TITLE: Dances With Uncles
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

Disclaimer: I don't own The Springle-Ring, Frodo, Bilbo, Eglantine, Paladin, Pippin, Merry, Sam, or Hamfast- But I do own their clones! Mwahaha, the power!

SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…
RATING: G
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

Chapter 6: Black Is The Colour Of My True Love's Hair

On Foreyule the 29th, and 6:00 AM, precisely, Frodo left his home to go on his daily trip to the market. He padded down the front steps, and was about to walk to the front gate, when a hand grabbed his leg from the bushes. Frodo cried out and fell backwards into the bushes on the other side of the steps. He stayed there, expecting some crazed hobbit to jump out from the bushes. Instead, the old head of Hamfast, Bilbo's gardener and Sam's father, popped up from them. Frodo sighed, relieved that it was only him. 'O, hello, Hamfast.' Frodo breathed, his heart about to burst from his chest. Hamfast laughed a cheerful belly-laugh.

'Heh, sorry I frighted ye, there, Frodo. Hope I didn't traumatize you, lad.' Hamfast apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

'No…' Frodo assured, still a little breathless. 'What are you doing, going about and grabbing people from bushes?'

'Well, I am the gardener, son. That's why I was in the bush,' Hamfast explained, opening and closing his sheers. 'Anyways, I saw you a-comin' out o' the house and I wanted to give you somethin' before you went on yer daily walk, since I figured you hadn't eaten yet.' Hamfast said, reaching into his burlap sack and pulling two fat, red apples from the grain inside, putting them on the porch so Frodo could reach for them. 'They're the last of the harvest.' He said, nodding as if he were reassuring himself.

'Thank you.' Frodo said, reaching over and taking the apples, stuffing them in his pockets. He indeed had not eaten breakfast, though he wasn't very hungry, but he thought it kind of the gardener to think of him.

'Any time.' Hamfast said, smiling and returning to his hedge clipping.

Frodo nodded with a smile, wrapping his scarf round and round his neck as the cold catching up with him. 'Farewell, Ham. I'll see you later, I'm hoping." Frodo said, getting out of the bush and walking out into the yard, then the road, walking away towards his inevitable destination.

Little by little, the barren roadside began to fill with generous-sized smíals. Frodo stopped at a rather large smíal with a round red door and black windowpanes: The Chubb residence.

Frodo drew in a breath. This was where Gypsophila Chubb lived, along with her father, Hogo, her mother, Calamintha, her sisters, Bergenia, Clivia, and Hepatica, as well as her only brother, the fourteen-year-old, Mimo.

As luck would have it, the door unexpectedly swung open and out stepped Gypsophila, walking towards the gate. She was dressed in a black bodice, a creamy-white chemise, and a scarlet skirt. Wrapped about her shoulders was a small black shawl. She dreamily sang a song to herself as she stepped up to the mailbox, only inches away from Frodo.

Frodo gulped. Using all the strength he could conjure up, he let out a miniscule, 'Hello, Gypsophila.' She looked up and her startling bright green eyes met his blue orb-like ones.

'O… Hello, uh… Frodo, is it?' She asked, tucking behind her ear a strand of abundantly-curled black hair that had escaped from her low ponytail.

'Yes. That's me. Frodo. Fro-o-odo Baggins. Yep.' Frodo said awkwardly, cracking a nervous smile, which made him look like a wounded, rabies-infected deer that was about to be run over by a carriage. He'd spoken to Gypsy before, but they never really got past 'Hello'.

'Uh-huh…' She said, trying desperately not to laugh… and failing miserably.

"O, brilliant, Frodo, now she thinks you're a joke!" Frodo thought, slapping his forehead as punishment as colour rose in his cheeks.

'O, begging your pardon. I didn't mean to laugh. It's sort of a bad habit, I suppose.' Gypsophila said, shrugging her shoulders diffidently. She then decided to start over. 'I've heard much about you and your cousin, Bilbo. His story sounds interesting: Going to a large volcanic mountain with a troop of Dwarves and a wizard and facing certain death by the claws of a dragon to get some stolen treasure that belonged to the Dwarves. Well, that's a lot more interesting than my life!' She admitted, shocking Frodo.

'Your father sells… candles in the market, right? I think I've seen you around there some time or another. Candle-making sounds-… interesting!' Frodo worded shyly, but gaining a little more confidence. Gypsophila snorted.

'Bah, dad's job is boring. I just tote about there since most of my friends live around the place. I think I saw you in the market a couple of days ago, accompanied by three children. I think it's sweet the way you let them hang around you. That show's that you either love children, or you just didn't notice them.' Gypsy said, her rosy lips curling into a smile. Frodo couldn't help but smile himself.

'Yeah, I like children-I mean, I'm not crazy about them, but I enjoy their company and all.' Frodo said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and feeling the apples within. Taking them out, he brushed some lint off of one and inspected it with the precision of a scientist looking for new life.

'Is that an apple?' Gypsophila asked. 'I love apples, and they're so hard to come by this time of year.'

'Well, my uncle's gardener is a master at preservation, so we get to have the harvest fruits for a long time. It's a wondrous thing, really. Would you like one?' Frodo said, holding the other, non-lint-covered one out to her. She quickly took it.

'Thank you.' She said, taking a small, savouring bite. There were high-pitched giggles heard from behind them. Looking to the smíal, Frodo and Gypsy saw all three of Gypsy's sisters standing there.

'Hiya, Frodo!' Bergenia, the lanky, black-haired nineteen-year-old called out mock-dreamily, wiggling her stubby fingers at him in a childish wave.

'How's it goin'?' Hepatica, the overly-fat, coal-eyed twenty-year-old giggled, flashing a big-toothed grinned. Frodo answered with a queer look.

'I've heard he speaks Elvish.' said Clivia, the red-headed eighteen-year-old.

'O, how romantic!' Bergenia sighed, falling backwards into Clivia's arms.

'Say something! Say something in Elvish!' Hepatica demanded excitedly, bouncing up and down (not a particularly pretty sight).

'Girls…' Gypsy scolded, taking her turn to blush. Frodo just rolled his eyes.

'Mae Govannen, Tûgier. Elen lanta lúmenn' omentielvo.' Frodo quipped in his smoothest voice possible, addressing Hepatica.

'O, that's so beautiful!' Bergenia sighed, feigning a swoon and resting her back against the house.

Gypsy sighed and bent down slowly, scooping up a handful of small stones from the ground as she put her apple in her apron pocket. Suddenly, to Frodo's (and the sisters Chubb's) surprise, Gypsy began to chuck the rocks at her sisters like a catapult, one rock after the other, one sister at a time. The girls screeched and ran into the house the house. Gypsophila calmly wiped her hands on her apron, turning around to face Frodo.

'Could you get the mail out of our mailbox, please?' She sighed breathlessly, smoothing her hair.

Frodo nodded perplexedly. 'Certainly.' Frodo said, walking nonchalantly over to the barrel-shaped mailbox and taking out five letters. Gypsophila quickly took them from him. 'Are all those for you?'

'Mm-hm.' Gypsophila said, flipping through the different envelopes, each one getting a look of disapproval, one even received a antagonistic "O, him again!".

Suddenly, the two conversers were disrupted when the red door of the smíal smacked open and out stepped Gypsy's mother, in all her red-faced, wide-bodied glory. A weeping Clivia accompanied her.

'O. I think I'm in trouble.' Gypsy droned apathetically.

'Gypsophila Chubb! You get you hindquarters in here THIS INSTANT!' Calamintha Chubb bellowed with a hard stamp of her foot, eyes nearly popping from her head.

'Well, that's my cue. I've got to go- See you at the Yule Festival, I hope- Thanks for the apple- Ta!' Gypsophila rushed, running quickly to her smíal. Mrs. Chubb gave Frodo a poisonous glare before slamming the door shut again, the windows of the smíal shaking with the force.

Slightly confused, but quite pleased with the way things went with Gypsy, Frodo went skipping (yes, skipping) down the road, singing as he went. 'I hope she's at the Yule Festival tomorrow. I'm feeling like the happiest hobbit alive!' Frodo thought gleefully, giving a jump and a click of his heels.

Aw, Frodo's in looooooooooooooooove! Too bad it won't last long- (gasp, BUM-BUMMMM, thunder, lightning)

PS: Mae Govannen, Tûgier. Elen lanta lúmenn' omentielvo translates to"Well met, Fat One. A star falls on our meeting." Get it?