Though They Kept Denying It, An Unexpected Adventure Did Commence

13 April 3018, of the Third Age

21 Astron 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time

"I heard Gandalf last night," I said.

Frodo paused as he put the seed-cake in the oven. "Yes," he said carefully.

I was lounging at the kitchen table, kneading dough in a rather lazy way. "Is he staying long? I wanted to see him."

Merry and Pippin listened from their chairs in the kitchen as well.

"No, just stopped for tea last night," Frodo said.

"Oh. Well, was it anything important? He hasn't been visiting since – well, you know."

"No. On the contrary, I was deliberating with him about some business I'm considering."

I smacked the dough. "Well. I suppose that's fine and well, then."

Frodo turned from the fire. "Yes, it is."

And that's the last I heard about it.

16 June 3018 of the Third Age

25 Forelithe 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time

"Mandy, can you please run down to Fatty Bolger's market and bring back some eggs?" Frodo called from the pantry. "And some sugar and butter. We appear to be running low."

I made a list in the back of my journal. "How about some beef? I think we ought to have some."

"Yes that sounds good – we can salt it when you get back."

I added in a scratchy cursive Salt to my list. I made a mental note to also pick some rosemary and thyme, with which I especially loved to season my meat and potatoes. Oh – and garlic. My list was growing.

I was on my way out the front door with my big basket when I paused and realized I should ask Frodo about apples. When I padded to his study, however, I found him counting his cloaks and holding his walking stick, pondering. One glance at his desk told me he had been writing in his almanac lists of things.

I decided to leave without saying anything.

I did, however, mention something to Sam, on my walk back from the market.

"Is Frodo intending on travelling?" I asked.

Sam jumped. "N-Not that I know of, Miss Bolo," he said.

"Sam, it's Mandy. Are you quite certain?"

"Well, now that you mention it, he did say recently something in regards to retirement," Sam said. "But I have to say that it was only in passing. I'm sure you would know better than I."

"Ah," I replied. "Well, that makes much more sense." But it didn't make sense, not at all.

I stared at Sam for a moment longer, waiting to see if he would say anything else. I felt somewhat bad, taking advantage of his nervousness, but it gave him away – he knew a little more than he was letting on. It was just a matter of how to find out.

And in fact, as I glanced upward from the Gamgees' toward the house, I saw Gandalf leaving. I took one last look at Sam, who had turned conveniently to water his window-box flowers.

Whatever was happening, I decided it best not to ask because somehow, I knew I wouldn't get an answer.

3 August 3018, of the Third Age

10 Wedmath 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time

In summer, I enjoyed my solitude in the branches of a low tree overlooking Bywater Pool. It wasn't wholly comfortable, so I had taken one of the cushions from Bag End and propped it in a V-shaped nook for some padding, and was doodling. My favorite things to sketch were things that moved – ponies, of course, and cows, and mostly hobbits as they passed along in the distance. I liked the way legs created a vertical line of motion throughout the entire body. Leg, hip, chest, and shoulders all moved in rhythm. I bit my quill. Probably nobody else thought of these things.

As it was, I got frustrated with my sketches because it felt like I kept making the same mistakes. My sketches, as they were, were not graceful or whole – they were altogether "sketchy" in appearance, due to the fact that I liked to go over the lines several times. How could I make motion with just one smooth line? I wasn't doing portraits.

But the low summer sun and the onset of dusk, which was coming just a tad more quickly these days, reminded me that there was only a short time before summer was over. Little more than a month, to be precise. With the end of summer came farming season, and of course Frodo's and my birthdays. And the absence of Bilbo was a little more on everyone's minds.

I decided to try sketching a goose, and with a flourish signed the date at the bottom of the page. 10 Wedmath 1418. Shire Goose. Summer is almost over.

Then I thought of something that seemed highly strange, but it was too intriguing to second-guess. I drew a figure, as best as I could manage, jogging in a dress (I was interested in how skirts moved above pants, because the fabric was all one piece). But then I added a sharp chin, curls intended to be red-brown, and in her hand, a sword. A small sword that I had just glimpsed once. I couldn't even really remember what it looked like; I just knew it was beautiful. Elegant. Elvish. Bilbo's sword.

And I considered scratching out that picture, because it wasn't entirely hobbitish. But I figured, I wasn't named after Adamanta Took for nothing. Perhaps there was something Tookish, or rather, not entirely hobbitish about me anyway.

We'll just have to see with time, I supposed, especially with all the questions I had surrounding Frodo and Sam and Gandalf.

I closed the book.

22 September 3018, of the Third Age

1 Winterfilth 1418, Shire Reckoning Time

Pippin, Merry, Sam and I stood around Frodo's bed with noisemakers. As soon as his eyes fluttered, we sprang into action. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" We shrieked.

It was Sam's idea first, and I elaborated on it. Rosie helped. Merry and Pippin mostly got in the way, but were helpful, I begrudgingly admit. Since Bilbo was gone, we wanted to do something to celebrate.

Frodo rubbed his eyes and sniffed. "Is that bacon?"

I grinned. "Of course."

He glanced around his room, which was decorated with ribbons and flowers from the garden. Putting his arms behind his head, he smiled. "Thanks."

I left to move the bacon around – goodness knew someone had to do it – and started sautéing mushrooms while the lads, as planned, showed covered Frodo's eyes and surprised him with our gift, that we'd worked on all night with a little help from the Gaffer and Mr. Cotton. I imagined his blue eyes beaming at us, at me, for lighting up the party tree and hanging streamers down.

But when he came into the kitchen, his eyes looked sunken, sad.

"Thank you to you all," Frodo said, tussling my hair.

"Green Dragon tonight," I said, pointing at Frodo with my fork.

"I've got quite a bit to work on today. Why don't you go out with the lads?"

"It's your birthday," I said, but all I could think about was the night Gandalf first arrived, back in April, and the mysterious conversation. I bit my tongue for the umpteenth time. It wouldn't do to probe.

"Yes, Mandy, it is. But it's also just another day."

I didn't feel much like finishing my breakfast.

23 September 3018, of the Third Age

2 Winterfilth 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time

I awoke the next morning with Merry and Pippin by my bed, looking heartsick.

"They're gone!" Merry cried.

"Who?" I asked groggily.

"Sam and Frodo!" Pippin said anxiously. "They've left…here…"

I was suddenly awake as I sat up quickly and looked at both of the boys, terribly nervous.

Pippin thrust a note at me and I read it over quickly, then again, and again.

Dearest Mandy, Peregrin, and Meriadoc:

Sam and I have gone; do not try to follow us, please. I have One Important Task to complete and then I shall be happy to live out the rest of my days just outside the Shire, in peace and relative quiet, in happy retirement.

Miss you all, we will see you soon. Please attend to Bag End in my absence.

Regards from Frodo UNDERHILL and Samwise Gamgee

"See?" Pippin shrieked, pointing at the note and jumping up and down near the bedside. "SEE? He's gone and left us for good. When is he ever going to come back? When?"

Merry sighed loudly and rolled his eyes at Pippin's paranoia.

I reread the note a fourth time. There is an important task to complete, he had written. "What sort of task, I wonder?" I whispered with amazement. Finally, I stood up, and began re-packing my bag. "There's only one thing we hobbits can do," I said happily, much to Merry and Pippin's surprise.

"What?" Merry asked, and then he grinned. "I bet you're gonna do exactly what Frodo Bag…I mean, Mr. Underhill, told you NOT to do, aren't you?"

"Well, yes," I laughed. "We're going to find them. We've got to, haven't we?"

I dressed myself behind a stand in a warm, red dress, the sturdiest thing I owned, and wrapped my scarf around my neck. Sam's necklace stayed on, as it had for the past week. In my bag I packed extra clothes and food and …and anything else I didn't want to leave.

"We'll stop by Maggot's farm along the way," Merry said mischievously. "Just for a few…er, supplies you can say."

I frowned as I buttoned my green cloak and untucked the scarf from underneath, but if it was one last "fun" moment in the Shire we'd have together, I wanted them to have it. Since when was I giving them permission to do anything, anyway? I was only the newcomer.

"OK," I sighed, pulling my pack on. "So let's go."

"The East Road?" Merry suggested.

"It's as good a guess as any," I said.

So we walked down the Hill to the East Road, which, like its name, marched East. It stretched all the way to the Brandywine River, where the Brandywine Bridge crossed it, and into the Old Forest and Barrow-Downs. And beyond that? I couldn't say. The maps all seemed to be a bit foggy on the edges there.

Passing through the Shire, I enlightened the boys as much as I knew. As it turned out, we all had pieces of the story. Merry swore that Frodo told him that he was moving to a remote location outside the Shire to retire ("you got that from the note," I complained, but Merry swore he heard it elsewhere) while Pippin was certain that Gandalf was bringing Frodo to visit Bilbo, wherever he was. I informed them of my piece – the interesting conversation that I heard betwixt Frodo and Gandalf, and later interrupted by Sam.

"It seemed…well, how shall I put it? It seemed dark," I said.

"It was nighttime," Merry pointed out.

"Yes, Merry, I know," I said. "But it was a different dark. It felt like my candles were struggling to stay lit. It felt like something…evil, perhaps, I don't know, was in that house."

Quiet for a moment. Sometimes it was more peaceful to not hear the boys' voices.

"Well, what could it be?"

"I don't know!" I said, cross. "I couldn't make out much of the conversation. And it's not like asking got me anywhere closer. Sam had a great deal to say to Gandalf that night, but he held his tongue fast as soon as I looked at him in the eye and wondered about it."

I remembered a day. The evening, to be exact, after Bilbo's birthday party. "This all started once Bilbo disappeared," I added.

"That's right!" Pippin finally piped in. "Gandalf leaves, Frodo turns inward, and Sam is in on it, to be sure. It's a conspiracy!"

"Frodo isn't going into retirement," I said, mostly to nail it home once more that Merry was on the wrong track. "Not in the least."

Naturally the boys wanted to detour into Farmer Maggot's fields to stock up on vegetables. I said no, they said yes, and since I was outnumbered, my opinion didn't count.

Walking through Maggot's crop was a death sentence, I was sure. Any moment I anticipated Maggot discovering the boys and I smuggling out cabbages, carrots, corn, and mushrooms. Jumping at the sound of barking dogs, I threw my arms around Pippin's waist and clung there like a frightened hobbit-child.

"Oh my," Pippin said, bemused.

"For effect," I said, still clinging.

"It's Maggot," Merry said, hearing Maggot's angry shouts and seeing his scythe coming after us, and then with shouts of "RUN!" He took off into the cornstalks. I followed Merry, too scared to stop sprinting, sure as the scarf round my neck was green that Maggot's dogs were after us, and my fear sent my heart galloping when we ended up crash-landing into someone.

"Farmer Maggot, very sorry…I can explain!" I cried, spitting out leaves, for I was sure the hobbit I was lying beside was he. It was Frodo, laughing hysterically at my pathetic apologies.

"What have you been doing?" He asked accusingly, still laughing.

"Frodo!" Pippin giggled, from on top of him. "Merry, look, it's Frodo Baggins…uh, Underhill!"

"Hello, Frodo," Merry grinned. "Nice try, losing us like that."

Sam scowled. "Get off him! Frodo, are you alright?"

"What's the meaning of all this?" Pippin asked, ready for an explanation about the sudden departure.

"We know you're up to something, and you're not leaving us out of it!" Merry said.

The dogs barking once again set us on our feet, and we had no choice but to run together.

We stumbled through the corn, listening to Pippin explain why Maggot was overreacting and counting off the last few days' worth of stolen crop.

"YES, Pippin, it's such a wonder that he's angry!" I snapped.

Once we had broken through, we all stopped dead at a cliff, where I brushed cornstalk and dirt off me.

"Well, that was close," I said, turning round to see where the others were.

Sam didn't stop in time and sent us rolling down the cliff, landing one on top of another and I found myself squeezed between Pippin and Frodo again.

"Trust a Brandybuck and a Took," Sam grumbled, but he meant it in jest, and we giggled.

"What? It was just a detour," Merry assured me. "A shortcut. Mandy's idea."

"Was not," I chortled. "I was outvoted."

"Shortcut to what?" Sam grunted.

"Mushrooms!" Pippin cried happily, and scrambled to get them, with the others on his heels. I rolled painfully off of Frodo and brushed twigs out of my hair, gratefully accepting his hand to help me to my feet. He looked distantly down the path.

"Now that's done," I said, wiping the last of the corn husks away, "we can get back on track."

"I think we should get off the road," he told me.

"What? What do you mean get off the road?" I looked around me, saw nothing, but the hairs on my neck stood up when I noticed Frodo's expression. He knew something that I most certainly did not.

"Get off the road, quick!"

He seized my hand and pulled me into a little ditch under a tree's roots, and I gestured frantically for the others to follow. We backed into the dirt as deeply as possible, and while Merry and Pippin divvied up their mushrooms, I was squashed between Frodo and Sam. Oh, how uncomfortable it all was. And for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to stay on the East Road, like I'd planned that morning. It was all so bothersome.

A horse's heavy clopping hooves and snort stopped the mushroom raid, and the other three became as serious as we, giving us scared glances. Frodo turned his head towards mine and he looked up, through a hole in the root. I followed his gaze to see a horses' black, sweaty fetlock and hoof stomp the ground. I jerked my head forward again, quivering.

"What. Is. That," I mouthed to Frodo.

He shook his head very slowly in response. The gesture clearly meant "Be quiet. Be still."

Sharp metal hit dirt as the black rider jumped to the ground and bent over the hole, quick as anything, making a noise as if he were attempting to smell us out.

My breath came in sharp gasps and I held it for as long as I could, trying to steady my chest and mind so my heavy breathing and kicking heart wouldn't give us away. Sam's hand found my arm and squeezed it comfortingly.

I closed my eyes. Sam suddenly reached over me and shook Frodo, alerting me that we were still conscious. For now.

Merry, smart Merry, sent the bag of mushrooms flying to distract the rider and it leapt back onto its steed and galloped off with a squeal that sent waves of fright and cold into me.

"That was Something," I said. "Something is in the Shire."

Frodo held a finger to his lips again. "We should stay completely silent, and only communicate in hand motions for now," he said, shaken.

Holding hands, we lunged out of the burrow we'd made and sprinted in the opposite direction of the rider until we felt safe enough to get back on course. I glanced up at the sun, which was low now, and nightfall would set in quickly. I determined which way was East (180 degrees in the other direction), and pointed silently. It was long-ago determined, I supposed, that we would not be taking the Road.

The sun was going down.

"What is going on?" Pippin gasped after a long run, where we were spying through some bushes.

"I don't know," I mouthed.

"That black rider was looking for something, or someone," Merry accused, turning to Frodo. "Frodo?"

"Get down!" Pippin cried, jerking my cloak and pulling me down, for the rider suddenly came into view over the ridge ahead.

"We need to get to Bree," Frodo said softly as he could.

Bree? That was so far...

"Right," Merry replied, nodding, not believing our new dilemma. "Buckleberry Ferry…Follow me!"

Running through the woods, frightened out of our minds, the black rider caught our "scent" and burst out of the trees, screeching while its horse turned this way and that. Our hobbit sense told us to scatter and dodge the heavy horse, confusing it, before sprinting off, following Merry's lead.

"This way!" He screamed. "Follow me!"

We ran to the dock and boarded the ferry, but Frodo was still far behind, running for his life, having been stopped by a second rider. I tried leaping back to shore to help but Sam grasped my cloak, for the ferry was pulling out.

"Frodo run!" I cried. "RUN!"

The others joined in encouragement as the horse behind gathered speed and Frodo made a last effort, jumping as far as he could from the dock to the ferry. The horse, seeing the water, halted suddenly, hooves skidding, and reared with a snort and the black rider screeched again, burning my very sensitive ears.

"How far to the nearest crossing?" Frodo asked, gasping, as four black riders galloped back through the woods. I clutched at his cloak, giving him a reassuring squeeze and he gave me a look that plainly said Thank You.

"Brandywine Bridge," Merry sounded just as frightened as he as he pushed his pole through the river. "Twenty miles."

"We have gone so far off-course," I groaned.

"It was Mandy's idea to follow the East Road," Merry admitted.

"Mandy was right about that being our course," Frodo said. "Unfortunately couldn't go the easiest way."

"What a wonderful day this has been," Pippin attempted at humor. "What else could possibly go wrong?"

We had to pull our hoods over our heads as we floated down river, for it began to downpour in torrents.

"Lovely, just lovely," Pippin replied to Mother Nature.