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.)

Xena, such high words of praise! Thank you! *** One can certainly understand how Estella wormed information out of Freddy; seems to run in the family. As to what happens when Freddy goes home, only time will tell.

Aemilia, this story ends before Pippin's illness in "Jewels" begins.

Bookworm, excellent quote! I am often reminded of Gandalf's words when I am writing about hobbits.

Runaway Update: The last chapter is written! Now we just need to finish the in-between material—two chapters? Not quite sure yet. So many stories write themselves with ease, but "Runaway" seems to be the story that wants to play hide and seek. I am posting the current chapter as soon as I finish with this posting of "Small and Passing Thing".

Expect another chapter of "Small and Passing Thing" in a day or three, if all goes well. My editor is helping me whip the thing into shape, chapter by chapter.

I have begun posting the chapters of "Shire" interspersed with chapters from this story from now on, as long as ffnet and my editor cooperate.

***

Chapter 38. Fond Farewell

Marigold had stopped by to invite Rose and "Tillie" to tea. When Estella brought Freddy's breakfast tray back to the kitchen, the two friends were washing up and chatting merrily.

'O Tillie!' Marigold cried. 'I've been waiting for you to come! Here, put this apron on and you can put away whilst Rose washes and I dry, or—would you prefer to wash?'

'I'll put away,' Estella said. She wound herself in an apron and took up the dishes as quickly as Marigold could dry them, listening to the girls' chatter in silence.

Marigold turned to Estella, finally, saying, '...and if you could choose any hobbit at all to marry, who would it be?'

'That would be telling,' Rose giggled. Estella did not join the gaiety on this occasion, however, simply turning a cool eye on the others, who sobered abruptly and exchanged uneasy glances.

'Tillie? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend...' Marigold fumbled, but Estella hugged her, plate, dish towel and all.

'No offense, Marigold, it is simply that I'm not—not allowed to engage in such foolishness.'

Rose flushed and Estella hastened to explain. 'My parents already have my husband picked out for me. I have known about the agreement for, o, these three or four years now. I shall marry to the advantage of my family, a husband befitting the daughter of the Bolger of Bridgefields.'

'Whom are you to marry?' Marigold asked slowly.

Estella dropped her eyes. 'I do not know,' she admitted. 'There's some problem or other, and my parents will tell me only when the contract is finalised.'

'Contract?' Rose sputtered. 'You're to be sold like—like a pony? Or a piece of land?'

'You do not have your choice?' Marigold said, her head whirling. She could not imagine such a thing.

'It is not so bad as all that,' Estella said smoothly. 'My parents are wise; I trust them to choose a hobbit who is kind and loving, of generous heart and good character. With the fortune that was settled upon me at my birth, I would hate to have to try to discern a hobbit who loved me for myself from one who only thought of the dowry I'd bring.'

Rose and Marigold exchanged glances once again. Estella spoke so matter-of-factly about fortune and a marriage not of her own choosing. They'd forgotten for a time, seeing her dressed like a farm lass, joining whole-heartedly in the work, laughing and joking and singing, that she came from a different world than they knew.

'Would it—could it be Merry Brandybuck, perhaps?' Rose asked. She knew Estella had feelings for him; she'd seen the look in the girl's eyes. Now she realised that Estella had not concealed her interest to be coy but for other reasons.

'No,' Estella said lightly. 'No, my brother is to marry a Brandybuck, so it falls to my lot to marry a Took more likely than not.' She seized the cup that Marigold had been drying and hung it neatly on its hook. 'Come now, let us finish this task or it will be time for elevenses before second breakfast is put away!'

They set to their work with a will, singing so sweetly that Freddy and Frodo, sitting in Freddy's room, fell silent to listen and did not resume their game of Kings until the song ended with the task.

'That was marvellous!' Marigold laughed, hanging up her apron. 'We shall have to sing that one for my old gaffer. You are coming to tea with Rosie, are you not?' she asked Estella.

'No,' Estella answered. 'I am so sorry, but I cannot. You see, I'll be going away.'

'Going away?' Rose echoed. 'Are your parents taking you back to Bridgefields?'

'No, not quite,' Estella said. 'But I will not be able to play anymore, to walk to market with a basket on my arm or even take tea with the Gaffer.' She held out a hand to Marigold. 'It has been so nice to know you, Mari. I shall never forget our friendship.'

Marigold flew at her with a hug. 'Nor shall I,' she said decidedly. 'You will come back to visit us, won't you?'

Estella hesitated. 'I cannot promise anything,' she said. 'My brother has reminded me that it is time to set the holidays behind and take up my duties once again.' She smiled wistfully at Rose. 'O but it has been good to be a part of your family, if only for a little.'

Rose joined the hug. 'I shall miss you,' she said with a sniff.

'Now don't cry,' Estella said, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing at Rose's face. 'We knew this could not last forever and that I would have to go some time.'

'When are you going?' Marigold said.

'I should be gone by teatime,' Estella said, 'so we had better make our farewells now. I shall always remember you with love.' Her voice quivered as she added, 'Bless you both.' She took a deep breath and steadied her voice with an effort. 'I hope you will be very happy with your hobbits... and Rose, I've no doubt at all that Samwise will speak one of these days. I only hope he deserves you.'

At tea in the Gamgee's ramshackle house, scheduled to be pulled down as soon as the new Number Three was ready, Rose and Marigold talked about Estella's revelation. 'You know, I used to envy those girls in the marketplace with their fine gowns and elegant silk and lace and servants following them about carrying things,' Marigold said. 'But now...'

'I know what you mean,' Rose said. 'I wouldn't trade with one of them for anything!'

'Besides,' Marigold said slyly, 'you know that Samwise would never speak to you, were you one of the gentry.'

'He may never speak to me as it is,' Rose said glumly and Marigold hastened to hug her friend and reassure her.

'He's just waiting to finish his tasks,' she said. 'He's traipsing all over the Shire planting trees you know. He won't speak until he uses up the last of the dust that fine Lady gave him.'

'I hope he uses it up quick then,' Rose said. 'I'd pour it all out if I could!'

'You just wait. Once he gets our old gaffer settled in a proper hobbit hole and sees Mr Frodo all comfortable-like in Bag End—'

'—and gets his trees all planted,' Rose said dryly.

'And that!' Marigold laughed. 'And perhaps sees me married off to some good hobbit in the bargain—'

'Perhaps I can light a fire under Tom,' Rose offered.

'You do that,' Marigold said. 'Sam's not the only hobbit who's slow to speak!' Just then old Hamfast Gamgee returned from inspecting the progress of his new hobbit hole, and talk turned to such proper topics as taters and tea.

Rose returned from tea with Marigold in time to bring Mr Freddy's supper to him in his room. To her surprise, Estella had not left after all but was sitting with her brother. However, she'd left off the plain dress and kerchief. She was dressed as Rose had never seen her since the girl had returned from Tookland, in a fine gown trimmed with lace, her hair done up much as she'd done Rose's and Marigold's hair for the Yuletide celebration.

Before she could utter a friendly greeting Mr Freddy spoke. 'Ah Rose,' he said. 'Miss Estella will require a tray as well, if you wouldn't mind. She's agreed to take her supper here with me this evening.'

'Yes sir,' Rose said. She went to the kitchen, fixed a tray for Estella, and returned.

'Thank you, Rose,' Estella said, taking the tray. Her tone was cool, elegant, impersonal. 'We will let you know when you may clear away.'

'Thank you miss,' Rose said automatically and stumbled away in confusion. She was upset and angry; whatever did Estella mean, putting on airs that way?

'Why whatever's the matter, Rose?' Mrs Cotton asked as her daughter returned to the kitchen.

'O nothing, rather, my head aches,' Rose said, sniffing back tears.

'Ah,' Mrs Cotton said. 'Then why don't you take yourself off to bed early this evening, child. I'll do the washing up and fetch the trays.'

'Where's Mr Frodo?' Rose asked.

'It seems that aching heads are all too common this night,' Mrs Cotton said with a troubled look. 'He took himself off to bed early, saying he wasn't hungry.' She sighed. 'He did a fair sight of writing, closed himself up in his room nearly all the day after sitting with Mr Freddy at second breakfast. I do hope he didn't overdo: Samwise would be quite put out were he here.' Sam was off on his forestry work again and wouldn't be back for a fortnight.

'I could take him a tray,' Rose volunteered, forgetting her excuse for a moment.

'No dearie, I peeked in on him whilst you were taking supper to Mr Freddy; he's sound asleep,' her mother said. 'I'll bring him something light when he wakens. You take yourself off to bed. If your head still bothers you I'll bring you some tea later.'

'Thank you mum,' Rose said and obediently took herself off. She actually did fall asleep, sleeping soundly the night through, wakening before any of the household. She got up, splashed water on her face and arms, slipped her dress on, and decided to go start the fire in the kitchen for her mother.

Creeping down the hallway she heard a soft sound and stood stock still, trying to identify its source. Finally in front of the door to Estella's room she realised she was hearing muffled sobs. When she knocked quietly the sound stopped.

'Tillie?' she whispered, then remembered. Tillie was gone. 'Miss Estella? Is there anything you'd be needing?'

'No,' Estella called back softly after a moment's silence. 'No, I have all I require. Thank you, Rose.'