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, if the last chapter left you sad, I imagine this one might leave you thoughtful. Amazing what I came up when researching class and social status.

Runaway Update: Runaway is finished! It came in at 34 chapters. Another chapter will be posted to ff.net as soon as my editor is finished with it.

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 39. Of People and Places

Samwise arrived on the wings of an icy freeze that swept across the Shire as it usually did after the January thaw. He stopped in to check on his old gaffer, fearing he'd find the old hobbit shivering in the badly-built house, but the Cottons had hauled a waggonload of firewood, already split and ready to burn, to his door and piled it outside. With a roaring fire in the stove, extra blankets found in the ruffians' gatherings nailed to the walls, and no worry of running short of wood, Hamfast and Marigold kept warm despite the freezing temperatures outside.

Sam stayed long enough for a quick but warming cup of tea and then jumped back in the waggon and turned the pony's head towards the Cottons' farm. He was a bit worried at having left Mr Frodo for so long, though he'd come back from his other tree-planting efforts to a master who was to all appearances healthy, well-fed, and content.

His fears were justified. He found his master with the Bolger cousins in the Cottons' parlour, discussing the latest pages of the Story. Frodo was noticeably thinner to Sam's eyes, fresh as they were from his being gone a little more than a fortnight. There were faint shadows under his master's eyes, and a small tremor in the fingers of the right hand, hardly perceptible to anyone but Sam, perhaps.

In his shock he said more forcibly than he might've otherwise, 'What have you been doing to yourself? Shutting yourself up, writing, neglecting your meals and your sleep?'

'Samwise,' Frodo said gently, holding up a restraining hand.

Freddy glanced sharply from Samwise to Frodo. 'He has been writing an awful lot since returning from Tookland,' he said slowly. 'Don't let him tell you differently, Sam.'

'I am well,' Frodo insisted. 'I just want to get as much down as I can whilst it's fresh in my mind. I promise, I'll take tonight off, eat a good supper, go to bed early.'

'I certainly hope so,' Sam said, still upset.

'Samwise, my good fellow, would you mind bothering Mrs Cotton for a cup of tea? I find I cannot wait the hour or so before supper is served, but am perishing for a cup at this very moment,' Freddy said smoothly.

'I'd be happy to, Mr Freddy,' Sam said, then fixed Frodo with a stern look. 'You go lie yourself down, Mr Frodo. Take a rest. I'll call you when supper is served.'

Estella had watched the little scene with growing astonishment and now saw her cousin meekly nod and say, 'I do believe I will, Samwise, thank you.'

When she was alone with Freddy, she looked back to find her brother regarding her with amusement. 'If you were a cat, you'd be all puffed out, your tail thrice its normal size,' he drawled.

'How can—how can our illustrious cousin allow his—' Estella was at a loss for words.

'—his gardener to speak to him with such cheek?' Freddy finished for her.

'Exactly!' Estella said. 'Why, you certainly scolded me roundly for being too familiar with Rose and Mari, and now you don't bat an eye—'

'Samwise would jump down a dragon's throat for Frodo,' Freddy interrupted. 'Probably already has, though I haven't read about it yet.' He tapped the untidy pile of papers threatening to slide off the sofa.

'But—' Estella said.

'He's not just a gardener, our Samwise is not.' Freddy went on. 'He was wearing mail when he first returned, and he's got a grey cloak like Frodo's, finer than anything I've ever seen woven by hobbits, and he only recently left off wearing a sword, when he was sure no more ruffians remained in the Shire to menace his beloved master.'

'Very well, we'll grant that Samwise is more of a companion than a gardener; he's risen as high as a secretary, perhaps,' Estella said.

'Perhaps "nursemaid" is closer to the truth,' Freddy said dryly.

In spite of herself, Estella laughed. 'He does remind me of a governess,' she said. 'Fussing at the children to wear their jumpers when it's brisk and eat all their vegetables.' She sobered again, turning a hard look on her brother. 'So why am I not allowed friendship with Rosie and Mari anymore?' She took a deep breath. 'For that matter, I've never heard you chide Pippin Took the way you chided me...'

'That's different,' Freddy said.

'How is it different?' Estella said, an edge of frustration in her tone. 'He's the son of the Thain, isn't he? Yet he's allowed to be friendly with Samwise and the Cottons and any number of other hobbits.'

'He was the son of a farmer up until a few years ago,' Freddy said. 'We have to make allowances until he learns his place.'

'Learns his place,' Estella said bleakly. 'Just as I must learn mine?'

Freddy covered her hand with his. 'It is difficult to grow up, I know,' he said. 'I put it off myself for years. But we cannot be children, playing with the servants' children, any longer. We have a duty and a responsibility—'

'Why?' Estella said. 'You know, the only good thing about living under the ruffians was that all hobbits were in the same mess. We had to help each other to survive. There were no "great hobbits" and "common hobbits", there were just hobbits! Why do we have to go back to the way it was before?'

'Because it has been that way for more time than anyone can remember,' Freddy said.

' "It has always been that way"—a specious excuse!' Estella snapped.

'It works,' Freddy said simply. 'We all know our places, we stick in them, and the Shire works. You know it does, Estella, you know that I have the right of it.'

'No I don't know anything of the sort,' Estella said, but then Samwise returned with a cup of tea for Freddy and another for Estella.

'Thank you, Samwise,' Freddy said. 'Most obliging of you.'

'Happy to be of service, sir,' Sam said. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just check on Mr Frodo.'

'Go right ahead,' Freddy answered. Samwise nodded to Freddy, bowed to Estella and left the parlour.

'You see, he's "happy to be of service",' Freddy said. 'He knows his place and is comfortable in it, and if you try to push him out of it he's likely to bite.'

'Bite?' Estella said.

'Well, perhaps not "bite",' Freddy said thoughtfully. 'But he'll settle deeper into his garden bed like the rock that he is. I've even heard him correct Frodo, so-very-subtly, when our cousin has been overly familiar.'

'No,' Estella said, 'I don't believe it.'

'O yes,' Freddy nodded. 'Listen carefully, Estella. You said yourself, he sounds like a governess correcting a wilful child. Just because he's of a lower class does not mean he is actually lower—why, I believe he has more influence over Frodo than I do, and I'm Frodo's kin!'

'But—' Estella said.

'Drink your tea, sister,' Freddy said. 'After all, Samwise went to the trouble to bring it for you.' And that was all the answer she was able to get from him on the subject.

***

Estella did listen carefully over the next few days. She noticed that Frodo meekly allowed Sam to bully him into eating and resting, though he insisted on spending several hours each afternoon writing. Frodo allows himself to be managed, she thought in wonder. She remembered the servants back home who managed herself and her parents. They had a certain measure of power that they might not have had otherwise. It was a puzzle. She still did not understand why her friendship with Rose and Marigold was wrong, until finally she asked Frodo, when she brought him a cup of tea one afternoon.

'It is to protect them, not yourself, midge,' Frodo said, putting down his pen and rubbing at his eyes.

'Protect them?' she asked.

'They might be accused of "putting on airs" or thinking too much of themselves,' Frodo said quietly. 'I've seen it happen before. We're curious folk. We know our places, and we resent it when we see someone try to move out of his place, to claim a freedom that we ourselves are unwilling to sacrifice to attain.'

'I don't understand,' Estella said slowly. Frodo patted her hand.

'You will someday, cousin. You've a good head on your shoulders. Don't ever let anyone tell you that your sphere in life is an ornamental one.'

'My parents don't believe that at all,' Estella flared. 'They are training me to oversee the running of a great hole one day. Let me tell you, it is no easy matter!'

'You don't have to tell me,' Frodo said. 'I lived for twenty-one years in Brandy Hall after all. Thinking back, I wondered how so many hobbits could live together in such harmony—most of the time—but I realise now that it was mostly due to good management on the part of the Mistress.' He rubbed at his eyes again.

'Are you tired, cousin?' Estella said solicitously. 'Let me wring out a cloth in cold tea and lay it over your eyes. You drink your tea and then lie yourself down. I shall return shortly.'

When she returned, Frodo was writing again, his tea going cold, forgotten on the edge of the desk. 'Frodo!' she scolded. 'I thought you were going to lie down!'

'I just wanted to get this little bit done, cousin,' Frodo said, but then Samwise spoke up from the doorway.

'It is time to rest, Mr Frodo. Your cousin's right. You've been pegging away for hours now.' He stepped into the room, took the pen right out of Frodo's hand, wiped it and set it down. 'Come along, sir, lie down on the bed and let Miss Estella lay that cloth over your eyes. You'll feel all the better for it.'

Frodo sighed but obediently sought his pillow. Estella wrung out the tea-soaked cloth in the basin and laid it over his eyes, then began to gently soothe his forehead with her fingertips. Soon he was asleep.

'Thank you, Samwise,' she said sofly.

'You're most welcome, Miss,' he said. 'I'll just take myself off and see if Mr Freddy needs anything.'

Estella nodded. Managing ways indeed: the gardener would probably have Freddy taking a nap as well, though her brother had given up naps in recent days. Samwise certainly knew his place.