Drowned

Chapter 2

Author's Note: Please review if you like the story. There may or may not be a follow up piece on Frodo stealing from Farmer Maggot and getting chased out by the dogs. Special thanks to Tindomiel, Nimbus 1944, and the ever supportive Red Bess Rackham for their postitive reviews of the first chapter. Enjoy!
Feet smacking the cold ground, Primula and Drogo ran to the river as if they were kids. Drogo couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He wondered if Bilbo had ever been down a river in a boat—quite unaware that Bilbo had gone down a river in a wine barrel.

A small boat was tied off not far from the house. Gingerly, Drogo stepped in and sat down. His side of the boat dipped a little closer to the water. He looked nervous.

Primula stepped into the other side of the boat and it leveled out. "Don't look so nervous," she giggled. She had already untied the boat before getting in, and used the pole to push away from the shore. The current soon picked them up. "We won't take it too far since this is your first time out. Halfway to the bridge and then we can tie the boat up and walk back to the house."

"We could go all the way to the bridge and watch the sunrise before walking back."

Primula smiled. Maybe Drogo had a little bit of the Took side of his family in him after all.

The boat ride was survivable for Drogo. He'd been certain that the motion of the water would make him sick. It didn't. He was certain it would be freezing out. It wasn't. And he was under the impression that he would get soaked from the water. He didn't. It was actually nice, for a boat of course.

They watched the moon drift across the sky, the clouds weaving in and out of the stars above them.

At a particularly sluggish part of the river, Primula said, "I told you there was nothing to be afraid of here."

He nodded, still not entirely at ease.

"See? Look." She stood up carefully and danced in a little circle at her end of the boat and posed.

"Very nice, now sit down before you fall out."

"I'm not going to fall out."

"Well, I love you too much to take that risk, sit down," he implored.

"I love you too." Without sitting, she leaned forward to give him a kiss. It was the season of lowest water level for the river and they hit a rock just barely below the surface of the water and it jarred the boat, turning them slightly. Primula lost her footing when the boat hit and fell into the water. She sputtered out water and tried to grab onto the side of the boat.

"Prim!" Drogo lurched forward to grab her hands, but hitting the rock had caused the boat to start to spin, and at that moment it was spinning away from Primula faster and faster. He tried to grab her and couldn't. He did the only thing he could think of and jumped in after her. It was very brave and all, but also foolish. The man had never been in any water deeper than a bathtub in his life and could not swim for the life of him.

Primula, growing up next to the Brandywine, could swim. Unfortunately her dress was water-soaked and was weighting her down.

Drogo kicked as valiantly as he could and grabbed onto Primula, sputtering up water. His head bobbed in and out of the river water, Primula's did the same (though hers mostly remained above the water. The boat was drifting away and his legs were tiring. So were hers.

The next morning, two bodies—armed wrapped around one another—washed up at the docks near Brandywine Bridge. One of the ferrymen found them and identified the woman hobbit as Primula Brandybuck, or rather, Primula Baggins. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the other hobbit was her husband Drogo.
Frodo was playing hide-and-seek with Meriadoc in the lower hall. "…ninety-one…ninety-two…"

His youngest aunt—just out of her tweens—tapped him on the shoulder.

"What is it, Pollet? I'm playing hide-and-seek with Merry."

"Your grandfather wants to see you, Frodo."

"But…"

"He said he wants to see you now. He's in his study."

Pouting and rolling his eyes, Frodo followed Pollet to the study. She left him there outside the door with a pat on the back. He knocked.

"Come in," Old Gorbadoc said, sounding tired.

Frodo sat on one of the stools in front of his grandfather's desk. He looked around at the paintings and other things in the room.

"Frodo, do you know why I've called you in here?"

He shook his head. He wondered if he knew that he was the one to put the spiders under the teacups this morning.

"Your parents were out on the river last night in a boat." He cleared his throat. This wasn't going to be easy. "There was an accident. We're not very sure what happened. But…"

"Did Daddy hit his head? He doesn't like the river. I think it's neat."

"Your parents drowned Frodo."

He looked up from the string he was playing with on his vest. "What?"

"They drowned. They washed up at the docks and they weren't breathing. I'm sorry."

"But…"

"I know you are—excuse me, you were just here for a visit, but now, you'll get to live here with your cousins forever. Won't that be nice?"

Frodo didn't say anything.

Gorbadoc sighed. He was horrible with bad news. "I'm very sorry."

"So I'm never gonna see 'em again?" he asked in a little, frightened voice.

"There's going to be a funeral, like when your grandma died."

Frodo shivered, feeling cold, and alone, and small. He hadn't liked that at all. This was worse. This was much worse.

He couldn't help it. He started crying. He tried not to, really he did. He tried to be a big boy. He started crying and went to hug his grandfather.

Gorbadoc hugged him back and looked at the ceiling, wondering how on earth the boy was going to cope without his parents, and how he was going to cope without his daughter? A few tears trickled down his cheeks.

Down in the lower hall, Merry finally came out of hiding. "Frodo!" he whined. "How come you didn't find me? I win, I guess. Where are you?" He wandered around, but nobody had seen Frodo.

He stopped at the door of his grandfather's study. Pollet was standing there, her ear pressed to it.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Ssh." She looked very upset.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Run along and play."

He stayed where he was. "Aunt Poll…have you seen Frodo?"

"He's talking to your grandpa. Be quiet."

"But he never found me!" he whined.

"Whisper. What's wrong?"

Merry pouted. "We were playing hide and seek and Frodo never came and found me. He's mean."

Pollet, kneeling on one knee, turned towards Merry. "Sit down, Merry. Frodo is inside talking. He's going to be very upset for a while. He might need to be alone later, or need someone to cheer up. Just be nice to him when you see him, okay?"

Merry nodded.

"Run along now."

When she was sure Merry was gone, she cried. She cried for Primula, for Drogo, for Frodo, and for Old Gorbadoc himself who held the family together.