Chapter Three: Bagshot Row
It was well past one and the night was fallen to chill by the time that the Gaffer Gamgee walked out of the pub, his second-daughter on his arm. The two waved goodbye to Mr Goodbody, and turned down the road with their light cloaks tucked carefully around them and their scarves wound beneath that.
"Do you have enough pipeweed?" asked Rosie as the two turned down the road that would take them to Bywater.
"Aye." Replied the Gaffer Gamgee.
"Enough to drink?"
"Aye."
"Enough food?"
"Aye, Rose, aye. Anything you ask me I have enough of- save for company. Now, my Hal may be coming down from the north-farthing this week, so perhaps I will be fine even in that for a while." And here he laughed "I am old. And easily satisfied. I don't need anything, really, just my children- and that includes you and your brothers. Just visit me from time to time is all, I ask. I could use the help around the taters now that Sam's…now that Sam's gone on and Imoved./I" he sighed "My back is not as it used to be- though I still say that my heart is."
"If it would please you, I could pay you a visit tomorrow and help you with your plantings." Rosie suggested as she led the elderly hobbit down a road he could barely see in the dark.
"Now then, Rose, I know you mean well. But the truth is I need good strong arms and a mind for earth and vegetables to help me there. But you have other talents- perhaps you convince one of your brothers. Or even your gaffer. I should enjoy either company. And yours too- I would not refuse to have you visit me to speak."
Rosie smiled, though she was a little disappointed. It seemed her lot to be underestimated- but then why should she complain? What's one's lot is one's lot. Might as well latch onto it and make the best of what's been given! Besides, it was better to be underestimated than overestimated- when one's underestimated, they can do better. But when one's overestimated they can only disappoint. Keep your mind low, Rosie Cotton! She told herself Good deeds and appreciation are for greater folk.
"I'll tell them to go to you." The hobbit-maid smiled, sweetly "and if they refuse, then I'll see they have no supper till they go."
"Bless you, lass." Laughed the Gaffer, his eyes catching onto hers for a moment "For all your ill deeds you do decent things!"
"I try." She smiled, but soon felt the smile fade.
The two of them stopped in their tracks. There, as quiet and menacing as a sleeping snake was Bag End. There was silence save for the chirping of the Shire crickets, and the pair could scarce let the cold breath escape their lips.
In the three month since Mr. Baggins had left, his former home had gone to a strange kind of ruin. While it was hardly different, it seemed to be worlds away from the warm place it had once been. The climbing roses that had been so beautiful in the summer months now coiled about recklessly with their thorns brown and bitter. They sprung up from the ground like long, bony fingers, and crept up the grassy prison. Where once the daffodils and periwinkles flowered, there now remained but withered stems and leaves as brittle as burned paper. And where the snow lay strewn from three day's past fall, there could be seen only the muddiness of the thing and not the whiteness it had once possessed. The lily garden was completely dead, and on its once pure leaves there crawled the few wriggling bugs that had survived the winter's cold. The peach roses- Sam's pride and joy could not be found even for the vines. Perhaps they had died and crumbled away. Or perhaps they were merely buried in the snow.
Gaffer Gamgee moved from his spot at last, opening the gate and traveling up the hill, as he muttered things to himself about the way things were beginning to look and all his great work gone to waste. Though Rosie hurried after him and tried to halt his attempts, he did not listen, and knelt down in the snow next to the garden, pulling at the weeds and broken vines with his bare hands.
"We can't be here." Rosie insisted, trying her best to urge the elder hobbit from his spot "It's not Mr Frodo's or Mr Bilbo's home anymore."
"It's their home as much as it's always been. This smial belongs to the Baggins of Hobbiton- they've always kept it and kept it well. How can I let all their good effort and my good work go to waste!?"
And he pulled and pulled at the weeds and the vines, his fingers bleeding and freezing without sympathy. Rosie hovered about, uncomfortably, half-ready to see the great green door open and Lotho appear in his sleeping gown, half ready to see her work-mates traveling up the road. But neither things happened. What came to her ears moments later was not the sound of hobbit footsteps, but of greater ones.
IBffff. Bffff. BFFF./I each footfall was louder and more clumsy than the first.
"Please, Gaffer Gamgee, we have to go!"
And still he would not let up. But she lay her hands upon his shoulder and hurried him behind the old plum tree that had not given fruit for several years and that they thought never would.
"Rose! What's going on?"
"Shush, Gaffer, see here comes strange folk!" she whispered, though he seemed more concerned with the garden.
Two creatures as tall as giants, and as rude as wild boars came to the door of Bag End, their feet wrapped in leather and string, and their bodies draped in wild clothing. They did not need to knock, but the door opened for them.
"You're late."
"We shouldn't have come at all. Don't waste our time."
There was a pause.
"Alright, well, you know why you're here."
"What's going on?" The Gaffer asked, unable to see. It was a bad move.
The two wild men had heard the sound of his voice, and turned to look toward the plum tree. With loud, heavy steps they advanced, hands upon their rude weapons.
"Stay down." Rosie whispered, pushing the Gaffer back behind the bushes as gently as she could, and then rising to her feet.
She pretended to run as if she were the only one present and knew she had been caught But the two ran up and lay their large hands upon her shoulders, leading her toward the door with a chuckle.
"Seems you've got a spy." Laughed the wild man, his black and yellow teeth glimmering in the lamplight "Probably watching you sleep!"
For a moment Lotho's eyes dwindled on Rosie's shoulder where one of the men gripped her tightly. It seemed as if he were ready to protest to the unnecessary force, but as he looked once more at the men's faces he could only laugh (though his laughter was nervous).
"It seems a wild rose has made her way into my garden!" he chuckled "Well, my lass, if you wanted to admire me you'd only to ask! It'll do you no good to wander about in the business of gentlehobbits, spying on them late at night. Why don't you go home to your farm and that cripple of a gammer!"
The man squeezed her shoulder harder so that she let out a small cry. Though it hurt, she was not sure if he even noticed he was doing it. These big-folk were so strong and their steps so heavy that any force they put out would have been overwhelming to a hobbit.
"Better to have a cripple of a gammer who's sweet to her kin, than an old, nasty grump. And I wasn't watching you in your bedclothes, Mr Lotho. I was…" she tried to think of something to say "I was trying to finish up something my Sam had left undone before he left. He'd asked me to finish it off, but I'd forgot about it till now. I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to wake you."
Lotho wrinkled his nose. He was quite fond of his gammer. But he would not let himself become upset in front of the two big folk.
"Your Sam?" he laughed "You speak of him like a brother! But then, he probably is, isn't he? I can't keep all you farming folk straight. It would be easier if you'd stop having children. But then, who would do all the dirty work?
Anyways, next time you want to come about and fix my garden, you let me know, lass. It won't do to have strange folk wandering about my property!"
And here Rosie's gaze turned upward toward the men who still held onto her shoulder. Lotho caught the signal and waved his hand.
"Let go of her. She's no cause for worry. Her kind's only good for digging in the dirt, not poking around in it."
For all his snobbery and nasty attitude, Lotho was not one to condone unnecessary violence- or at least not at the time. The big folk that came were working for him (though they were stronger) and he would not have those who lived below his name harming the hobbits he had grown up with.
"Thank you, Mr Lotho." She muttered, smoothing out her bodice "If I may have permission to finish the job?"
"Come back tomorrow." He answered, waving her away "You can't see anything without a lamp and I'm not about to give you one. Besides, I have important business to attend to here. Look, you've already wasted these poor gentlemen's time!"
"Then let me retrieve my tools. I've left them in the back, you see."
"Alright, alright." Answered Lotho "Just be quick about it."
She had hoped he would go inside, but then even Mr Sackville-Baggins was not so dim. To invite two big-folk into his home where no one would hear a scream, would be nothing short of idiocy. If ever he were to do such a thing he would surely find himself dead for the greed of thieves.
Rosie stood in her spot for a bit longer. She stared at Lotho, waiting for him to retreat inside. Yet this was not the whole reason for her stalling- she was entranced (in the way young people often are) by the oddity of his face. Years of terrible pimples had left his face looking like gravel, and she wondered how on earth it must feel to the touch.
"…Miss Rose, are you going to get your gardening tools?"
"…sorry, I was…" she tried to think of something. And then she swallowed, biting her lip "…just letting my eyes linger a little longer."
Lotho shuffled uncomfortably "Just go, lass." He mumbled, either despising her supposed interest, or disregarding it.
She was glad for such a thing and went once more to the garden where the plum tree stood. Not being able to think of an alternative, she helped the Gaffer Gamgee up so that he became obvious to the three.
When at last she came into the light with the elderly hobbit on her arm, Lotho sniffed and furrowed his brow.
"I thought you were getting gardening tools."
"Yes. Well…really I'm the gardening tool. Mr Gamgee is the one who really knows what to do. I only do what he says."
"Ah." Answered Lotho, losing interest. "Well, then, go let him tell you how to get home. I have important business to deal with."
And with that, the Gaffer Gamgee and Rosie hurried down the steps of Bag End as fast as they could. They had time only to look back and see Lotho blocking the entrance of his home.