FrodoBaggins87: I am glad you found this interesting. :) Here's the second chapter. Enjoy!
Sweet-maiden-of-the-golden-ale: I shall continue longer than what I had originally planned (longer than 4 chapters). Hopefully this continues to captivate your attention. Enjoy!
Love Me, Please, Forever
Only One Can Be
October 23, 1388 S.R., 10:30 a.m.
Frodo sat next to Dahlia, covering her eyes with his hand. She gasped. "Frodo?" she asked, smiling widely. "Is that you?" She pulled his hands away and turned around. She could not help but to wrap her arms around him.
"Hullo!" he said, returning the embrace, but it was short-lived, for he pulled away, asking, "Is your father near?"
"No, he is, I believe, at home in the fields and my mum is at the market. They told me I could come and picnic by myself for elevenses." She knew the "by myself" part was not true, but she did not care at the moment.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, seating himself.
"Oh, Frodo! I was hoping you'd ask me." She pulled out a spare sandwich. "I thought you would be here today, so I packed an extra sandwich when no one was looking – and a spare cup."
Frodo smiled and accepted the sandwich, peeling back the paper that it was wrapped in. After taking a bite, he told her, "This is good, Dahlia."
"Thank you." She poured some water into a cup and pushed it toward him.
"And thank you."
The two sat in silence for a while. Dahlia finally broke the silence. Her voice wavered as she spoke. "Was there something you wanted to tell me yesterday when you came near me?"
Frodo blushed. "Yes, there was."
"What was it?" she asked, almost too eagerly.
"I – I…" He could not say it. Why? Suddenly, his mind was on Primrose. He shook his head.
"You what, Frodo?"
"I like you," he blurted out quickly and without thinking, due in part to his nervousness. Why could he not say that he loved her?
"And I you." She began to lean in, but Frodo pulled away. "Is something wrong?" Had he not said 'I love you' or had she misheard? She backed away.
"I can't." Frodo sighed. Once again, his mind had drifted to another lass, perhaps more beautiful than the one before him.
"Why not? Of course you can, silly!" She smiled, amused. "You're such a gentlehobbit."
"I can't. Not now, maybe not ever."
"Why not?" Dahlia persisted.
Frodo searched his mind quickly for facts he knew about her. "People will think poorly of it on my side of the –"
"Oh, you had better have a better reason than that!" she exclaimed, placing her index finger to his lips. He pulled away. "I know you, Frodo Baggins, and you aren't one t' care what others say about you."
Frodo searched his mind even deeper, and he stumbled across one that made him sick. "You are promised to Wilcome Took."
"He does not love me. You do. Tell me now, why is there no reason to kiss me? Any other lad would. In fact, a few other lads have tried but failed."
"Dahlia, I cannot let you get in trouble with your father. If he finds out –"
"Sh…If he finds out, we can marry and run off."
"Dahlia, no, I cannot do this. I respect you, and me kissing you would not be respecting you. Your first kiss should be with your husband." Frodo stood. "I cannot stay any longer. I need to go get ready to go somewhere."
"Frodo, please, stay. Don't let this drive you away," she pleaded.
"It's not this. It truly is that I had previous engagements made. Besides, here comes Wilcome Took now. Thank you for your time and the sandwich, Miss Bywater." He said the last part louder and bowed.
Wilcome was by them now. "You are welcome, Mr. Baggins." She let her eyes follow after Frodo for a little while until Wilcome sat beside her."
"What did that fool want, love?" he asked smugly.
"Will, would you draw some water from the stream, please?" she inquired, lowering her eyes to grab another sandwich out of her basket and pour him some of the little remaining water into the cup Frodo had used only moments earlier.
"Yes, my love," he said, standing.
11:00 a.m.
Frodo approached the marketplace, trying to keep from grimacing at the thought of meeting Primrose for luncheon, and on the banks of the Brandywine at that! How inconsiderate could she be? No matter, he would buy some flowers for her and wait for her at the waterfountain, which was on the way from her smial to the Brandywine.
He walked to a cart that held flowers of many kinds. "Hullo, Mrs. Bracegirdle. Nice to see you this fine day!"
"Aye, Master Baggins. May I be of service to ye, lad?" Mrs. Bracegirdle curtsied.
"Yes, ma'am. I need some flowers." His voice lowered, he added, "I have to go on a picnic with Primrose on the Brandywine banks."
"Oh, I see. Perhaps you should bring her primroses, eh?" She began to laugh at her own cleverness, knudging Frodo in the side, causing him to move away.
"No, perhaps something nicer that would not offend her, please." His tone was quite serious, causing Mrs. Bracegirdle to raise her eyebrow.
"Something nice for her? Do you –" she lowered her voice, as Frodo had before, "like that lass?" Frodo looked at her impatiently but remained silent. "Tsk, tsk. Frodo, you could do much better fer yerself, lad, much better. Any lass would love t' be seen a-hangin' on yer arm. After all, ye is a Baggins, and y' have an elven look 'bout ya, too. Why, my Daffodil over there would love t', and I heard the other day that Petunia Took would as well." During her gossip-laced speech, she had gathered from her cart a nosegay of flowers – carnations, lilac, and various shrubbery. "Here you are, lad," she conceded with a sigh. "That'll be two silver pennies, please."
Frodo gave her the money. "Now, you will be sure not to tell anyone, will you?" He knew she was one of the biggest gossips in town, and he did not want this particular bit of information going around.
Mrs. Bracegirdle gave an air of being hurt. "Now, dearie, why would I do such a thing? By me word of honor, I wouldn't never tell a single soul."
"I trust you. Good day." Frodo bowed and taking the flowers in his left hand, began to walk to the banks of the Brandywine.
12:05 p.m.
"Oh there you are, Frodo!" exclaimed Primrose while lacing her fingers through Frodo's and leading him to the picnic blanket. "Are these for me?" she asked upon noticing the flowers.
"Yes, they are." Frodo sat down on the opposite side of the blanket as the lass sniffed the boquet.
"They are very pretty, Frodo. Did you pick them out?" Finally, she sat.
"Well, not me exactly. I went to a cart and asked for something that would be suiting to you. I wanted them to be made just for you."
"Thank you, Frodo Baggins." Primrose opened the picnic basket and pulled out a couple of large bowls, two smaller bowls, two plates, silverware, a teakettle, and two cups. "Would you like some salad?" she offered.
Frodo accepted, eyeing the wilting leaves, careful not to show his disgust. How long ago had she packed this?
"And some stew?"
"Yes, please." As she unsealed the large bowl that contained it, Frodo could hardly keep himself from scrunching up his nose.
"Smells…good," he told her, knowing all too well that good was not the word to use. She handed him the bowl with a silver spoon and placed it before him. He forced himself to be brave enough to try the food. "It is good," he lied so that he did not hurt her feelings.
"Thank you," she replied, very amazed, but she smiled. No one but no one had ever complimented her on her own cooking before. In fact, everyone tried to avoid it all together. This is a good sign, she thought to herself as she put a small spoonful of soup in her mouth. "Eww!" she exclaimed, spitting it out. "Frodo, I am so sorry! You don't have to eat this. It's horrible!"
"I just thought it was your special recipe," he offered to try to console her.
"Oh Frodo!" she whined, throwing herself at him, placing her arms around his neck. He held her there, stroking her upper back. He hated to see a lass cry. "I'm so sorry. I wanted everything to be perfect, like you deserve." Her voice held a hint of the fact that she was crying.
"It's quite alright, Prim, quite alright. All that matters to me is that you tried. Look at me." Primrose pulled away and looked at him. "You can do anything you set your mind to, but some things need a little more work than others. My Aunt Esmeralda would be more than willing to teach you how to cook. How does that sound?"
"Good," she answered, dabbing her nose.
Frodo wiped a tear off her cheek. "Now, why don't we go find somewhere to eat?"
"Alright."
Frodo stood and helped Primrose stand. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. "It will be alright. The day is not ruined."
Primrose managed a smile and the two walked toward the nearest inn to eat. "Frodo, tell me the truth." Frodo looked down into her beautiful doe-eyes anxiously. "Do you care anything for me?"
Frodo opened his mouth as though he were about to answer, but he closed it again as Primrose began to explain herself. "You see, I know I am not exactly the most popular or well-liked lass in the Shire, and I know everyone hates me. I'm just wondering if you do."
Frodo looked away for a second, searching his heart. "I – I'm not sure if I feel anything more for you than as perhaps an acquaintance or a friend, but I most certainly do not hate you. Don't ever think such a thing."
"Thank you for being honest," she answered softly, her voice perhaps even held a hint of wistfulness. "I want to change, be like everyone else, but it is so hard. I know I act stuck up, but I don't know how."
"You are not acting stuck up right now. You're off to a good start." His voice was quiet.
4:07 p.m.
Finally, they reached the Green Dragon after having taken the long way toward it, quite the fault of Primrose who was trying to keep him all to herself. Frodo opened the door for her.
"Thank you, Frodo."
"You're welcome, Prim." He smiled at her.
"Welcome, Master Baggins; welcome! Miss Brandybuck," greeted the owner. "Come, sit here, sit here!"
Frodo and Primrose smiled at each other. Harry Bywater was always commedical when an old friend visited. He was always friendly, as though he always was having a good time. One was always surprised when news spread around that his family was going through a hard time.
"Now, what would you like, Miss Brandybuck?" Harry asked with a chuckle.
"May I have a salad and some tea, please?" she asked while sitting across from Frodo.
"Alright, and you, Master Baggins?"
"The same, if it's not too much to ask."
"No, it's good, Master Baggins."
"Thank you."
Harry walked off toward the bar.
They sat silently for a moment, unsure what to say to each other. "So," Frodo began, "what do you want to talk about?"
"Anything."
"Oh," Frodo answered, casting his eyes away.
"How is life with your Uncle Meradoc? I hear he is strict."
"Yes, he is, but at least he is giving me somewhere to stay. I think he only is though to maintain a status of being charitable. To tell you the truth, I rarely stay there during the day. I mostly go to my Uncle Saradoc's smial, especially on days such as yesterday." Frodo sighed.
"I see." Primrose propped her head on her hand for a moment. "What kind of things do you like to do?"
"Write, read, and swim," Frodo answered shortly. He was finding it difficult to talk to her.
"I like to read, too. What kind of books do you read?" she asked. She too was finding it more difficult than she would have imagined to talk to him.
"Tales of adventures. I mainly read books by the Tooks because of that, but I currently am corresponding with Bilbo to help him with his recording of his adventure."
"Bilbo Baggins? That old kook?" she asked with an air of surprise and disdain.
Frodo raised an eyebrow. Did the lass not know Bilbo Baggins was his cousin? But, he let her go on, curious as to what she would say.
"He lost his mind on that adventure, I hear folk say! Why would you correspond with the likes of him?"
"Give me a reason not to. He is my cousin, the only one to have shown much care, other than Meriadoc, as to my wellbeing since my parent's death. I see no reasoning but that which leans toward me spending time with him."
"I see." Maybe this lad was not all he was cut out to be, but she liked him. He was a gentlehobbit, he was cute, and he looked strong. His eyes were gorgeous; his stature was proper – most of the time. What was not to like? She cared not that he could be a little off his rocker by Shire standards. Everyone thought well of him. This fact would be just between them. "Frodo, would you care to go for a walk after we eat? I love to walk under the moonlight. It is so romantic!"
Frodo looked away. "No, actually I had other plans."
"Other plans? Like what? Not that it is any of my business." She played with her fork.
"Nothing that you need to know about," he said, for it was true. He did not want her or anyone to know his plans for this evening. He would be in trouble with his Uncle Meradoc if he were to find out, which he most certainly would if Frodo told Primrose.
"Oh, a surprise, for me?" she asked, leaning closer, a smile on her face.
"Y-yes," he replied, leaning out of the way. What was she doing?
"Frodo, you do know your uncle has promised you to me, right?"
"No, actually, I did not." Frodo was bewildered. Why had his uncle done that? He did not see any reasoning in that. Meradoc always wanted his way in everyone's lives, especially when his wife had anything to do with the matter.
"Well, he did, so you do not have to surprise me with a proposal, for I would not be surprised." She leaned closer. "You can ask me now."
Of all the nerve! He was feeling pressured. "I- I have to go." Frodo stood and quickly placed a few silver pennies on the table for her to pay for her meal with before running as far away from that place as possible.
"Why, Miss Brandybuck, where is Frodo off to?" asked Harry with a surprised look.
But Primrose looked at him slyly, her face slightly flushed. "He had some business to attend to," she said softly, while waving a signal to two hooded figures.
Well, that's chapter 2. Chapter 3 is still in progress. I hope to post that soon.