Drowned
Author's Note: My First Lord of the Rings attempt, but not my first fan fiction. This is chapter 1 of 2. Chapter 2 will go up tomorrow. This has not been beta'd.
"There never was much to tell of them 'til they were drowneded."--The Gaffer
"Drowneded?"--Several Voices
Chapter 1
"Now, Frodo, you be a good boy, and stay out of Farmer Maggot's fields, you understand?" Drogo said, fussing with his jacket.
Frodo immediately looked guiltily at the ground. "But I've never even been there," he mumbled.
His father "humph"-ed and his mother smiled in the background.
"Just stay and play nice with your cousins, and quit fussing, Drogo."
"Primula, wouldn't it be better if we just…"
"No. You promised to come out on the river with me," she said, accusingly, hands on her hips. She stared her husband in the eye.
"Frodo, go find your cousins, they're running around here somewhere. There're enough of us living here that you'll certainly never be at loss for a friend. Stay away from the farm." He shooed his son out of the room.
He didn't see Frodo stick his tongue out at him before leaving.
"I know I promised, but the Brandywine Bridge makes me nervous enough, let alone getting in that icy river."
"You'll be in the boat, you'll be as safe as safe can be."
"I've eaten too much. My stomach's upset. I can't go." He plopped down into a comfortable chair.
His wife walked over to the chair, sat on its arm, and slipped her arms around his neck. "You barely touched your dinner you were so nervous."
"Me? I'm not nervous."
"Oh really? I've never seen you turn down a second helping of desert before. And you only ate half your stew and you barely touched your potatoes and—"
"Are you cataloging everything I've eaten?" he asked, snorting. "We'll be here all night."
"That's not true." She sighed. "Alright. We'll stay here." So saying, she went and curled up in another chair, looking somewhat sad.
Drogo tried ignoring her and after ten minutes decided he couldn't. "I'm…I'm going outside for some Leaf." So saying, he and his tobacco pouch left.
He stayed outside smoking for about half an hour.
Primula's father soon joined him. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
They shared companionable, if somewhat awkward, silence for a time.
"Didn't you and Prim have plans for tonight? I saw your lad sneaking into the pantry with Meriadoc and Piffel a while ago. Or was it Pollet and Merten he was with? I'm not sure; maybe it was Meriadoc after all. Pollet is too old to be playing with little boys." He contemplated the stars.
"Well, we did."
"And?"
"Decided not to go," he muttered.
"It was the boats, wasn't it?"
Drogo gave a glum nod and leaned against the wall.
"Don't blame you. I'm not much for the water myself. But Prim loves boating. She used to spend afternoons out there. A little on the adventurous side. I'm too old for that now. She hasn't been on the water in ages. Safe enough I suppose though. She misses it. Her mother used to go out on boats too. Must be where she got that silly idea from."
Drogo hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms, pipe forgotten. He was starting to feel bad. Prim's mother had passed unexpectedly a few years before, rather young for a hobbit-wife to die. Primula had taken Frodo onto the water a few times, but not in a couple of years. She hadn't been on the water at all since her mother passed on.
"Good night, Drogo."
"Goodnight, Master Gorbadoc." Drogo watched the clouds passing over the stars. He relit his pipe and finished what was left in it.
Primula didn't remember dozing off, but she found herself being shaken awake as she slumped in her favorite chair.
"What is it?" she asked, yawning.
"Come on. We're going." Drogo grabbed both of her hands.
"What are you talking about?" she repeated.
"The boat. We're going downriver and back in that boat you had them set aside for us." He grinned at the expression on Primula's face.
"You mean it?"
He nodded empathetically. "Yes. Now let's go before I changed my mind."
They ran from the house and Old Gorbadoc took a sip of wine and smiled as he watched them. "Frodo! Don't even think about coming another step closer with that worm. The only thing worms are good for are catching fish."
Frodo and his accomplice scurried away with their fistfuls of insects.
Gorbadoc grinned. He'd seen them out of the corner of his eye, shutting his eye, he heard the young cousin ask Frodo, "Can he see out his hair on the back of his head?"
"No, no. You see that place in the middle of his head without any hair on it?"
"Yeah?"
"That's where his third eye is! Daddy still has hair covering his, so he can't see…"
The voices started to fade away.