Notes to Readers:
Please be sure to leave a review! They are very motivating, and each review you
leave entitles you to a free cup of cyber-tea in the parlour (The Muse and I do
try to make our guests feel welcome). What you are seeing here is the edited draft.
(Thanks to my editor who prefers to work behind the scenes.)
Thanks for the comments! How do you like your tea?
Sorry about the delay in posting. Computer problems is cleared up, for the
nonce.
Bookworm, aha, good detective work often involves remembering something you've
heard before!
Aemilia, *wink* I think you are on to something.
Xena, it is hard to imagine a father disowning a child for marrying against his
wishes, isn't it? And yet I have read about it happening in olden days.
Another chapter of "Runaway" is in the works and you'll see it as soon as we
can get it finished. We are stalled at the moment. The demands of this season
have hijacked the schedule and very little writing is being done. (Good thing
"Small and Passing Thing" is already written!) Expect another chapter of "Small
and Passing Thing" day after tomorrow, if all goes well. Thank you for your
patience.
***
Chapter 14. Pouncing on Fredegar
By the time Anise Grubb returned to the Cotton Farm just before sunrise, they'd
managed to get several teacups' worth of good food—apple compote, custard, and
lightly scrambled eggs with minced bacon mixed in—into Fredegar. She pronounced
herself satisfied, told them to keep up the good work, and promised to return
later that day. Rosamunda arose from her bed, all the better for the rest, and
was able to greet her son with a smile and some breakfast.
'Are you tiring of milk toast, my love?' she asked fondly. Freddy closed his
eyes in exasperation and his mother chuckled. 'Yes, dearie,' she said. 'We are
feeding you again, so you might as well eat it up quickly, if you want time to
rest between feedings.'
When he'd finished, she stroked his hair back from his forehead. 'You're as
shaggy as a sheep in the springtime,' she murmured, and he winced, his look
turning inwards again. 'Don't go away like that, Freddy-lad,' she said sharply.
'Freddy!'
'What's wrong, cousin Rosa?' Frodo said, entering the room with a tray. Putting
the tray down, he proceeded to pour out tea for the two of them.
'He's gone off again,' Rosamunda said. 'I mentioned him needing a haircut and
he went away. I cannot seem to bring him back.'
'At least he won't wriggle when you cut his hair,' Frodo said practically. 'Do
you remember the time I visited, and Estella awakened before the rest of the
household and gave Freddy and me haircuts as we slept?' He'd worn a cap for
days afterward, refusing to take it off even when chided for rudeness by old
Master Rorimac.
He poked Freddy. 'Freddy, you do remember Estella's skill with shears,
do you not?' Freddy moved irritably, but at least he was attending to the
conversation. Frodo and Rosamunda sat quietly conversing until Mistress Cotton
appeared with a covered cup.
'Here we are!' she carolled, 'Lovely coddled eggs mixed up with a bit of
buttered toast.'
Frodo poked Freddy again. 'Wakey, wakey!' he said cheerily. 'That's what Pippin
always says when he wants to annoy me.'
'It's a traditional phrase amongst the Tooks,' Rosamunda said dryly.
'Leave me be,' Freddy whispered, turning his face away.
'Well,' Frodo said, raising his eyebrows. 'We got three words out of him that
time. I think he's improving!' He reached for cup and spoon. 'If I may, Mrs
Cotton...'
'Be my guest,' Mrs Cotton smiled, handing him the cup. 'I've a cock-a-leekie
soup wanting my attention at the moment!' She nodded to Rosamunda and left the
room.
'All right, cousin,' Frodo said. 'You've a name to regain and a reputation to
live up to. Where would the gossips of the Shire be without a "Fatty Bolger" to
toast with their teacups, eh? Just think, you haven't sent Merry a waggonload
of apples in months!'
Rosamunda smiled at Frodo's nonsense, even as he badgered and bullied Freddy
into eating the entire cupful of food.
So it went through the day. When Odovacar returned from Tuckborough at teatime,
he was surprised to see his son taking solid food, even if it required patient
coaxing on Samwise's part.
'Come, Master Freddy,' the gardener said. 'My old gaffer grew these potatoes
himself, and Rosie has done them to a turn, I'll have you know. Don't you let
them go to waste!' He looked up and rose hastily. 'Good day, Mr Bolger,' he
said formally.
Odo waved him back to his chair. 'Sit down; it looks as if you're doing a fine
job.'
Sam sat back down and brought another spoonful of creamy potatoes mixed with
melting cheese to Freddy's mouth. 'He's doing all the work, sir,' he said. And
hard work he is making of it, he added to himself. He acts as if we're
tormenting him with each mouthful.
Rosamunda entered with a kiss for her husband. 'Where's Estella?' she asked.
He returned the kiss, then put his arm around her. He'd had a long ride from
Tuckborough to decide exactly what he was going to say in Fredegar's presence.
'The Tooks have put her away for safekeeping,' he said, 'and with ruffians
still to be found in the Shire, they're a bit too busy to fetch her back
again.'
'More pity the Tooks,' Frodo said, coming in. 'I don't know what's worse, a few
score of ruffians to hunt down, or Estella set amongst them like a cat amongst
the pigeons.'
'What in the world do you mean?' Rosamunda asked, and Frodo laughed.
'She likes to pounce on people,' he said simply. 'Take it from me, I've been
pounced upon plenty!' The Bolgers laughed, remembering notable occasions, and
even Freddy smiled faintly, a fact that did not escape Frodo's notice.
'Just as well the Tooks are sitting on her somewhere,' he continued. 'Were she
here, she'd probably bounce Freddy right out of the bed and into mischief.'
'No doubt,' Freddy whispered, and his parents exchanged hopeful glances.
'You're looking much better than when last I saw you, son,' Odo said. 'I think
we'll stay here a few days at the Cottons' if you don't mind.'
'I don't mind,' Freddy answered, his voice growing stronger, 'if only they'd
leave off stuffing my face every hour of the day.' He sounded more the old
Freddy, in tone if not in words, and Frodo felt a tightness ease inside of
himself.
'That'll continue until you're back on your feet, so you might as well set your
mind to making a quick recovery,' Frodo said with a mock scowl, hands on his
hips.
'Just one more bite,' Samwise broke in, hefting the spoon. Freddy reached for
it with his right hand, noticing the bandages as if for the first time. 'Let
me, Mr Freddy,' Sam said, popping the spoon into Fredegar's mouth.
Freddy chewed and swallowed. 'What mischief have I done to my hand?' he asked.
'You've broken some fingers,' Frodo answered. 'Don't you remember?'
Freddy furrowed his brow. 'No,' he admitted. 'Everything seems to be foggy at
the moment.'
'It'll all come clear to you in time,' Frodo said. He shook his head slightly
at Odo and Rosa. Now is not the time. They nodded at the tacit warning
and Rosamunda sat down, taking Freddy's left hand in her own, directing the
conversation to safer matters.
The healer was very happy to find Freddy lucid and no longer refusing food,
though he still did not ask for anything, being content to be fed whatever they
brought him. He meekly accepted each spoonful without enthusiasm, but at least
he was eating.
'Why should I ask for anything?' he said to Frodo after Anise Grubb had taken
her leave. 'You're just going to bring me more in an hour or so anyhow.'
'Right you are, cousin!' Frodo said, patting Freddy's good hand. 'Right you
are, at that!' He stretched and yawned. 'Well I think I will take myself off
for another nap!' he said. 'This business of being a new father is exhausting,
what with being up all hours of the night to feed the babe, and all!'
'Waaah,' Freddy said, in creditable imitation of a newborn, and Frodo laughed.
'You sound as if you're nearly back to yourself,' he said approvingly.
'I am,' Freddy retorted, 'so why don't the lot of you stop badgering me and let
me get some rest?'
'Hah,' Frodo said. 'Your problem is that you haven't had enough badgering
lately, and so we are going to badger you until you're all recovered and fat as
you ever were, or my name isn't Frodo Baggins!'
'It's not,' Freddy said.
'Eh? What was that?' Frodo asked, confused.
'It's "Mayor Frodo", and don't you forget it,' Freddy said.
'You did hear me and Merry talking last night!' Frodo said. 'I thought
you were asleep!'
'How a body could sleep with the two of you jabbering away, I'd like to know,'
Freddy grumbled.
'You may call me "Deputy Mayor Frodo", or "Deputy Mayor", or simply "Your
Excellancy" will do,' Frodo said with dignity.
'Just don't call him late to supper,' Sam said, and Freddy looked at him in
astonishment. He couldn't recall ever hearing Sam put together an entire
sentence before, without stammering and blushing.
'Are you the same Samwise Gamgee who gardens up at Bag End?' he said.
'That I am,' Sam said calmly.
'He's grown a bit,' Frodo said. 'After killing a nasty spider on our journeys,
there's not much that can cow our Samwise.'
'A nasty spider, eh?' Freddy said. 'Next time I find one on the wall, I'll know
whom to call upon to deliver me from my peril.'
'You do that, Mr Freddy,' Sam said equably. 'I'd be happy to pull a few weeds
whilst I'm at it.'
'Always ready to be of service, our Sammy is,' Freddy said. He sighed. 'I think
I'll take myself a nap, as well,' he said. Rosamunda obligingly pulled several
pillows out from behind him so that he could lie down and snuggle into the
cushions on the bed.
'You do that,' Frodo echoed, patting him on the shoulder. He rose and gave
Rosamunda a kiss on the cheek. 'I'll be up for the midnight feeding,' he said.
'You can count on me.'
He chuckled as he left the room, hearing Freddy's 'One, two, three, four...'
behind him.
