with some other lasses. It's a Took custom to swim without one's clothing on."
"That's the first I've heard of it," said Frodo, popping a bit of egg into his mouth.
"It's new," muttered Pippin, examining his bacon thoroughly.
"All right," said Frodo, covering a chuckle with his napkin. "Let's stop teasing Pippin. We have more important things to discuss."
"We know what we're going to say, Frodo," said Merry. "That we saw--"
"Hush!" Frodo tossed a look at Sam. "It's a secret. Sam will see in court today."
"Nothing I can do to get it out of him, seemingly," muttered Sam, blushing hotly.
"You can't say it wasn't fun," whispered Frodo, pinching Sam's bottom. Sam found a piece of egg particularly interesting.
Merry looked amused. "Have it your way, Frodo. You'll win, with me and Pip here."
Frodo raised an eyebrow but said naught.
"Anyway, Frodo, you could always come to Tuckborough or Buckland with Sam if you lose," piped up Pippin. He smiled widely, mouth full of egg. "Maybe Sam'd like to take a look in the hayloft."
"Pippin," said Frodo warningly. "I am not going to lose Bag End to some silly law that doesn't even make sense. If push comes to shove, I'll stand in the hall with a shovel ready to swing."
"Hoy! Sounds like fun," chortled Merry. "Apparently my Great Uncle Dino did that years ago. They wanted to bring him to Brandy Hall because he was getting too old to look after himself. My da reckons he found Dino eating a strap of leather one day. Anyway, Dino armed himself with a spoon and whacked a few hobbits with it, too, till they managed to disarm him. Died a few years later, the old fellow. Found him in bed with a leather belt in his mouth." Merry shoved a bit of bacon between his teeth.
"I don't want to fight if I can help it," said Frodo. "But I shall if I have to. Eat up, dears, and we will take the pony and cart to Michel Delving."
The ride to Michel Delving was hot, though Frodo was cooled slightly when Pippin dumped a bottle of water over his head. Fortunately, it dried before they arrived at the court, and Sam did seem to enjoy watching the tendrils of Frodo's hair stick to his scalp, and the way Frodo's shirt flattened on his chest to hint at a rosy nipple.
Sam took the pony and cart to Morgo's, while Frodo, Merry and Pippin gathered near the Hole's steps, waiting. Shortly after, Lobelia and her son arrived, casting frosty glances in their direction. Sam's Gaffer wasn't there; he'd only come when May and Marigold were there to help him.
"You know," Merry mused, "Pip and I could think of some trick to play on Lobelia. Pip's awfully good at playing tricks, aren't you? Remember how you poured glue into cousin Dahlia's best bonnet when she said you kissed like a dead fish? She had to cut all of her glorious blonde locks off! Caused a tremendous riot. Terribly funny, though."
"Merry." Frodo ground his teeth. "How many times--"
"Just kidding!" Merry whacked Frodo on the back. "We won't do anything, we promise."
"Good," Frodo muttered. His face brightened as Sam came up to their group.
"Young love," Merry sighed dramatically. "How wonderful it is!"
Sam blushed.
"In all seriousness," said Merry to Frodo, "I think it's lovely that you and Sam are together. Pippin and I had laid bets on when you'd finally both trip into the same bed. Unfortunately I lost, but to see you so happy, especially after Bilbo disappeared, eases my heart. You and Sam are both dear to me."
"Oy! What about me?" Pippin tried to look hurt, but failed as a grin tugged up his lips.
"You too," Merry said, giving Pippin a hug.
"All right, all right," said Frodo, laughing. "Enough of this or I'll have to bring out the handkerchiefs! The mayor's coming out now; we'll have to go in soon. Mind yourself, dear cousins, or you might find a bruise in a rather uncomfortable part of your anatomy."
This time when they entered the court, there was an extra seat on the mayor's left side, apparently set there for the witnesses to sit upon. There was the usual flurry of activity and shouts as everybody was seated; Merry and Pippin sat next to Frodo and Sam on the bench. Merry rubbed his bottom, grimacing.
Will banged down his gavel. He consulted his notes. The crowd quieted. "First I will summarise what happened yesterday," he said. "Mrs. Sackville-Baggins accused Mr. Baggins of sharing a bed with Samwise Gamgee. Mr. Baggins pleaded guilty, and then argued Mrs. Sackville-Baggins only brought this matter to our attention because she wants Mr. Baggins' smial, Bag End. Let's continue from there. Mr. Baggins, do you have any evidence that Mrs. Sackville-Baggins would want Bag End?"
Frodo rose and slowly walked to the front of the court. "Only circumstantial evidence, Your Honour," he said, pacing up and down. "If it weren't for me, her husband Otho would have been Bilbo's heir, and would have received Bag End when Bilbo left the Shire. After Bilbo's farewell party in 1401, I have a witness, Meriadoc Brandybuck, who will vouch for me when I say that Mrs. Sackville-Baggins told me I should have left with Bilbo. She and her husband were very interested in Bilbo's will, insisting on reading the document. It turned out to be correct, with seven witnesses' signatures in red ink, so they could do nothing to stop me living in Bag End. Now, it seems, she's found something.
"As well, when Bilbo came back from his first adventure in 1342, he found the Sackville-Bagginses measuring Bag End's rooms to see if their own furniture would fit. I would expect that sort of behaviour from people who were desperate to own Bag End."
"If you left Bag End," asked the mayor, "would Mrs. Sackville-Baggins be the rightful owner?"
"No." Frodo leaned against a bench, looking directly at Lobelia. "I have no heir, for now, so legally Otho would receive Bag End. Since he is dead, it would rightfully belong to his son, Lotho. Since I have broken the law, apparently, I cannot sell it to whoever I chose."
"So Mrs. Sackville-Baggins would benefit from this trial if you are found guilty?" the mayor mused, brushing a quill across his cheek.
"Certainly." Frodo smiled. "I'm sure Lotho, being a bachelor, would allow his mother to reside in Bag End, for a while at least." Lobelia frowned and glared at him.
"Do you want to call up Mr. Brandybuck as a witness?" said Will.
"Yes, please."
Merry walked up to the front of the court, with a swagger of hips and a huge grin, and sat on the witness' seat, leaning back and stretching out his long legs.
"Hullo," he said, cheerfully, to the mayor.
The mayor scowled and nodded to Frodo to get on with it.
"Mr. Brandybuck--" he began. Merry snorted. "--Merry, did you hear what Mrs. Sackville-Baggins said to me after Bilbo's party?"
"Of course," said Merry. "She said you would 'live to regret it.' Living in his own smial, I suppose that means. She said he ought to have left with Bilbo. Then she gave Frodo the compliment of being a Brandybuck instead of a Baggins."
"Thank you, Merry," said Frodo. He turned to Mr. Grubb. "Do you want to question the witness?" Grubb shook his head. "You may sit down, Merry."
"Is that all?" Merry looked around, disappointed.
"Go back to your bench," barked the mayor, in no mood for frivolities. Merry looked as if his pride had been given a sound beating as he sat next to Sam.
"Nasty piece of work, isn't he?" Merry murmured, nodding to Will. "Maybe he's got indigestion, judging by his belly."
Sam wasn't listening. Instead he was watching Lobelia whisper to her lawyer. He wished she'd shut her sour mouth for once. She didn't deserve the Baggins name, for sure, not when fine hobbits like Mr. Bilbo and Frodo had to share it with her.
"Mr. Grubb, do you have anything to say?" the mayor said, breaking Sam's thoughts.
Grubb stood up. "Mrs. Sackville-Baggins does not deny she said that to Mr. Baggins, though she says she was upset at the time that her dear friend, Bilbo, had disappeared all of a sudden, and so regrets that her behaviour may have seemed…forthright. She apologises to Mr. Baggins, and regrets that he misunderstood the situation. Mrs. Sackville-Baggins would also like to add she is very comfortable in her smial, and has no desire to move."
"Bollocks," hissed Merry. "She hated Bilbo. It was like all her Yuletides had come at once when he disappeared. Until she found out Frodo had Bag End." Sam agreed; he remembered, years ago at Mr. Bilbo's party, as he basted fat hens in the open-air kitchen, seeing Lobelia just after Mr. Bilbo had gone. She looked like Sam would have if he'd known then how lovely Frodo's mouth was when it ravished every part of Sam's body.
"Mr. Baggins?" Will asked.
Frodo sighed. "I have nothing more to say about this." He walked to the bench and riffled through his notes. "I do, however, have much to say in answer to the charges Mrs. Sackville-Baggins has levelled against me. As I said yesterday, I believe that this law is not valid -- and that it does not reflect the views of most hobbits." A ripple of murmurs fanned out through the court. He continued, "But I know that may not convince you, Your Honour, to remove the law."
Will frowned. He didn't like the idea of having to amend the Westfarthing's many laws. He'd never done it in all his years as the mayor, and the idea of sifting through reams of parchment stuffed somewhere in the Lockholes to strike out a particular passage and write the new law sounded tiresome at the very least. Besides, there were other laws that hadn't been amended, and nobody (except a busybody like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins) took any notice of them when they were broken. Like the one which stated that every second Trewsday during winter all hobbits must swim across the Water and back again wearing naught but their skin. Apparently some mad Took had made it up hundreds of years ago; luckily the practice lasted only a few winters.
Will sighed. He'd much rather be thinking about salted pork and warm apple pie than the law. Truth be told, this whole trial was disturbing him a great deal. It was dredging up some memory half forgotten… Oh, he had sympathy for Frodo and for Sam; that Lobelia really was detestable, but it was his duty to uphold the law when it was very obviously broken when brought before him. If the law wasn't maintained, havoc would ensue.
"My friend, Peregrin Took," Frodo was saying, "has a very interesting story to tell the court. Pippin, please come up to the witness chair and share it with us."
Looking slightly bewildered, Pippin eased out of the bench and took his seat. He pushed his coppery curls from his eyes and gave his audience a smile. "Hullo," he said. "Hot, isn't it?"
"Get on with it," said Frodo through gritted teeth.
Pippin rolled his eyes. "All right, Frodo. Keep your pants on." Not, Frodo reflected, the best possible remark to be made at this time.
"My father, the Took," began Pippin, "owns a few hundred head of sheep in Tookland. Every year we sell the lambs throughout the four farthings, at a decent price too, because my dad only breeds the best. Sometimes, though, some of the rams don't, er, perform how we'd like them to, if you take my meaning. I'm sure the other farmers around here will tell you the same. So, um, you see, those rams don't seem to like the ewes. Some of them will even try to--" Pippin paused and glanced at Frodo. Frodo closed his eyes painfully and nodded. "--Mount other rams."
"So you see," said Frodo loudly over the uproar and weeping, "it can't be said it's entirely unnatural -- there's not much more natural than a herd of sheep."
Sam blinked, surprised. He'd heard that some rams were butchered because they didn't breed quality stock, but not because--
Pippin jumped into the seat next to Sam. "Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?" he whispered. "I don't think much is said about it by the farmers. My dad told me about it, though, because he said I'd have to learn that kind of thing when I become the Took. Frodo knew, too, because one day we saw it happen." Pippin looked sly. "In fact, he rather wanted to try it out, too."
Sam gave Pippin a quick look. He knew about Frodo and his cousins, and a few of the lasses, too. Frodo had confessed it all to Sam, after Sam was quite certain (after a delightful experience) that Frodo was not a virgin. Anyhow, Sam had had a few tumbles with Tom Cotton, and Rosie for that matter, so Sam didn't say aught more about it. Still, the thought of Frodo's lovely skin warming beneath somebody else's hands prickled him with jealously.
The room hushed as Frodo began to speak. "I know this is rather startling, but I think I've made a point: maybe it's not something you can control. The rams do not think, they follow their instincts. How can that be wrong? Maybe you can't choose who you will fall in love with, whether they be a lad or lass. I believe it's something your heart chooses, not your head." His eyes sought Sam's; he looked imploringly, all his love swirling around in a storm of glittering blue. "I love Sam," he continued quietly. "Even if he were a lass, I would want to spend my entire life with him, share every moment with him. It's nothing to be shunned or hidden away. It's a beautiful thing, lovelier than a winter snowfall. I love you, Sam."
Sam blinked hard, blood rushing to his cheeks. Frodo's eyes lingered on him, soft and happy. Sam stood up. "I love you too, Frodo Baggins," he said, and flew to the front of the court to pull Frodo into a tight hug.
TBC...