Lord of the Rings 1. Rain

Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
By Mainframe  
  
  
  
The shire had been experiencing one of the worst rainy seasons in it's history, it had been raining mercilessly now for four days, and had drizzled every day for more then a month; the three young hobbits were becoming restless.  
  
Bilbo sighed and leaned against the doorframe in Bag-End, he watched them playing chase & catch nun to carefully around the Kitchen table. He had been writing for many hours and had decided to take a break. Frodo was it, but being the elder of the two he was going easy on the two younger hobbits whom he could easily have caught.  
  
Bilbo had, in a desperate bid to keep Frodo occupied invited Merry and Sam to stay at Bag-End for the week. Hamfast had been more than willing to let Sam spend the week at Bag-End and had gratefully accepted Bilbo's offer, instructing his son to be on his best behaviour, after all there was no way that the gardens could be tended to in this weather. Infact to Hamfast & Sam's dismay they were now starting to closely resemble a pond! And no amount of channelling could stop the water from returning.  
  
Bilbo could ill afford to spare Frodo the time he should, for he had reached a difficult chapter in his diary (The Red Book) and needed to concentrate in order to get events down in the correct order.  
  
A smile crept across the old hobbits face as he watched his young charge play. Since the rain had prevented Frodo from leaving Bag-End for most of the month Bilbo had noticed Frodo had become very withdrawn and rarely left his room, preferring instead to read or stare out of his bedroom window, except when called to a meal, at which he worryingly ate very little. Upon inquiring if he felt ill, Frodo had shaken his head and quietly replied that he missed going outside to play. Bilbo had decided then and there that he would travel to Buckland early next morning and rescue Merry from the chaos that is Brandy Hall, and pick up Samwise on the way back as a surprise. Frodo beamed with joy when a rather waterlogged Merry accompanied by an even wetter Bilbo burst through the door, closely followed my Sam who seemed the drier of the three.  
  
Bag-End had been chaos ever since!  
  
Bilbo was rudely brought back to the present when he heard the breaking of glass and two loud thuds as Merry & Sam collided, taking the vase on the table with them. In their desperate bid to outman over Frodo they had smacked straight into one another. As Sam disentangled himself from Merry he stared in absolute horror at the remains of the broken vase strewn across the kitchen floor. His fathers word came back to him in a rush and he felt tears burn as he started to stutter and stammer apologise as Bilbo quickly made his way to the boys sides. Merry knelt on the floor next to Sam mute, chewing on his bottom lip nervously, eyes round as Bilbo carefully squatted in front of them.  
  
"Mister Bilbo Sir…I so sorry I wern't lookin were I was goin, it's all my fault!" He chewed nervously at his hand-me-down, to big cotton shirt. Frodo placed a reassuring hand on Sam's shaking shoulders and then started to rub his back in circles trying to stop the lad from hyperventilating.  
  
"It was my fault really Uncle, it was my idea to play this game and I should have know better then to chase Sam and Merry into the kitchen". Frodo said, lowering his eyes in shame and hanging his head.  
  
Merry gave Bilbo a well-practised round-eyed stare (which he had found to be the best way to get out of trouble with adults) and apologised quietly to Bilbo and started to pick up the broken piece near him.  
  
Bilbo ruffled his hair and told him not to worry and to leave the glass alone, before he cut himself! He then asked Frodo to fetch a broom and to carefully sweep the corpse of the vase from the room before anyone truly got hurt. Frodo complied and immediately set about the task. Bilbo wasn't mad. It had been an accident, an inevitable one but an accident all the same and he had no intention of punishing the boy's. Once he had gotten over the shock his face softened as he reached out and carefully pushed back the mop of golden curls that hid Sam's face. To the older hobbit's dismay the lad was silently crying.  
  
"There now Sam. It's all right your not in trouble. You just gave an old hobbit a bit of a scare. Truly I'm not angry with any of you. Are you hurt?" he inquired.  
  
"No Sir" He sniffed and slowly got to his feet. "But I broke your lovely vase and I don't rightly know how to fix it!" Bilbo couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him as he ruffled the Lads curly mob. He bent forward and quietly whispered into Sam's ear something that made Sam start to giggle and eventually blush trying to mind his manners. Bilbo glanced out of the window and smiled, and disappeared down one of the many halls in Bag-End. Frodo who had just finished emptying the vase fragments into the bin came back to find a very red faced Sam and Merry doing his best to look innocent away in the corner. Frodo smiled at his cousin and got one in return, Merry knew better then to try the innocent look on Frodo, after all it was Frodo who had taught him the trick when he lived at Brandy Hall. Frodo returned his attention to Sam.  
  
"What did Uncle Bilbo say to you Sam?" Frodo's curiosity was more then peeked as he watched his young friend squirm.  
  
"Well Mr Frodo I don't rightly know if I should repeat it, it ain't very polite to gossip". But eventually he crumbled under Frodo's gaze. * How does he do it I wonder? * Sam thought I never knew nobody who can keep their face empty like that and know they're smiling at ya by their eye's alone* Sam realized he was staring now and looked away in embarrassment.  
  
"Well Sir, Mr Bilbo told me I wasn't to worry about that vase because it was given to him by Lobelia and he thought it was the ugliest thing he'd ever got given". Sam turned redder even as he was finishing his sentence. Frodo doubled over in fits of giggles, Lobelia had been harsh with her words to Sam on more then one occasion and Frodo himself had many experiences of the hurt she could inflict with her words. Yet Sam being Sam had never spoken ill of her and was embarrassed by Bilbo's gentle jest. Frodo straightened himself out and smiled fondly.  
  
Bilbo re-emerged carrying three good size sacks and placed them on the table before the three boys'. Frodo and Merry grinned at one another for they both recognised that they were the baskets used for collecting apples.  
  
"Here you go boy's, the rain has let up for now and I think it's time you three did something constructive and collected some apples". He smiled as their faces lit up at the prospect of getting out of the smail, but then he noticed Sam frowning slightly. "If you don't want to Sam that's alright. I just thought it would do you some good to get some fresh air!"  
  
"Oh it's nought like that Mr Bilbo, it's just that me Gaffer told me never ta pick fruit after it's rained. S'got all bugs in it looking to get dry" He stammered.  
  
He was defiantly Hamfast's son! "I had forgotten that Sam, thank you for reminding me" He smiled as the boy brightened the earlier distress washed away. "However I think that it would still be all right to pick it, and leave it in one of the sheds after. That should allow the insects to escape, don't you think?"  
  
"Yes Sir, that sounds right!" And with that said Sam picked up the sacks and handed one to Merry and Frodo. They ran to the door and had disappeared through it before Bilbo could blink. From outside Bilbo heard the fading voice of Frodo as he called out a goodbye to his Uncle. Bilbo smiled to himself and breathed a sigh of relief as he let the much-missed silence of Bag-End calm him. He set about boiling some water, and settled down at the table spooning the tealeaves into an old brown pot. The whistle from the kettle blew and picking up a thickly folded clothe from the shelf next to the stove and carried the kettle the short distance to the waiting Teapot. He had only just settled down to his first few refreshing sips of his tea when a terrible thought entered his head. There are apple trees near the Brandywine! The river will be swollen with this amount to bad weather! But then he allowed himself to calm a little Frodo was very sensible. He above any Hobbit knew the perils of the Brandywine. No, he was sure Frodo would never allow them near it. But even as Bilbo returned to his study the feel of unease did not dissipate and nagged at him as he tried to continue his writing. He placed his pen in the fold of the book and leaning on his elbows, laced his fingers together and wondered.  
  
*Did I just made a terrible mistake?*  
  
tbc  
  
*********  
  
Hi all! I finally worked up the guts to write my first LOTR's fic! So here's part 1, hope you like it. Constructive feedback is more then welcome. By the way I have yet to figure out the various age differences of the hobbits so please humour me and understand that I am trying to be as accurate as possible, however it I have Fluffed something do let me know. 


	2. Mud & Memories

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: This is my first fic and I am extremely nervous…I'm usually one of the lurking members of this group so please don't shoot down my amateur efforts and force me back to lurking. I do however appreciate any constructive criticism you have to offer, or advice to give. Like I said this is my first fic, but I have written a reasonable detailed outline of all that is to happen. But it is not set in stone so all suggestions will be listened to. I have yet to work out the age difference between Merry, Frodo & Sam but this fic is set in Hobbiton before The War of the Ring, and if I've worked this out right none of the three have come of age. If this is wrong then I shall have to bend their ages a little for my purposes. Hope you all enjoy!  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
Chapter 2: Mud & Memories  
  
  
  
Frodo, Merry, & Sam speed across the waterlogged lush green fields of Hobbiton towards the densely packed Wood, laughing and giggling until it had become a race. Frodo's long legs gave him the advantage and he was the first to reach the forest entrance. He paused to allow the others to catch up, observing with a frown how churned up the mud-track had become. As he waited for Sam and Merry, he closed his eyes and faced the sun, allowing it's gentle warmth to wash over him. He had missed its touch more then he had realised. He looked once again at the path they would have to take to reach their prize, setting one foot on the track to test it's strength. He sank to his dismay up to his ankle and with a thick slurping sound pulled his foot free. This was going to be difficult. He and Merry would probably be well, however Samwise was still not fully-grown and would probably have a great deal of trouble. As Merry closely followed by Sam pulled to a halt beside him, puffing and panting Frodo voiced his reservations.  
  
"I don't like the look of this Lads, I think when we reach the orchards we may find them flooded if this path is anything to go by" He looked then to Sam who despite his youth was able, like his father, to read his environment with easy and a great deal of accuracy!  
  
"What do you think Sam?"  
  
Taking another deep breath Sam surveyed the scene before him and a frown returned to play across his young features as he contemplated. Finally after several minutes of silence he spoke.  
  
"Well Mr Frodo I think were gonna end up knee high in mud before we've even picked our first apple. Not that it'd bother me nun. But what we'll find this close to the Brandywine I can't say, if you take my meaning?"  
  
Frodo understood exactly what Sam was politely trying to tell him and gave him an understanding nod. The only un-harvested apple trees were situated along a densely forested strip of the river. But how wise it would be to start collecting from there under the present conditions, he and Sam were unsure.  
  
Merry broke the silence first. He had been listening to their exchange quietly but did not much like the way the conversation was turning. As wonderful as Bag-End was compared to Brandy Hall, he felt like if he stayed indoors another day he would suffocate.  
  
"Well cousin a little mud doesn't bother me! You've been studying in that room of yours for far to long anyway! Before very much longer you will have forgotten what daylight is." He baited.  
  
Frodo knew what his cousin was trying to do. And with a gleam of amusement in his eye decided to play along. For the moment.  
  
"And just what do you mean by that Meriadoc?"  
  
Merry grinned at the use of his full name. "Oh nothing it's just that I remember what you used to be like at Brandy Hall is all. And you forget but Mother has told me that there was a time when you preferred to go swimming then learning your letters! But I suppose it was inevitable living up here in Hobbiton. They've finally got to you dear cousin, Hobbiton has tamed you and now you'll be as boring as they are!"  
  
"Hey!" Sam growled at the double insult. "Nothin wrong with Hobbiton folk, we've got more sense then to go askin for trouble messin around near water! Don't you be teasin Mr Frodo like that!"  
  
Then Sam blushed deeply at his outburst realising that for the first time ever he had raised his voice to Merry, who stood before him lips parted in surprise and delight that in trying to goad Frodo, he had discovered Sam's weakness. And a wicked smile spread across his face. Sam looked into Merry's eyes and they held his with a wicked gleam that promised payback.  
  
"Thank you Sam. At least Sam is concerned about my feelings, and you shouldn't make fun of him for it" Frodo swatted Merry with his rolled up sack before turning his attention back to the path.  
  
"My apologise Sam, I did not mean to upset you. I promise not to teases my cousin about becoming old and boring again!" Merry said.  
  
He chuckled as Frodo acknowledged the mockery with a sidelong glance, and watched as conflicting thoughts played across his cousin's pale features. He had made his comments in jest but now that he actually observed his cousin more closely he could see that Frodo was actually paler then he thought healthy. He had always been thin, that was in his blood passed from his mother's side. He shivered as those expressive blue eyes became shadowed and he wondered what it was that he had said to disturb his cousin so. He regretted his words and was about to retract them when he heard Frodo speak.  
  
"I am not old and I have no fear of the Brandywine" Frodo murmured, more to himself then to his companions. As if saying it out loud would help to convince him that it were true.  
  
He allowed his thoughts to wonder back to his days at Brandy Hall, Merry hadn't even been conceived then, Frodo smiled as he remembered his Mother and Father teaching him how to swim. He remembered the first time he went into the Brandywine and how scared he had been, but he felt safe in his mother's protective arms. His father giving him gentle encouragement to swim the six feet to him from his mother arms. He took to swimming instantly and remembered how proud his father had been, beaming down at him as his son slowly and clumsily made his way to him. After that day his father would take him swimming every day before dinner.  
  
Suddenly the warm smiling faces were ripped away as his mind jumped to another image, one that had haunted Frodo from it's happening to the present. His parents lay before him on the bank of the river where several dozen hobbits were gathered, including the members of his own household who had pulled their lifeless bodies from the Brandywine. They silently parted to allow him through, unsure themselves weather he should see more then he had already. He had been sat on the bank when it had happened, their boat had tipped and they had fallen into the water. The savage undercurrents had sucked them down and before Frodo could blink they were gone. Their cloths were soaking and their hair matted, but it was their pale faces and unseeing eyes that haunted Frodo. He would never forget the touch of their flesh, so cold. He brushed his mothers bangs from her eyes, she had always hated how no matter how hard she tried they always managed to work themselves loose and fall into her eyes. He grabbed her hand and tried to make it grip his, but when he let go it fell back lifelessly to the grass. His father was the same. He remembered hushed whispering around him and then the warm strong arms of his Aunt Esmeralda lifting him away from the dreadful scene. He never once made a sound and even as his sobbing Aunt had carried him away his eyes remained locked on his parents. He had never spoken of what he had seen or about the incident to any one, not even to his much beloved Bilbo. His silence disturbed the inhabitancies of Brandy Hall more then the tears that silently leaked from his eyes even in sleep. The tears had long since run dry but the silence on the whole accident had never been broken. Even to this day Bilbo ever so often would try to broach the subject, but Frodo would clam up and withdraw into the depths of his own mind. A habit that had taken ten years off Bilbo the first few times it had happened, the doctors could do nothing for him and had said that until he allowed himself to grieve openly he would never recover from the loss fully.  
  
Long moments passed silently. Sam exchanged a concerned glance with Merry as Frodo chewed his lower lip unconsciously before pulling himself back to the present and reaching his decision. He noticed the silent exchange between Merry and Sam and gave them a reassuring warm smile before starting out down the mud-track. When Sam and Merry didn't move to follow him he called out over his shoulder.  
  
"Come on you two! These sacks won't fill themselves you know!" He did turn around then and grinned. "Besides Uncle Bilbo will be expecting to see them filled".  
  
  
  
Tbc ~ 


	3. Apples

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far, however there are implications of a M/M relationship Merry has had in the past and hint at F/S attraction.  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: This is my first fic and I am extremely nervous…I'm usually one of the lurking members of this group so please don't shoot down my amateur efforts and force me back to lurking: I'd just like to thank those of you who were kind enough to review my work, your comments were very encouraging! I especially want to thank MarigoldG for pointing out a few errors. I know now that Sam is actually two years older then Merry! Oups! Never mind, I had a feeling I would fluff their ages. I cannot correct their ages in this fic, but will be sure to in the next story, which is set later. And a big thank you to my all time favourite fic writer XENOBIA!  
  
Thanks again!  
  
Hope you all enjoy!  
  
  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
Chapter 3: Apples!  
  
  
  
"Let us never speak of it again!" Merry moaned sarcastically as he plopped himself down on a dry patch between two apple trees. He was out of breath and covered from the waist down in a thick layer of mud, the track had become a quagmire in the denser parts of the forest, and were the sun had been unable to reach it had been virtually impossible!  
  
Frodo emerged from the forests depths and trudged into the clearing. Allowing Sam to slip from his back, poor Sam had sunk up to his chest once on the journey and that had nearly scared Frodo to death. He had insisted that the lad was to be carried by him through the rough areas. Sam had protested but in the end had been forced to give in when Frodo pulled rank, he had hated to resorting to that but Samwise was a very stubborn young hobbit and Frodo knew him well enough to know that he would never admit he needed help.  
  
Frodo and Sam sat down beside Merry, observing that whilst the Brandywine was well in flood, it had not burst its banks as Frodo and Sam had feared. As Frodo tried to catch his breath he saw for the first time in daylight unhindered by the forests canopy, just what they all looked like. Merry was lying on his back, eye's closed panting. His cloths were covered in mud and they clung to him from the waist down, upon closer inspection Frodo could see that he had a spattering of it down the left side of his face. Sam sat opposite him looking up at the trees they were to pick from; he looked uncomftable as he squirmed trying to ignore the slippery mess his breeches were in. His beautiful golden curls hung limp across his eyes, weighed down by mud from that last fall, several leaves had come to rest upon his crown and he absentmindedly picked them off.  
  
Frodo's eye's roamed over Sam protectively, mentally cursing himself for allowing Merry to goad him into making a bad decision, Bilbo would never have expected them to go through this just for apples. How were they to get back with their sacks full? He couldn't carry both Sam and two sacks of apples and neither could Merry. He sat pondering this unforeseen dilemma. Finally he realised that the path along the bank of the river was quiet sun dried compared to their forest route, and made a mental note that it would be the path they would take instead. Even if it meant having to go all the way round the outskirts of the forest to get back to Bag-End. Frodo suddenly became aware that he was being watched and realised he had been staring at Sam as he'd been following his own thought; Sam's soft brown eyes stared back.  
  
"I guess it's the long way back Mr Frodo?" Sam said as he finally got his breath back and chuckled as his Master reddened, he knew Frodo hadn't meant to stare. Frodo smiled fondly at the lad, contrary to what Sam led most hobbits to believe he was very sharp, and was often either one step ahead of his young Master when it came to practical problem solving, or could read him so well that he knew what Frodo had decided before he had even voiced it.  
  
"Yes Sam, I think that would be best". He couldn't suppress a chuckle as he looked from Merry to Sam. Sam looked from Merry to Frodo and began to laugh heartily. Merry sat up and joined in as the three of them realised just what they looked like.  
  
"Oh Frodo! I know I said that a little mud didn't bother me but this is rather a lot, and somehow I doubt if we shall be allowed back into Bag- End." He chuckled.  
  
"You wanted this Merry so you have no right to complain now!" Frodo grinned "So seen as Sam is the smallest and I am too' old' you get to be the shaker!" Merry scowled at him and he thought he heard Sam mumble under his breath a witty comment at Merry's expense. He cocked an eyebrow at Sam but said nothing.  
  
"Alright come and help me get up then!" Merry waited impatiently as Frodo leaned his back against the tree's trunk and locked his hands together. Merry stepped up and was quickly boosted up into the first V of the tree. He nearly fell right back down as his foothold slipped, the mud on his feet and cloths was making it difficult to get a good grip.  
  
Merry began to shake the tree vigorously, sending down a torrent of apples in his wake as he stepped from branch to branch. Where the tree branches interlaced with their neighbour he was able to carefully step across and begin on the next tree. Frodo and Sam in the meanwhile were hurriedly filling the sacks and trying to avoid being hit on the head, half way through their work they had pretty much got the knack of dodging, but only after Frodo had been hit once and Sam twice.  
  
Midday soon turned into evening as the three hobbits continued their work, as the last sack was filled they found themselves playing game after game. Merry slipped down from the tree into Frodo's waiting arms and only allowed himself time to stretch the various knots out of his muscles before starting a mud-fight with Frodo and Sam. Shrieks of laughter followed as the fight continued and mud flew; it finally ended with all three of them wrestling in one huge mud pile. Frodo and Sam teamed up on Merry and he ended up under the two of them, but in desperation and between fits of laughter Merry managed to whisper something to Sam. Frodo soon found the situation reversed and Merry and Sam were ruthlessly tickling him. A weakness that Merry knew of and had obviously now passed that information to Sam. Frodo screamed and convulsed and cried for mercy at their attack, which lasted for what seemed like hours, infact it had only been several minutes. They finally fell back and allowed him to rise. Now all three were covered in mud from head to toe, Frodo grinned and shot Sam a look of disbelief at his changing sides halfway through their fight. He was about to make a comment when he felt the first soft brush of a light drizzle falling. Sam shrugged and set about tying the sacks while Merry helped Frodo to his feet.  
  
"Well, now that we all look as bad as each other I guess we should start making our way back" He glanced at Merry then. "And thank you very much for not telling anyone about me being ticklish, I believe that's what we agreed wasn't it?" He teased, "Yes that's right you promised not to tell if I would make sure never to tell anyone what I found you doing in…. Mmummmf!" His words were cut short as Merry firmly planted a hand over Frodo's mouth before his cousin could continue. He looked to see if Sam had heard but Sam was still tying the last sack and seemed not to notice the exchange.  
  
"Alright Frodo, alright! Have a heart! I forgot" He removed his hand as he felt Frodo's grin widen and knew that his cousin could see him blushing under the streaks of mud. Then a wicked thought crossed his mind, *two can play at this game! *.  
  
"I don't think it was so bad telling Sam, just think of the hours of fun you can have" He stepped back to gage Frodo's reaction. Frodo's grin vanished in an instant, Merry observed the tips of his ears had turned red as he started to trace circles in the mud with his big toe, and with a smirk he continued. "I think he's sweet on you".  
  
"Merry!" Frodo scolded and made sure his voice would not carry. "Don't be so rude and ridiculous! Sam is still a child!" he sputtered.  
  
"Not a child cousin! Not much younger then I was when…" He broke off suddenly shy. "When you found me that time at the Inn" Merry whispered as he watched Sam.  
  
"He's growing fast and from what I have seen these last few days, has eyes are only for you!" He grinned and started to munch on an apple. "You know there's nothing wrong with fancying a lad Frodo if that's what your concerned about, true it's not spoken about but I know a good few in Buckland and Tookborough who prefer to remain 'bachelors'".  
  
Frodo considered his cousin's words for a moment. Merry was right in one respect, after living in Hobbiton for so long he was not used to being able to speak as freely about 'personal' matters as he had been able in Buckland. Not that he ever had for he preferred to keep his own business to himself, but still the option had been there. Hobbiton was very stuffy in that sense.  
  
Merry had caught him by surprise and the Brandybuck knew it! As he watched Frodo's gaze drift back to Sam, a sadness crept into those beautiful deep blue eyes and for a moment they lost some of their sparkle; Merry fancied he could actually see a darkness wrap around his cousin before he finally spoke.  
  
"I would never take advantage of Sam like that, he is one of my best friends…and I would never do anything to hurt him" He said softly and began to heave his sack onto his back.  
  
"I don't think you'd be taking advantage of him Frodo, you cannot cut yourself off from those who love you for ever" He gently placed a hand on his shoulder. But Frodo pulled away, stung by Merry's accurate observations and cursed himself for allowing his feelings to be so easily read.  
  
"Merry please, take the hint. I don't want to talk about this again. Sam is my friend. There is nothing more to be said". He knew his cousin for all his teasing was trying to help him, but there was no way Frodo was going to jeopardize his friendship with Sam for his oddities. He shot Merry a quick smile that Merry knew was forced, but nodded.  
  
When Frodo reached Sam the younger hobbit was already waiting on the path, he frowned when he noticed a strained silence between Frodo and Merry. He shot Merry a questioning look but Merry just shook his head.  
  
"S' everything alright Mr Frodo" He asked finally.  
  
"Oh, yes Sam! We better hurry before the weather gets any worse. Come on before we all catch our deaths" He chuckled then "Although with any luck we should be a good deal cleaner" His voice was cheerful but his eyes were not, but Sam knew Frodo would talk to him about whatever it was that had upset him later if he wanted to.  
  
As they made their way along the edge of the Brandywine a light breeze began to blow and to their dismay the sky was fast becoming overcast. A storm was brewing and they still had several miles of dirt track ahead of them before it opened up and allowed them to pass into the green fields that surrounded Hobbiton.  
  
  
  
Tbc ~ 


	4. Footfall

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Well I'm completely gob smacked that you all like it! I was completely convinced I was going to make a fool of myself. Thank you once again and especially to Kyaku who noticed Merry's unusual attitude. There is a reason.  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 4: Footfall  
  
  
  
They had been walking for over an hour when the light breeze that blew drizzle gained strength. Sam looked up from his burden into the darkening sky and realised that they were fast loosing the light; they would have to quicken their pace considerably if they were to reach Bag-End before dark. It was not spoken but communicated all the same. Frodo quickened his pace as they walked single file along the bank, every now and then he would hazard a glance at the now angry waters that rushed past, too close were they for his liking. In the dimming light Frodo saw the river transform into the liquid smooth motion of red dragon scales rushing past, he shook his head and the image dissolved. *Too many tales my Lad* He scolded and swallowed audibly, locking his eyes to the path once again.  
  
The soft mud was yielding to their weight more and more the further they travelled, but in another half hour they would reach the edge of the Wood's and would then be able to cut up, back, and across the fields. They had reached the halfway point. A hushed silence had befallen the three; it was abruptly broken by a cry from Merry. Unbeknownst to the boys, the river had been slowly eroding the soft earth underneath the path they now travelled. Weeks of rain had caused the natural process of erosion to increase tenfold, and though they did not know it, every footfall brought them closer to disaster!  
  
Disaster struck when Sam, who was between Frodo and Merry, dropped his sack with a startled cry as the path gave way beneath him. Before Frodo knew what had happened Merry abandoned his load and shot forward to grab Sam's flailing hand as he disappeared from sight.  
  
"Frodo!" Merry screamed as he felt himself slip from the path and was pulled into the freezing depths of the Brandywine headfirst. There was a moment of pure terror as his head sank beneath the water, they tumbled together over and over until neither of them knew up from down, but Merry held fast to Sam and groped at the edge of the bank until his hand snagged a tree root. His fingers locked around it and he pulled his head above the surface. He looked to Sam and discovered that he was still submerged, the current was battering his outstretched arm but he gritted his teeth and yanked hard. Sam burst from the water spluttering, gasping and completely disorientated. In the distance they heard Frodo's frantic cries, his voice was barely recognisable it had risen so high.  
  
"Sam! Merry! Where are yooooou?" He continued down the path slipping and sliding as he ran, letting his eyes scan the water for signs of his friends. In his head a voice kept repeating one sentence *Not again! Please Elbereth not again! Not again, not again! *  
  
His frantic search was rewarded finally when he spotted Merry clinging to a tree root and gripping a coughing and spluttering Samwise. He dashed forward but was forced to slow down when he realised how brittle the bank was, he reached out his arm as far as he could stretch whilst twisting his foot securely around another old tree root. Merry's teeth were chattering as Frodo leaned over towards him. In the dim light Frodo could tell that his lips were darker then they should be and he shook uncontrollably, Sam huddled pale and silent, eye's half closed in Merry's arm. Sam's big heavy lidded brown eyes stared up at him full of drowsiness and fear, for Sam could not swim and Frodo knew he feared any water deeper then his knees.  
  
Suddenly the root Merry was gripping snapped under the strain. With a strangled cry he fell back, Frodo's hand locked around his wrist with bruising force and a small cry escaped him.  
  
"I've got you! Hold on and I'll pull you up" He grunted under their combined weight.  
  
Frodo soon realised after several failed attempts that the current was simply to strong, he had to act fast before the two of them froze to death.  
  
"Merry see if you can swing Sam to me" He unclamped his left hand from the grass verge so that all their weight hung from his right foot, reaching down he held it out towards Sam.  
  
"Sam! Sam can you hear me?" He shouted but got no response. "Sam take my hand, please, please try!"  
  
Finally Sam managed to reach out a frozen arm, just enough for Frodo to grip, he gasped as he felt the cold flesh. His mind snapped back to his parents and how they had felt when they…. No! He shook his head and with a sudden burst of energy yanked Sam so hard he was pulled clean out of the water and landed heavily on the bank. Frodo's fingers had become so cold that they stung and were slow to respond to his command and his shoulder joint protested loudly at the sudden wrenching weight of Sam, but it wasn't over yet, now for Merry. Once out of the water Sam mustered enough strength to sit up, leaning heavily against the same tree Frodo hung from, he felt very tired and even though his friends were still in trouble it didn't seem to matter. He closed his eyes.  
  
"Frodo?" Merry breathed between chattering teeth. "I…c-can't feel.. m-m-my  
  
l-l-l-leeg'ssss…any..morrre".  
  
"Easy Merry I have you! I have you!" But his earlier energy was starting to fade and the cold air that was biting at his exposed arms and face was draining his body control. He managed to hoist Merry out of the water so that he was now gripping him by the seat of his breeches and threw his other arm around his cousin's waist. The arm that held Merry's waist trembled; its hand was already unresponsive and hung limp and useless as Frodo desperately tried to lift Merry further.  
  
"Merry…Merry, you've g-got to h-h-help m-me". He wheezed. "Try to p-pull yourself..up-p".  
  
Frodo lay very still as Merry slowly managed to rouse his arms and pull himself up and over his cousin. He paused to catch his breath and wiggled his toes as he felt a flicker of life return to them. He could hear his cousins laboured breathing under his weight. One last push and he could roll onto the bank. Merry panted heavily and was surprised when Sam's hand latched onto his shirtfront, he grabbed his arm and pushed as Sam pulled and he slid from Frodo onto the path in a sprawl. Merry managed to smile a thank you to Sam before they heard a terrible sound.  
  
As Frodo brought his trembling hands back to the grass verge to find a grip there came a painful creak that was quickly followed by a sharp deafening snap as the tree root gave way. Frodo teetered on the edge long enough to cry out before he fell forward and his scream was cut short as water rushed into his mouth.  
  
Tbc ~ 


	5. The Lonely

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Hi again! Thanks again for your kind interest, and I'd like to say thank you to the following: Trianne, Emerald, Lynne and MelodySongSinger! Thanks also to Mindel – Ye s I am wicked to the hobbits but aren't we all?  
  
Now I've been consulting my huge Tolkein Encyclopaedia on the shire and for some reason even though the shire actually comprises of FIVE main areas: Hobbiton, Tuckborough, Michel Delving, Oatbarton, and Frogmorton, and a dozen other smaller areas. They still call it The Four Fathings. I don't know hands up! Hobbits!  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 5: The Lonely  
  
Frodo chocked, as ice cold water rushed into his mouth and the world around him was abruptly snatched away. He managed to fight his way to the surface and gulp down as much air as he was able before the current pulled him under again. Kicking his legs with all his might he managed to break the surface a second time and stay there, through stinging slightly blurred eyes he looked around. With a small cry he realised that he had been washed into the very centre of the river and was moving fast! Faster then any horse he had ridden. The bank flew past in a blur and he realised that his friends were very far away from him now.  
  
  
  
"Frodo! Noooooooooooooo!" Sam screamed as he watched his beloved Master disappear round the rivers bend. He couldn't remember how, but found himself standing, his earlier weakness shrugged off. He looked to Merry who was making agonizing sounds of pain as he tried to rise and failed, slumping back to the ground.  
  
No matter how he willed them, his knees would not lock to hold his weight. He was freezing cold and a mess, his shirt hung wide open where the river had ripped the buttons from it and he could just make out his breath in the dark as he exhaled. His light-brown locks had fallen into his eyes and were making it difficult for him to locate the younger hobbit he knew was somewhere near by. He located Sam by the painfully loud chocks he was making as he tried to breath. Merry's limp curls parted enough for him to see Sam had managed to stand; their eye's meet and Merry could see him hesitate in his dilemma.  
  
"Go!" Was all he managed to pant, barely above a whisper, as his head grew heavier then it should and he sank back to the ground, allowing his cheek to rest uncomfortably in the mud.  
  
Sam heard and it was enough.  
  
He ran down the path, unable to call out, he didn't have the strength to waste. His pace was slowing and his lungs burned as he sucked in and choked on the cool air. He felt awful, his head was pounding and every joint ached, but refused to give up. He was walking now and great sobs shook his body as he realised there was no way he could outrun the river, he slumped to the floor as his strength failed. He felt so tired. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt so sleepy, he thought of Frodo and tears leaked from his eyes, he then thought of his father. How disappointed he would be when he found him.  
  
Hamfast was extremely proud of his youngest Son; his mother had always said to Sam's delight that he and his father were alike. But Sam felt wretched; his Father would never have allowed anything as terrible as this to happen. He would have found a way!  
  
Sam's eyes surrendered and he saw no more as he allowed the darkness to take him.  
  
  
  
When Merry opened his eyes again he was alone in the dark. The sound of the river to his left drown out all other noises that he would have expected to hear from the forest. He felt the thick fabric of his breeches, they were soaking wet and yet the water they held felt strangely warm against his flesh. His braces were missing and his shirt was ripped, and only held in place by its sleeves. One pale shoulder lay exposed to the night air and it hurt worse then the time he had been stung from head to toe.  
  
Merry remembered how he and Frodo used to go off adventuring. The shire comprised of four main areas, called the Four Fathings. He and Frodo had made a pact to explore each area together, and over many months they made great progress. They had already explored Hobbiton (though Frodo knew it well Merry did not), and Oatbarton (Bilbo would have been very angry to know they had strayed that far), and Tuckborough.  
  
They were returning from a daylong trip to Michel Delving, Frodo was anxious for it had taken them much longer to walk back then he had anticipated and he knew that Bilbo would be worried. Merry had suggested that they take a short cut across some of the farmland; they had done it before long ago when scrumping for mushrooms. But to their dismay, halfway across the last empty field they realised, with quite a measure of panic, that a huge dark boar was pursuing them. It had been watching them since they first entered its territory and had hidden itself in the surrounding undergrowth and had slowly crept up on them until it trotted less then a few yards behind them.  
  
They ran as fast as their legs would carry them towards the opposite wall, the boar in hot pursuit. Merry had launched himself headfirst over the thick stone wall while Frodo had scuttled up the old lightning-tree that leaned heavily against the wall. The boar had squeaked and squealed and butted the tree in fury at their escape, tearing chunks from the base of its dead trunk. But it had only been a temporary save for they had a lot of explaining to do when they returned to Bag-End. Frodo's arms and legs covered in splinter, and Merry covered from head to toe in Nettle rash. Yes, those were the days. Less then two years had passed since then and yet it was a lifetime ago, when Merry still felt young and carefree.  
  
He tried to lift his head to look around for the others but it was too heavy.  
  
"Sam?" He choked. His head hurt and for a moment he wasn't quite sure where he was. Then it all came back to him. Frodo. He sobbed and tried to rise again, but he couldn't feel anything, his body was as cold as ice, yet strangely he didn't feel cold, or hot. He felt nothing at all.  
  
Frodo fought against an overwhelming desire to close his eyes, if only for a moment. He realised that if he did he would never open them again, and he did not want to leave his Uncle.  
  
"Bilbo" He sobbed softly.  
  
Suddenly he found himself sucked down by the current once more. It was so strong! It was hard to remember which way was up, for the water was very clouded with mud and weed that had been ripped from the riverbed.  
  
His eyes burned as dirt washed into them and he squeezed them tightly shut as he tumbled through the depths. The back of his outstretched hand brushed thick mud and his kneel scraped across stone and thick soft weed. He was dimly aware that his knee was starting to sting and he knew that it was bleeding. He was at the very bottom of the river, and the undercurrents were working hard to ensure that he stay there as he found himself spinning round and round in a whirlpool. He managed to blindly right himself so that he faced upwards at least, and gave a sharp kick at the ground with all his remaining strength.  
  
It wasn't enough. His lungs felt like they were on fire, his ears hurt and he shook uncontrollably. Then his body stopped shaking and he felt a wave of warmth flow through him. He opened his eyes for they no longer hurt and stared into the thick nothingness that had enveloped him, nothing had changed and yet it had. He felt the last of the air leave his body and watched as the bubbles floated from his open mouth to be swept away. With surprising calm and a tinge of regret he realised that he had nothing more to give.  
  
One name reached his blue lips and was formed before they too, like the rest of his body became slack and lifeless.  
  
"Sam"  
  
  
  
Tbc 


	6. Sound the Alarm

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Greetings! O.k., first of all I'd like to say thanks to Emerald and Lynne, glad your still enjoying the fic! I love reading your feedback, and if there's anything I'm screwing up on, let me know (No Flames please!). And Haleth asked: How could I kill Frodo? Answer: Many ways, and someone had to!  
  
Mindel wanted to know if the torture will ever end? ….No! Hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.  
  
By the way for all of you who haven't already found out…Xenobia has updated several of her LOTR's fic's…MUST READS!  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 6: Sound the Alarm  
  
  
  
Bilbo's head shot up from the sentence he had been writing. His hand pressed down heavily on the quill and it made a scratching sound of protest as the nib flayed under the pressure. He looked down at his shaking hand and to the blob of ink that leaked across the page marring the delicate spidery writing. He had ruined not only his pen but the last hour's work as well.  
  
*Oh botheration! Old fool! * He mentally scolded himself.  
  
The earlier feel of unrest had returned to him so suddenly that he'd been taken completely off guard, he stood and walked to the window. To his surprise it was dark when he peered out, time had escaped him, for the sky had turned grey and first stars of the night glinted from behind even darker clouds. It was raining steadily.  
  
Bilbo shook his head in dismay and smiled to himself, he hadn't missed a meal since returning from his adventure with the dwarves many years before, until today. He frowned then, wandering why Frodo hadn't called him to dinner. His young cousin often helped prepare meals and under Samwise's careful supervision was starting to become quiet good!  
  
He grinned to himself; Merry on the other hand was a complete menace to himself and others when in the kitchen. He had once in his enthusiasm to treat Frodo and himself to a surprise breakfast in bed, almost set the Kitchen on fire!  
  
*That boy! Still his heart was in the right place* He mused.  
  
Picking up his cup and swallowing the last gulp of cold tea he run his fingers through his thick light brown curls, they were just starting to become flecked with silver. He opened the door and walked briskly towards the kitchen.  
  
His stomach which had started to rumble in anticipation of dinner, clenched painfully and he felt as if someone had placed a great weight upon his chest as he found it difficult to breath. The kitchen was silent and empty.  
  
  
  
  
  
Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!  
  
Before Hamson could even rise from his chair by the fire to answer the door it was rapped on again, louder and more rapidly.  
  
"Alright! Alright I heard ya!" He shouted in irritation at having to leave his nice comfortable, warm seat. Daisy pocked her head out of the kitchen still holding the plate she was drying.  
  
Hamson opened the door to discover a dripping wet rather frantic Bilbo.  
  
"Master Bilbo! Sir, sorry I took so long to answer the door, if I'd a known it were you I'd have hurried faster! Come in, come in!"  
  
Gratefully Bilbo allowed himself to be ushered in, still puffing a bit from the run. It was very unhobbitlike for a grown hobbit to be in a hurry to do anything, and was seen as very distasteful and rude to do so. But such was the fear that washed through Bilbo's mind that he simply didn't care.  
  
"Hello my boy, my apologue's for calling at such a late hour but it's very important" He finally caught his breath and composed himself "Can you tell me if Frodo, Sam, and Merry are here?"  
  
Hamson frowned and Bilbo's hopes were dashed, he already knew the answer before it was spoken.  
  
"I'm sorry Sir but no. I thought our Sam was stayin with Mr Frodo and Mr Merry at Bag-End with yourself".  
  
"Yes he is" Bilbo pursed his lips in a bid to calm the bile in his stomach that was slowly starting to rise to his throat.  
  
"Could you get your father lad, I need to speak with him in private".  
  
"Yes Sir, right away!"  
  
Hamson realising the urgency of the situation sped out the backdoor, down into the old wooden garden shed where Hamfast was busy tending a small crop of mushrooms.  
  
"Would you like a cup of tea Mr Bilbo?" Offered May, who had been helping Daisy with her washing up choirs.  
  
Bilbo smiled and declined the offer. Just then Hamson returned closely followed by his father. Hamfast took the cloth that his youngest daughter handed him and quickly cleaned the soft, delicate soil from his hands before offering one to Bilbo.  
  
"Good evening Master Bilbo" He smiled warmly as Bilbo shook his hand firmly. "Is all well? My son told me you wanted a word in private". One look at the old hobbits face was answer enough. He motioned Bilbo down one of the many side corridors of Bagshot Row and through a plain wooden door, which lead into a very small, cluttered room.  
  
This room was infact one of the few rooms that Bilbo had never entered in all his long years of knowing Hamfast. It had no windows he observed as Hamfast carefully lit a lamp, turning it up high to revealing the room, which whilst small, was immaculately kept with a small fireplace in the centre of the far wall. Various documents of sale and receipts were filled in alphabetical order on the shelves to his right, and a ledger lay open on the table to his left with a single sheet of loose parchment resting on top, upon a brief glance Bilbo recognised the careful round delicate writing to be in Sam's hand. And with a grin he realised that the piece of writing was in fact one of the elven songs Bilbo had taught him.  
  
Hamfast motioned Bilbo to a soft seat opposite himself beside the fire, noticing that Bilbo was soaked through and had obviously left Bag-End in a dreadful hurry, for he had even forgotten his coat and cloak. He smiled as he followed Bilbo's gaze to the open ledger.  
  
"Aye Sir, I admit I was unsure weather I should let Sam learn his letters at first, t'seemed a lot of time away from his work. But I'm glad that he did. He's taken to it like duck to water and has saved this family a lot of bother at the market place, thought I don't think you'll be getting any thanks from one or two hobbit-folk from Bree!"  
  
Bilbo's grin broadened as he faced the gardener.  
  
No names were mentioned for the Gaffer was an honest man of principle, and would have found it too much like gossip to name names. But Bilbo knew the hobbits and the incident of which he spoke; indeed it had reached his ears some time ago from Frodo, who had been as incensed as Samwise if not more so.  
  
The gaffer could neither read nor write, nor any members of his family save Sam. He was an honest hard worker and well respected throughout the Shire, for there was no other that could rival his knowledge of growing vegetables and anything to do with root. And his position as gardener at Bag-End meant that for the most part, his inability to read never became a problem. All hobbits as far a field as Buckland and Tuckborough knew that the Gamgee family in general were not to be mistreated in any way, or they would answer to Bilbo.  
  
However a few years ago, late one harvest season, two hobbits arrived in the Shire from Bree looking for vegetables to buy. They had already missed the main trading and had been forced to travel the considerable distance to the Shire, hoping to find what they may before the season changed. Upon inquiring at 'The Ivy Bush' Inn on the Bywater road they were pointed towards Hamfast Gamgee's door, were they viewed the last of the produce that was for sale.  
  
Samwise had come back just in time, for the wily pair had discovered his fathers weakness, and were in the process of duping him into signing a document for twice what Hamfast had to offer, at half the agreed price. It was as close to seeing his father in a fight as Sam had ever come, for Hamfast physically threw the two from his property. They left in disgrace and were never seen in the Shire again.  
  
"It was my pleasure Hamfast, my pleasure, he's a fast learner" He paused then and got straight to the point of his late visit.  
  
"Hamfast, I sent the lads out apple picking today, what with the break in the weather. I thought it would do them some good to get some fresh air…but they have not returned and I'm becoming very anxious"  
  
He sighed frustratedly and continued, "I was hoping that they had called in here and forgotten the time, but Hamson informed me they haven't been seen."  
  
"What time were they last seen?"  
  
"Midday" Bilbo watched as Hamfast leaned forward in his chair, the muscles under his jaw clenched as he rubbed his large, rough hands together, digesting this unsettling piece of news.  
  
"It's not like Sam to miss a meal," He said at length.  
  
"Frodo has never had a big appetite much to my dismay, but he knows how I worry and always at least makes an appearance. And Merry! Well even if the smial was on fire the lad wouldn't leave his meal!"  
  
"I see where your pointing Mr Bilbo…I'm jus tryin to remember which trees have already been harvested this season, that should give us some idea where our boys have gone to".  
  
He gazed at the fire for a moment "Well if I remember correctly the only trees I can think of still with fruit, are the ones halfway to Bywater Pool"  
  
Bilbo paled. He looked rounded eyed to Hamfast, his hard won composure finally crumbled.  
  
"The Brandywine's in full flood" He shook "What have I done?"  
  
"Unless you brought this weather I don't know how you did any wrong. You weren't to know, and my Sam knows better then to go near a river in flood, well find em".  
  
  
  
Tbc ~ 


	7. Promise

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Sorry about the delay all, but I've been told by my folks not to waste time writing 'that crap!'  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 7: Promise  
  
*Frodo*  
  
*Frodo*  
  
*Hear me my love. Come on. Yes that's right come back… follow my voice! *  
  
Frodo blinked. Once, twice, and found that he could focus his eyes again. But couldn't remember were he was at first. He felt himself floating, and realised with a start that he was underwater. Yet where as before the water bit savagely at his soft, smooth, adolescent body, now it felt warm and wonderful.  
  
The current no longer tossed and turned him, instead he found himself suspended a few feet from the riverbed as warm water caressed him, coaxing life back into his aching limps.  
  
*Where am I? * His mind raced, *I remember Sam and Merry and apple picking and then…. Oh*  
  
He sobbed as he desperately tried to find understanding *this isn't right! I should be dead, or am I? How long had he been in the water I wonder? *  
  
*Frodo*  
  
He turned around slowly, searching for the owner of that soft, beautiful, feminine voice that called to him so insistently and helped to warm his soul.  
  
*Is this what it's like to be dead? * He mused.  
  
*No love* Floated the reply, followed by a soft chuckle.  
  
As Frodo squinted he could just make out a pale blue light working it's way towards him through the darkness.  
  
For some reason that Frodo could not account for, he felt no fear as the light came to float before him. It shone brightly and as he watched, it started to sparkle at its outer rim and began to slowly change shape. The light in its centre pulsated faster until the light became painful to look upon and he threw his arm over his eyes protectively.  
  
*How can I feel pain if I am dead? I don't understand. *  
  
When the blinding light paled once more the figure of a woman floated before him, Frodo gasped before launching himself happily into her outstretched arms.  
  
*Mama! *  
  
As solid arms encircled him and drew him into a strong embrace, he buried his face in her neck and felt something that he had not felt in years. Home.  
  
He felt her fingers stroking through his curls the way they always had when he needed comforting and her other arm circled his small waist, keeping him pressed to her protectively. He began to cry, feeling all the sleepless nights, waking dreams and years of tortured loneliness washed away in those few precious moments.  
  
*Shhhh, there, there my little fish. Let it all out*  
  
An exhausted laugh burst from his lips at the use of his old pet name.  
  
*Mama I missed you and Papa so much! * He pulled back from the embrace just enough to see her face *Where is Papa? Is he here? Can I see him? *  
  
She smiled sadly at him for a few moments, allowing her fingers to slowly trace the contours of his delicate face. He leaned into her touch as he always had done and she continued memorising every detail, every change.  
  
She grasped his hand and examined it, running her figures backwards and forwards over the silken smooth skin before his hand captured hers and brought it to rest over his beating heart. Her boy was growing into a man, and a heart breaker he would be, if ever there were a hobbit as fair of face as her son she could not recall.  
  
She reluctantly pulled her hand free, time was short and there was much that needed to be said, she would not get a second chance.  
  
*Papa was not allowed to come Honey* she paused before continuing *But he sends you his love and wants you to know that we are always with you, in all that you do…and all that you will become* She finished.  
  
*Why not? Who wont let him? I don't under…No* His mind whispered as he looked into his mothers pleading eyes.  
  
Her bangs floated into her face and she absentmindedly brushed them back behind her ears. The gesture, so familiar broke his tiny hobbit heart as understanding weighed heavily on him.  
  
She hated the emotions that leaked into his sapphire eyes. He understood that this was goodbye. And he crushed himself to her, locking his arms and legs around her in shear desperation.  
  
*Nononononononon…. Please mama! Please! Don't make me go! * He begged in between ragged sobs *I want to stay with you; I don't want to go back. It's not fair…it's not fair*.  
  
*I know it's not fair, I know. But it's not your time* She whispered to the mop of curls that shook against her shoulder *the years go by so fast…do you really want to leave your Uncle Bilbo? *  
  
Primula felt her sons head shake once and smiled, silently blessing Bilbo.  
  
*You have to be brave my love; your Uncle is very old, though he does not seem it…and he loves you very much. I don't know what he would do if he lost you*. She paused *your all he has in this world and I want you to promise me something Frodo*  
  
She brushed the soft dark curls that floated before his eyes and stared deeply *I want you to take care of your Uncle for us, will you do that? He's more fragile then he seems*  
  
Frodo nodded miserably, he loved his Uncle dearly but he missed his parents more, he felt terribly torn and very alone. His emotions overcame him for he was still only a tweenager when all was said and done.  
  
*I don't want to go! I wont go! * He shouted.  
  
*It's too late Frodo, it's already done* She pulled him back enough to look upon his face once last time and kissed his cheek. *Promise me* She begged for she sensed that their time together was at an end.  
  
The water surrounding them began to spin; Frodo watched in terror as within the blink of an eye it rose up to rage around them, they had to shout to one another to be heard over the deafening roar.  
  
*Please don't make me go I want to stay! Don't leeeeave meeeeee! *  
  
*Promise me* She repeated.  
  
Like a knife through butter the water cut between the grief-stricken pair and Frodo was ripped away from his mother grasp. He screamed and screamed, kicking with all his strength trying to make his way back to her, but the water quickly carried him away, until all he could see of her was a pale light. It pulsed several times before it vanished.  
  
*We love you son, we'll always be with you*  
  
Came the unmistakable voice of his father as Frodo found himself pushed from the river, up and onto cold solid rock. Only dimly aware that he was no longer in the Brandywine, he was forced to respond to his body's demand. Taking in great lungfull's of air, choking and retched river water at the same time.  
  
The wind began to bit once again and he realised he was naked, none of these things mattered. Frodo's heart was broken for a second time. As he lay there exposed and freezing he thought about the things that his mother had said and reached a decision.  
  
He opened his eyes and looked around. He discovered he was lying on his stomach on top of a water-smoothed rock by the edge of the Brandywine. The rock was half buried beneath the water with its right section disappearing into the bank just a few inches beneath the dirt track.  
  
He didn't know exactly where he was but knew he was still in Hobbiton by the unique, sweet smell of the earth combined with the scent of grass. Gritting his teeth he grasped the smooth rock and began to drag himself, slowly, away from the river and across the track. When he reached the soft grass on the opposite side of the path he allowed himself to collapse, panting into the tall grass.  
  
"I promise," he whispered, before exhaustion took him.  
  
Tbc 


	8. Lost & Found

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Oh it's been one of those nights; I thought I'd post two chapters this weekend to help make up for the slow week!  
  
Big thank you to Rachel! Many, many thanks for your very thorough and constructive observations! They are appreciated and I enjoy reading them. The hobbit age's I knew were wrong, for they were a constant source of frustration to me, there is just such a huge age gap between Frodo to Sam to Merry (Pip not even being around yet), that I had to bend there ages a tad…well alright, a lot!  
  
The distance from Hobbiton to Buckland I believe can be covered in two days on pony, that was an oversight on my part early on in the fic when I really didn't take the time to consider these things, I do now. Well spotted.  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 8: Lost & Found  
  
It was ten o'clock in the Shire when the four anxious hobbits left number three Bagshot Row, they were all thankful the rain had subsided. Bilbo had quickly returned to Bag-End to retrieve his coat and cloak, Hamson had accompanied him at his fathers request. While Bilbo crammed several old leather travel bags with just about his entire stoke of thick woollen blankets, and a few other necessities, Hamson hitched up Bilbo's cart.  
  
Bilbo flew from the smial slamming the door on his way out, he threw the two travel bags into the back of the cart and jumped up to sit beside Hamson. Hamson motioned the pony forward with the rains but it stubbornly refused to move, he tried again a little more forcefully, but the pony only nayed in annoyance and stamped it's hoof. Bilbo took the rains and hooked them through a small metal loop; in a clear crisp voice he issued a command.  
  
"On Trixiebell"  
  
Hamson said nothing, he had realised for himself long ago that almost everything to do with the Bagginses was a bit queer and this was no exception. He never understood, and often teased his youngest brother relentlessly about the amount of time he spent in and out of bag-End.  
  
Whilst he agreed wholeheartedly that young Mr Frodo was a kind and gentle hobbit, he didn't like his impressionable brother associating with anyone who had as much Brandybuck blood in him as Frodo, to say nothing of the rumours that had been circulating surrounding his parent's deaths.  
  
*Their trouble and they'll led you ta trouble mark my words* He remembered saying to Sam one evening just before bed.  
  
Sam had been chatting non-stop about the hike he, Merry and Frodo had been on that day and how he'd managed to climb a tree for the first time all by himself. His brother had been appalled at the mere notion of climbing anything other than the hill to Bag-End let alone a tree! Very unhobbitlike and most unnatural. They'd ended up in a fight and both had gotten the strap that night, Hamson for teasing Sam and disrespecting the Bagginses, and Sam for cursing his older brother in front of his mother (who had come in to investigate the raised voices that had floated through to the kitchen), and fighting in the house.  
  
The pony instantly broke into a trot. As they approached Bagshot Row, Hamson jumped from the cart and rushed to relieve his father of the armful he was carrying, which consisted of several long thick coils of rope, a pick, three spare lanterns to add to Bilbo's two, more blankets, a long knife which he did not know his father possessed, and his fathers old walking stick.  
  
As Hamfast climbed up to sit beside Bilbo he noted that the old hobbit was wearing a very thick, brown, leather belt from which hung a sword. Its intricately carved hilt gleamed in the soft light from the lanterns. He flicked his eyes back to Bilbo's face, he was staring ahead into the darkness, waiting for Halfred, Hamfast's second eldest to finish securing the equipment.  
  
Hamfast saw something that he had never seen in his employer's eyes before. Bilbo's normally warm brown, mischievous eye's, which usually radiated life, were cold and unreadable. His face was set and jaw clenched. He looked more like a battle-hardened solider than the gentlehobbit and Master of Bag-End (or at least he looked how Hamfast thought a battle hardened solider would look for he had never travelled out of the shire). It was only then in that moment that Hamfast truly realised how changed his Master had become after his wonderings with the outlandish folk, and wondered for the first time what those eye's had seen to harden them so.  
  
Bilbo turned to face him and caught him staring. He forced a small smile that didn't quiet reach his eyes and gave a small nod, subconsciously he pulled his cloak over his right hip, concealing the sword.  
  
Halfred's extra weight in the back of the cart signified it was time to leave, Bell approached the cart with little Marigold wrapped in a soft woollen shawl. She kissed her boys one by one before approaching her husband, she held Marigold up enough so that her father could kiss her goodnight, it was way past her bedtime.  
  
"Be careful"  
  
"I always am Bell, now go back inside before you and the nipper freeze"  
  
Bell nodded and looked round her husband to Bilbo. "Master Baggins …Good luck to you Sir. Is there anything we can do for you at all? I shan't sleep till I know my Sam and your boys are safe so I'd rather be doing something of use"  
  
Bilbo could see she was putting on a brave face in front of her children but she was on the verge of crying, her eye's had become impossible wide and glistened at their edge. Then it struck him; yes there was something that he needed done.  
  
"Yes there is" He cleared his throat "If it's not too much trouble… could you ask either Daisy or May to go to Bag-End and light the fires in the kitchen, dinning-room and in Frodo's bedroom, I should like it nice and hot for him, he's not got much insulation of his own" he chuckled but it died in mid flow and sounded painful. He was forced to look away for fear his own emotions would overrun him.  
  
"I'll send both girls up with your leave Sir, many hands make light work, and the sooner the fires are lit the better"  
  
Bilbo cracked a small smile "Thank you Mrs Gamgee, tell them if they get hungry to help themselves, I don't know how long we will be"  
  
"Now go on inside and wait," Hamfast said impatiently, the sooner he knew his son was all right the easier he would feel "Just in case they wander back on their own while were gone" He added in a softer tone.  
  
Bell patted his knee understandingly and disappeared inside. Bilbo ordered Trixiebell on and they were off.  
  
  
  
They covered the distance between Bagshot Row and the secluded apple orchard in good time, the cart was well made and most importantly for it's passenger's, well sprung. There was little conversation on the journey, only the two lads in the back chattered between themselves, Bilbo remained silent for the most part only breaking his silence to shout a command to Trixiebell. Hamfast respected Bilbo's silence, he knew that he was blaming himself for the whole affair and nothing anybody said was going to change that until the lads were safe.  
  
They finally reached their destination and Trixiebell obediently pulled off the road and as far along the fields as she was able before Bilbo deemed it to muddy for the cart. The forest lay stretched out in front of them as they each took a lantern and distributed the equipment between them. Hamson and Halfred were to search north west of the path while Bilbo and Hamfast searched East towards Bywater.  
  
They had barely gone their separate ways when the two adults heard a loud shout from Hamson followed by a curse from Halfred. Bilbo and Hamfast ran quickly back down the path, turning the corner where the edge of the forest began, they were able to see the soft glow from the lanterns further up the track. They could make out two silhouettes against the light and quickened their pace as they saw them crouched over something.  
  
"Sam!"  
  
Hamfast thought his heart was going to beat right through his chest, as he gently turned his youngest son's lifeless body onto his back, brushing the wet curls from his cold waxen face. There was no response, and he reluctantly touched his fingers to the side of Sam's neck and waited.  
  
Halfred shook and started to babble as his eyes shot back and forward from his brother's motionless body to his father's grave features.  
  
"We jus' found him like that Pa, bu we didn't want ta move him and he wouldn't wake up! hewouldn'twakeup!" His words ran together and became impossibly high pitched as panic gripped him. Hamson was forced clamped his hand over his hysterical brothers mouth, but couldn't control the tears that had started to burn down his own cheeks. He stifled his own sob and drew his shaking brother into a tight embrace as they waited silently for their father to speak.  
  
Hamfast released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and his voice had a ragged edge to it when he spoke.  
  
"He's breathin…we need ta get him outta these cloths"  
  
Bilbo sighed with relief and wiped the sweat from his brow before rummaging through his leather pack. In the meanwhile Halfred and Hamson were helping their father to strip Sam of his sodden clothing. Hamfast lifted Sam gentle when they were done, allowing Bilbo to wrap one of the huge thick woollen blankets around him until only Sam's face was visible. Hamfast pulled his son onto his lap, allowing his head to rest against his broad shoulder, rubbing his back in strong fast circles. As he felt warmth returning to the boy he gentle began to call his name. Bilbo was busy repeating a similar action, placing Sam's foot under one arm he took the other and began to work life back into it.  
  
Sam stirred with a soft moan and opened his eye's a crack, he wasn't quite sure where he was or what was happening, all he knew what that he had never in his life felt so sore and cold, his chest hurt and his head seemed to pound in time to his heart. He began the shiver and was forced to close his eyes for a few moments, he heard his father call his name again, this time with a bit more force.  
  
"Yes-s-s-s S-s-ir! I've plante-e-d the marigolds-s…" He stuttered in confusion and his father feared that he had a fever and shook him a little as he continued.  
  
"Enough of that talk Samwise Gamgee! Open your eye's an look a me!" He demanded.  
  
Sam's eyes popped open instantly and awareness flooded back to him, he began to sob and struggle in his father's arms. His father held him a little tighter and began to gentle stroke the side of his face.  
  
"Easy lad, easy, yer safe now" He paused as he caught sight to Bilbo's anxious and desperate gaze. "Sam? Samwise can you hear me?"  
  
Sam gave a small nod and tried to talk, but doubled over in a harsh coughing fit instead which lasted several long seconds before he was able to make a second attempt. He looked to his father and then locked eyes with Bilbo who in response leaned in closed as Sam desperately tried to form sound.  
  
"Easy lad, breathe and try again when you're a little calmer," Bilbo urged trying not to sound too impatient.  
  
Sam closed his eyes and took several breaths, not too deep for the pain in his chest was starting to grow and he feared another coughing attack. When he opened his eyes again he took his time to slowly form his words and used as few as possible, just enough to convey what he knew.  
  
"Merry…" He took another breath.  
  
"Is he in trouble?  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
"Do you know where he is Sam?" Bilbo pressed unable this time to conceal his haste.  
  
Sam twisted as much as he was able in his fathers embrace and set his eyes on the path further along the forest to their left and held his gaze there. It was exhausting and he fell back to face Bilbo breathing hard and fast through his mouth.  
  
"Hamson, Halfred, take the lanterns and your packs" Bilbo snapped "look for my nephew on the path further down". As they scrambled to their feet and hoisted their packs in place, Bilbo asked Sam quickly.  
  
"Is Merry hurt like you Sam, did you fall into the river?"  
  
Sam nodded again as a tear slowly slid from his eye and he leaned into his father's warm embrace.  
  
"When you find him do the same as we have done with Sam, and bring him as quickly as you can back to the cart." Bilbo ordered. "Stick to the path."  
  
"And whatever happens mind the river!" His father bellowed at their backs as they disappeared round the river bend.  
  
Bilbo returned his attention to the now shaking hobbit lad cowering in Hamfast's lap, he smiled gentle and patted his knee. "I'm sorry Sam just a few more questions and then we'll get you into a nice warm bed, I promise".  
  
Sam sniffled and tried to sit up a little straighter. "Twas all-l my f-f- fault" He croaked "I f-f-fell in a-n-d, a-n-d …"  
  
"It doesn't matter now lad, please tell me" He paused and drew in a deep breath bracing himself "Where is Frodo?"  
  
Sam began to cry again and looked to the Brandywine.  
  
"Did he fall in? Do you know where he is now? It's very important!"  
  
"He, he, he p-pulled me an M-m-erry out" He panted with the effort, it was becoming almost impossible for Sam to concentrate enough to speak and he felt his thoughts begin the muddle, but managed to push the last few words out before it became too much. "The-the ground —he f-fell! Dow-down the river, t-took him…" He collapsed against his father, closed his eyes and sank into sleep.  
  
Bilbo paled and had to sit down for a moment before gathering his wits, he looked from father to son and settled his eyes on Sam's shaking form and reached a decision.  
  
"Ham, take Sam and wait for me back at the cart, you'll find many blankets" He stood suddenly with renewed energy and determination, after securing his pack he took his lantern and Ham's rope.  
  
"You'll need help Master, I can…" But he was cut off in mid sentence.  
  
"No! I'll be fine and Sam needs you more, I'll be back as soon as I can" And with that he broke into a fast walk.  
  
As Hamfast watched he was struck by how fast his old Master could move when he had to, it was most unnatural he thought, there he was over a hundred and able to move about like a hobbit half his age. He shook his head and carried his son carefully back to the cart, but quickened his pace when he saw his two sons already there and fussing around in the back.  
  
"Da, we found Mr Merry! But he won't let us take his cloths"  
  
Hamson ran to his father and took Sam from him. He lowered his voice to a whisper as they approached the cart "He tried ta punch Halfred when he first came round, he'd only managed the first button!"  
  
The Gaffer grunted and stepped up into the back of the cart and relieved Hamson of Sam. Over in the far right-hand corner of the cart he saw the scrunched up form of the young Brandybuck, shaking like an Ivy leaf, Hamson had managed to throw one of the blankets over him.  
  
Two piercing grey eye's regarded him as he gently lowered Sam into another thicker blanket that Halfred had placed on the floor of the cart for him. He spoke to Merry as he carefully continued to wrap his son into a bundle.  
  
"Now what's this nonsense I hear young Master?"  
  
He was greeted with silence, broken only by the soft, involuntary chattering of Merry's teeth.  
  
Merry stared at Sam the whole time, he was dimly aware that the Gaffer was talking to him but he couldn't understand, as if he were talking in another tongue. Sam looked peaceful with the exception of a small frown that played across his youthful features every so often. After a time, he wasn't sure how long, he realised that the Gaffer had stopped fussing over his son, satisfied that he had done all that he could for him, and was now staring at him consideringly.  
  
The Gaffer had been watching the small bundle before him for several minutes, he'd realised that talking was a waste of time for Merry didn't seem able to hear him. Instead he stared at Sam. He motioned his boys out of the cart and asked them to see if they could find and lend a hand to Bilbo, instructing them to head along the path towards Bywater. Once they had gone he turned his attention back to Merry, one way or another Merry would do as he was told young Master or no, his health depended on it!  
  
Hamfast pulled out several more blankets from the pile and shook one open, Merry's blanket was soaked through in places from his breeches and was only adding to his obvious discomfort. Ham firmly grasped the edge of the blanket and pulled it away despite Merry's feeble efforts to retain it. The gaffer dropped the wet blanket to one side, using hand gestures as well as words he motioned for Merry to remove his own clothing. When Merry shook his head for the fourth time and scrunched into an even tighter ball Hamfast was through playing around, he was the father of three lads and knew exactly how to handle them!  
  
Merry let out a strangled yelp of surprise when he found himself pulled from the corner he was occupying, he glared at the Gaffer as the gardener began to wrestle with the rest of Merry's buttons. Before Merry was able to struggle the Gaffer had worked all the buttons loose, grabbing firmly the waistband of his breeches and his unders together, Hamfast gave the clothing one sharp yank and dropped them on top of the wet blanket.  
  
Merry panicked and tried to scuttle away on all fours, but one of Hamfast's rock solid arms caught him and lifted him in the air, briefly balancing the struggling Brandybuck on his left hip, while arranging one of the blankets on the floor of the cart. He then wrapped the still struggling child tightly in the second blanket, trapping his arms within its folds. Merry collapsed in exhaustion and Hamfast lifted him into his arms rocking him slowly as he would his own child, Merry gave a shudder and then relaxed into the comforting embrace, allowing himself to do something he thought he'd forgotten how to do. Cry.  
  
Hamfast had always had his suspicions about Merry's plight, but it was not his place to question how others chose to discipline their children, that and the fact that until just now that's all he'd had, suspicions. But after seeing the bruising covering the tweenager he was in no shadow of a doubt, some of the bruises on the child were obviously old and not from today's ordeal, for they were well on their way to fading. But they had obviously been brutal when first inflicted, even on the odd occasion when Sam had needed the strap, Ham had never lashed to even a degree of what this child had been.  
  
As he rocked the sobbing child he looked at his own son sleeping soundly, trying to imagine what he would feel if it had been Sam with these hurts in his arms, his blood quietly simmered. He would defiantly be informing Mr Bilbo about this when the opportunity presented itself.  
  
Tbc 


	9. Bright Eye's

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Whoa! Sorry about another delay, I swear my Boss has got it in for me. Talk about an exhausting workload. Anyhow no need to be concerned I WILL be finishing this story, which seems to have been the general concern. Also I would like to say that I have been working on a follow on series from "Brandywine" but cannot post it yet for it will give the game away with the current story, fear not I have not been idle. This new fic will centre on the hobbit lads, but Merry will be at its centre.  
  
A huge thanks to you all for your wonderful feedback, it is what keeps me writing! And also to Llinos (I didn't know you knew of my fic), I am completely speechless that you like it that much! I am a regular reader of your work and your standard...glad you like it!  
  
To Newttef and Plienje glad you are enjoying it so far! And Trilliah...Yeah I did warn ya! Frodo, glad you enjoyed last chapter. As always feedback is really appreciated so speak up (no flames)!  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 9: Bright Eye's  
  
  
  
As soon as Hamfast was out of sight Bilbo had broken out into a brisk run. His head swam as he found himself assailed by memories of Frodo. His birth and how his dear cousins Drogo and Primula had permitted him to hold the small bundle of dark curls that would grow into the young hobbit lad that he held so dear, he was only a few hours old then, but was old enough to capture Bilbo's heart.  
  
Bilbo had never had any children of his own. He had preferred discreet and fleeting encounters with the fairer sex every once in a while, usually on one of his infrequent trips to Bree. Aside from that he preferred to remain a bachelor and free to do as he pleased, he had always done things on impulse and loathed the thought of ever having to change and loose his independence. If he stopped and thought about it, he had been forced to change his ways since Frodo had come to live with him at Bag-End, but the young lad was so sweet and unobtrusive that he could barely remember what it had been like before his arrival.  
  
His throat constricted as he wondered what it would be like not to have Frodo around, the lad had such a kind nature and expressive face, every morning those bright blue eyes would sparkle as he received a cheery "Good Morning Uncle".  
  
A tear escaped him and was lost in one of the many laughter lines on his weathered face, he felt very old, so much older than he thought possible, how he wished Gandalf were here right now, he would have been able to find Frodo in an instant.  
  
Bilbo pushed all such thoughts from his mind and quickened his pace with renewed vigour.  
  
*Hold on my boy, I'm coming! *  
  
He turned the next corner skidding on the waterlogged path, but managed to regain his footing, never once breaking his concentration as he continued to scan the river, which now appeared black and thicker than it should in the darkness. His eyes once again flicked to the opposite bank for any sign of life, finding none and moving on.  
  
The soft orange glow of the lamp washed over something pale and unmoving a short distance ahead. Indeed Bilbo was so absorbed in scanning the surface of the water and the opposite bank that he almost tripped over one of the ivory pale legs that lay strewn across the path.  
  
"Frodo!"  
  
Recovering himself Bilbo quickly knelt down next to the prone, naked form of his nephew, carefully setting the lantern to rest beside him and stripping his pack all in one fluid motion. He lightly brushed the tumble of soft, wet curls from Frodo's face to reveal the delicate slack features. It was deeply unsettling. He gently pressed two fingers against his neck and waited. He found what he was searching for and allowed the comforting thump of Frodo's pulse to beat against his fingers a few seconds before wincing at how cold the child was. After a quick examination making certain there were no broken bones, Bilbo carefully turned him over and wrapped one of the blankets from his pack tightly around his frail form.  
  
He was so still. So silent! It reminded the old hobbit just how fragile life was and how easily it could be snuffed out.  
  
*What I would not give to see you open your eyes and smile at me right now my boy*  
  
Just then Halfred came rushing up the path towards them thankfully breaking his train of thought, he sighed in relief. If he was perfectly honest with himself he was uncertain weather he would be able to carry Frodo back to the cart, his strength was waning as the rush of adrenaline began to subside.  
  
"Hal, lad! Over here!"  
  
"Master Bilbo! Master! Da sent us ta come an help ya!"  
  
Halfred puffed as he squatted next to the two hobbits. His eyes locked on Frodo's unconscious form, he couldn't quite catch his gasp in time as he took in Frodo's appearance. He looked a ghost, far worse then his brother or Mr Merry, but Hal managed to subdue asking the question that he yearned to ask *is he dead? *  
  
Frodo's face was all that could be seen from within the blanket, a wet tangle of almost black curls lay thickly framing his face, his skin though illuminated by the lamp held no natural colour of it's own. His thick long lashes rested firmly against his high cheekbones. His jaw was slack, leaving his delicate lips slightly parted, if not for the dire circumstances Hal would have mistaken it for deep, peaceful sleep. But even in sleep no one is that still.  
  
Bilbo took the opportunity to sit down on the grass, ignoring the immediate discomfort as water quickly saturated the seat of his breeches. He shifted Frodo, with Hal's help into his lap, he was anxious to raise him from the warmth stealing earth.  
  
While they waited for Hamson to catch up Bilbo continued to gently rub Frodo's limbs through the blanket, first one hand and then the other, slowly moving to rub in larger circle at his back. His head came to rest in the crook of Bilbo's neck as the old hobbit gently rocked him, all the while chatting to him about everything and nothing.  
  
Hal squatted in silence, listening as his old Master spoke to Frodo as if they were back at Bag-End chatting over lunch, the fact that Frodo was limp and unresponsive didn't seem to bother him. Hal for a fleeting moment wondered if his Master had gone over the edge in his distress and wondered if he should say something.  
  
It was then that Bilbo's efforts were rewarded, he stopped in mid-sentence as he heard a soft moan escape Frodo's lips, he felt his head move against his chest and when he looked down to his joy he saw Frodo's heavy-lidded eye's open a crack and two thin lines of cobalt stare up at him.  
  
Frodo was exhausted with the effort of moving his head and it took him time to focus on who was holding him, then as the mists cleared Bilbo's face swam into view.  
  
"Uncle?" His voice was nothing but a whisper, but it was enough.  
  
Bilbo was grateful then of the darkness that surrounded them, for it helped to conceal his suspiciously moist cheeks as he cracked a grin from ear to ear.  
  
"Frodo my lad! I don't know, off adventuring without me?" He chortled.  
  
Frodo found it very draining to speak and his throat felt raw and dry, he swallowed audibly.  
  
"Sam....S-Sam, Merry..." He breathed but the effort drained the last of his strength and he could no longer hold his head up.  
  
Bilbo felt the tiny tremors of Frodo's struggle to maintain his position and carefully lowered him further down into his lap, allowing his head to rest at a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm.  
  
Halfred couldn't hide how his voice shook, nor the haunted expression in his deep hazel eyes such was the concern for his younger brother, but he steeled himself. He was already in his late tween's and had not been treated as a child for many years; it was time to live up to what being grown involved. Frodo's words sank in and he suddenly realised that he had yet to inform Bilbo that his nephew was safe.  
  
"We found Master Brandybuck Sir. He's back at the cart with da and Sam" He paused as Bilbo continued to fuss over his semi-conscious nephew, watching as his Master tried to rub warmth back into one of his slender hands that pocked out from beneath the fabric.  
  
Bilbo was overjoyed "Did you hear that my lad, nothing to worry your head about, their safe. Oh Hal, that is good news! How is he?"  
  
Halfred was not a well-spoken hobbit, out of all the Gamgee's his was the broadest dialect. He preferred to let Hamson do the talking, right on queue Hamson padded into view puffing and panting but having overheard the exchange.  
  
"He's doing fine Sir, he was a little unsure of where he was at first but da's takin care of him right now. How is Mr Frodo Sir?" He squatted next to his brother who shot him a silent thank you.  
  
"Wonderful! Oh that is one less weight on my mind" He exclaimed then went on to answer Hamson's question "We need to get him back to Bag-End."  
  
Frodo let out a contented sigh at the news, Sam and Merry were safe and his Uncle was here with him, Bilbo had found him, as he knew he would. He felt himself drift into sleep, safe in the knowledge that he was in his Uncles arms.  
  
Bilbo studied his nephew's unresponsive features once more. The lad had exhausted himself.  
  
"The sooner we get them into dry cloths and warm beds the better. Lads one of you will have to take him"  
  
Reluctantly Bilbo relinquished Frodo to Ham. Hamson was a strong, well built hobbit much like his father in appearance, he lifted the unconscious boy into his arms effortlessly and waited while Halfred and Bilbo quickly gathered up the lanterns and retrieved most of the contents of Bilbo's pack that had been unwittingly pulled out in his haste to retrieve the blanket.  
  
Each taking a lantern Bilbo lead with Hamson in the middle and Halfred bringing up the rear, careful to ensure that the path was well lit the hobbits quickly made their way back towards the waiting cart.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hamfast had just managed to rock Merry into an exhausted sleep when he spotted in the distance the flickering from the lanterns. He gentle lowered Merry next to Sam and set about padding the cart out with blankets.  
  
Hamson reached the cart after Bilbo and handed the smaller hobbit to his father while Bilbo bundled him in another blanket, until like Merry and Sam he too was cocooned and placed next to Merry. Hamson and Halfred were then instructed to sit one next to Frodo and the other next to Sam on the opposite side and to hold them as securely in place as possible, they still had a long journey ahead.  
  
Bilbo jumped up into the driving seat and Hamfast took his place next to him, Bilbo turned and leaned down into the back of the cart and placed the back of his hand against first Frodo's cheek and then Merry's. He could not reach Sam but Hamson caught on and placed his hand against his brother's face. Bilbo registered the shock in Hamson's features, as he turned wide-eyed to his Master, questioningly.  
  
"Hot?" It wasn't a question.  
  
"Yes sir, burnin"  
  
"Keep them covered"  
  
"Yes Sir" Hamson and Halfred said in unison.  
  
Bilbo turned back to Hamfast who bit down on his blade of grass with more force then was needed.  
  
"Aye, they've fever" he stated, it was not a surprise to him.  
  
"How long have Merry and Sam been like this?"  
  
"Bout ten minutes, no longer. There's nothin we can do for em here"  
  
Bilbo's command sounded shrill and louder then it should as he set Trixiebell at a fast trot, the wet grass prevented them from travelling faster.  
  
Bilbo ordered the pony into a full gallop as they returned to the road, Hamson and Halfred held tight to the three boys as they were jostled by the uneven surface, there was no way of avoiding it they had to hurry. Bilbo frantically mulled over various ways to save time. Bag-End would already be nice, warm and dry thanks to the Gamgee sisters, which just left the healer.  
  
"Halfred, when we pass Hobbiton run and fetch the healer, tell her it's an emergency"  
  
"Yes Sir"  
  
It was not voiced but was agreed non the less that Sam was to be cared for at Bag-End with Merry and Frodo. It was now very late into the night and both adults knew it would be hard to place the healer at this time of night, there had been an outbreak of stomach sickness that had been unwittingly brought back from Bree and all five healers were run off their feet and scattered to the Four Fathings with the small epidemic.  
  
After what seemed like forever to Halfred the carts motion slowed and he stirred, looking up he realised that they were just passing by the outskirts of Hobbiton; Bag-End was less than ten minutes drive away. Halfred rubbed the sleep from his eyes and jumped from the cart, shaking off the aches from the uncomfortable journey. As he tore into the soft glow and gentle murmurings of town he heard his father shout to him  
  
"No dawdling and mind yer manners!"  
  
"Yes Da!" He shouted over his shoulder as he cart broke into a trot.  
  
Halfred ran from smial to smial, each time being sent in a different direction tracing the pattern that the healer had made. As time wore on Halfred felt his stomach begin to churn and tears flowed freely. He banged at the door he'd been directed to, but to his dismay that was where the trail ran cold, for the healer had left over an hour ago and had not told the Bolger's were she was due next. Halfred ran off into the night in a blind panic before Mrs Bolger could offer any comfort or assistance to the obviously distressed young Gamgee.  
  
  
  
Tbc ~ 


	10. Curiosity

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Llinos I don't know how you do it! I'm working an eight-hour day and it's all manual labour, I have no idea how you manage to update so regularly. Thanks for the subtle hint at the end of your chapter by the way *blush*.  
  
By the way, IloveSam...I'm glad you're enjoying my story, but I never said it was Merry's father responsible for the lad's plight. You'll all just have to wait and see!  
  
STORY WATCH: Xenobia has updated "Cloudbursts" not once, not twice, not three times...BUT FOUR! Yeah!  
  
Llinos has updated "Recaptured" twice, chapters 61 & 62 are now up and if you haven't read them yet...why not?  
  
Willow wode at Nindaiwe has written a fab piece called "October Reckoning", a must read for all those Frodo & Sam fans.  
  
JastaElf has written two brilliant fic's about Legolas (the younger years) and I think you will be truly, pleasantly shocked by their standard "Dark Leaf", go read it now!  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 10: Curiosity  
  
  
  
Daisy and May Gamgee stepped across the threshold of Bag-End for the very first time, their youngest brother was constantly in and out of the Smial due to his friendship with young Master Baggins, and his addiction to Master Bilbo's yarns, but they themselves had never been inside, until now.  
  
They stood awestruck just inside the hallway, though Bag-End looked large from the outside nothing could have prepared the two girls for the huge warren that spread before them. The rich dark mahogany beams were all intricately carved and the floor was laid with thick, dark green slate, this combined with the white walls and wide-open corridors was breathtaking. And whilst it seemed a typical bachelor-pad to Daisy, full of clutter, papers piled high, books on every conceivable shelf, table or sill, it was still neat and presentable, though the furniture was sparse and it definitely lacked a woman's touch, it held a very comfortable atmosphere. It made Bagshot Row seem very small and overcrowded.  
  
May broke the silence first. "Well this is an eye-opener, I wonder if the old yarns are true about this place, bein filled with dragon gold an all?"  
  
May was a sweet natured girl at heart, but at the age of nineteen she tended to listen too much to local gossip, a habit that her father was slowly breaking her of, as he had deemed it unfit behaviour for one of his kin to gossip! However she still met with her circle of friends on a regular basis.  
  
Daisy removed her shawl and took May's, casting her a disapproving stern look while she placed them on the hall pegs. She and May quickly discovered the Smial's layout and set about their work.  
  
May brought in wood from the shed while Daisy cleared out the ash from the fireplace in the Dinning-room, the wood and pinecones were damp, but produced a sweet smell as the wood caught and the fire grew. Meanwhile May went from room to room and lit the various candles and lanterns. Once Bag-End was well lit, and the main fire was at a steady roar Daisy proceeded to the kitchen while May went towards Frodo's room, she stopped halfway and called over her shoulder.  
  
"Daisy! I know Mr Bilbo didn' ask it, but with him bein in a hurry I figure maybe he forgot..."  
  
"What is it May? I'm a little busy at the moment"  
  
"...Well should I light the fire in Bilbo's room too?"  
  
"Mister!"  
  
"Ay?"  
  
"Mr Bilbo! Mind yer manners." Came Daisy's sharp reply, then it softened as she poked her head round the archway "That sounds like a good idea, now don't you go touchin anything or da'l have your hide!"  
  
May smiled sweetly and promised...not to touch anything in Mr Bilbo's room!  
  
Daisy poked the fire in the stove, it eat at the new wood she'd just place in it hungrily, it was already throwing out a tremendous amount of heat. She felt parched, and wondered if her father would disapprove of her taking up Mr Bilbo's kind offer to help themselves. She eyed the jar of tealeaves on the counter consideringly for several long moments before reaching her decision.  
  
"I'll get the kettle boilin and make us some tea shall I May?" She shouted in May's general direction.  
  
"Thanks, I've finished the fire in Mr Bilbo's room, I'll be through soon."  
  
May leaned against thick, heavy door to Frodo's room, it creaked open and she slipped through. The room was smaller than Bilbo's, a lot smaller then May had expected for it was only the size of one of the guest bedrooms.  
  
There was a soft double bed to the right, as she placed her hand on it's edge and pushed down several times she discovered it was as soft as it looked and was feather filled, it had a plain solid frame, the room was immaculately kept. At the head of the bed on both sides stood two identical dark wooden bookshelves, some of the books had many paper markers sticking out in all directions and were well warn. A small box of white candles sat on the top shelf, half full.  
  
A single wardrobe stood behind the door and upon opening it May discovered that Frodo had very few cloths and he seemed to favour blue, brown, and green, there was only one rack of neatly hung garments. As she felt the various fabrics she realised that they were of excellent quality and well tailored, sporting gold buttons and material ranging from faded blue cotton shirts, to silk, to velvet weskits. Strange how someone who had such finery chose to run around in ordinary, boring, plain clothes most of the time. Strange lad.  
  
His desk was covered with half-open books, papers, several inkwells and many other oddments. May felt a twinge and envy as her small delicate fingers traced the elegant flow of Frodo's hand, she was illiterate, it had never bothered her before now. Suddenly she understood why her brother was so determined to learn how to create these beautiful marks. Her hand knocked a small pile of papers to the floor and she hurried to pick them up, when she turned the rough paper over it was covered with nothing but the same symbol, over and over again. Sam. Her little brother's old practise papers...but Sam had progressed past this stage several years ago. A small frown creased her forehead, why would Frodo keep such terrible work?  
  
Had May been able to read she would have discovered that the small, leather- bound, black book, that lay open on the centre of the table was Frodo's diary. In recent weeks before Merry and Sam came to stay, Frodo had found himself caught up in a melancholy mood that he could not break, and had started to read one of his old diaries. Sam's early writing attempts he had lovingly rescued from the bin, it had seemed like such a pity to him that something that was so monumental to his young friend should be discarded in such a manner.  
  
May continued her tour moving over to the window seat, (opposite the door) and looked out. She discovered that Frodo had the best view of the back garden that could be gained and still be indoors. Beautiful flowers of all description and colour grew just in front of his window, yet there were none at any of the other windows at the back of the smial she discovered with a quick peek into the darkness, pressing her face to the glass for the best view. Strange.  
  
As she knelt on the soft cushioned seat she felt something solid, upon moving the various cushion-come-pillows aside she found a small wooden box pushed into the corner. It looked old and had no markings on it, yet was obviously very important, well important enough to hide at any rate. She hesitated feeling extremely guilty, like a thief, looking round a room was one thing, but this was obviously something that the Young Master wanted for himself only. But her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the lid.  
  
She sat down and placed it's content on her lap, there was a bundle of letters, very old by the look of their yellowing corners, a beautiful pearl string necklace, an old broken clay pipe, and a palm size gold and silver pendant. She ran the pearl necklace through her fingers amazed at how smooth they felt, and then moved onto the pendent. Finding and pressing the tiny latch mechanism at its edge, it popped open to reveal two images set into the intricately worked frame; one image was a painting whilst the other appeared to be a quick, skilfully coloured sketch. On the one side she saw a man and woman from the neck up smiling sweetly at each other, the woman was startlingly beautiful. The quality of the painting was such that she knew instantly who this couple were, they had to be Drogo and Primula Baggins.  
  
May could understand now where Frodo got his unique looks from; he favoured his mother in the face. Her eye's larger then was average and their green depths sparkled with life, her skin was pale and smooth and was set with a small nose and delicate lips. Just like Frodo. Drogo had smaller dark brown eye's, almost black from the looks of the picture. His hair was raven black, unusual for a hobbit as the norm was brown, his jaw line was very defined and altogether masculine, she could see from the thickness of his neck that he had probably been quite muscular, she remembered her father was the same, only hard work of some kind could do that. Despite his strong features he wore a soft loving smile.  
  
May gasped and covered her mouth as she moved onto the opposite image, it showed Drogo and Primula hugging and leaning into each other...and nestled in between the pair sat a small, smiling, blue-eyed child.  
  
Frodo was shirtless as was his father and sat on his father's knee. Upon further inspection May realised that the backdrop was the Brandywine in Buckland on what looked to be a hot day, they had obviously been swimming. Hot tears burned down her cheeks as she stared unblinking at the tiny, happy, hobbit-child so content in the sketch, so alive. She realised then just why Frodo kept his past so close, and would never react when the other lads and lasses his age would try to tease him into telling them about his mother and father. She had always thought him odd, not just because he was a Bucklander but because he always seemed so old, too old for his age, even when he did let go and have fun it was usually only with a select few friends and his cousins, and even then he seemed to pull back.  
  
Her hand was trembling now for she knew that she had stepped over the line. This was unforgivable. All those times that her friends had spoken about Frodo being a 'Baggins' in name only, his almost feminine features and quiet demeanour, and all the various conflicting rumours surrounding his parents deaths, not to mention the fact that she had taken part in these discussions and enjoyed the attention it brought her.  
  
*I should put this back and never... * Her train of thoughts were shattered just then and what took place next seemed to be in slow motion.  
  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Screamed Daisy. She had poked her head round the door to see what was the cause of her sisters delay, and had been horrified to discover her going through a small box of Mr Frodo's possessions.  
  
May was so shocked that she fumbled with the precious pendant, it slipped from her grasp. She watched in horror as it hit the floor and the glass shattered in dramatic fashion, throwing glass all over the floor. Both Daisy and May stared at the pendant in horrified silence for a moment before Daisy's accusing eye's locked with May's frightened ones.  
  
Daisy watched as her sisters tearstained face drained of all it's colour, her eye's had become impossible round and owlish and her small hands were clamped over her mouth. Small sounds escaped her as her eye's darted back to the pendant again. Daisy's outraged anger fizzled out to be replaced with acute concern for her sisters well being, it had been an accident, she had never seen her sister so distressed...even when she'd broken her arm years back.  
  
Carefully Daisy made her way to her sisters side and pulled her into a hug, May went rigid before relaxing into the comforting embrace and began to sob.  
  
"I d-didn't mean it...it was an a-a-accident, honest" She sobbed.  
  
"I know it was, I know"  
  
Daisy continued to comfort May until she had stopped crying. Then she carefully picked her way across the floor careful of the glass and retrieved the pendent. She turned it over to reveal the images, the glass was almost completely gone but thankfully the pictures were undamaged, it would be easy enough to replace the glass...but very expensive. Daisy looked at the pictures then and her breath hitched, she looked to May's guilt ridden face and handed the pendant back to her.  
  
Silently the sisters fell into a rhythm and cleaned the mess away without trace, only when all was done and dusted did Daisy looked at May again.  
  
"Where did you get these?" She questioned as she examined the bits and pieces sat on the cushions.  
  
"I found them" May replied in a small voice.  
  
"Where?"  
  
May pointed to the box. "Under the cushions"  
  
"Do you have any money saved?"  
  
"Yes, a little" May then caught on to what her sister was saying, "Do ya...do ya think I could replace it before anyone finds out?" She asked hopefully.  
  
"Well I can't says I'm happy about this, but if you can afford to replace what ya broke then no one'l hear nought from me...good enough?"  
  
May breathed a shuddering sigh of relief, Daisy was very much like her father in attitude...she knew how much that gesture that cost her.  
  
"Thank you"  
  
"Don't you be thankin me, jus make sure it's done or we'll both be in for it!" She gave May a small smile then before walking back towards the kitchen.  
  
"We'll not speak of this again" Was her last words on the subject.  
  
Without further delay May slipped the precious item into her skirt pocket and replaced everything where she found it before lighting the fire. She wiped the sweat from her forehead as she entered the kitchen and sat opposite Daisy, sipping the tea that was now lukewarm.  
  
"Do you think their alright?" Daisy asked at last desperate to lighten the atmosphere, "They've been gone an awful long time...like Da says it's not like Sam ta miss a meal"  
  
"True but Mr Frodo and Mr Merry are...well." She did not want to insult Frodo after what she had just done, "...well their a bit different. Maybe they got carried away an forgot the time"  
  
Daisy smiled into her cup, she knew what May had meant and agreed with her, a Brandybuck and a Baggins, a potent combination for trouble. Lads would be lads.  
  
"Yeah but it's dark out now"  
  
"Well maybe they got caught in the rain earlier and decided to wait it out...it's quite a walk back"  
  
Daisy felt a little easier in herself, yes that sounded grand. That was probably what had happened.  
  
"That sounds rig...."  
  
But Daisy never got the chance to finish her sentence as the front door flew open and Bilbo, her father, closely followed by her brother Hamson hurried in, her father, brother and Mr Bilbo each carried a bundled up hobbit apiece.  
  
  
  
Tbc~ 


	11. Watch & Wait

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Big thank you to all those who have been reviewing my work, it's great to know that some people actually like it!  
  
STORY WATCH: JastaElf has updated "Dark Leaf", nail-biting stuff! Frisky has also update "Hopeless Life" and Llinos has updated "Recaptured, cool! It's getting too exciting! Melodysongsinger has updated "Only The Very Best" again, this is a story that has taken on a life of it's own. And Trilliah has written a new series called "The Beginning" and is a shire based story, so if you love Frodo/ Sam fic's it's gonna be one for you! Rachelstonebreaker has written several great stories surrounding the hobbit's, pre-ring stuff; and I was never good at subtle so here goes...PLEASE CAN WE HAVE MORE? And finally Lilybaggin's has written a new fic called "A HOBBIT, CAUGHT OFF HIS GUARD" part three is up now, getting hot, hot, hot!  
  
  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 11: Watch & Wait  
  
  
  
Bilbo directed Hamfast to the guest room where Sam would stay, but upon opening the door he realised his grave error for the room was dark and cold. He instead directed all three of them into Frodo's room, which sported a roaring fire and a double bed.  
  
Bilbo managed a juggling act with his unconscious nephew, shifting his body so that he hung over one shoulder, while with his free hand he drew back the covers. He carefully lowered his ice-cold nephew into its centre, Hamfast and Hamson deposited Sam and Merry either side and pulled the bedding under their chins.  
  
Bilbo wiped sweat from his brow with his handkerchief and saw for the first time the two Gamgee sisters stood mute and pale in the doorway.  
  
Bilbo caught Hamfast's eye and motioned to his pale, mute daughters. Hamfast decided that they had been through enough for one night, and sent them home escorted by Hamson; who was under strict instructions to return after explaining to Bell what had taken place.  
  
Hamfast felt Sam's face and to his dismay discovered that it was cold once more, the cart ride back had taken a heavy toll on the three lads, the thick woollen blankets had helped, but the last leg of the journey had become a race he recalled. Soon after Halfred had dashed into town, Hamson had heard whispered mutterings of half formed words issuing from Frodo's mouth. When he reached over to check on him he gave a startle cry as he discovered that his face was like ice once more. Upon further inspection he discovered that Sam and Merry where in a similar state.  
  
Hamfast went to the kitchen where he found boiled water and carefully filled several of the water bottles, then made two cups of tea with what was left. After placing the hot-water-bottles at the tweenager's feet, while Bilbo fussed with tucking the now many layers of bedding closely round the three, he handed Bilbo a cup and his pipe.  
  
"Oh thank you Ham, that's just what I need"  
  
"Your welcome Sir"  
  
"I've not seen this before," Bilbo confessed. He made a gesture towards the bed as he pulled a chair next to his own for Hamfast and lit his pipe. "They were burning up before, why do they now feel as cold as stone, I am worried Ham, it's been too long since I heard anything from them. How could I have allowed this to happen?"  
  
Ham was just as worried, however unlike his Master he had seen these symptoms before, a long time ago. "As I said befor' I'll say again, twern't nothing you could a done. The Shire don't flood 'cept once in a blue moon and you weren't ta know," he paused "We've got strong lads, my Sam's never been sick a day in his life and Mr Merry's got fire for blood as they say."  
  
Bilbo noted how he avoided any bold statements concerning Frodo, out of the three Frodo had been exposed to the cruel elements the longest, his slight build made matters even worse. At least a little colour was creeping back into young Samwise and Merry...Frodo's skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and had taken on a light bluish ting, a warning of deep shock in it's late stage. He lay motionless, nestled between Sam and Merry.  
  
Hamfast continued as he watched Bilbo stare at his beloved nephews, he cleared his dry throat. "Mr Frodo's got good blood in him..." He was rewarded with a small smile from Bilbo, a little of the old sparkle returned to his eyes as Hamfast continued, "...Baggins and Brandybuck make for a strong mix, there's no denyin that!"  
  
Bilbo couldn't help but chuckle; it was rare that Hamfast ever spoke about Frodo let alone his blood heritage. He clapped Ham on the back several times as tears ran down his cheeks. "Yes, yes my old friend I think your right," He chuckled "you never knew him in Brandy Hall but he was a little terror!"  
  
Hamfast waited patiently for Bilbo to continue, they had to wait for the healer anyway, he would rather Bilbo be distracted then allow him to continue reprimanding himself for the whole disaster.  
  
"You know his mischief even rivalled Merry and Pippins!"  
  
Ham's wild eyebrows shot to his hairline. Pippin and Merry together were notorious in Hobbiton as well as Buckland and Tuckborough! How in all the shire, could kind and gentle Frodo Baggins have been worse then that pair?  
  
"Oh yes he was!" Bilbo sobered a bit before he went on "you see, when Primula and Drogo passed on...he went a little wild. Brandy Hall is such a huge place, you've never seen it but...at any one time there are roughly two hundred kin living there"  
  
"Never! That's a village more like"  
  
"True. As the months went by my lad seemed to perfect the art of blending into the background, despite Esmeralda's best attempts to make sure he was alright he always managed to give her the slip. He would burry himself in a book and forget the time, most un-hobbit-like to miss a meal!"  
  
Hamfast lit his pipe and quirked a smile, but kept silent, Bilbo however had seen the gesture.  
  
"I guess I'm hardly one to speak about hobbit behaviour now, am I? Still that is a trait that worries me to this day, he just seems to forget to eat. That started after his parents died as well." He paused "Ah well, what was I saying before?" His smile returned as he relayed to Hamfast many tales that Frodo would blush to hear retold. Including the time he and Merry decided to have a snail race in the kitchen and the cook caught them, and a certain incident involving itching-powder in the laundry-room!  
  
Hamfast in turn told a tale or two of some of the things he'd caught his children getting up to when they were younger, finishing up with a cracker concerning Samwise and his rather disastrous, short-lived hobby of collecting caterpillars. Ham recalled how he had gone into his room, (for Sam had not appeared at breakfast with the others) and was about to pull him out of bed for being so lazy, when he realised that he was covered in small angry red spots all over his face, neck and arms.  
  
"Turned out the poor mite was allergic to the furry little critters!" He roared "Course I weren't too please when I realised were he'd been hidin em."  
  
Bilbo's eye's sparkled with laughter as he waited.  
  
"He'd only been hidin em in amongst we cabbage sprouts in the shed, hadn' he! They'd near on eaten the pots an all!" He snorted.  
  
"Oh dear! Poor Sam, I guess now I know why he's so thorough when it comes to pest control here"  
  
"Aye, twere a good lesson to learn"  
  
Just then they heard a soft moan from the bed. Bilbo was out of his chair and beside the bed before Hamfast could blink.  
  
Merry's grey eye's slowly opened and he moaned louder this time as he raised a hand to his head and looked around in confusion.  
  
"Hello Merry my lad! How many fingers am I holding up?" His Uncle half joked for it was obvious the child had a terrible headache.  
  
Merry's eye's focused. "Three" He whispered, closing his eyes briefly before slowly turning to face Bilbo. He stopped in mid-motion as he felt cold flesh at his left side, Merry flushed as he turned back to see Frodo's unruly mop of curls at eye-level. He couldn't see his cousin's chest rise and fall and gave an involuntary whimper, he looked so pale, indeed if not for the startling contrast of his hair he could almost blend with the pillow.  
  
He felt a hand slowly stroking the curls from his face and realised that his uncle was now perched on his side of the bed. Merry turned frightened, tear-filled eyes on his uncle.  
  
"He's alive Merry, there's nothing to worry about, and you're all going to be fine. Halfred has gone to fetch the healer and will be back soon," He said as he continued to sooth his nephew, who visibly relaxed at this news. "Is there anything we can get you?"  
  
Merry had to lick his lips several times before he was able to reply, his body felt strange, he had never known cold like this. It had penetrated his young body deeply and seemed to cling to his very bones, no matter how warm the bed was or how many blankets covered him.  
  
His head pounded and he had to concentrate for a few moments, briefly closing his eyes. When the pain had calmed to a dull thud he opened them again to a very worried looking Bilbo, who was unsure weather his nephew had passed out or not.  
  
"May I...May I have some...something to drink, please?" He panted.  
  
He watched mutely as Bilbo turned from him and spoke to someone else, he couldn't see who else was in the room but surmised it was probably Hamfast, which meant that Sam must also be with them, probably on the other side of Frodo. He couldn't concentrate on what was being said, but heard the door creak open and footsteps disappear.  
  
Bilbo captured one of Merry's slender hands and rubbed at it absentmindedly, annoyed that it didn't seem capable of retaining the hard won warmth he worked into it. "Merry..." He looked the lad square in the eye as he spoke.  
  
Merry saw a silent war raging behind his Uncles eyes and wondered what the struggle was about, however he seemed to reach a resolve and continued.  
  
"...Do you think you feel strong enough to tell me what you remember. It might help the healer if we are able to tell her exactly what happened. Sam managed to tell us a little about falling into the river, but that was about all."  
  
Hamfast returned at that moment and handed a glass containing sweet, warm juice to Bilbo. Bilbo gentle cupped Merry's head and tilted it enough to press the glass to his lips and let him sip at his own pace. Even this simple action made Merry feel exhausted, his headache had returned with a vengeance at the small motion and he had to concentrate hard not to allow the juice to leak from the corners of his mouth.  
  
He panted heavily when he had finished all he could, it was a long time before he was able to retell the events of that day and it's disastrous outcome.  
  
Bilbo and Hamfast listened intently, Hamfast discovering that it had been his own son who had fallen first and how Merry and then later Frodo had saved his child's life. He felt shame silently burn inside him, for if truth be told he was sure he would discover that it had been Merry or Frodo that had inadvertently set the wheels in motion.  
  
"Mr Merry?" He watched as the Brandybuck's eyes popped opened and settled on him. It was not an entirely friendly look; obviously he was still sour about the clothing business. "I just wanted to thank you...for savin me boy's life. Samwise can't swim an if you hadn' a done what ya did, when ya did..." His voiced trailed off, unable or unwilling to finish his sentence, Merry could not decide. "I owe you a dept Sir"  
  
"Merry managed to blush despite everything, his gaze softened. "You don't owe me any-anything, Mr Gamgee. Sam's my...my friend" He panted "that's all there is t-t-too it". He felt his grip on reality start to slip "B-but if Frodo hadn't been strong.... enough, we'd both be...gone" His lids closed of their own accord and Merry knew no more.  
  
Hamfast stared in amazement at Merry, there was definitely more to the lad then he let on. His gaze travelled then to Frodo. Frodo Baggins, a complete enigma too most hobbits in all four Fathings, yet despite his known family history with The Brandywine, he had saved Sam and Merry. He had always been fond of the lad, not just because he was his Masters chosen heir, but also because there couldn't be found a kinder hobbit in all the lands.  
  
"I owe your family a huge debt o' thanks Master" He smiled then "both side o' it!"  
  
Bilbo finished settling Merry back under the covers and grinned before quoting "A Baggins and Brandybuck make for a strong mix. Never a truer word spoken my friend!"  
  
Hamfast was about to reply when they heard a knock at the door and upon opening it the healer, Laura Goodbody entered, closely followed by a rather haunted looking Halfred.  
  
"I found her da, I found her!" Halfred shouted excitedly.  
  
"I can see that lad, now quiet'n down"  
  
Halfred's face fell. Hamfast took Miss Goodbody's shawl and hung it on the hall peg before guiding her to Mr Frodo's room. On the way he kneaded Hal's shoulder before patting him on the back, it was an appraisal that Halfred proudly accepted as they entered the room.  
  
  
  
Tbc~ 


	12. It Begins

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Sorry about the delay, I'm in the process of leaving my job and packing to move to Ireland so things are a bit mad at the moment. Hope the length of this chapter will help to make up for the wait though!  
  
STORY WATCH: XENOBIA HAS UPDATE CLOUDBURST...enough said! Rachelstonebreaker has posted a prologue for her story series "Pub Politics". This outline clarifies the story to date and shows us what a perfect, 100% grasp she has of the characters and their interaction and several chapters...not to mention the truly enslaving new series "Recovery" which is already at chapt 3!. Llinos updated "Recapture" again while I blinked...you call that writers block? Smashing stuff! Wooho! Frisky's updated "Hopeless Life" chapt 14 is up and it's a cracker...great style of writing I must say! Ice Princess has written a cool series "A Ghost In The Night" *sniff* poor Frodo. At www.nindaiwe.com Orangeblossom has written "For the Love of the Language" nice little, stand on it's own piece. Victoria Bitter has written a beaut, called "Clean", it's one of my all time fav fic's I can only recommend that you read all her LOTR's fic's for they are all wonderful, if you haven't already! "Soil" by Astra was written as a challenge, and glad I am that it was! X rated for it's nature, I cannot praise it enough! And finally Mira Westing has started a new captivating story called "Solace", for all those Merry fans, it looks to be a winner!  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 12: It Begins  
  
  
  
Laura Goodbody was exhausted, it had been a long week and the last few days had been particularly trying. Halfred had found her just as she had left the Burrows smial; Rosemary's male child had succumbed to the stomach sickness less than half an hour ago, he had been too young to fight it. She had left her condolences with the grieving family and left her husband, Bill, with some herbs and instructions to make a tea of them. They would help Rosemary to sleep; it was all she could do to help her now. Bill had gratefully accepted them and offered to pay for her services...her Mistress would be furious if she found out, but she refused the coins and with a quick teary hug she left.  
  
*Elbereth! I need an ale! *  
  
Tears streamed down her face as her feet took her in the direction of the nearest pub; she could definitely do with a half-pint or two. Poppy her teacher had told her many times that she was too sensitive to others pain, that she could not afford to get so attached to her patients. Laura had thought her cruel that day, but years later as they both tended to a dying patient (and old friend of Poppy's), she had seen the pain in her teachers eye's as the light had left her friends body. She hadn't wept as Laura had found herself doing, not a tear in sight and yet Lara knew that inside she was crying with the rest of them.  
  
Laura wiped at her face with her handkerchief and silently wondered how many years it would be before she too would be able to hide her emotions as well as Poppy could.  
  
Just then, as the cool night air helped to dry her cheeks, a gasping, panic- stricken Gamgee lad almost bowled into her. He clung to her as she gently placed her spare handkerchief over his mouth and instructed him to breath through the folded layers of cloth. When his breathing calmed, she removed the cloth and pushed back his damp curl, it revealed Halfred Gamgee, Hamfast's second eldest. He quickly explained what had taken place as the two of them started out at a brisk pace towards Bag-End, Halfred automatically taking her soft brown leather bag as he continued his story.  
  
Bilbo looked up as he heard a knock on the door closely followed by Laura's head poking round its edge.  
  
"Miss Goodbody! Come in! Come in!" He motioned her towards the bed.  
  
"Good evenin to ya Master Baggins, now then, what's this I heard about these three lads, tis a bad time ta take a dip?" She teased and gave a wink; she found that this approach often took the tension out of things. It worked as she observed Bilbo's shoulders relax a little.  
  
Bilbo backed away from the bed as Laura busied herself with taking their temperatures, checking their eye's and listening to their breathing. Bilbo, Halfred and Hamfast buzzed around her so closely however that in the end she had to ask them to leave the room, just until the examinations were over.  
  
Once she was alone the examination went much faster, she found Merry to be the best out of the three. For although she could hear congestion in his breathing, Bilbo had told her that he had been conscious and coherent and been able to drink something.  
  
She pulled back the covers to the foot of the bed and firmly began to apply small, quick pressures, tracing his bones from head to toes. She felt a warm hard knot under the flesh over one rib and frowned, tracing its shape repeatedly before continuing her probing search. When she was satisfied there were no new broken bones, she gently rolled him onto his side so that he faced Frodo and repeated the process, noting the bruising that lightly coloured his upper chest and back. She frowned, he had taken a beating not too long ago, and a pretty thorough one at that. She settled him back down and moved on to her next patient.  
  
Frodo Baggins concerned her. He was as white as fresh snow and just as cold; she flinched as she searched his body for breaks, his collarbone protruded too much and a faint ripple of ribs could be seen. His hips were very prominent and his stomach flat and clearly muscled, unusual for a hobbit. As she felt down one slender leg he flinched slightly, his knee had a rather large graze across it and needed to be cleaned, for she could quite clearly see small stones in amongst the gore. After she was satisfied he was in one piece, she listened to his breathing once more, first one side of his chest, then the other. What she heard she didn't much like, water.  
  
He whimpered in his sleep and tried to reach out, she took his hand in hers as she replaced the covers and soothed him "There, there now. Try to get some sleep young Master".  
  
"Bilbo?"  
  
"He's here lad, try to get some rest it's very late" But before she could even finish her sentence she discovered that he had done just that.  
  
"Poor mite" She murmured to herself before moving onto Samwise.  
  
Sam's sturdy little body was already beginning to return to a more normal pallor thanks to their combined body heat and the raging fire, which Hamfast had stacked high before he was shooed out.  
  
Laura noted that aside from scrapes and scratches all down one leg and bruising to his right wrist, he was fine. After tending to all the cuts she ran her fingers over the strange bruise patterns on the wrist, after several long moments she realised that this must have happened when Mr Merry caught him. It looked painful and swollen and whilst not broken, would be pretty useless for at least a week. She lightly rubbed a salve into the aggravated joint and bandaged it tightly.  
  
She heard a soft sound from behind the door and suppressed a giggle before in a clear voice said "You can come back in now Master Baggins, Master Gamgee, I've finished".  
  
A rather red-faced Hamfast and apologetic Bilbo entered followed by a silent Halfred.  
  
"I'm sorry Miss Goodbody, but where our children are concerned..."  
  
"I know Sir, it does my heart good to see it"  
  
"How are they?" Asked Bilbo, as Hamfast gently stroked through Sam's curly, his callused, work-hardened fingers hovering in mid-motion over the heavily bandaged wrist, afraid to touch it.  
  
She looked from parent to parent and was about to speak when there came a frantic knocking at the front door. Bilbo was the closest to the door and motioned Ham to return to Sam's side...the lad seemed to visible strengthen under his fathers touch.  
  
Laura waited patiently; she did not wish to repeat herself. She heard a soft feminine voice float through and seconds later Bell Gamgee flew through the door and to her son's side.  
  
"Bell! What are ye doin here? I told Hamson to..."  
  
"I know what you told him. And I'll have none o' it! The lads have work in the morn and we've all had a fright, I told him and Daisy ta keep home an get some rest" She replaced Hamfast at Sam's side as he moved aside and stroked his cheek lightly.  
  
"Your place is at home, I'll see ta Samwise, you jus take care o' the others" Hamfast understood Bells natural instinct to be with their sick lad, but was also embarrassed by her boldness in front of his Master. What would he think?  
  
"My place is with my boy when he's sick an needs me most"  
  
"Quite right Mrs Gamgee, you are more than welcome to stay at Bag End as long as Samwise takes to recover, if you wish?"  
  
Bilbo had been listening to the quiet whisperings and understood Ham's dilemma *your stubborn sense of place old friend, really! * He had never been one to stand on ceremony; so long as Miss Goodbody was to stay at the smial he saw no impropriety in the offer.  
  
Bell's eye's sparkled as a smile settled on her lips, she looked from Bilbo to her husband, ultimately she would respect her husbands wishes, but the offer had been more then she could have hoped for.  
  
Hamfast frowned and looked at his sons pale face and injured hand then back to his wife's pleading eyes and sighed giving her a comforting embrace as he spoke.  
  
"Thank ye Mr Bilbo, we'd like that very much"  
  
A silence fell in the room and as all anxious eyes's turned to Laura, she took that as her queue.  
  
She spoke directly to Bilbo first "Mr Merry is not doin too badly at all Sir. He's a might colder then I hoped but nowhere near as bad as I first thought" she paused then uncertain if she had leave to openly question Bilbo.  
  
"And?" He asked impatiently. When she did not continue and looked to the Gamgee's he understood "There is nothing that I do not trust Master Gamgee's family to hear, please..."  
  
She gave a small nod and continued, "I need ta know if you can tell me how long ago Mr Merry's rib healed. Ya see it could cause a problem or two later if I don' know all now"  
  
The confusion on his face told her all she needed to know, and helped to set a small nagging part of her mind at ease. Not him.  
  
Bilbo's eyes raged with anger, a complete contrast to his face, which had become carefully blank after the initial shock, wore off. "My nephew has a broken rib?"  
  
His voice was steady and calm and had Ham not known his Master as well as he did, you would never have known there had been a change. But even his very stance had grown more aggressive as Laura explained her findings in great detail to him, and, careful of the three lads modesty, peeled back the covers enough to expose the faded bruises.  
  
She placed his hand over the area and allowed him to feel for himself, informing him that it seems to have been a clean break, and was more likely to have been a crack then a complete break. It was a maximum of four weeks old, for the skin over the small lump still remained hot to the touch, a good sign it was knitting together properly.  
  
As the covers were replaced Bilbo rested his hand on Merry's head and began to stroke his eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, a contented sign broke from Merry making the old hobbit chuckle, he had always enjoyed that as a child and still did apparently.  
  
"I don't know how it happened or why...but I shall not be satisfied until I have those answers" He spoke more to himself than to anyone in particular "How did you manage to hide this from me my lad?" He asked the sleeping Brandybuck.  
  
"You'd be surprised how quick they bounce back when their tha age Sir, lad migh'n a known it were worse than a bad bruise"  
  
Bilbo pulled himself together. Merry was fine, Miss Goodbody had confirmed that much and aside from the start of a cold he would heal. "And my lad Frodo, what of him?"  
  
Laura paused, trying to make certain she worded everything correctly, the last thing she wanted to do was to alarm Mr Bilbo more, he'd already had enough to deal with for one night, too much. But she wouldn't lie to him either.  
  
"Mr Frodo...concerns me Sir" She hated the fear that leaked into his hazel eyes "There's no breaks or nothin like tha, cept a small wound ta the knee, but I took care a that. Were goin ta have ta keep a close watch on him tonight; I can hear water on his lungs. He's too weak ta take the poundin it'll take ta get most of it out right now, but this will lead ta fever and it'll happen soon". She drew a deep breath; she hated giving bad news.  
  
"But he'll get through this...right?"  
  
"I won't lie to ya Sir, there's a small chance he won't...but he's stronger than he looks... an he has you. I'm sure he'll pull through"  
  
All eyes were on the grief-stricken hobbit. Bells pleading eye's drew Laura's attention back to her son and her face softened, it was a small gesture but enough to convey her message. Bell took a shuddering breath and a tear escaped her as she smiled down at Samwise, while Ham ruffled his curls. Halfred did not understand the exchange but when he saw his parent's reaction he felt a weight had been lifted.  
  
"I'll do everythin within my skill ta save him Mr Bilbo, there's already been one death tonight...I'll be darned if ther'll be another!"  
  
The force of her words took Bilbo by surprise. Laura was a very soft and gentle hobbit of average build with a plain face, deep brown eyes and long, loosely curled light-brown hair. She was the true embodiment of everything hobbit. Bilbo knew her word was her bond.  
  
"I know you will Laura, I'm trusting you with the most precious treasure I posses" He rubbed his tired eye's and felt the need to be alone at that moment, he had to compose himself. "I shall be in the kitchen making some tea for everyone" he announces, and before Bell could offer, he was gone. Ham rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, she understood and wove her arm around his waist and gave Laura her full attention.  
  
Laura blushed at Bilbo's faith in her before moving onto Bell. "Mr and Mrs Gamgee! You'll be pleased to hear your boy's as strong as an ox! He's goin ta be just fine." Bell was ecstatic and if possible fussed even more over Sam while Hamfast shook Laura's small, muscular hand firmly before inquiring about his bandaged wrist.  
  
"Ah, well! That would be Mr Merry's doin I'm afraid, he seems ta have a strong grip, but that's just as well now, isn't it?"  
  
"Aye. I owe Master Brandybuck a debt...but is it broken, Mama?"  
  
" No. Badly bruised though, he won't be able ta move it for a week and won't be able to work with it proper for a month after I'm afraid. If ya put him ta work before then it could grow ta be a permanent weakness"  
  
Hamfast raised his hands in a defeated gesture. "No, no I woul'nt hear of it, what you say goes"  
  
Laura smiled. Just then Halfred gave a yawn and rubbed at his eyes, as all the adults smiled fondly at the lad, Ham decided that now the emergency was over there was no point in him being kept from his bed any longer. It would also give him the opportunity to relay the good news to his brother and sisters, who were probably still awake worrying. With goodbyes and a kiss from his mother he left, but not before he found Bilbo in the kitchen staring intently at a wall as he waited for the kettle to boil. He felt so sorry for his master, it was a private moment and he wished now that he had not sort to say goodbye to him.  
  
Bilbo saw the lad frozen in indecision in the archway and stirred, visibly pulling his facade back in place as he smiled wearily at Halfast. He shocked him even more when he drew him into a quick hug and clapped him on the back.  
  
Bilbo had never been what Hal would call a 'touchy feely' hobbit or a father figure, not like his own mother was or his father at times. He mused it must have something to do with not being a proper dad himself, although since Frodo had come to live at Bag-End there had been a definite softening in his old master.  
  
A small cloth-covered basket was handed to him and on reflex he took it. The aroma of peppermint sticks, cinnamon rolls, and various other sweet treats filled his nostrils, making his mouth water despite his exhaustion.  
  
"It's a thank you of sorts," he said in answer to the lads questioning look. "I don't think even Trixiebell could have been swifter on an errand of such importance".  
  
Halfred blushed and cleared his throat before pushing the basket back into Bilbo's hand. "It weren't nothing Sir, I was glad I could help" But he allowed his eyes to linger on the basket before returning them to Bilbo.  
  
Bilbo chuckled and ruffled his hair the way he would Frodo's and firmly pushed the gift back into Halfred's hand, before shooing him towards the door. "Now none of that infamous Gamgee stubborness, I've already got your father and Samwise to contend with, thank the Lady Bell is here!"  
  
Halfred's eye's sparkled, fatigue washed away as the cool night air hit his face, he found himself laughing before he could catch it, yes it was true his family really were a stubborn lot, and Samwise was growing to rival his father!  
  
Bilbo grinned and gave him a wink and a wave before closing the door and returning to his task. The kettle had boiled and he had already arranged two trays on the table each sporting an old brown teapot, as he carefully poured water into the first Laura entered and without a word began to potter around gathering cups, saucers and teaspoons that were on the draining-board; neatly placing them on the trays she stood back and waited as Bilbo returned the kettle to it's hook.  
  
When everything was prepared and ready to be taken through he stepped back and regarded her, she was watching him intently. Her face was open and friendly and she seemed to be waiting for him to speak, she tilted her head to the side in puzzlement and Bilbo realised that he had been staring at her for longer than was polite. He mumbled an apology and grasped the first tray, but her small, surprisingly strong hand stayed him. He set the tray back down and sat, dropping heavily onto one of the chairs; she seated herself opposite him and waited. Bilbo looked to the ceiling and let a shuddering sigh escape him before giving her his full attention.  
  
Guilt lay heavy upon his shoulders as he spoke, "If anything happens to those boys...to my boy, I'll never forgive myself" he cut her off before she could comfort him, he did not want to hear another 'it's not your fault'. "Don't tell me it isn't! I asked them to collect apples when I knew the river would be swollen and should have remembered that 'THAT' orchard was the only one left with fruit. I did not and now this is the end result!"  
  
Laura regarded him carefully; it was obvious he was very tired and more obvious that he would not sleep until his young ward was out of danger. She took a silent breath and steeled herself deciding to take a gamble, this was going to be difficult "I weren't about ta say it weren't your fault sir, for obviously it is" She set about pouring tea into two cups and heaped sugar and something else into Bilbo's, he needed it.  
  
Bilbo was shocked, but nodded mutely; now it had been said by another out loud he felt as if slapped hard. He looked at the tea set in front of him and trembled. Laura afforded herself a quick glance as she sipped the hot liquid; he was barely holding himself together now.  
  
"Drink yer tea sir" She watched as he obeyed without question. "Yes sir all your fault..." He winced at her harsh tone, laced with sarcasm and set his empty cup down. "After all it was you who sent 'em there"  
  
"Please..." He whispered, she nearly gave in at the sound of the broken tone, but continued.  
  
"...And not to mention the fact that you caused the rain!" She slowly sipped allowing what she had said to sink in. He looked at her with unshed tears pooled in his tragic, brow eyes. "That's right, and you made Samwise fall inta the Brandywine right? Master Frodo and Master Merry too! You do get around sir"  
  
He almost smiled, but a tear escaped its dam and he irritatedly swiped at it with the back of his hand. She changed tactics then and completely disarmed him with one quick, bold motion. She drew him into a warm embrace and held him fast until he settled and allowed his head to rest on her shoulder. She rocked the older hobbit as she would an infant, even though she had to lean over to do it. She was not the tallest of hobbits.  
  
It had been many a year since Bilbo found himself comforted in such a bold manner, in fact to his recollection the last time had been on his adventure to the Misty Mountains. Just before the battle when Bard of the Lake people was negotiating with a very stubborn Thorin over the Arkenstone, an heirloom of great importance to the dwarf Thorin. Bilbo had 'acquired it' for Bard in the hope that Smaug's treasure would be shared out equally and thus prevent any lose of life. But Thorin was stubborn and a greed possessed him that day, and being a creature of no hobbit sense (for hobbits do not value such gems and mettles above life. You cannot eat them, nor drink them, nor sleep on them. A practical race are hobbits.).  
  
Thorin's words of anger, betrayal and hatred towards Bilbo had wounded him more deeply then he allowed anyone to see. Except Gandalf, the old wizard and dear friend had comforted him in much the same manner when all was said and done and the problem resolved. But that had been decades ago; yet tonight, for the first time in long years Bilbo took the comfort offered him gladly. He was so tired.  
  
"Nothing will happen to him and it's not your fault" She pulled back at length, just enough to stare into his weary, embarrassed face. "I've seen you out and abou' with the wee one in town, he glows when your near, an I see wha a wonderful, gentle lad he's growin ta be. Lads don' stay like tha without love" She sat back on her heels and allowed him to compose himself.  
  
Her words were rich and comforting, like salve to a wound and Bilbo, though deeply embarrassed at his outburst felt the burden dissolve. But he was tired now and could not suppress a yawn. "Please Miss Goodbody..."  
  
"Laura" She corrected.  
  
"...Laura. I must apologise for my behaviour, I really do not know what has come over me, I'm usually much better at dealing with these kinds of things than this."  
  
"No need for any o' tha" She said reproachfully. The question I want answered is: How do ye feel now?"  
  
Bilbo thought about that for a moment and smiled. "Much better now. Thank you Miss Goo...Laura, you are very kind" he yawned again "I had better get these to Bell and Ham before the tea gets cold. Ham and I still have to bring two of the spare beds through to Frodo's room; they cannot stay as they are. And I know that being near one another will comfort them"  
  
"No Mr Bilbo Sir, I think the only thing you'll be doin' is goin ta bed, I'll watch them for you"  
  
Bilbo shook his head, trying to shake away some of the mist that was slowly muddling his mind. Hamfast came in at that moment, just in time to watch his employer and friend slump forward in his chair and onto the table. Laura caught his head before it hit the wooden surface and gently lowered it, and staying Hamfast's questions with a gesture as he hurriedly approached  
  
Ham picked up the cup Bilbo had drunk from and sniffed. He drew back and gave Laura a very disapproving look before she motioned him to help her get Bilbo to his bedroom. After a little careful manoeuvring on their part and a hand from Bell opening doors and pulling the sheets back, they tucked Bilbo in. Leaving him fully clothed except for his weskit and braces, which Bell had helped Laura remove. He was deep in sleep and didn't stir once.  
  
"You shouldn' done that, it weren't right and you had no right!" He hissed at Lara as Bell quietly closed the door behind them.  
  
"Would ye rather he collapsed on his own later? He's been at the end o' his tether with guilt over this whole mess and ye know it! His lad is gonna need him whole to get through what's comin! He can't be there for the boy when he's asleep on his feet!" She barked back, surprising herself as well as Ham. Come to think of it she could do with rest herself, but she would not find it tonight. "I've already got three patients, given another hour or so an I'd a had four!"  
  
Bell gave her a troubled look as she came to stand by her husband. "Ham's right Laura...I don't like this. What did ye give him? He's out like a light!"  
  
"Just a few odds an ends mixed in the proper proportions. He'll sleep through the night an a good bit of tomorrow too" Ham was really not happy, she continued. "But when he wakes he'll feel ten years lighter! Now are you gonna help me bring in the spare beds or not? The boys also need nightshirts"  
  
"I didn't bring Sam's nightshirt!" Bell voiced. But Bilbo had already placed three of Frodo's baggy, pale blue, cotton ones over the back of a chair, Laura instructed Bell to dress all three while she and the Gaffer sorted out the furniture arrangements.  
  
Soon the beds were in place and Merry and Sam were carefully placed one in each, Hamfast found a new respect for Laura, despite his earlier disapproval, she knew her trade well and was not afraid of hard work; and that was something he could trust in. Though average height for a hobbit- lass she was as strong as a lad. She smiled at him as she wiped the sweat from her brow, catching his look of disbelief. "Bein a healer ain't an easy job" She chuckled.  
  
Bell had to help unpick Merry's fingers from Frodo's, as Ham lifted him from Frodo's bed; Merry seemed to have a death-grip on his cousin. Bell seated herself comfortably in-between Sam's bed and Frodo's while Laura brought through the tea and laid out various powdered herbs and dried leaves just in case. She mixed a bit of honey with lemon and a small amount of sugar in a jug of boiling water and set it on the mantelpiece to cool. Then handed a cup of tea to Ham and Bell, laughing outright when they waited for her to drink hers first; after checking the boys several times they settled down for a quick chat. Soon Bell finally persuaded her husband to go back to the smial and rest, after Hamfast had departed the two women regarded each other for a few moments, relaxing as the fire crackled. Bell broke the silence first.  
  
"What possessed you ta...ta drug Master Bilbo like that?" She could barely say it let alone think it.  
  
Bell sighed, in truth she was starting to have second thoughts about that plan, she knew that if Poppy got wind of her antic's...especially with a Baggins, she was for the sack, no question about it. "It felt right," She said at length staring into the fire.  
  
Her mind flicked back to the image of Rosemary's baby, limp in his mothers shaking arms, Rosemary desperately trying to warm his cold limbs. That's when the keening had started; soft at first, but it grew in volume until it was painful to hear. He'd had no life; he'd never know what it was like to know the simple pleasure of walking, or getting into mischief with his friends, his first crush and starting a family.  
  
Frodo stirred and she was at his side immediately, he did not wake, just pulled a little at the neck of his nightshirt. She gently pulled his raking fingers away before he left a mark and undid the top three buttons, allowing the fabric to part. It hadn't been tight before. Indeed she could have fitted a mans fist into the gap, but it probably felt tight to the child. She smoothed back his curls and felt his forehead; he was hot now, too hot. The fever was surfacing; she drew back all the covers except a thin, single layered green woollen, blanket and a summer thin sheet. He immediately quietened. Bell checked Sam and Merry but confirmed with a shake of her head that they were fine; Laura resumed her seat and pulled an old clay pipe from within the folds of her skirts. Bell stared wide-eyed at her as she lit it and took several puffs. She offered it to Bell.  
  
"I've never tried it" She admitted a little shyly, but accepted it as she moved away from her child and towards the chair opposite Laura, but not before a quick visual once over confirmed Sam was sleeping comfortable.  
  
She coughed and spluttered after her first suck and quickly handed it back to Laura who gently rubbed and patted her back she doubled over, eyes watering.  
  
"How can you smoke tha thing?" She croaked.  
  
"Ha. My da, he caught me messin with his best weed when I were younger" She took another puff "He made me smoke everythin I'd spilt. Thought I'd never look at it again. Bu I found I quite liked it" She chuckled softly "To the end o' his day's he regretted that"  
  
Bell poured herself some more tea and smiled as she wiped the remaining moisture from her eyes. She listened for a long time as Laura explained the complex herbs and their uses and some things that she had found worked herself, which she was very proud of. To Laura's amusement she found that Bell was fast asleep and had been for a while by the looks of it. *Da always said I could talk a race* She mused to herself before slowly taking the finished cup and saucer from Bell's hand, she moved over to take Bells place between the beds and began her vigil.  
  
Frodo grew restless once again, fetching a bowl of cold water and a cloth she gently patted his sweaty face and neck; in slow circular motions she drew the cloth across his exposed collarbone. When she began to dab at his face again she realised that his eyes were half open, though she doubted he was aware of his surroundings, he began to pant heavily as she moved her hand back and forth in front of his eyes looking for a response. She found none.  
  
*So it begins* she thought sadly as tears leaked from his eye's.  
  
  
  
Tbc ~ 


	13. Burning

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: O.k. The herbal remedies I make reference to are directly from the following texts: "The Green Pharmacy" by James A. Duke, PhD & "A Concise Guide in colour, Herbs" by Dr Frantisek Stary + Dr Vaclav Jirasek. Having had viral pneumonia myself as a child the symptoms are what I recall, however I have had to speed them up for my purposes, as viral pneumonia would usually take 4-7 days to get a grip of you and starts with aches to the body. Hope that helps! And to answer several peoples concerns NO this is not going to turn into a Mary-sue! Enjoy! Quick thanks to Rachelstonebreaker for betaring this chapter, 'Thank you!'  
  
STORY WATCH: Llinos has updated "Recaptured" and it's a real emotional chapter, least I found it so, tissue warning! Jastaelf has just posted a new chapter in "Dark Leaf" Oh. My. God! It's good! And dun, dun, dun "The History of Us part 10" is up! And it's really, really riveting! Great work Daisy Gamgee!  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 13: Burning  
  
  
  
*Hot! Burning! *  
  
Frodo felt the gentle caress of an ice-cold hand gliding across his face and neck; he shivered at its almost painful touch, yet leaned into it all the same, anything to escape the burning.  
  
He opened his eyes with great effort but to no avail, the world before them would not come into focus and his head began to pound with the effort of trying. A dampened cloth brushed across his brow and cheek, whilst bringing cold relief, the material felt coarse against his sensitive skin. It washed over him repeatedly leaving a prickling sensation and a strong scent perfumed the air. He was vaguely aware that wherever he was, he was not alone. Two voices floated in and out of the fog, one he did not recognise, but the other was vaguely familiar. Both belonged to women.  
  
He felt the weight of the blanket pulled from his unresponsive body and his shirt removed. He struggled as fear griped him, he didn't understand any of this and the last thing he wanted was to be naked.  
  
"Easy Frodo were only tryin..."  
  
"...Soaked through Mr Frodo, I'll get you another..."  
  
"Can you hear me?"  
  
".... Better if he don't...."  
  
He began to cry. Where was he? Who were these two who took his clothes and why was it so dreadfully hot?  
  
"There, there young sir..."  
  
"...Frodo, it may help. Sir or Master is a bit to formal for the poor little mite right..."  
  
"...Don't feel right, but I'll...."  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
"I don't feel right Miss Laura! He's my Master's lad and by righ' he'll...  
  
"Bell please!" Laura's voice held none of it's customary humour "He's still a child and in desperate need 'o a hug, he don't know what's goin on an like as not, scared!" She frowned as she added "And don't call me 'Miss' all the time...I don't like being so formal" As she spoke, Laura pushed the study-chair she had been using away from the fire and back to its usual corner; she quickly darted to the end of the hall corridor and carried the old rocking chair through.  
  
Bell managed to put a fresh nightshirt on Frodo's struggling form; he was as weak as a kitten she mused sadly, easily brushing aside his flailing arms. When she turned round she saw that Laura had already placed several of the cushions from the window-seat in the rocker and motioned her to sit.  
  
"I've gotta change the linen, it's soaked right through. If ye can take him and try ta calm him down that would be helpful, the less strength he wastes fightin us, the more he'll have ta fight his fever"  
  
Bell sat back in the rocker and made herself comfortable before accepting the limp child into her arms. She gently pulled the thin sheet round him and allowed his head to rest upon her left breast as she gently rocked the chair back and forth, in slow deliberate rhythm. Laura handed her a small glass of the lukewarm lemon and honey mixture and asked her to try and get him to sip it. Not too much though.  
  
As she looked down into his soft pale face she couldn't help the smile that touched her lips, it was the first time she was seeing him as a child and not 'Mr Frodo'. He looked so fragile in her arms at that moment, as if should she grip too tightly, he might break. Yet this child was stronger then he seemed. She traced one of his delicate, limp arms from hand to elbow, these arms had been strong enough to pull her child and his cousin to safety.  
  
He moaned and his eyes opened and fixed on her, for a split second her breath hitched and she ceased the rocking motion. His pallor was such that his cobalt-blue eyes, (which she had always found strange and unsettling in a nice way) now seemed to glow in the dusk of the morning light. She felt herself blush and was about to apologise to him for holding him thus, until his tiny broken voice breathed.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
Her heart broke. Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched confusion play across his delicate features.  
  
"Mama...it's too...." A wet cough cut his sentence short as it racked his frame; thankfully it passed quickly. Laura who had paused in her choir at the painful hacking resumed her work with more haste.  
  
"Easy, easy...Frodo" She felt awkward addressing him in such a disrespectful manner, and hoped he didn't pick up on it. She adjusted his position so that his airway was more open, head tilted back against her arm, while her other reached for the glass.  
  
"Try a little of this...Frodo" She pressed the rim to his parched lips, but he shied away from it stubbornly and despite her insistence he kept his lips pressed firmly shut.  
  
Laura sighed; it was almost painful listening to Bell get her tongue round the name 'Frodo' without the 'Mr'. She pursed her lips as she slid a pillow into a fresh case, "Try talkin ta him as if he were yer own" She suggested.  
  
Bell looked from Laura's kind, sympathetic face to the stubborn glare that had found a home on Frodo's; she chuckled at him despite herself, and resumed the gentle rocking motion again. Sam had not been a child to take ill often, (to hear his father talk you'd think never) but when he had, he would easily get frustrated and cranky, wearing a similar expression. Perhaps this would not be so difficult; after all there was only Laura and herself to bare witness.  
  
Another coughing fit burst unexpectedly from his lips, it was much more savage then the one before and tears trickled from his eyes as he squeezed them firmly shut and tried to ride it out. His head lolled back onto Bells arm heavily; it had sapped the last of his strength, now he found he had to use all his concentration just to hold off the next attack, which was waiting to break free. He became aware of a second set of hands on him now, as he opened his eyes again, panting and sweating anew he felt strong hands at his back and chest.  
  
Laura was rubbing in firm circles over his chest under his nightshirt, the movement was soothing and the pressure she was using was just enough to take the sharp edge off the ever-present need to cough.  
  
"Now then my lad, we'll have none o that nonsense. This will easy yer throat. Shall we try again?" Bell said with authority. She surprised herself, but was delighted to see Frodo's lips part and watched as he clumsily sipped from the glass, every so often a drop escaping down towards his chin, only to be wiped away by Bells waiting hanky. Bell looked to Laura, her hand still pressed to Frodo's chest but no longer rubbing; Laura's eyebrows were raised and a small smile was on her lips but she said nothing, just smoothed back young Frodo Baggins damp curls as he drank the last of the lemon and honey mix.  
  
Frodo gasped for air when the glass was emptied, such had been the effort, but was glad that he had complied, for he felt the sourness in his throat lessen and the vapour from whatever had just been rubbed into his aching chest was fast clearing the cobwebs from his muddled mind.  
  
"T-thank...you, M-Mrs Gam-mgee" Frodo managed to rasp, it felt so good to be held by a mother again; even if it was not his own. He sighed and drifting off into contented sleep  
  
Bell blushed so deeply that even as Laura lifted the sleeping child from her arms she remained seated, mouth gaping. Laura chuckled as she placed Frodo lightly on the fresh, crisp sheets, however she chose to leave the covers folded back at the end of the bed. Frodo needed to be kept cool and whilst Samwise and Merry were benefiting greatly from the rooms temperature Frodo was not. It was slightly warmer then Laura would have preferred for her young patient, but his body's temperature had to be brought down slowly at any rate; this just prolonged the process a bit.  
  
"Easy Bell, tis a good sign tha' he recognised ye! It were more then I'd expected!"  
  
Bell was very glad to hear that, however it didn't stop her from babbling, "B-b-but Miss Laura...the way I spoke ta him, it were..."  
  
"Just what he needed ta hear!" She finished, balancing the damp cloth back on Frodo's brow. "Don't call me 'Miss'!"  
  
"If you say so Laura, its just bein polite, I meant no disrespect" She said softly.  
  
"I know love...but if you call me 'Miss' again I'll have ta start callin ye 'Mrs Gamgee'"  
  
Bell couldn't suppress a chuckle at that, now that the shoe was on the other foot she had to agree, it didn't feel right. "As you wish".  
  
Laura checked his pulse and listened to his chest once again, careful not to wake him. He sounded very congested, she could hear that from where she stood but his pulse thudded strong and steady.  
  
Bell watched idly as Laura flitted between the boys. Sam was in a degree of discomfort as at some point during Frodo's episode he had turned onto his side and lain on his injured wrist. Bell was at his side in an instant and helped pull him onto his back. Laura examined the colour of his fingers and felt the bandage eliciting a small gasp from the sleeping child; his mother quietly soothed him as Laura continued her examination. She fetched an extra pillow and with great care placed Sam's wrist upon it, elevating it would help with the blood flow which Sam unwittingly had restricted, causing the swelling to increase around the bandages which now had to be loosened. At last Sam stopped squirming and fell back into a comfortable, deep sleep, his mother at his side. Laura herself was spent, she had endured far too many sleepless nights of late and the loss of Rosemary's baby still haunted her. She swooned as she rummaged through her bag for her burner and lavender oil.  
  
"Laura!" Bell steadied her and bad her sit down before she fall down.  
  
"How long has it been? How many days?" She asked almost crossly as she observed for the first time the dark smudges under the young healers eyes.  
  
"Two...maybe three days, I can't remember exactly." Laura confessed at length.  
  
Bell was furious. "And how long did ye think ye could keep goin like this? How long?"  
  
"As long as need be!" Laura shot back defensively. "I were the only healer this side o Hobbiton! I told ye before, I lost one patient tonigh' an I don't intend to loose no more!" Her accent thickening as it always did when she was tire or irate. But now that attention had been brought to her lack of sleep Laura felt it keenly and it must have shown, for Bell's expression softened as she reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
  
"It weren't yer fault ye know...at least ye tried. Ye gave him a fightin chance" She emphasized the words, determined that Laura not take this burden to heart.  
  
"I know" She answered softly, but refused to look Bell in the eyes.  
  
"I'm gonin ta make up the guest room over the hall there, you need at least a few hours an I'm already rested" She cut off Laura's feeble half-hearted protests "Yer no good to my boy or Mr Frodo or Mr Merry if yer too tired ta see which lad is which" She jested, still it held a serious undertone. "Laura if ye keep goin like this yer'll make a mistake, one we migh' all have ta life with, do ye understand what I'm tryin ta say?"  
  
"Yes. Yes Bell yer right, I'm being foolish" She rubbed a shaking hand against her eyes and tried to focus. That really was the last straw; her eyes were now refusing to cooperate.  
  
Ten minutes later saw Laura in bed, in the spare room. She was issuing Bell with various instructions about lavender oil and how as well as rubbing it onto the boy's chests, she also wanted it burned by their bed- heads. Then went on to warn her that should anything happen, or if she even suspected anything was wrong then to wake her immediately. Bell promised and Laura finally allowed herself to drift into an exhausted sleep.  
  
Just before she nodded off she thought she heard Bell speaking in a hushed tone, just before sleep took her she realised Bell was singing a sweet Shire lullaby to her son.  
  
  
  
Tbc~ 


	14. Awakenings

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: A huge, huge thank you to Rachel for betaring these last two chapters!  
  
STORY WATCH:  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
1 Chapter 14: Awakenings  
  
  
  
The new day brought much joy to the Gamgee's (or at least if Bell Gamgee had been awake it would have) as Samwise awoke with a start; this was not his room it was Frodo's, and on further inspection this was not his nightshirt either! He looked down at the pale-blue cotton shirt and fingered the delicately embroidered drawstring's, it was a little too tight for him across the chest, definitely Frodo's shirt. He sat up and squinted around the room, the sun was streaming through the window and birds were chirping their various good mornings to the new day. As his eyes adjusted and he allowed them to wonder that they fell upon the two other beds in the room, more to the point those who lay in them. He went to move and hissed as pain emanated from his bandaged wrist, holding it up and carefully rotating it using his elbow he examined it. It was swollen and deep bruises had discoloured his fingers and a good portion of his arm, he wandered if he'd broken it and wiggled the fingers as much as their puffed up joints would allow. No, no breaks, but he'd be darned if he could remember how it happened.  
  
He spotted his mother fast asleep in the chair by the now ashen fire, she looked peaceful but worn, it was then that the events of the previous day came back to him and with a muffled whimper he slide from the bed. His knees refused to lock on their first attempt, leaving him dangling by his good hand from the bedpost, before in sheer determination he wobbled from his bed to Frodo's, leaning heavily on the wooden frame for support, he looked down upon his dear masters face.  
  
Frodo was in deep sleep, he was exhausted from his cough and even now as he drew breath Sam could hear a low rumbling rattle; it sounded painful. Emboldened Sam reached out and brushed back several stray locks that had found their way into his master's eyes, he knew Frodo would have wanted that, but he also felt the need to make contact. Frodo stirred and Sam couldn't help himself as he continued to stroke through those dark curls, frowning slightly at how dry and dull they had become in such a short time, it's usual silken softness and sheen was gone.  
  
*This is all your fault Samwise Gamgee! * He berated himself, "I'm sorry Mr Frodo," he whispered as Frodo grew still. He trailed his fingertips lightly down the side of Frodo's face, marvelling at how soft his skin felt despite its terrible temperature. His fingers glided lower, following the gentle curve of jaw to chin and came to hover over broken lips. He hardly dared breath, never before had he touched his master in such a way, yet his hands seemed to move of their own accord.  
  
*So beautiful...prettier than sunshine on water* He stood mesmerised.  
  
"Sam"  
  
Sam snatched back his hand and spun in the direction of the voice with such speed that his head pounded in protest and it took his vision a moment to adjust. Merry.  
  
Sam had not noticed but Merry had been lying awake the whole time and was now sitting up in bed, his covers tightly clutched to his chest, watching the silent exchange. Merry saw the young hobbit shake with the renewed effort to remain upright, shame burned behind those big brown eyes; Merry beaconed him, patting the empty space on his bed. When Sam finally reached him, he needed to be helped onto the bed, Merry steeled himself as he pulled Sam up onto the bed with a grunt, his other hand clutching his rib of it's own accord.  
  
When Sam managed to catch his breath he asked quietly "Are you in pain Mr Merry?" His gaze travelling to where Merry still clutched his side.  
  
Merry instantly allowed his arm to drop. "Yes, just a bit bruised is all...you?" He inquired looking to the injured wrist.  
  
"Same as you I reckon" Sam said absentmindedly as they both watched their sick friend.  
  
After a long silence Sam found the strength to scoot back against the wall and hugged his knees to his chest. His gaze never wavered from Frodo.  
  
"I would like ta thank you Mr Merry for savin my life" He turned to Merry then and offered his hand. Merry smiled a little at his formality, but shook his hand nonetheless.  
  
"Think nothing of it, what are friends for?" And then as the realisation suddenly dawned on him, "I would also like to apologise Sam, I think I must have done this" He pointed to Sam's injury looking guilty.  
  
"I don't see there's ought to apologise for Sir, I'd be breath water for air by now it weren't for you and Mr Frodo" But his breath caught and the name died in his throat. He clamped his mouth shut and refused to meet Merry's concerned gaze.  
  
Merry sighed, he too, was desperately concerned over his cousin and had actually awoken before Sam, he'd been watching and listening to the rhythm of Frodo's breathing. Even though it held a disturbing rattle, it was a comfort to watch his chest rise and fall.  
  
Frodo had been Merry's best friend at Brandy Hall and they had enjoyed playing many a prank and getting into all sorts of trouble together, that was until Frodo accepted Bilbo's offer to move to Hobbiton. Merry had been very bitter about that for a while, he felt as if he had been left behind and that maybe he had said or done something that swayed Frodo's decision. All such thoughts had been quashed as Frodo had taken him one side before leaving, to explain his reasons, and that he would visit often. Bilbo had also given Merry an open invitation to visit Bag-End. It was bitter to swallow but that at least had made it a little easier.  
  
There had always been a slight tension between Sam and himself and it emanated from Merry, to his shame, he knew that Samwise was aware of it though never once voiced it. Deep down he could not help the dark feelings that twisted his insides, he was jealous of Sam's friendship with Frodo. Frodo and Sam seemed to share a bond that grew in strength with each year that passed, even to the extent that often one would finish off the others sentence (accents aside of course). Merry couldn't help feeling as if he was loosing his older cousin and that he himself was slowly being replaced. It was childish and selfish and he knew it, especially since he had Pippin as a companion, but the feelings were there and they needed to be vanquished.  
  
Merry felt retched as he watched the young gardener shiver, without warning he opened his blankets and drew Sam in. Sam stiffened at first unsure what Merry was doing, but as Merry fussed, making sure that Sam was completely covered Sam relaxed a little, though he was blushing furiously. It wasn't right for two hobbits of such social standing as Frodo Baggins and Meriadoc Brandybuck to treat him as an equal, like now.  
  
"Relax Sam, I'm just trying to stop you from catching a worse chill, Frodo will have my hide if you do" His jest, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam.  
  
"I think I've already got one Sir, if this stuffed up nose of mine is anything ta go by" he looked to Merry then, "And you look about the same if you don't mind me sayin" observing the Brandybuck's flushed cheeks and nose.  
  
Merry just chuckled and nodded in agreement before returning his gaze to Frodo. "You know I'm glad that Frodo has a friend like you living so near...it wasn't easy for him, leaving Buckland I mean. I can imagine adjusting to life in Hobbiton must have been quite stressful for him, especially not being able to swim and climb trees in public and all the things we take for granted at Brandy Hall. It's very reserved here. I don't mean offence Sam, but Hobbiton is very dull compared to Buckland, I never will understand how Bilbo, being as he is, can tolerate it here".  
  
Sam sat in silent digestion for before answering, "Yes Sir, he did find it hard at first, don't think he left the smial much in the beginin. But Mr Bilbo took him off explorin an introduced him to a lot of the local lads his age round here..." He frowned then "...well he an most of the lads his age didn't hit it off you might say. He got a lot of stick about bein a Buck..." Sam slapped a hand over his mouth and cursed himself under his breath. Not only had he just spoken something that he knew Frodo didn't want anyone else to know about, but also just insulted Merry's family name. He began to stutter and stammer an apology until Merry finally interrupted his ramblings.  
  
"Peace Sam, I don't think Frodo will mind my knowing this...and as for the other, it was not you who made the slur, was it?"  
  
"NO! No Sir not me, I would never..."  
  
Bell stirred in her sleep at Sam's overzealous denial, shifting her head to rest at a more comfortable angle before settling. Sam and Merry watched intently until her breathing grew deep before quietly continuing their conversation.  
  
"Well then, please continue. He got stick for being a Bucklander you were saying"  
  
Sam reddened again and gave a quick nod. "Beggin your pardon Sir but yes, he did. Bucklander's have a reputation in Hobbiton Sir, no hobbit sense it's said...now as far as water goes I agree Sir, I don't reckon hobbits were meant for water, but that's as far as my agreeing goes" He looked to Merry to gage the Brandybuck's reaction, there was a faint flicker of something in his grey eyes, as if a storm swirled in their depths, but for the moment remained under lock and key and Sam did not fully understand what that meant. Sam did not back down however, he meant no insult but he stood by what he believed, and was prepared to take the consequences.  
  
Merry laughed at length "After yesterday, how can I disagree with you. But I do ask you to consider this" he paused as he sneezed into his side of the blanket to muffle it's echo and continued with a groan, "if Frodo had not been able to swim... then he would not be alive now, that's probably what saved his life". Merry watched Sam ponder that fact; glad of his distraction he allowed his hand to lightly press against his injured rib. That cold water had done it no good at all, it ached continuously and only heat seemed to chase it away. Merry decided to change the subject to one that he greatly desired tackle. "You know I was jealous of you at first" he blurted, allowing those words to hang in the air, feeling slightly better for voicing them.  
  
Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish several times before the shock wore off; Merry watched in amusement. This was something Sam had not expected, he knew full well that there was always...something tense when the two of them met, and time had not eased that tension. But he would never have dreamed that this was the reason, Meriadoc Brandybuck, son and heir to Saradoc Master of Buckland, was jealous of Samwise Gamgee, a gardener?  
  
Merry couldn't suppress a chuckle that crept from his soar throat, all this talking was making his throat dry, but Sam's reaction was just too comical. "Frodo and I were practically joined at the hip as mum often said, (Esmeralda Took) but then he moved here and I couldn't come and visit nearly as often as I would have liked...and then he met you". Merry's voice held a note of sadness as he remembered what it had been like when it was just he and his cousin, and then his first introduction to Sam whilst visiting Frodo not long after the move.  
  
"Beggin your pardon Mr Merry, but Mr Frodo always speaks very highly of you...and I can tell he misses you, even now. Not like before thankfully, before it were too much, he'd make himself sick"  
  
The last piece of news disturbed Merry greatly, Frodo had always been a touch too sensitive for a lad; but his eyes sparkled as a wide grin spread from ear to ear. He had often wondered if Frodo missed him as much as he missed Frodo, it was comforting. "Thank you Sam, but I feel that you are closer to him now, and I do not begrudge it now, I have Pippin as he has you" He paused considering his next words carefully, he did not wish to speak out of turn. "He cares for you a great deal you realise?  
  
If it were at all possible Sam's blush deepened and he played distractedly with the hem of his nightshirt, he nodded as his eyes found Frodo's face once more. He was beautiful awake, he was absolutely breathtaking in sleep, despite the sickness which he could just about detected around the heavy scent of Lavender that perfumed the air.  
  
Merry uncharacteristically reached the small distance between them under the covers and drew the teary-eyed hobbit into a strong one-armed embrace. Sam dissolved into silent tears that shook the pair of them and brought Merry's side more discomfort, but he ignored it. "He'll be alright, Frodo's stronger than he looks and has come through worse" He only wished he were as confident as he sounded.  
  
*Elbereth, please don't make me a liar*  
  
To Merry's surprise he realised that Sam had fallen fast asleep soon after his sobs had subsided, his breathing was deep and steady, with just the hint of a catch that Merry could detect. Yes, Sam was indeed coming down with a cold. He carefully lowered him into the bed and shifted the covers from himself to Sam, tucking him in securely and gently pulling his injured arm free to rest across his broadening chest.  
  
He could tell why Frodo held the gardener so dear; there wasn't a mean nor dishonest bone in his body.  
  
Merry stifled another sneeze as he slipped from his bed and came to stand next to his cousins, he sighed. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed, that was new, it had to have happened just a moments ago. Merry brushed back the same renegade dark curls that Sam had been playing with earlier, and lay the back of his hand against his brow. He quickly snatched it back, startled by the heat that radiated from his cousins flesh.  
  
*How can you endure this? *  
  
He stood there for long moments contemplating, he hardly noticed when he himself began to shiver, so lost was he in his thoughts. He didn't even hear the bedroom door open, nor see the shadowed figure of his Uncle slip silently through as he came to stand near Merry.  
  
Bilbo looked a mess and he knew it, to his annoyance. His braces were missing, as was his weskit and the top buttons of his shirt had been undone. Someone must have put him to bed, he was embarrassed by the thought, but even more disturbed that he had fallen asleep in the first place and left his young nephews alone.  
  
As he entered Frodo's room he was surprised to see the figure of Merry trembling slightly against the light that poured through the window behind him. His joy at seeing his nephew awake and well enough to stand was short lived; he had many questions that needed answers as he observed Merry's right arm thrown tightly about his waist. He came to stand less than a few feet away and slightly to the side of the young Brandybuck, with stealth born not only of a hobbit, but also of a thief. His travels had taught him well, for he now stood less than an arms length away from Merry, and Merry remained ignorant of his presence.  
  
Merry's eyes seemed dull, as they remained fixed on Frodo, it was only then in that moment that Bilbo realised how changed Merry had become. His eyes were full of contained emotion and obvious distress over his ill cousin... yet they were hard as stone and gave very little of anything else away. Not the eyes of a child in their teens at all, it was the look of someone lost to themselves. *How different you are to Frodo my lad* he mused. Frodo with eyes so full of life and love; that burned with curiosity and a lust for knowledge that rivalled his own, open and trusting. Alive.  
  
Movement caught his eye as Merry reached out a slender hand and dipped one of Frodo's handkerchiefs into the bowl of cold water that stood on the bookshelf; just enough to dampen it and began to gently dab at Frodo's brow.  
  
"I wish you would wake up dear cousin" he paused as he continued to mop his jaw and neck, "Sam is blaming himself for this whole mess, and you know how stubborn he is...I don't think he will believe anyone but you".  
  
Newly formed beads of sweat were slowly trickling down Frodo's temples, as Merry brought the cloth back to rest were he started. Frodo stirred, brows knitting together as he fought for consciousness.  
  
Merry dropped the handkerchief and laced his hand in Frodo's. "Frodo? Frodo, can you hear me?" he held his breath and leaned close, his own pain forgotten. Bilbo took a step closer and also held his breath with barely contained excitement.  
  
Frodo's long dark lashes fluttered several times before they opened half way to reveal fever bright sapphires, glazed and unfocused. His fingers weakly closed around Merry's, "Papa?" he whispered, drawing a shaky breath and repeating himself. He turned his head slowly towards Merry, visibly annoyed at how hard it was to do just that. His throat was very dry and hurt to swallow, his lips were parched and he felt entirely miserable. "Papa I'm thirsty".  
  
Merry felt sick and could not stifle a dry sob, his body began to shake with renewed weariness and he swooned.  
  
Bilbo shot forward and steadied him with one arm around his waist, careful to avoid the damaged side. "Easy lad, I'll take care of him now, back to bed with you."  
  
Merry was too tired to even be startled; he'd gone beyond that emotion as exhaustion invaded it limbs. He allowed his uncle to help lower him into the chair between the two beds. "But uncle..." the timbre of his voice broke several times "...he doesn't recognise me!"  
  
"It's the fever Merry, it's not over yet, and he still has a way to go before it breaks." He whispered softly as he stroked Frodo's cheek.  
  
"But I thought...I thought that he was alright now that were safe indoors." A tear ran a slow course down his cheek as he stared wide-eyed at his Uncle.  
  
Bilbo gave Merry his handkerchief and bustled around, finding the jug of Lemon and honey and pouring Frodo a small glass. He slowly lifted Frodo's head while pressing the glass to his lips insistently, gratified to see Frodo take several lethargic swallows before gasping for breath. Merry found the strength to take over from Bilbo as the older hobbit set about finding a new nightshirt. Merry managed to get Frodo to take half of the juice before it became obvious that Frodo was unable to swallow anymore. Merry lowered his head back to the pillow and slumped back into the chair as he watched his uncle strip his cousin of the damp garment and dress him in a new one.  
  
Frodo's eyes had closed, but from the rise and fall of his chest Bilbo could tell he was not yet asleep. "There, does that feel better my boy? Is there anything you would like me to fetch for you?" He asked as he checked his temperature with the back of his hand for a second time in as many minutes.  
  
Frodo licked his sore lips several times before he was able to form a reply. "No" he cracked his eyes open again and for a brief moment they were focused. "Uncle?"  
  
"Hello lad, how are you feeling?"  
  
He blinked at him; a small frown marred his features as he tried to understand the question. "Uncle?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I think...I think I broke your vase" Tears pooled as he worried his bottom lip, eyes becoming impossibly large as he tried to hold back the tide and suppress a sob and failing on both counts. "I-I'm s-s-sorry." He sobbed.  
  
Merry's heart broke as he watched his uncle quietly comfort his confused cousin, after several minutes of Bilbo gently rocking Frodo he broke into a sweet elven lullaby, it was as sweet as flowers smelt in spring after the rain. The song penetrated the haze and sent Frodo into a peaceful sleep, much to Bilbo's relief; Mrs Gamgee had not stirred once throughout the whole ordeal.  
  
*Poor Bell, and Miss Goodbody by the sound of the snoring next door*  
  
Merry's own lids began to droop; when he opened them again he found Bilbo gently pushing him down into Sam's bed and tucking him in. He realised that he must have dropped off briefly during Bilbo's song. He yawned and sneezed at the same time as his head settled comfortably into the soft pillow. "Uncle, is Frodo going to be alright?"  
  
"He'll be just fine Merry, now enough! You and Sam are not to leave your beds, you both have colds of your own to work through, you leave Frodo to us"  
  
"Your not just saying that to make me feel better are you? I mean...that's what I told Sam earlier, I wanted it to be true...but I really wasn't sure. Your not just doing what I did are you Bilbo?"  
  
"No Merry, I firmly believe Frodo will be well before we know it ...and the three of you will be back driving me barmy in no time" He held a hanky to Merry's runny nose and instructed him to blow, before lightly brushing the pad of his thumb repeatedly over his eyebrow as before. Merry smiled and drifted off to the sound of elvish as Bilbo resumed his song.  
  
  
  
Tbc ~ 


	15. Who are you?

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to post their feedback to me in light of the continued problems Fanfiction is experiencing. BellaMonte many thanks for your lovely e-mail, hope this next chapter is to your liking!  
  
STORY WATCH: Rachelstonebreaker has taken matters into her own hands in light of the continued troubles of FanFiction.net and her MANY times updated story "Recovery" can now be read at: http://www.beckyswebdesign.com/ff/recovery1.htm Llinos has updated "Recapture" and it's a nail biting chapter *Aaaaaaaagh! * And I've practically screamed the place down when I read "Explain the night" by Eretria (did actually shout 'No!' And in doing so scared my mate to death. Whoops!). "Little Bird" by Murron is a sweet stand on it's own tale about Pippin mainly (very sweet and well worth a read). | | |  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
  
  
Chapter 15: Who are you?  
  
  
  
Three days pasted painfully slowly at Bag-End. Samwise and Merry awoke the next morning after their trauma, as well as could be expected, both suffering from colds. Later it was decided to move them to the double guestroom next-door to Frodo's room, under a great deal of protest. However when it was explained that it was to protect Frodo they accepted this explanation, for Frodo was plainly gravely ill.  
  
Sam and Merry wanted for nothing as Bell Gamgee officially took over both lads care, thus freeing Laura to concentrate solely on Frodo, who seemed to have taken a turn for the worst of late.  
  
Daisy was placed in charge of her mother's choirs while Hamson took over his father's workload in the village. Halfred tended to the family choirs that were too heavy for Daisy and the others, gardening, chopping firewood, in short most of the manual labour, while Hamfast set about forking over the sodden, ruined gardens at Bag-End. They had suffered, and all but the most hardy of plants and trees had either been washed away or become so waterlogged that it had started to rot root first. It also meant that should any unexpected developments happen, he would be at hand. In short the Gamgee family had moulded itself into an even stronger, more efficient unit than it had before.  
  
Hamfast however could not help but detect a slightly strained atmosphere between Daisy and May, as they worked together in the kitchen at Bagshot Row, a quarrel of some sort no doubt. May's behaviour of late had been a bit off he noticed, she simply wasn't her usual chatty self and seemed to concentrate on her work more than was needed. He kept a watchful eye on her hoping that it was just sisterly concern towards her brother that was forcing her from her bed at night. If it had anything to do with a lad he would certainly have both their hides. But for the moment he had other priorities, he would have to ask Daisy about her sister's new nightly escapades later.  
  
Sam's wrist was giving him a great deal of pain and though he bore it stoically his father informed Laura of the situation and it was agreed that Sam needed some form of pain relief. However none could have foreseen that he would outright refuse it, even a stern word from his father could not sway him. He simply stated that he didn't need it and that it wasn't as bad as it looked.  
  
Hamfast couldn't help the swell of pride that gleamed in his eyes, but he had spoken with Merry that morning and knew the truth. Sam was in a great deal of pain, Merry had been watching him closely out of the corner of his eye when Sam thought him asleep; he watched as silent tears rolled down his round face, eyes scrunched shut, as he clutched his wrist close to his chest. Merry also mentioned that Sam was blaming himself for the whole accident and that he thought maybe Sam was trying to punish himself. This worried Ham a great deal, he had long known of his son's affection for Master Frodo and that it went further than the normal master-servant relationship, there was really friendship between the two. He had never been particularly easy about that, but knew that Frodo without Sam was like Strawberries without cream, they just seemed to fit.  
  
Laura managed to mix a very potent concoction of Lemon Balm, ginger, Camomile and Poppy pods, which could be taken with juice but was most effective as a tea. A few drops of the boiled down liquid mix in apple juice was enough to send Sam to sleep for hours at a time. It also enabled her to bathe the joint and change the bandage without causing him any further pain, for which Hamfast and Bell were very grateful. Although Laura did later receive a thorough dressing down from Bilbo when he realised why he had fallen asleep so suddenly the other night!  
  
Laura also took the opportunity to show Bell exactly what needed doing and when, for both boys. She really could not afford as much time to them as she would like, but Bell was a mother six times over and knew most of the basics already. She proved to be a fast learner and possessed a memory the envy of any healer worth their salt. Each lad needed a strip-wash every morning and evening, with water infused with various oils. Bell found it easier to wash her son (who turned as red as a beetroot at the mere suggestion) after he had consumed his juice. When he was drifting between consciousness and sleep, just awake enough to take a command without question, usually 'arms up' or 'turn over'. She could not however even get within three feet of Merry; she managed to stifle a giggle at the look of absolute horror on his red face at the prospect of being bathed. A solution was reached; Hamfast filled the tin bath in the washroom with four inches of hot water each morning and evening and helped support a very shaky Merry down the corridor and to the edge of the tub.  
  
"You can leave now, I'll be fine on my own thank you" Merry stated breathlessly the first time.  
  
Hamfast was having none of it; on the way down the corridor Merry had been forced to lean on him heavily. "Now then young Master, I didn't go to all the trouble o' makin sure there weren't enough water for ye ta drown in, only ta have ya slip on this here wet floor and hurt yerself"  
  
Merry looked down at the slate beneath his feet, it was dry as a bone, Hamfast had not spilt a single drop, he looked up again and realised that he had turned his back on him so that he at least had some privacy. Merry sighed as he used one hand to steady himself against the tub, silently cursing his bodies weakness, while the other hand worked to pulled his nightshirt up round his waist. When it was bunched as far as if would go he turned and sat on the side of the tub and pulled it over his head, dropping it to the floor. He then gingerly leaned back and splayed one hand on the bottom of the tub and slowly slid his body down into the water. It was just the right temperature and felt like balm to Merry's fatigued body, he unconsciously let out a moan of pleasure as his eyes fluttered closed, allowing the sensation to envelope him.  
  
At the sound of water moving and stilling, and the soft moan that reached his sharp ears (allowing himself a chuckle), Hamfast decided it was time to leave. "Will ye be wanting anything else Sir?"  
  
"No I'm alright thank you"  
  
"Very good. I'll be back in fifteen minutes then to help ye out"  
  
Merry's eyes popped wide open. "No I can manage that"  
  
"Not without someone in the room Sir, I'm under yer Uncles orders...but if ye think ye can do it on yer own, then I'll keep me back turned like this while ye do it. Tis the best I can offer Sir, under the circumstances"  
  
Merry thought this over, his uncle didn't give outright orders often, but he knew that Hamfast would follow them to the letter. He looked at Hamfast, the tension written across the gardener's muscular shoulders and the way he'd planted his feet a good width apart told Merry he was awaiting an answer. Warring with emotions Merry chided himself, *Pull yourself together idiot, he's going to start thinking your odd* but he couldn't stop a chill from running down his spine. "I'll see you again in fifteen minutes then, I shan't try to get out until then...you have my word".  
  
Ham nodded in approval. "On your word then sir. I'll be back in fifteen, call if ye need ought"  
  
As Hamfast opened the door to leave he caught a less steady voice whisper "thank you" before he heard the water sloshing and a cloth being lathered.  
  
***  
  
"Who... are you?"  
  
Those three simple words were enough to elicit a small involuntary cry of pain, which Bilbo instantly stifled as he looked pleadingly to the healer. Laura mirrored his anguish to a degree, this was not right; the fever should be coming down not going up! She had followed her training to the letter and beyond, this should not be! She checked again running her small hands through Frodo's, thick, sweat-soaked curls, they came away dripping. The fever was on the rise and had brought back a new wave of painful, exhaustive coughing fits that left Frodo's small frame trembling with fatigue. There was only one thing for it; Laura had to get as much of the fluid off of Frodo's lungs as she could to give him a fighting chance.  
  
She pinched and pulled a small area of skin on the back of his right hand, then released it, frowning at how little elasticity it exhibited as the skin slowly drew back into place. That was a bad sign, it meant that their frantic efforts to keep the young Master hydrated were failing, his body was slowly, painfully, loosing its battle. And Frodo was slipping away from them.  
  
Frodo tried to pull his hand from her grasp and cried out in pain, his skin was overly sensitive and he was so tired of being too hot, poked and prodded. It was all becoming too much for him to bear. Every time he awoke he found it harder and harder to tell which was dream and which was reality. Everything seemed to be fading, memories of better times, beloved faces, were being ripped from his very cells. He felt completely alone and scared witless, hands reaching out at him from the dark, words that he could not understand, and the never ending fire that was consuming his body and driving him mad. Panting from his exertions his eyes focused briefly on the old hobbit beside his female torturer, he glared hatefully into those brown eyes and managed to rasp again, "Who are you?"  
  
The hobbit stiffened and his eyes glistened with unshed tears, his features twisting in pain and he reached out to lightly caress his distraught child. But before he could Frodo turned away from him and began to sob into his pillow "Why-Why do you l-let her hur-r-rt me?" He then, in a last ditches effort to escape, tried to swing his legs over the opposite side of the bed. Strong hands locked around his limbs and he was pulled back onto the mattress, exhausted and screaming.  
  
"DON'T TOUCH ME!!!" His throat tore in mid-scream and was forced to continue in a panting whisper. "Please...p-please don't do this to me..." He closed his eyes and fell into a troubled sleep.  
  
Bilbo smoothed the locks away from Frodo's face once more, as it was their mission to poke in the poor lads eyes relentlessly; he didn't even try to hide the anguish in his tone as he asked, "How is he, Laura? He seems worse."  
  
Her eye's stung as tears began to form, but she refused to allow them freedom, and smiled. "He's doing fine Sir, just fine. No need to..." But her façade crumbled as she turned to Bilbo and saw the shadows form in the depths of his dark brown eyes. She gasped and took an involuntary step back; his earthen eyes had turned almost black and pierced her to her very core. She had never noticed before how frightening Master Bilbo could be as the shadow descended upon him. "I'm sorry Sir" She said and looked away for an instant.  
  
"Don't give me false hope lass, it is cruel and unbecoming of you. Tell me" He implored, though he feared he knew the answer already.  
  
When she was able to continue she made sure she held his gaze to insure that he knew she was telling him the truth. "He's in a bad way Sir. I've treated him every way I know how...but he don't respond."  
  
"What's wrong with him? Sam and Merry suffered the same experience yet they are only afflicted with colds, neither has show anything like..." Bilbo waved his hand frustratedly in his nephew's direction as speech failed him. A deep frown making the lines on his face seem more severe as he watched his nephew weakly toss his head and mumble to himself.  
  
"True sir. But Mr Merry and Samwise weren't in the water as long as Mr Frodo, the cold had longer to work itself inta him...I have no idea how he managed ta pull himself clear. By the laws o' Hypothermia he shouldn' ta been able ta do even that!"  
  
She paused taking in his too thin body that was rapidly becoming gaunt looking (hobbit-lads cannot go for more than a day without suffering noticeable weight loss); he had not taken a single bit since the accident. "And to be honest with ye Sir, he never could carry a decent weight."  
  
"That's the Brandybuck in him I'm afraid, he takes after his fair mother, she never carried a normal hobbit's roundness...even after his birth"  
  
"With this kind o situation sir it don't do him no favours. He's got less to spare than the others"  
  
"But Merry has a slender build also, Brandybuck blood again. I'll grant not as slender as my lad, where is the difference?!" Bilbo was desperate to find an answer. He was usually so good at working out riddles, but where Frodo was concerned his mind remained a nest of confusion.  
  
"I'm sorry sir...I don't have all the answers, I wish I did" She looked down at her hands, they displayed a light speckling of a yellowish brown sputum with a few flecks of blood here an there. Frodo had started coughing it up that morning, it had not gone unnoticed by Bilbo, but Laura had just cleaned the lad up and held a cloth to his mouth as he coughed again. The blood was not a good sign, and she quickly gave Frodo a once over. As she dapped the damp cloth gently over his mouth and chin she turned the cloth over and examined it closely; it showed a faint pinkish tinge in places.  
  
"I need ta wash me hands, I'll be back in a minute" She hurried from the room. Once she closed the door to the inside washroom she scrubbed her hands and nails thoroughly. She looked in the mirror at her haggard appearance, *not good girl for a lass of thirty-eight! * She chided. There had to be a way, she'd made a promise and she intended to see it true.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she had been in there staring into nothingness, but she jumped when Bilbo knocked on the door and inquire as to her well being, also apologising for his harsh questioning earlier. As she turned to open the door and try to lighten the mood with a joke her eyes fell upon the huge, deep, metal tub that lay upturned in the corner of the slate floored room. Yes! Her mind raced, it would be an arduous task, but it was the only thing left to try. She ripped open the door with such ferocity that it sent Bilbo reeling back in surprise, "I got one choice left sir, how fast can yer tub be filled with lukewarm water?  
  
"As fast as need be, Master Hamfast is out in the garden and will not mind helping. Why?"  
  
"Well sir, Mr Frodo has fluid on his lungs an it's goin bad...that's what this muck is he keeps bringin up. If we can bring down his fever a little an get him to breath in more o that Lavender oil then it'll help loosen everything enough"  
  
"Enough for what?" He asked as he turned the heavy tub over and dragged it into the centre of the room, fetching a stack of towels from the cupboard and placing them in preparation on the side.  
  
"Well now, that'll be the hard part, I'll need yer help."  
  
"Anything!" Bilbo interrupted before he realised he'd spoken and bad her continue.  
  
"The way Mr Frodo is now it'll most likely hurt him... a lot. But I need ta have him on his bed and pound his back a bit" She gave a weak smile as Bilbo listened intently. "The lavender should have worked it's magic by then and my hands'll do the rest...he needs ta bring up as much muck as he can. The less inside the better he'll breath"  
  
"I understand. Is it safe?"  
  
"Completely, but painful for the lad"  
  
"Has it been done before?"  
  
"Yes sir"  
  
But Bilbo detected the slight hesitation in her answer. "But not by you" It was not a question.  
  
"No Sir, it hasn't. But I've been trained by the best, folk say what they will about Miss Poppy's bedside manner, but there's no denyin her quality"  
  
Bilbo's eyes softened and he gave her a small smile, "I meant no offence Laura, if you say you can do this then I will believe you"  
  
"I can sir, it's what I'm trained for" But she secretly wished for Poppy, her confidence had taken a beating since the babies death. It had been the first time a patient in her care had died, it had effected her more deeply than when she and Poppy had lost patients in the past.  
  
Within twenty minutes a bath stood waiting filled with lukewarm water, about two feet deep. Bilbo carried through a very groggy, limp Frodo. Laura removed Frodo's shirt while still in his uncle's arms, he moaned, as he was shifted first one way and then the other. Laura moved round the opposite side of the tub and rolled up her sleeves as Bilbo slowly lowered Frodo.  
  
Although the water was lukewarm, to Frodo it felt like he had been plunged naked into a snowdrift. He clung desperately to the shirt of the one that lowered him further and reared as far as his exhausted body would permit. His eyes refused to open and small pitiful sounds of pain crawled past his chattering teeth.  
  
Bilbo managed to unpick Frodo's fingers from his weskit, surprised at their strength as a button popped under the strain, he lowered him the rest of the way down until just his face was above water. The scent of lavender rose from the bath water, the air was heavy with moisture and it wasn't long before Bilbo heard a change in Frodo's breathing pattern. It was becoming more laboured as the herbs set to work.  
  
Laura added several other oils to the water as Frodo's lungs began to protest, just another ten minutes and it would be over. She didn't really know Frodo all that well but the handful of times their paths had crossed he had always been very kind and conscientious. The first time they met, she had been struggling to carry both her leather medical bag (which she was never caught without) and two baskets full of mushrooms, cheese, fresh fruit and vegetables It had been Frodo who had cheerfully abandoned his own business and come to her rescue. Even going so far as to take both baskets and walk her to her door, she chuckled to herself at the memory. She hadn't a clue how to repay someone of his social standing and had rather shyly offered, the then tween, an apple as a token of her thanks. But instead of rejecting it or laughing he had accepted it with glee and excused himself...something about a tailoring appointment and ran off before she could say anything more. Not even a shadow of the hobbit his relatives the Sackville-Bagginses had painted of him, but then as she knew, they were hardly ones to throw stones. Laura herself found their behaviour quite disgraceful and their son was a darn right menace!  
  
"Laura? Laura! His breathing sounds dreadful"  
  
Bilbo's voice brought her back sharply, she realised she had allowed her mind to wonder and cursed herself for it. "How long has he been breathing like that?"  
  
"About ten minutes" The note of annoyance could not be concealed in Bilbo's answer.  
  
Laura smiled and opened out one of the large fluffy towels as an unspoken signal, while Bilbo lifted Frodo's shaking body from the water. Laura moved forward and quickly wrapped him up until only his long legs and wet curls could be seen.  
  
He had started to cough again by the time they reached his room; Bilbo dried him off thoroughly as Laura manoeuvred another nightshirt over his head. Bilbo caught her smiling and knew what she was thinking.  
  
"I know, I know. It's just as well that I insisted on buying him as many as I did, though I don't think it was the present he wanted!" Bilbo grinned as he continued to dry Frodo's hair. "He still hasn't grasped the importance of fine cloths, prefers to go off climbing tree's and running through mud filled fields in any fabric! Satin, silk, velvet, nothing is safe..." He paused as he finished his task and discarded the towel, "...and I wouldn't want to change him for the world. Although I'm sure Fern is going to have her work cut out for her tomorrow, between the three of them I believe they've gotten through at least fifteen nightshirts in all and I'm not even going to attempt to count the linen"  
  
Laura chuckled.  
  
Their merriment was cut short as Frodo lurched forward in Bilbo's arms and began to cough uncontrollably.  
  
"Poor little mite" Laura breathed as she rubbed his back while Bilbo held his head for him. Then she remembered herself and quickly continued, "It'll be over soon Mr Frodo, just this last little bit to do an then ye can sleep"  
  
With Bilbo's help she turned Frodo onto his stomach, facing the foot of his bed and pulled him down until his head hung over the edge. Then she knelt next to him and began to rub his back quite firmly, moving her hands with practised ease between his prominent shoulder blades, then from one side of his spin to the other. All the while Bilbo squatted in front of Frodo, bowl in one hand and cloth in the other murmuring something to him in another tongue. It did seem to be easing the child's discomfort. After several minutes of doing this Laura began to lightly clop in rapid succession with both hands over one small area at a time, her hands were a blur of movement; the beautifully smooth, delicate skin beneath them began to redden. Frodo's body began to vibrate with the dull thudding sounds her hands were creating; he came back to wakefulness as the force of Laura's strikes increased.  
  
"Aaagh! Stop! Stop it!" Frodo cried, his voice echoing the strikes, before a violent cough bubbled to the surface.  
  
He coughed up more of the fluid from before into the waiting bowl and began to sob in misery. Laura was encouraged as he brought up more and more of the foul liquid, gagging as he did, face turning impossibly red. By the time she had finished, Frodo was almost unconscious, head limp, body unmoving, too tired to even shiver, and mouth hanging open. His back was red-raw and Bilbo wore an agonised look as he stroked his child's sweat soaked cheek. Small drops of perspiration dripped from Frodo's curls onto the back of Bilbo's hand, as he continued the calming gesture. It seemed to be doing the trick as Frodo's breathing began to return to its proper rhythm.  
  
Laura marvelled at the strength of bond that the two cousins obviously shared, Frodo's mind might not have recognised Bilbo for the moment, but his body remembered his touch and he visibly relaxed under his Uncles gentle caresses and soothing words.  
  
Frodo's eyes were distant and heavy lidded and he was only dimly aware that whoever had been hitting him had stopped. He wondered briefly if he had gotten into a fight, but was too exhausted to persue the thought further. He fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
Merry had had to be sedated next door, as the screams and groans of his cousin penetrated the adjacent, thick stonewall and reached his hearing. Both Bell and Hamfast had managed to thwart his best efforts to sneak out, he had hope that when it came time for Hamfast to leave and tend his own work and home that he would be able to take advantage then. But he had only managed to get as far as opening the door, when a very stern looking Bell ordered him back to bed. When he refused he was startled to find himself being carried back and placed in bed. Bell was stronger then she looked.  
  
She chuckled at his expression "Ye have ta be strong ta bring six bairns inta this world Master Brandybuck"  
  
Merry flushed and decided his hands were very interesting all of a sudden. Bell smiled as she pushed him back onto his pillow and pulled the covers up to his chest, lightly tucking him in.  
  
"What's happening to Frodo? What are they doing to him? He sounds in pain!" Merry chewed his lip as he waited for a response.  
  
Bell's face grew sad as she sat by Merry's bed and tried to explain things as best she could. "Master Frodo has the fever as ye know" He nodded. "Miss Goodbody is doing everythin she can for him. He's in good hands. Now don't ye go frettin none"  
  
"But why is he screaming like that?" Merry persisted and as if in answer to his question another blood chilling scream rang out.  
  
Bell sighed. "He don't understand what's happenin ta him. That's why Mr Bilbo won't leave him, sometimes he remembers and it's Mr Bilbo he looks for."  
  
Large tears had silently trickled from Merry's eyes as he listened, his poor cousin.  
  
"There, there now, don't cry Sir. He'll be well soon, you'll see"  
  
But Merry wasn't really listening, he was just grateful that Sam was asleep and did not have to listen to Frodo's continued cry's, it would break his heart...as it was breaking his own.  
  
*What I wouldn't give for you to be here with me now Pip, I could really do with some cheering up* He wished, then became annoyed with himself in that same moment. *Yes, that's right, wish him to be here so he can see and hear our cousin like this. Give him nightmares for the rest of his life! Selfish Brandybuck! * He rolled onto his good side and tried his hardest to sleep; anything to block out the images of what was happening to Frodo, from manifested themselves in his brain.  
  
Bell soon became concerned as Merry missed his two evening meals, not even Sam could coax him to take a bite, and he wore a vacant expression. But it was his silence that was most disconcerting, in the end Bell briefly consulted with Laura.  
  
Laura closely followed by Bell entered the room; Laura made a beeline for Merry. Merry had briefly fallen back to sleep, Laura took the opportunity to study the lad. He was making excellent progress yet he still wore dark smudges under his eyes and did seem a little paler than the evening before. She slowly sat on the edge of his bed and checked his temperature, normal, that was good. She was in the process of opening his mouth when he surprised awake and caught the hand trying to pry his mouth open before he could blink the sleep away.  
  
"It's alright Mr Merry, only me" She allowed her hand to be gripped until he was awake enough to realise what he was doing and blushed, quickly withdrawing the offending hand. "Now I'm just giving ye a quick once over, it needs ta be done, so ye just lie back an it'll be over soon"  
  
Merry only nodded and stared at the ceiling awaiting the examination to continue.  
  
Laura frowned, this was not the reaction she had expected and it worried her a touch. She opened his mouth and had a good look round, as her other hand felt his glands and then checked his pulse. She went on to examine his eyes and test their reaction rates and asked him to follow her fingers.  
  
"Last check sir and it's all over" She reached for the bedding and pulled it down to his waist then started to pull his nightshirt up. That got a reaction. Merry grabbed the offending material that Laura had already bunched at his waist and held if firm, while he formed a death grip with his other hand on the bedding. He glared at her unflinchingly while the two of them locked eyes. Laura pursed her lips she wanted very much to speak with Merry, alone, about this, but now was not the time. And so far the silent exchange had not attracted Bell's attention as she fused around her son. She would not embarrass the young lad, and gossip was too easily started in the Shire. 'Walls have ears' her old dad had said, and never a truer word spoken, especially in Hobbiton!  
  
She sighed as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I'm not goin ta harm ya Merry, but I need to check that rib" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Ye know it was broke, right?" She drew back to study him.  
  
Merry's face drained of what little colour it had and he pinched his lips, but his eyes softened and after a time he gave her a small nod. He unhooked his fingers from the bedding and shirt, and forced himself to breath normally as Laura very gently pulled back his shirt enough to expose the injury, all the time making sure her body blocked any view that Sam or Bell might have.  
  
The soft flesh was still discoloured with a brownish yellow bruise, but on the whole it looked very good. Laura never ceased to be amazed at how quickly children healed compared to their adult counterparts. She ran her fingers over the area and easily located the slight bump, pushing lightly around it and then over it, all the time watching Merry's face as he continued to stare into nothingness. He didn't seem to be in pain, just to make sure she pushed once more over the bump. A large, lone, tear ran quickly down Merry's cheek, she had found the small chink in his armour. So it was pretence after all, he was in pain, and had managed to conceal it better than most adults, which she found disconcerting.  
  
She retrieved a medium sized bottle containing a brownish liquid, which she pored into her hand and, with great care, worked into that whole area until his skin had completely absorbed it, leaving only a brown smudge. She pulled his shirt back down and carefully arranged his bedding back up to his chest, stroking his curls as she contemplated her patient.  
  
The Propolis liquid would help with the rib, but he desperately needed sleep, that much was obvious and she was now positive that he was not getting much of that on his own. Reluctantly she gave permission for Bell to give him some of Sam's herbal mix.  
  
Bell was a sharp woman and realised the source of Merry's new distress, Frodo, and upon relaying that information to Laura, the healer decided to up the dosage to six drops. She handed her another small phial and asked her to use two drops of it in his drink as well. It would insure that when he awoke he would not be able to deny his hunger. With that said and done Laura quickly hurried back to Frodo's room.  
  
"Are you alright Mr Merry?" Sam asked at length from across the room. He had picked up on the strained atmosphere, but had waited until the adults were out of earshot before addressing the source.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Did I do something to upset you? If I did then I'm very sorry"  
  
That earned him a faint smile and a slow shake of Merry's head.  
  
Just then Bell returned with a nice piping hot meal of delicious vegetable soup, thickly laced with mushrooms for Sam and a glass of juice for Merry. She set about fluffing Sam's pillows and making sure he was comfortable before placing a spare pillow across his lap and placing the bowl in it's centre. Sam breathed in its aroma and smiled up at his mum as she beamed and kissed his brow, ruffled his golden curls.  
  
"Eat up my lad, I done it just the way ye like it, with a little pepper an plenty o' mushrooms!"  
  
"Thanks Ma" But as he went to take his first bit he noticed that Merry had nothing and slowly lowered his spoon and looked worriedly to Merry, he was reluctant to eat if Merry did not.  
  
Bell frowned at her son and followed his gaze to the young Brandybuck who lay unmoved as before, hands folded behind his head, staring. In a forced cheery voice she walked over to his bedside. "Are ye sure I can't persuade ya ta at least try a little soup? I reckon ye'd like it if ya gave it a try" She coaxed.  
  
But he just shook his head and took to staring out the window beside the head of his bed once more. Bell pursed her lips but said nothing of what she'd like to say. Instead she offered him the juice and before he could refuse it she informed him that if he wasn't going to eat then he had to at least drink, or Laura had threatened to come in and help him.  
  
His eyes widened at the implication and with great annoyance he propped himself up on his elbows and took the glass from her. Draining it dry before handing it back to her.  
  
"There now, that weren't so bad, was it?" She was glad to see that Sam had begun to tuck into his soup enthusiastically. "Well now I've got ta go sort out the laundry, it's wash day an I don't reckon anyone's remembered and Mrs Fern will be here in under an hour. Sam when I come back I want ta see that bowl empty, and Mr Merry, if you change yer mind I've made plenty. I'll be just down the hall if ye need anything"  
  
And with that said she was gone, bundling up a few garments that were piled on a chair in the room (that also needed washing) as she went. When Sam was sure she was out of earshot he carefully placed the bowl on his side table, threw back his covers and padded silently over to where Merry lay. He stood still, suddenly unsure of himself. Merry turned to face him and shifted over patting the bed as he did. Sam hopped up as Merry sat up and put his back to the window.  
  
"Please sir, tell me what's wrong. Has something happened?" Sam paled, eyes becoming impossible wide "Mr Frodo?" He croaked.  
  
"No. No. Nothing like that Sam" Merry patted the young hobbits good arm and wondered if Sam would ever think about himself before others.  
  
"Then what sir?" Maybe it was the sincerity in Sam's voice or the fact that Merry's defences were low, but he found himself answering Sam before he'd even had time to choose his words.  
  
"Frodo was screaming earlier and it just reminded me of...." His eyes became like saucers as he realised what he was about to reveal. Thankfully Sam was still hung up on the 'Frodo was screaming' part to perceive the rest.  
  
"Why was Mr Frodo screaming sir?" His voice a strangled whisper as he nervously began to chew on the sheet corner at hand.  
  
"He still has fever Sam, your mother said he sometimes doesn't recognise people"  
  
"He'll recognise me!" Sam stuck out his chin in defiance, puffing out his chest and made to move off the bed.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you Sam, from what I can gather he's sleeping now and he needs the rest. And no, he wouldn't recognise you..." Merry's voice hitched "...he didn't even recognise me"  
  
Sam's ears pricked "When did you get to see him?" Then he remembered his manners and lamely added "Sir"  
  
"That first morning, after you fell asleep, he woke up...but not really. He didn't really understand it was me standing there, he recognised Bilbo briefly, but even that was muddled." He certainly wasn't going to tell Sam about the vase business, or he may as well fill in the hole himself, for Sam would surely blame himself for that too.  
  
Sam frowned and was about to ask another question, (the one Merry was dreading) when he felt Merry slump into his side. Their heads banged and Sam was a little too stunned to react at first. But as he felt Merry trying in vain to lift his head off of Sam's shoulder he came back to himself and quickly helped to lower the confused hobbit back onto his pillow. Merry's eyes were blinking too rapidly, as if, like his head, the lids had become too heavy to stay up.  
  
"Sam...What's happening?" He asked as he realised he was loosing the battle. He felt strangely detached, when he spoke it sounded strange, as if it were not his voice at all.  
  
"I don't know sir, I don't know. I'll be back before you know I'm gone, I'll get Ma!" And with that he tore off with renewed strength towards the kitchen.  
  
"Samwise Gamgee! Just what do ye think yer doing out ta bed and runnin around Bag-End in naught but a shirt?" Shouted Bell, hands on hips as she returned from the laundry-room, but upon seeing her sons face she allowed him to pull her down the corridor and to Merry's bedside.  
  
She sat down on the side of Merry's bed and observed the Brandybuck's struggles. His face wore a determined look, jaw clenched in concentration, as his eyes fluttered continuously like butterflies; he was plainly fighting the effects of the herbs. Bell sighed and asked Sam to get back into his bed and that she would explain everything to him in a minute. He hesitated for a moment, but was comforted by his mother's lack of concern and complied.  
  
Merry's nostrils flared and his hands clenched the bed sheets, turning the knuckles white with the effort to fight whatever was effecting him so, but Bells finger's combed through his hair repeatedly as she pulled the covers back into place and told him not to fight it. She lightly stroked her thumb over his eyebrow, as she had observed his uncle do several nights ago when he had been having a bad dream, pleased that it's calming effect on him was not limited to only his uncles touch. He was still fighting even when his lids finally won and came to rest upon his cheekbones. Just before he lost altogether, understanding dawned on him. He had been drugged, the juice! It must have been the same one that they were giving to Sam, he felt anger rise in him, but it died as he sank into blissful nothingness.  
  
Bell continued to stroke through Merry's curls. As she watched him grow still, she reached over and pulled the heavy drape across, shutting out the night's sky. When she turned back, his breathing had grown deep and steady and his face finally looked peaceful.  
  
It had only been three days since the accident and their colds had almost cleared up, Bell mused. Aside from the odd sniffle that dogged Sam at nighttimes and Merry's continued weakness in his legs. Bell instructed her son to finish his food and took the opportunity to explain what had happened to Merry. Sam listened in silence, as he finished his soup and gladly gulped down the rest of his juice; a sudden thought occurred to him as his mother lightly bathed his wrist.  
  
"Ma?"  
  
"Yes Love?"  
  
He yawned twice before he could continue and absentmindedly rubbed at his eyes. "You wouldn't do that ta me would you?"  
  
"What's that dear?" Bell feigned ignorance as she carefully dried his wrist and began to lightly rub some salve over it.  
  
As Bell finished the binding another wave of yawns assailed Sam and he found his mother gently coaxing him back into the deliciously soft feather pillow. He rubbed his itchy nose as she tucked him in, "You wouldn't give me anythin like Mr Merry, would you Ma?"  
  
"You look tired dear, get some rest" He smiled sleepily up at her as she leaned over him and planted a kiss on his brow, stroked his cheek until he drifted off.  
  
She shook her head at her son's unquestionable innocence and tutted herself *Laura's a bad influence on me, that she is! *  
  
Tbc ~ 


	16. Walkabout

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TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it lead to disaster?  
  
NOTES: Hello everyone! I must first apologise for the long delay in this chapter. As a few of you know I am in the late process of moving from Britain to Ireland and things are a little mad at the mo. In three weeks or less I'll be on the move and this mayhem that is my life has meant that my writing has taken a bit of a backseat recently. Not to worry! I have been working on my next fic, which is the long awaited Merry follow-up. "Silence" will be with you shortly.  
  
STORY WATCH: There are so many brilliant stories that have popped up not to mention updates of my fav's that I shall just have to list them I'm afraid. But they are all well worth a read and are of stunning quality!!!  
  
Llinos has updated 'Recaptured' several times and it's good, real good. Infact: 'YOU HAVE TO READ IT TO BELIEVE IT!'  
  
Rachelstonebreaker has updated and completed her stunning 'The Pub Series - Story 1 - Politics' such depth!  
  
LilyBaggins has created some new delights in 'Mathom' and updated 'The Pine- Woods Excursion'.  
  
Frisky has updated her series 'Hopeless Life' a number of times.  
  
Melodysongsinger has added another chapter to 'Only the Very Best'.  
  
Xenobia has completed her truly BRILLIANT series: 'For the Love of a Took' and 'Cloudburst'.  
  
Baylor has produced another truly stunning piece; it's a direct follow-on from 'Handkerchiefs and Mushroom Soup' and is called 'I Always Know You'. It is breathtaking!  
  
Rufferto has updated the wonderful 'SILENT DESIRES' and for all those out there who haven't read it yet. Why?  
  
Baranduin has created a truly addictive piece of writing in 'A Ranger's Desire--To Protect'. Definitely one for all those Frodo lovers out there.  
  
Claudia has produced a piece of work that is so good...well. Any of you remember 'that' scene from "Harry met Sally"? It's THAT good! 'Trapped in Bree'.  
  
BellaMonte has produced a beautiful Shire based tale of the highest quality. I'm well and truly hooked and I guarantee that if you love the hobbit younger years, you will be too. 'Treasures'.  
  
Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, has created 'Rain' over at 'Nindaiwe' and it is really, really good!  
  
Kookaburra has created one of the best pieces of...well hell it's got everything in it. (NC-17) But I do recommend it as a great read if you enjoy your fic's dark 'Moria's Revenge' (Co- author Llinos).  
  
Mea has created 'The Conspiracy', which I personally have spent most of the morning drooling over again. It's another hobbit fic, and a damn good one!  
  
Neon Star has written a shire tale: 'A Piece of My Heart' is centred on Frodo and Sam.  
  
Talisha Hibdon has created a NOVEL based on the Frodo returns theme. This is really something special and I advise all to read. It is hard, gritty and grounded and poor Frodo's having a hard time fitting back into shire life. 'Dream With Hope' can be found at: Of_Rings_and_Hobbits@yahoogroups.com (numbers you need to type to bring up each chapter are as follow:  
  
Chap 1: 102 Chap 2: 118 Chap 3: 128 Chap 4: 137 Chap 5: 211 Chap 6: 217 Chap 7: 261 Chap 8: 296 Chap 9: 402 Chap 10: 543  
  
Hope has written another beautiful stand on it's own piece called: 'A Familiar Song'.  
  
And I think I'll have to put my other recommendations on the next posting!  
  
Brandywine  
  
  
  
Chapter 16: Walkabouts  
  
  
  
"It's not true!"  
  
Bilbo awoke from the light exhaustive sleep he had unwittingly fallen into. He turned blurry eyes to the pale, glistening form on the bed and waited until his vision cleared. After several tense moments of observing his young nephew's face he sighed. It must have been his imagination playing a cruel trick on him.  
  
In Frodo's fevered mind he found himself assailed by harsh words and half- truths from some of the less friendly inhabitants of Hobbiton.  
  
*Baggins is his name, but he's more than half a Brandybuck! *  
  
Frodo whimpered. "I don't under-understand. What's so wrong with being Bran- Brandybuck?"  
  
At this Bilbo sat bolt upright and scanned Frodo's face for any sign that he might be waking. No. As he pressed the back of his hand to his brow it revealed the fever still raged. Laura had warned it would be so for a day or two to come. Yet it was still disappointing.  
  
Ted Sandyman's gruff, sarcastic voice intoned. *I heard she pushed him in, and he pulled her in after*  
  
"You're lying!" Frodo shouted.  
  
Bilbo winced. Bag End was silent and Frodo's voice was surprisingly shrill. He recovered the compress from the bedside and dampened it in a fresh bowl of cool water. Brushing back some of the lank curls, he placed the cloth on Frodo's brow and was relieved to see him lean into his uncle's hand.  
  
Frodo's face looked troubled. Bilbo had an idea of what he spoke. It was common knowledge that Lobelia was outraged when Bilbo brought Frodo to live with him at Bag End. She had wasted no time in putting a slur on Frodo's good character at every opportunity. Thankfully most folk of Hobbiton were of a sensible breed, and knew enough of the Sackville-Bagginses to know gossip from their quarter was more than likely tainted. But there would always be the odd few, and Bilbo had heard such muck with his own ears often enough to know that at some point it would, unfortunately, reach Frodo.  
  
"Frodo?" Bilbo kept his voice low and warm. He had an idea that just might work if Frodo was receptive enough.  
  
"Frodo my boy. Can you hear me?"  
  
Frodo's brow furrowed and he gave a soft moan.  
  
"Answer me!" Bilbo insisted, putting a little more authority into his tone.  
  
"Uncle?" Frodo whispered.  
  
Bilbo grinned so hard his face ached; that one word he had taken for granted and was so dearly missed made his heart soar. He leant forward and grasped the young hobbit's soft, clammy hand and patted it reassuringly.  
  
"Tell me what they're saying."  
  
Frodo's face contorted with the effort of the request and it soon became obvious that he either couldn't understand or didn't want to answer. Bilbo suspected a little of both. But he was not about to give up just yet, he knew Frodo would probably be aghast when he discovered how his uncle had come by this information, but he would deal with that bridge when it needed crossing. Right now he was the adult and he would not pass up such an opportunity.  
  
"What are they saying to you? Repeat it to me, if you can."  
  
Bilbo was convinced Frodo had drifted back off to sleep when Frodo's abused voice began to brokenly relay information. It flowed freely, although, somewhat jumbled in places as his mind jumped from memory to memory in no particular order. But it was clear enough.  
  
As the boy continued his anguished ramblings Bilbo was appalled to discover that Lobelia herself had taken great pleasure in confronting Frodo on a number of occasions. Each encounter had added more silent scarring to the already damaged child, yet not once had he mentioned any of these confrontations to Bilbo.  
  
He was furious with Lobelia and strove to understand why Frodo would keep this sort of thing to himself. He had always known that Frodo liked to handle his own problems and for that Bilbo held great respect. But there was only so much that a tween (well barely a tween at that) could endure against the kind of torrent that was being relayed to him at that moment.  
  
And the language used! He knew that Lobelia had a foul mouth at times but that these words were directed at his beloved young cousin was too much. Frodo should never have even heard them let alone have them directed at him. But that was not the end of it. Frodo went on to speak of his parents and what he had overheard at The Ivy Bush one evening when his friend Fatty had dragged him along (Frodo and Fatty are old enough by hobbit standards to frequent pubs if they so choose). To hear one's parents spoken of that way and under those circumstances was truly awful.  
  
Guilt seeped into Bilbo's thoughts as, thankfully, Frodo grew silent and stilled, falling back into sleep as best the fever would allow. He had no idea that Frodo was enduring so much pain just by being his heir and living in Hobbiton.  
  
*Was I selfish to bring him here after all this time? Would it have been kinder to leave things as they were, where he was somewhat settled?*  
  
He banished all such thoughts in the next instance when he remembered how overlooked the young boy was there. By the Shire, it had taken six hours before anyone had noticed that he had not attended dinner the last time he had visited at Brandy Hall. It wasn't that his relations were cruel, although there were one or two who positively hated children and made it known. No, it was just that there were so many children living in the Halls that to keep track of them all was nigh on impossible. Frodo was simply swept away in the crowd.  
  
However in the short space of time that Frodo had been living in Hobbiton, his education and language skills had improved tenfold. He was always one for books; Bilbo discovered and fed that part of Frodo that hungered for knowledge of history, language and mythology, which would otherwise have been neglected. His grasp of Elvish was impressive for one so young and Bilbo was careful not to push him too hard, allowing him to find his own pace.  
  
A dreamy sigh from the bed brought Bilbo back to the present. On Frodo's face a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It had not been seen in days and brought great relief to Bilbo as he continued to stroke his nephew's slender, delicate hand. It always amused Bilbo that locked behind that sweet face was knowledge far beyond his years, yet he was never outspoken. Only on request (usually from Sam or Merry) would he tell a tale of old or speak Elvish. He himself had caught Sam reciting Elvish in the garden on more than one occasion when he thought no one was in earshot. Bilbo had no doubts as to who his teacher was.  
  
He chuckled. Sam and Frodo were as close as two friends could be, and for that Bilbo was grateful. They had managed to do what most others could not. Look past their very different social standings as they grew and became more aware of their place. Sam ensured that Frodo attended at least a handful of the social events in the Shire that Frodo would normally shy away from. They were good together, they had a very strong bond that Bilbo had never had with anyone himself. He didn't understand it, but accepted it all the same.  
  
Tomorrow, if Frodo was a little more rested he would bring Sam and Merry to see him. It would do the three of them good; Bilbo had been keeping informed of Merry and Sam's progress via Laura. Yes, tomorrow he should be well enough to receive visitors.  
  
****  
  
On the fifth morning of Bilbo's vigil at Frodo's bedside, Frodo woke up. It was a little after two in the morning. Several candles had been placed on the mantelpiece opposite the foot of his bed, and their soft flickering glow was enough to dimly illuminate his room.  
  
"Aawwwww! My head!" He moaned softly as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, using his headboard for added support. Gasping in shock at the harsh sound of his own voice. Its usual harmonic light tones were hidden now beneath layers of rumbling thunder and burning fire. He soon realised to speak was very painful and made a mental note to avoid doing so for the time being.  
  
A wave of weakness washed through his body at that moment, forcing him to freeze, slightly hunched over with his head pressed into his hands until it passed. He expelled the breath he was holding and allowed his hands to slide through his hair, grimacing at its damp, oily texture. His face felt hot, even to him, and he knew that he must have been quite ill judging by the number of assorted phials he could see on his bedside table, not to mention the heavy scent of lavender that seemed to be not only in the air but rising from his chest as well.  
  
Frodo froze as he felt a movement and heard a soft snore reach his ears. Looking down to his right he couldn't help but smile fondly as he recognised the mad tangle of coarse greying curls. Bilbo was sound asleep, head pillowed on his folded arms, satin shirt crumpled to the extreme, no weskit and braces dangling carelessly at his sides. Frodo frowned as he observed even in the poor light his uncle's haggard appearance. He reached over and with more effort than the gesture should have taken, retrieved one of the soft blankets that had been piled on his left set of bookshelves. He draped it as best he could around his uncle's shoulders before lightly kissing him on the brow.  
  
He had no idea why his body ached as badly as it did, his legs felt tight- skinned, achy and unstable. His chest felt heavier than it aught, but despite everything else, one urge seized him above all his other discomforts... he needed to use the bathroom. Now!  
  
As silently as he could, he slipped from the bed and placed both feet firmly on the floor. It felt cold and soothing as the slate quickly drew the warmth from the pads of his feet. It was wonderfully refreshing and gave Frodo the confidence he needed to push away from the bed. He stood, swaying from side-to-side until his sense of balance returned and his blood had time get used to his upright position after his extended bed rest.  
  
Using the furniture in the room for additional support he shakily made his way across his shadowed room and out into the darker corridor. Stumbling a few times before his eyes adjusted to the new darkness and finally made it to the bathroom.  
  
Having to sit on the toilet instead of standing was both embarrassing and annoying to Frodo but as he finished and silently closed the door behind him his stomach grumbled loudly. Now that his attention had been drawn to it, he found that he was rather hungry. No. He was starving hungry and before he knew that he was moving again he found his feet taking him to the kitchen.  
  
*****  
  
Something wasn't right. Rising through the depths of much needed sleep Bilbo Baggins awoke with an inexplicable feeling of unease. He sighed loudly and rubbed his face in his hands in an effort to wake fully. His neck cracked as a reminded to him that despite being graced with the good, long lived blood of his ancestors, he was definitely too old to be sleeping in chairs, especially in that position. He rubbed his neck purposefully and stretched the kink from his spine before checking on his nephew.  
  
When Bilbo's eyes fell on the empty bed his blood chilled and any remnants of sleep fell away abruptly. He shot to his feet and patted the bedding where Frodo should be, not believing his eyes.  
  
"Frodo?" He whispered in disbelief as he broke into a cold sweat.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Frodo!" He searched all round the bed in case, in his fevered dreams the poor lad had slipped from the bed. But there was no sign of him, nor was he to be found anywhere else in the room. Now on the edge of full-blown panic Bilbo raced into the corridor pausing only long enough to snatch up a candle and continue his search. It wasn't very long before his attention was drawn to the kitchen. Small muffled noises reached his ears, as if someone was trying to lift something extremely heavy. Eyes focused only on the archway to the kitchen he moved swiftly observing that indeed someone was up and about as the soft glow of several lit lanterns spilled into the corridor's end.  
  
What met his eyes as he entered the kitchen almost made him weep. There, dressed in only a long, thin cotton nightshirt and grunting softly under the supreme effort of trying to hook the now water filled kettle back in place, stood Frodo.  
  
He didn't notice his uncle enter the kitchen he was so wrapped up in his effort to make himself some tea that nothing else seemed to exist anymore, except the object of his futile efforts. *This is madness, it should not be this heavy! *  
  
"Come on damn you!" He cursed in frustration, even as he resigned himself to the fact that he was not going to get the cup of tea he so desperately craved.  
  
He allowed the kettle to clatter back to the stoves surface and rest there while he wiped some of the newly formed sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, blowing the maddening curls from his eyes a second later.  
  
"Frodo?"  
  
He startled badly, almost loosing his footing as he spun in the direction of the voice. There in the shadowed archway stood his Uncle and before Frodo could respond, his Uncle had closed the distance between them with frightening speed and gathered him up in a strong embrace.  
  
Frodo giggled in surprise as he felt himself lifted completely off the floor as Bilbo heaved the tweenager up so that he now sat completely on Bilbo's arm, his other hand locked around Frodo's head pressing it into his shoulder as he murmured words that Frodo couldn't catch.  
  
It had been so many years since someone had held him thus. Another person, another life, he had forgotten just how much he needed it and how good it felt. It was only after the fierce embrace ended that Frodo saw tears glisten on Bilbo's cheeks as he guided himself and Frodo onto one of the kitchen chairs, Frodo sitting across his lap as if he were twelve once more.  
  
Frodo soon picked up on the fact that Bilbo seemed reluctant to let him go and so settled into his lap allowing the comforting, protective feel of Bilbo's arms around his slender body to wash over him. He reached up and brushed away new tears that were making their way down his uncle's face.  
  
Smiling he said, in as clear a voice as he could muster. "It's all right Uncle, I'm here." But to his dismay this seemed to make the flow worsen as Bilbo fumbled one-handedly searching for his elusive handkerchief.  
  
"Bilbo. What's wrong?"  
  
Bilbo laughed then, it sounded strange as if it were not entirely happy. Scared maybe? Frodo didn't have long to ponder it as Bilbo composed himself enough to finally speak.  
  
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong now that you're awake my boy," and hugged him again to reassure himself that this was not some cruel dream. Satisfied eventually that it was not, he sat back and looked Frodo over carefully, he was still flushed and too warm to the touch. His face took on a sterner expression as worry clouded his joy. "Now just what do you think you are doing out of bed? Huuum?"  
  
Frodo grinned sheepishly and nodded towards the kettle. He was still trying to keep his speaking to a minimum, but the pain was worth it to see the twinkle return to Bilbo's eyes. "I needed to use the bathroom and..." He paused despite his best efforts and sucked in as much air as his aching chest and burning throat would allow without coughing. "...I got hungry and thirsty," he finished.  
  
Bilbo frowned at the effort it took Frodo to speak and then remembered how hard he had found it to lift the kettle, a nothing weight. It spoke volumes to the old hobbit. His worried gaze softened as he stared into those beautiful, loving, clear blue eyes and melted.  
  
"All right lad, no harm done. But you should have woken me and I would have prepared something for you, and there is a bedpan in your room. It's not there for decoration!" he joked, as Frodo turned red and looked away. "Come on now, there's no need for that. I understand using such a thing is a little embarrassing...but we have all been that ill at some point in our lives that they become necessary. I will not have you exhausting yourself like this just to save your dignity or pride. You know what they say happens to those who have too much pride?"  
  
"Yes Uncle. I'm sorry...I didn't, I still don't..." his voice was starting to crack again and swallowing alone was not enough to calm it.  
  
"Understand?" Bilbo offered, feeling awful for scolding him.  
  
Bilbo sighed and gently transferred him to the chair then scuttled out of the room, returning moments later with a night robe and a quilted blanket. As Frodo sat back more comfortably in the chair, now dressed in the robe and wrapped in the soft quilt, he listened as Bilbo filled him in on the missing days whilst he set about boiling water and reheating some of Mrs Gamgee's Broth.  
  
"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked as he poured boiling water into the teapot, careful not to swamp the thin metal leaf strainer. He then proceeded to pour two cups of tea, one with cream and sugar and one with a small amount of milk only. He set the darker brew in front of Frodo and then went to check on the broth.  
  
Frodo furrowed his brow in concentration, finding it nice to be able to think again. It seemed as if it had been a long time since things had been this clear. "I remember apple picking... rain." His memories were more elusive after that. "...I remember water and being very cold." Suddenly a vision of his beloved mother came flooding back to him and his promise to her.  
  
"Frodo-lad don't take on so!" Bilbo's panicked voice penetrated the haze and he realised that he was breathing too fast and that it had been a long time since he had last spoken. He blinked to discover his Uncle kneeling before him; an anxious look upon his face and the back of his hand lay against Frodo's brow.  
  
Frodo forced a small smile and pushed Bilbo's hand away. "I'm all right Uncle" but the effect was spoilt as a rattling cough cut his speech short.  
  
Bilbo rubbed his back in firm circles; mindful of the tender areas and together they rode out the fit. When Frodo had settled enough, Bilbo scooted back a touch and ran his critical eye over him. Frodo squirmed under his gaze as Bilbo's eyes moved deliberately slowly, taking in and processing every detail. The flushed face, more so now after the coughing, the permanent sheen of sweat across his brow and upper lip, and the way his hands shook slightly in his lap.  
  
"You're not all right, of that much I am certain" He pushed the bowl of broth towards Frodo and instructed him to eat as much as he could. To the old hobbit's complete surprise Frodo not only finished that bowl of broth, but also a second as well as a small glass of cold orange juice and three cups of tea. With a satisfied sigh followed by a huge jaw-cracking yawn Frodo pushed the empty bowl away and leaned back in the chair allowing his eyes to rest momentarily.  
  
Bilbo chuckled as he watched his nephew struggle to stay awake. He was so pleased that Frodo's appetite had returned and that he had been able to keep the food down (which he had fretted over as Frodo demolished the second helping). He grinned as Frodo lost the battle and a soft buzzing sound signalled his defeat. Gently, ever so gently he carried him back to his room and unwrapping him, placing him back in bed and tucked him in. As he settled himself back into his chair he noted the soft snore had ceased and a light smile formed on Frodo's lips.  
  
"Uncle?" He whispered.  
  
"Yes lad, is there anything you want?"  
  
"No... I have everything I need." His smile broadened and Bilbo could hear a laugh to his broken tones as Frodo's hand sought his and clasped it firmly.  
  
"Uncle?" He asked, but his voice was becoming distant as sleep pulled at him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I love you" Frodo was asleep before he could hear the reply, the smile never completely leaving his mouth.  
  
Bilbo looked down upon this child that was so dear to him and felt fit to burst with the number of emotions that he couldn't distinguish inside himself. He contented himself with stroking the back of Frodo's hand with a snippet of satin and grinned at the deep sigh it produced.  
  
Frodo would be well, of that he was now certain. He had been given the greatest honour in life he could have hoped for; he was bringing up one of the strongest and gentlest souls in the entire Shire. And he blessed Primula and Drogo for their gift, for of all their many hundreds of relations, Bilbo was their first choice of guardian. A kindness and trust he would never be able to repay, but he would see that Frodo never wanted for anything again.  
  
****  
  
Merry awoke the next morning to a raging hunger that he could not explain, nor could he remember sleeping so soundly for a long time. He didn't remember his dreams, but that was not a bad thing, at least they weren't nightmares. He groggily pulled himself up and was rewarded with the beaming face of Mrs Gamgee walking briskly towards him carrying a tray of cooked food. She placed it on the side and helped him to readjust the pillows behind his back before wishing him a cheery 'Good morning'.  
  
He scratched at the sleep dust still in his eyes and smiled up at her wishing her the same as she sat the full breakfast tray in his lap and with a wink informed him that if there was anything else he wanted just ask, and there was plenty more where that came from.  
  
He tucked in ravenously and only after clearing two thirds of his dish did he look over to see Sam awake and reading one of Frodo's books... something Elvish, translated into the common tongue by the looks of it.  
  
Sam felt the weight of Merry's eyes on him and looked up, grinning he closed the book and looked to the door before sliding from the bed and perching on the side of Merry's. It was only then that Merry realised Sam was fully dressed: in a plain cream cotton homemade shirt and deep brown woollen breeches. He could see evidence of mending at the knees but politely pulled his gaze back to Sam's face; too late it seemed to avoid being caught however. Something flickered across Sam's deep hazel browns and his smile faltered for a second before it was washed away and Merry was left to wonder if he had seen it at all.  
  
"Good morning Mr Merry!" He chirped, literally bouncing on the spot. "How are you feelin' today?"  
  
Merry found Sam's good nature infectious for he found himself smiling before be realised it. "Very well thank you, Sam. What's going on? You seem fit to burst! Oh please don't bounce so, unless you want to see this breakfast of mine again," he laughed.  
  
Sam immediately stilled and apologised even as Merry waved off its necessity. "Well I've got good reason sir. Mr Bilbo came in earlier this morn and told me that Mr Frodo woke up last night!"  
  
He watched as Merry smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes at the mention of his cousin. He quickly thought back over what he had just said to try and understand Merry's reaction to such good news and then remembered being told about Frodo's waking confusion. "Oh no! Not like that Sir! I mean awake, awake!" He grinned as Merry's face brightened and he sat up straighter.  
  
"Was he all right? Did he say anything? Tell me!" He bubbled.  
  
Sam chuckled as he recalled Bilbo's fond mutterings about 'that boy' and the kitchen incident. "Oh aye, he's done more than talking. Mr Bilbo caught him in the kitchen making tea would you believe!"  
  
Merry's face warred between shock and amusement before he burst into uncontrollable laughter and tears rolled down his cheeks as Sam joined him. "He did what? Oh that's precious, I bet Uncle nearly had kittens!"  
  
Sam nodded as he wiped away a tear. "The best part's not been said yet! Later when you're dressed an' all we're both allowed to see him." He paused with a frown before continuing "But I think he's asleep right now, he's still got a bit of a fever but nothing like before. Miss Goodbody's been humming tunes all morning she's so pleased and Ma said that he even managed some more food earlier and was laughing and joking with her when she came in to help change the linens."  
  
"Oh Sam that is wonderful news. I can hardly wait to see him," then in a slightly quieter voice added, "I've missed him terribly".  
  
"Well as my Sam said he's sleepin' right now Mr Merry so I'm afraid ye'll have ta wait a little longer." Bell Gamgee laughed as the two youngsters startled. Her eyes sparkled as she observed Merry was still unconsciously picking at the remainder of his food. "Awww now none a' that, he needs his rest an' ye still need ta have yer bath and get dressed yet Sir."  
  
Merry scrunched up his face at the mention of yet another bath. He was never an unhygienic hobbit but this was getting a bit much, every morning and evening, still at least he no longer had to have Hamfast accompany him.  
  
His legs had lost their ache and regained their earlier strength, but he did still feel very drained and it must have finally caught up with him he mused, to fall asleep like that. One minute he had been talking with Sam and the next, it was morning. How embarrassing, he wondered if Sam thought him terribly rude for falling asleep in the middle of a conversation, but brushed it off and instead opted to devour his cooling breakfast as fast as possible and have his bath. The sooner he was in, the sooner he could get out he reasoned.  
  
****  
  
"Shuuuu!"  
  
"Shush yourself"  
  
"Well meaning no disrespect but..."  
  
"Saaaam!"  
  
"...not supposed to be in..."  
  
Frodo awoke to the sounds of a hushed argument in full swing between his dear cousin and...and Sam? It surprised him no end to hear Sam politely give as good as he got from his quick-tongued cousin. But then, Frodo realised that where he or his uncle were concerned Sam had never been shy about defending either of them. It warmed his heart and he allowed himself a small smile as he heard the air whistle angrily through Sam's front teeth, a sure sign that he was trying his hardest not to loose his temper. A rare occurrence but not unknown to Frodo.  
  
He ventured a quick peek as he heard the scrapping of a chair followed by Sam's light-footed approach, scolding Merry for dragging said chair instead of lifting it. From his prone position he opened one eye enough to see a very red-faced Sam eyeing his cousin and shaking his head as Merry tried to lift the old rocker into a position next to the bed. When Sam sighed and turned back to Frodo, Frodo had already closed his eye and lay still.  
  
"Oh botheration!"  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing. I need to use the bathroom; I'll be back in a minute. Whatever you do, don't let Uncle or Miss Goodbody catch you in here," and with that said he quickly retreated from the room.  
  
"It's me Ma I'd be worried about if I were you Sir," he whispered to the empty doorway allowing himself a small chuckle at the image.  
  
Sam soon turned his attention back to his master. He did look a lot better than the last time he'd been able to see him, almost a week ago now. He had missed his dear face terribly and was glad to see him at peace and breathing much more easily.  
  
"Well Sir you didn't half give your Sam a scare!" He chided "But at least you don't seem in pain anymore" He looked to the empty doorway making sure he was alone before he reached out and allowed his hand to trail gently in Frodo's damp curls, marvelling that even after such sickness they still slid through his fingers with ease. He brushed the dark locks back and lightly traced the curve of Frodo's perfectly formed pointy ear and down to his smooth jaw where he allowed his hand to rest gently in revelry at that which he feared he had lost.  
  
He felt a small shudder pass through Frodo and quickly withdrew his hand lest his master wake to discover his gardener pawing at him in a most inappropriate manner. "I'm so sorry. It's my stupid, clumsy fault you got hurt, if I'd been more mindful of were I was treading then you and Mr Merry wouldn't have got hurt." He scrunched his eyes tightly shut and laced his strong calloused hand in Frodo's. "I'm sorry," he whispered.  
  
Frodo who was still reeling from Sam's golden touch, which made his whole body respond wantonly, could stand the pretence no longer. Sam's self loathing was breaking his heart as he felt the unmistakable wetness of tears against his held hand. He opened his eyes to see Sam quickly dab their evidence away with his handkerchief and continue to stare at the hand he held.  
  
"Sam!"  
  
That one word held so much emotion and was barely above a whisper so choked was Frodo with his own emotions that he was unsure whether he had spoken it or only thought it. He closed his eyes and waited out the maelstrom that threatened to overwhelm him. When he felt the warning, prickly at the back of his eyes, dissipate only then did he allow himself a second view of his distraught friend.  
  
Sam was sat in absolute silence, startled ridged and open-mouthed as if he'd just broken a second vase and wasn't sure what to do about it. His mouth worked but no sound was made and he clutched Frodo's hand a little more tightly, almost desperately.  
  
Frodo smiled up at him and gave his hand a squeeze back. "Hello Sam, I've missed you."  
  
It was too much for the younger hobbit who burst into silent sobs as Frodo rose to a sitting position and drew him in for a warm embrace. This was the second person that had cried on him in less than a day! Frodo rocked him gently and soothed him until he felt the tremors stop and his death grip loosen. When he pulled back Sam was red-faced and apologetic, trying desperately to straighten his clothes and not look Frodo in the eye.  
  
Frodo raised his chin so that Sam was forced to look at him. Sam's gaze locked on Frodo's and he gave an audible gasp as he realised that Frodo had unshed tears pooled in his own eyes but a gentle smile played on his lips.  
  
"There is nothing! And I repeat nothing! Any of us could have or would have done differently that day, Samwise. None of it was anyone's fault, least of all yours and there is nothing to be sorry for. Understand?" Despite the slight gruffness that still hampered his voice he tried to make it as steady as possible to get the message across.  
  
Sam was silent, allowing Frodo's word to sink in and not allow himself to be distracted by the flutter in his stomach as Frodo's eyes revealed his love and concern for the young gardener in his grasp. The moment was broken as Sam heard Merry moving towards the door with what he claimed was a light foot. *Light foot indeed* he mused and pulled reluctantly out of Frodo's grasp still holding his gaze. He smiled then and gave a small nod.  
  
"Thank you Sir, that means a lot to me." He wanted to say more, but it was not his place and despite what he thought he saw in Frodo's eyes he was still unsure and for all of Middle-earth he would do nothing to make Frodo unhappy. His master, he decided, should always be happy and he vowed he would do everything within his power to ensure that happened.  
  
Frodo watched Sam's face as he slipped from his grasp and allowed his arm to fall back to the bedcovers. It seemed as if a heavy weight had been lifted from Sam's broad shoulders but to Frodo's dismay his eyes remained closed. He took the chance that his instincts were right "As you mean to me, Sam," he whispered.  
  
It was loud enough to reach Sam's sharp ears and he grinned foolishly and looked about ready to say something when an excited squeal from across the room broke the spell and alerted the pair of Merry's arrival.  
  
"Cousin! You're awake! But it's been so long I'd almost forgotten what you looked like." He joked as he took his place the opposite side of the bed and gave Sam a knowing look. The gardener flushed crimson and began to fuss over Frodo's bedding, checking that he had enough liquids in reach should he need them.  
  
Frodo hugged his young cousin and as he observed Sam's flustered doings, guessed the reason and gave Merry a swat to the rump as the embrace broke. Silently scolding him with a glare and telling Sam to relax as for the first time he observed Sam's bandaged wrist now held tight against his chest as he poured water from the pitcher and set the glass down closer to Frodo.  
  
"And just what do ye think yer about Samwise Gamgee!" Bell's voice boomed as she stood, hands on hips blocking the doorway. "I turn my back just long enough ta make second breakfast and yer gone! And don't think I haven't seen ye there either Mr Merry."  
  
Bell scowled at her son's blatant disobedience and then turned her gaze to the real culprit. Sweet darling that he was she had to remind herself that he was still a Brandybuck!  
  
Merry gave her his most innocent face and unconsciously moved closer to his cousin who couldn't help a snigger at his cousin's reaction. Just what had been going on while he was ill? Much he was sure.  
  
"It's all right Mrs Gamgee I was awake anyway and I could use the company."  
  
"Well. If ye say so Sir, but it's time for yer medicine and Miss Goodbody will be along shortly to massage ye again."  
  
"Massage?" Merry and Sam chorused staring at him wide-eyed.  
  
Frodo blushed as he quickly drank down the vile concoction Bell handed him and groaned loudly. "That's no massage, its torture!" He whinged. "Surely there is another way?" he pleaded.  
  
Laura entered Frodo's room and was surprised to find it full of hobbits when she had left specific instruction that the young master needed his rest. "No Mr Frodo there isn't," she chuckled as Frodo unconsciously retreated closer to Sam who stood and stared at her, allowing Frodo to lean into him.  
  
"Now, now Sir, it's not for much longer, another three days at the most and I'll not have ta bother ye that way again."  
  
"Three days!"  
  
Laura set down the necessary oils and the dreaded bowl before turning stern eyes on him. "Now none of that! I don't think anyone's told ye yet but I'm tellin' ye now, you very near passed two nights ago and if I don't do this ye wont recover."  
  
"Laura!" Bell cried in dismay as she saw Merry's face drain of colour and Sam's chin tremble.  
  
Sam, despite his mother's disapproving glare clutched Frodo to himself more securely, but Frodo just stared at her blankly. He thought of his mother and his promise to her again. He looked to the shocked and fearful face of his cousin and felt the tension sing through Sam as his arm tightened around him. Then he remembered his Uncle's fierce embrace when he found him in the kitchen *Poor Uncle Bilbo, how terrible this has all been for you.*  
  
He smiled at her and allowed himself to relax back against the headboard and touched his hand to Merry's shoulder. Merry startled and turned impossibly wide eyes on him, genuine fear swam in their grey depths but the rest of his face remained a blank canvas.  
  
*I wonder who taught him that?* He mused; it was unlike Merry to show such restraint especially in front of Frodo.  
  
"I'll be all right Merry there's nothing to fear. It takes more than this illness to get rid of me!" He winked at him glad to see Merry relax a little, then turned to Sam, who was as rattled as Merry. "You're both stuck with me I'm afraid."  
  
The tension dissolved slowly and Frodo asked Sam and Merry to leave promising he would speak with them again later. Laura wasn't so sure about the 'later' part, knowing how draining this procedure was on Frodo but she remained silent. When they had left and only Laura and Mrs Gamgee remained Frodo turned to Laura, he seemed to be quietly seething. She winced as his large, sparkling blue eyes held hers; he opened his mouth and then closed it. It took three attempts before he was able to speak without anger.  
  
"Miss Goodbody. I owe you, amongst others, my life...for which I am very grateful. But please do not speak of such things again in front of my 'young' cousin and Samwise, they have been through quite enough already."  
  
Laura realised that in allowing her own anger and exhaustion to get the better of her she had spoken out of turn. Though to be berated by a child barely into his tween's was highly embarrassing. Looking back on it now she realised that her outburst had been quite unnecessary. Bell was moving stiffly in the corner of the room; obviously uncomfortable and trying her hardest to do her job and leave.  
  
"You're right, Sir" She said at length, "I'm sorry I was short with ye, it's just...ye had us all so worried an' I don't think I could face yer Uncle if I let anything happen to ye. Especially after such good progress." She stood stock-still waiting for the torrent to flow and was surprised when Frodo broke into a smile.  
  
"Apology accepted." He frowned as she came closer and he noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. He cleared his throat and waited patiently until Bell left with an arm full of laundry before voicing his thought "You need to get some sleep Miss Goodbo..."  
  
"Laura," she interrupted.  
  
"Laura then. You need sleep."  
  
She laughed, "I look that bad do I?"  
  
Frodo averted his eyes causing her to laugh harder. "It's just...I don't want you to make yourself ill on my account," he murmured.  
  
"Hey now! Who's the healer?"  
  
"Who's the patient?" He countered, before they both laughed hard until Frodo began to cough.  
  
Laura held his chest and rubbed his back until the racking cough left "Point taken Mr Frodo, now I'm afraid it's time, and no more of yer stallin'!"  
  
He groaned before allowing her to position him on his front over the end of the bed. Before she could begin he turned to her and said, "I wasn't just trying to stall you though, I meant what I said." Then grinned, "well maybe I was trying to delay you a little."  
  
She motioned for him to turn back round, marvelling at his manners, in spite of still having a slight fever. "Thank you Sir, it was nice of ye to care. Now I'm afraid this is going to hurt a bit, but as I said before it must be done."  
  
"I understand," He whispered. "Where is Uncle?"  
  
"He's asleep next-door. Do ye want me ta fetch him?"  
  
"No! No, it's not important. He needs a rest...I have never seen him look so old as he did last night."  
  
"Worry over a loved one will do that ta anyone sir, don't ye go frettin'. He'll bounce back I'm sure."  
  
With that said the torture commenced.  
  
Tbc~  
  
A huge "Thank you!" to Llinos *Big hug* you was kind enough to beta this chapter for me. 


	17. 'When all is said and done'

TITLE: "Brandywine"  
  
AUTHOR: Mainframe  
  
RATING: PG  
  
PAIRING: None so far  
  
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.  
  
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it lead to disaster?  
  
NOTES: A huge, huge thank you to Llinos for beta-ing these last two chapters and for taking the time to leave me some excellent feedback! I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Anglachel for pointing out my MANY mistakes and ways to improve them. I owe the two of you much, as my improvements are mainly due to both your much appreciated observations and feedback.  
  
STORY WATCH:  
  
JastaElf has updated 'Dark Leaf' and it is truly the most powerful chapter yet.  
  
Llinos has updated 'Recapture' some wonderful reading for all those Merry and Pippin fans! And big congratulations are in order as she has passed the 1000 review marker in flying colours. And very well deserved they are too! If you haven't started to read this epic yet...then you're in for a long haul.  
  
Xenobia as proved that ya just can't keep a great writer down, she's back and sports several NEW fic's at her new site: http://www.freewebs.com/ninthwave  
  
Daisy Gamgee was updated her beautiful Merry and Pippin romance novel 'The History of Us: Part 12' can be found at: http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=thousupport&itemid=22605#cut id1  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=thousupport&itemid=22469#cut id1  
  
Ice Princess has updated 'Ghost in the Night' MANY times and the tension is mounting definitely a fic for all those fellow hobbit fan's out there who love a challenge, for there are so many twists and turns in this plot line I now have no nails left to bit.  
  
Rufferto has created a new series 'Reflections in the Dark' and it's already got its hooks into me!  
  
Kookaburra and Llinos have updated 'Moria's Revenge' and I am issuing a tissue warning with this one, Pip's troubles are far from over!  
  
Lobelia Sackville-Baggins has updated the wonderful, the brilliant: "Rain, part 2" over at: Nindaiwe.  
  
Niphredil of Doriath has created 'Frodo And The Immaculate Conception' over at Nindaiwe. Now for those of you who know me, I don't tend to lean towards parodies...but this one has had me in hysteric's from start to finish. Hat off to the author, they really know how write humour!  
  
Melodysongsinger has updated 'Only the Very Best' several times, more hobbit angst!!!  
  
Dana-chan and Belle has written a very, very NC-17 fic called 'Darkness Calls' and if you like Frodo and nasty things happening to him, this is a fic for you!  
  
Anemone Frost has created the long awaited follow-on from 'The World We Lost' with 'Last Hour' oh boy is there a tissue warning I send to you with these two.  
  
Andraste has created 'Embers' and it's set just after Merry and Pippin return to the shire after escorting Frodo to the Grey Haven's. But how do they cope with their grief? Good reading!  
  
BellaMonta has got me chomping at the bit with her latest chapter of 'Treasures', poor little Frodo *Sniff, sniff*  
  
Diamond has created 'Of Hobbits and Men' I can hardly wait for the next chapter (hint, hint).  
  
And I don't think I could get away with mentioning anymore. Fear not this segment will continue in 'Silence' and chapter one of that is already complete, just needs a tweak here-and-there.  
  
  
  
Brandywine  
  
Chapter 17: 'When all is said and done'  
  
  
  
As Laura predicted Frodo was not up to having visitor's that day or the next, he had expended too much precious energy since awakening; his recovering body was easily exhausted.  
  
Bilbo came to see Frodo that evening when Laura informed him that the lad had overdone things. It petrified Bilbo to see severe fatigue once again cloud those big lapis depths robbed of recognition once more.  
  
It was a set back that Laura in truth had been expecting ever since she'd heard about Frodo's antics in the kitchen, though she hoped that he would be spared this relapse. His fever, which up until that point had been all but vanquished, had returned, though nowhere near it's former savagery.  
  
After a further two days of near continuous sleeping Frodo awakened feeling much more refreshed than he had the night before. But upon a quick conversation with Laura, was dismayed to discover that he had in actual fact lost two whole days since Sam and Merry's visit.  
  
"How is this possible?" He uttered in shock.  
  
"Well sir, it's not uncommon for someone who's been as sick as ye've been to sleep longer" She answered as she rearranged and fluffed his pillows and checked his temperature.  
  
"But two whole days! Sam and Merry must be beside themselves...to say nothing of Uncle." He said whilst settling his aching back gratefully into the pillow-nest she'd just made for him.  
  
"Yes ye did give them a bit of a fright, I had to let them in here ta see ye, the two of them refused food till I did! But once they saw ye were only sleeping and nothing worse they were all right. Here drink this, it'll help yer throat...how is that feeling now?"  
  
Frodo pulled a face as he swallowed the dark brown, foul tasting, liquid and handed her the empty glass. "It feels a lot better thank you Miss Go.."  
  
"Laura!"  
  
He chuckled. "My apologise, Laura. It feels much better"  
  
She grinned at him as she checked his temperature again. "Well you certainly sound a lot more like yerself."  
  
She listened to his chest instructing him to breathe deeply as she pressed her ear against him and concentrated, then asked him to hold the breath he had just taken. She could hear a whispered rumbling still remained. As he released it and the air whooshed from his mouth it caught on the way out and caused him the cough. She was relieved when he quickly managed to control it and cleared his throat with ease. Good. His lungs were fighting the sickness; he would recover.  
  
She moved on to check his eyes. Their delicate depths were clear and open as she continued her scrutiny, the only thing marring their beauty were fading shadows beneath each eye. But that was to be expected, she was sure it would be several days yet before rest completely washed that away.  
  
And last of all she checked the most minor of his ailments. Peeling back the light bandage from his knee to reveal a rather large, light brown scab over the joint.  
  
"Well we'll soon have ye singing again," she chirped as her well-muscled fingers continued to roam. "An this looks wonderful! Ye'll be happy to hear that there's nothing else ye'll be needing from me."  
  
Frodo grimaced as he saw, for the first time, the week old scab and wondered how in all the Shire he had not seen or felt it before.  
  
Laura chuckled catching his expression and ruffled his freshly washed, silken curls affectionately. She watched the tween gingerly explore the injury, running his slender fingers probingly over its rough surface, acquainting himself with its texture, tracing where it stood proud of his undamaged flesh.  
  
"It was done the night ye were found. Yer Uncle reckons you may have scrapped it on the bank as ye climbed out the river...or as ye fell in." She came over and sat by the bed, smacking his hand away as he unconsciously began to pick at its brittle edge.  
  
He flushed as he realised what he had been doing in front of her and stammered an apology.  
  
"No harm done. I'll never understand lads and things like that, they never seem able to leave scabs alone, always have ta scratch and pick!" She laughed. " Best let that breathe now, mind ye don't break it open. It's healing nicely and won't even scar if ye don't pick."  
  
She crossed the room briskly and, with Frodo's leave, picked out a set of warm clothes from his wardrobe. However she soon discovered that an awake Frodo was much shyer than she could ever have imagined.  
  
Laura placed the finely tailored clothes at the end of the bed and perched herself directly in front of Frodo, automatically reaching out and pulling the feather soft drawstring at his delicate throat and working the lacing loose enough to pull the garment over his head. She felt him stiffen under her fingers as she concentrated on spreading the lacing as wide as it would allow. She frowned and flicked her eyes back up to his inquiringly, he quickly grabbed the lacing and clutched it tightly to his chest and pulled back from her.  
  
"W-what are you doing?" He cried, throat gone dry and eyes impossibly wide.  
  
Laura's frown deepened as she withdrew her hands that were still suspended in midair and set them to rest in her lap. He stared back at her in abject horror. "If ye want to be allowed up for a short time today sir I must get ye dressed up nice and warm. It's either that or ye'll not be allowed up at all." She continued to hold his gaze. "You'll feel much better once yer back on yer feet again...I thought ye were looking forward ta seeing Mr Merry and Sam?"  
  
When Frodo's breathing managed to calm he tried to explain that he was perfectly capable of dressing himself and that if she just allowed him a little privacy he could get the job done a good deal quicker than with her help. Laura was having none of it after the amount of energy it took him to lift a kettle he would easily exhaust himself dressing. Especially in the thick, bulky winter attire she had placed on his bed. A full-blown argument soon blossomed with Frodo stubbornly clutching the bed sheet to himself as Laura won her battle to remove his loose fitting shirt.  
  
Bilbo walked in to one of the most comical sights his old eyes had seen in years. Laura stood at the end of the bed holding a very damp, limp nightshirt in one hand whilst her other firmly grasped her hip in a clear sign of agitation as she tried to explain to Frodo again that he HAD to have help and that was the end of the matter.  
  
Frodo was leaning so far back against his headboard that the old hobbit wondered whether it might break. Frodo held the only thing he had managed to grab before Laura had resorted to ripping his bedding to the ground; a thin white sheet was bunched tightly around his middle as he glared at Laura and tried to cover his modesty.  
  
Bilbo chucked alerting the squabbling pair of his presence. "Now, now! What's all this then? You two look more as if you're to do battle." He laughed and looked to Frodo "Should I bring 'Sting' lad?"  
  
"Uncle!" Frodo instantly brightened and allowed himself to ease off the headboard a little. The look of pure relief was not lost on Bilbo as he quickly assessed the situation.  
  
"Mr Bilbo, Sir. We're having a bit of a...disagreement about Mr Frodo needing help ta dress" Laura was quite flustered and was too tired to care whether it showed or not.  
  
Bilbo observed how her hair hung limply over her shoulders, it's fringe loosely pulled back into a small tail. Her eyes, though angry, sported dark circles to match his nephews. In that moment she looked so much older than a hobbit lass not long passed her majority.  
  
"I understand Laura, calm yourself. My Frodo can be very stubborn when he puts his mind to it. Can't you lad?" Bilbo threw him a stern gaze.  
  
"But Uncle! I.... She..." He dropped his gaze back to the bed and turned redder than one of the Gaffer's prize beetroots and went still.  
  
"Now Frodo Laura is only acting on my strict instruction that you are not to over-exert yourself, especially after the toll it took on you last time you were up"  
  
Frodo merely nodded defeatedly refusing to raise his head to meet his Uncle's kind, but firm gaze. "Yes Uncle"  
  
Bilbo softened as he observed his nephew's flushed and embarrassed state of undress, head hung low hiding his face, curls poking out in all directions, pale shoulders drooped in defeat and slender hands gripping the rucked up sheet. Bilbo cleared his throat diplomatically finding an alternative.  
  
"Laura may I ask whether you have any brothers?"  
  
Laura thought it a strange question but answered anyway. "No Sir, just girls"  
  
"Ah! I thought so." He looked back down at Frodo who had used the moment's distraction to hastily pull more of the sheet around himself, cheeks flaming and still refusing to meet either gaze.  
  
"Well Laura young hobbit lads are a bit...eh...private at this age you might say, hormones and what-have-you."  
  
"Well I can understand that sir, but I've been doing a sight more than dressing Mr Frodo since I've been here! Why it was only this morn that I gave him a bath, this can't be worse then that?"  
  
Bilbo watched as Frodo's head snapped up to stare open-mouthed at that last statement, if the old hobbit didn't know any better he'd say the boy looked faint as he swayed slightly, pulling the sheet from his waist all the way up to his neck.  
  
"I'll make a deal with you Laura, Bell has just served second breakfast and Sam and Merry are already seated. Why don't you take your place and tell them to start without us and I'll help Frodo get ready. Will that do?"  
  
Laura was very hungry; if Poppy hadn't been so busy in town with the epidemic, she could have used her extra pair of hands to deal with the three lads for the last eight days. She was exhausted but allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she watched Frodo pulling at his sheet in front of her; she had at least managed to save one life that week.  
  
She pushed a stray ringlet of hair back behind her ear and nodded picking up the bedding she had managed to wrestle free and closed the door quietly behind her.  
  
Frodo breathed a deep sigh of relief as Laura's footsteps grew distant, he smiled up at his saviour, but before he could speak Bilbo cut him off. "Now no more of this nonsense! I trust my presence will be much more tolerable than Miss Goodbody's?"  
  
Frodo's smile faltered for a moment before he saw the irrepressible twinkle in Bilbo's eyes, he allowed the sheet to fall back and bunch at his waist. Raking his fingers through his hair as he allowed his muscles to relax. He stretched across the bed to retrieve the clothes laid out for him and wrinkled his nose at the selection. They were quite heavy and he felt sure that they would be too hot. He decided to keep those thoughts to himself.  
  
"I'm sorry to cause such a fuss."  
  
"Well, no harm done. Now sit still while I help you with that...no, no other arm, that's it."  
  
Bilbo carefully worked through the pile of clothes, mindful of all of Frodo's hurts, in particular his scraped knee. The breeches were last and as Bilbo helped snap the braces into place he stepped back to inspect his handiwork. Never was it more obvious than then just how much weight the lad had lost in such a short space of time. His beautifully tailored breeches gaped at his belly and the small of his back, Bilbo tisked at the sight for it made Frodo appear to be the same age as Merry rather than a lad into his tween's (with the exception of the obvious height difference). He was broken from this train of thought by Frodo, who until that moment had sat in silence on the end of the bed.  
  
"Uncle, did Laura really ...give me a bath?" He could barely finish the question.  
  
"Yes. I was busy with Merry and Sam this morning and it needed to be done."  
  
"Oh. I don't think I shall ever be able to look her in the eye again." He stammered.  
  
Bilbo laughed heartily. "Don't worry yourself, Laura is a healer, be she a relatively young one. She has seen everything there is to see of a hobbit, it is nothing for her to look upon an unclothed body. It's part of her job." He couldn't resist ruffling Frodo's curls one last time as he finished dressing his nephew who was still red-faced and flustered.  
  
"Honestly Frodo! I have never known a lad as shy as you, I have no idea how you survived Brandy Hall!"  
  
Frodo accepted Bilbo's arm to lean on as they walked slowly across the room together, he still felt a little fragile even after all the rest he'd taken.  
  
"Timing Uncle, timing," was all he'd say on the matter as they headed towards the kitchen, the smell of fried eggs and bacon wafting through the air.  
  
****  
  
It was another two days before Frodo was able to last a whole day without needing a nap in-between, much to his annoyance Laura enforced these rest periods and not even his silver tongue could talk him out of them, a fact that made Merry double over in hysterics.  
  
For Laura, her work at Bag End was done, save for a check-up visit arranged in a week's time, and it was time to leave. Sam was now well enough to travel the short distance back to Bagshot Row and Bell and Hamfast had spent most of the morning gathering up his things and taking advice from Laura.  
  
Laura gave Merry and Sam one last examination before she deemed them fit and healthy but not to overexert themselves too soon. She had to informed Sam's parents that she would still need to pay him weekly visits for a good month regarding his wrist.  
  
"But, ye said it would heal Miss Laura and Bell said it looked a sight better."  
  
"Yes, Mr Gamgee, it will and it does, but not without careful handling and gentle exercise. And this I have ta watch close."  
  
Hamfast frowned, what they had all thought was a simple case of a sprained wrist had turned out to be more serious. Laura had warned Bell that she suspected there was damage deep in the flesh around the bone and sinew and that unless exercised lightly, would stiffen and lock the joint in place.  
  
Hamfast watched as Sam struggled into his thick, woollen coat and cloak, failing to do the buttons up on the coat and leaving it hanging wide open, until Bell spotted the situation and much to Sam's embarrassment did it for him.  
  
The scene played before him disturbed Hamfast. His son was strong, stronger than he himself had been at that age and to suffer an injury that could limit the use of his hand would be crippling. Not just to the lad and his profession, but the ripples would continue into all aspects of his adult life. No father would agree to their daughter wedding a hobbit who would struggle to provide for her and any bairn's that were bound to come along sooner or later.  
  
Laura watched Hamfast grow silent and contemplative as he stared at his son clutching his useless wrist to his front as his mother negotiated the last of his buttons and pinched his cheek earning her a 'Maaaaa!' before she set about making sure she had gathered all his things.  
  
Hamfast felt eyes watching him and turned to Laura. She drew closer to make sure her voice didn't travel, a sympathetic look on her face; it wasn't hard to deduce his train of thoughts.  
  
"It will be fine, I'll see ta it that he's as good as new in no time. Though I'll be honest with ye, the injury will trouble him for the first winter or two, but, being the age he is it won't trouble him after that. Ye have my word." She finished.  
  
For a hobbit, any hobbit to give their word was not a thing to be taken lightly. Laura as a healer had more to loose if her word was proved false, reputations had been broken over lesser things.  
  
Hamfast smiled warmly at her then, allowing the taught muscles in his shoulders to relax a little. "I would like ta thank ye Miss Laura for all ye've done for me boy. Whatever it costs ta make him right I'll pay it"  
  
Laura took the hand he offered her and shook it warmly. "Yer welcome Sir."  
  
She pulled her cloak on and grasped her bag firmly and slowly made her way to the door as Ham followed and held the door open for her. The sudden rush of cooler air and bright sunshine drew Bilbo's attention and he quickly made his way toward them. But before Bilbo was in earshot she informed Hamfast that as far as the three boy's combined expenses went, Mr Bilbo had already taken care of her bill and the salve Samwise would need, Frodo had already packed amongst Sam's possessions.  
  
She left Ham chewing on that new and unexpected piece of information whilst Bilbo thanked her kindly and Bell gave her a hug goodbye. Laura had already said her goodbyes to Merry and Frodo who stood talking quietly with Samwise, giggling every so often in hushed tones. She caught enough of the conversation to know they were speaking about Bilbo and the tea incident. She winced and wondered for the hundredth time what possessed her to do such a thing.  
  
Bilbo's eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked to him and knew he too had heard. He shook his head and chuckled as he showed her out.  
  
"Right I think that's everything!" Bell announced, more to herself than anyone else and breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Come on Samwise, it's time." She caught the torn look in Sam's eyes as he obediently, yet a little reluctantly came to stand at her side. She leaned down to him and whispered that Mr Bilbo had said any time he wished to visit he was more than welcome and that he could use his time to study alongside Frodo if he wished.  
  
Bilbo came and ruffled his curls as the Gamgees stepped outside.  
  
"Thank you Mr Bilbo, Sir!" Sam squeaked in delight.  
  
Bilbo smiled affectionately at the lad as Sam hopped back and forth on the spot. "Well then I take it I shall see you in a few days time Sam. Provided your parents don't mind and can spare you for a bit."  
  
Bell nodded and after Merry and Frodo said their goodbyes, she and Sam made their way down the path and disappeared round the corner. Bilbo stared at Ham questioningly as he made no move to follow his family.  
  
"Frodo, Merry"  
  
"Yes Uncle?" They chorused.  
  
"I think it time you both had a rest and retire to Frodo's room. The fire is still lit and it's the warmest room in the smial" He silenced their protest before they could utter the first words "Come, come. You have BOTH done far too much dashing around and are paying the price now. Frodo you are as white as a sheet and Merry you have been yawning for the better part of twenty minutes. Off with you!"  
  
When they had retreated to Frodo's room Hamfast finally spoke, he had that stubborn look in his eye and Bilbo knew instantly what this was about.  
  
"I'd just like ta thank ye for all yer generous hospitality Master and I'll be by tomorrow ta start plantin'."  
  
"It was my pleasure Master Hamfast, Sam is a wonderful lad and I know Frodo and Merry have enjoyed his company...But there really is no need to bother with the garden just ye..."  
  
"Yes. There. Is." Hamfast's tone was strained. He did not want to enter into an argument that could be avoided with his employer, but there was a debt that needed to be paid and he would work for as hard and as long as it took until he had cleared it.  
  
Bilbo sensed Ham's struggle and sighed heavily, silently cursing (not for the first time) the strict class system in place in Hobbiton that had prevented he and Hamfast from openly being friends for many decades and his friend's dogged determination to keep that wall in place.  
  
Bilbo and Hamfast stared at each other before Bilbo schooled his face "Very well Master Hamfast, I look forward to seeing you bright and early!"  
  
"Thank ye Sir, that ye will." With that said he gave a nod and was gone.  
  
*****  
  
The next day Saradoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland arrived to collect his son. He stayed long enough to enjoy lunch and dinner at Bag End thanking Bilbo for taking such good care of Meriadoc.  
  
Frodo helped Merry pack and assured his despondent cousin that he would see him again soon and to pass on his regards to their young cousin, Pippin, whom they were both very fond of, knowing that Merry was more likely to see the young lad before he did.  
  
"Come along now Meriadoc, the road is long and it's already later then I had planned to leave. Say goodbye to Frodo and your Uncle and hurry to the cart."  
  
"Yes Sir"  
  
Merry gave Bilbo a hug and thanked him properly for inviting him to stay and for taking care of him while he was ill. A long thin wrap of cloth was pushed into his hand as the embrace ended. Bilbo smiled and gave a nod, as Merry opened it, the cloth revealed a medium size assortment of sugar and peppermint sticks. Merry's favourite as well his uncle knew. Carefully rolling them back up he placed them in his pocket and thanked his uncle again, somehow Bilbo always seemed to know how to make him happy.  
  
"We look forward to seeing you again soon lad. Don't be a stranger, for I don't think Frodo could stand to wait another six months for your next visit." He gave him a good-natured wink as Merry smiled sheepishly.  
  
"I won't stay away that long again. I promise."  
  
Saradoc drew the cart to a halt at the end of the gate and waited expectantly as Bilbo came down the path to meet him, leaving Frodo and Merry standing opposite each other on the doorstep.  
  
"I'll miss you cousin." Frodo murmured past the lump that rose in his throat. He really was going to miss Merry terribly and the prospect of having to wait until Pippin's birthday in August was hard to bear. If no arrangement could be made beforehand then that would be the next time they met.  
  
Merry trembled under Frodo's intense gaze, he opened his mouth to say something but found he couldn't speak past the lump that was forming in his throat. He shook his head and embraced Frodo fiercely instead, allowing a few tears to fall on his cousin's neck as he buried his face in that comforting warmth.  
  
"I-I'll miss y-you too" He managed between sobs.  
  
When they pulled apart Merry refused to let go of Frodo's hand as they walked down the cool stone steps and through the cheery, bright green gate. Frodo gave him a concerned look as Merry refused to meet his eyes until he was hoisted up next to his father and enveloped in a thick winter quilt.  
  
"Goodbye!" Frodo and Bilbo shouted and waved as Saradoc urged the pony on and waved over his shoulder to them. Merry didn't wave back but kept his gaze locked on Frodo, his chin trembling and eyes shimmering with unspilt tears, until the cart turned and took him out of sight.  
  
When Bilbo ushered Frodo back indoors and set about making a pot of tea he noted how quiet Frodo was, the lad was sat at the table in deep, troubled thought by the knitting of his brow, hands clasped and oblivious to Bilbo's chatter.  
  
Bilbo settled himself opposite Frodo and waited patiently for him to speak, however when Frodo failed to register that his uncle was even in front of him Bilbo reached out and stroked his thumb in soothing motion across Frodo's frown. The creased skin smoothed as Frodo looked up into his uncle's concerned, questioning face.  
  
"Don't worry lad, Merry will be back to visit again soon I'm sure of it. He might even bring that troublesome Took with him next time." It was Bilbo's turn to frown then. "But he would have to give me some warning so that I can stock up the pantry, honestly I don't know where Pippin puts it all...or maybe I'm just not used to how much the average growing lad puts away? Hummm?"  
  
It was a dig and Frodo knew it, he gave Bilbo a small smile but a faint remnant of the frown remained in place. Bilbo laced his fingers together and waited patiently as Frodo gave him a considering look before speaking, as if he were trying to piece together a very complex puzzle and had discovered a bit missing.  
  
"I'm worried about Merry," he stated at last looking to his hands again.  
  
"Yes, he concerns me also. Has he said anything to you?"  
  
"No. But that also worries me" He sighed in exasperation "Uncle, for as long as I can remember Merry could talk the hind leg off a donkey and out- eat a horse, but not this time. He was so tense those first few days, very standoffish and even today it was almost as if I was speaking to someone else."  
  
Bilbo sat silently digesting this, so he had not been the only one to feel a change in Merry. Bilbo was far from blind and had seen the white knuckled grip Merry had on Frodo at the gate, nor had he been oblivious to Merry's silence soon after Saradoc's letter arrived the other day informing them when he would be able to collect Merry.  
  
Bilbo often wondered if Merry received enough attention from his father, the job of Master of Buckland was a backbreaking responsibility and took Saradoc away from his family too often. Especially this last few years as the numbers at Brandy Hall soared. He also suspected that part of Merry's disquiet might be because the lad was reaching an age where he realised that one day he would be Master and have to deal with all the responsibility that went with that title. A job that would make even a grown hobbit tremble. Yes, poor Merry's life was already mapped out for him, that was why Bilbo saw it as so important that Merry have as much fun now as possible, for there would be little room for manoeuvre when he came of age.  
  
It was the only thing that Bilbo and Saradoc ever disagreed with; Saradoc imposed a strict education programme on young Merry. And whilst Bilbo had to admire the vast amount of progress he had observed in the quality of letters he and Frodo had received from Merry, all beautifully scripted in a bold flowing hand, grammar and punctuation almost perfect and not an ink blot in sight, he would rather Merry found his own pace. That had been his handling of Frodo's education; Frodo set his own pace with his gentle, yet firm, encouragement.  
  
*I warned Saradoc not to push the lad too hard too soon. I shall speak with Esmeralda when next I'm in Brandy Hall*  
  
"Did he say anything about home? You know a fight or a lass perhaps?" Bilbo asked hopefully.  
  
"Barely. Unless it was to talk about Pippin of course."  
  
"Ah now. I wouldn't worry about it too much Frodo. He's reaching that age where his hormones will be up and down, I'm sure if there was something really wrong he would have told you by now, after all he always has."  
  
Frodo smiled in relief, of course Merry would tell him. He and Merry told each other most things. "You're right Uncle, as always."  
  
"Of course I am!" He chuckled, rising and returning to his previous task. "Now how about that tea?"  
  
Later that evening after they had both enjoyed a good supper they sat in the living room round the fire in comfortable silence. Bilbo smoked his pipe, deep in thought over a verse to his new poem while Frodo thumbed through one of his old diaries from when he first moved to Bag End.  
  
Bilbo became aware that the atmosphere had changed somehow, he looked over to Frodo and discovered him staring off into the fire; he had turned very pale.  
  
"Frodo?"  
  
Frodo did not respond. Indeed Bilbo was able to kneel right in front of him and check his brow for fever before Frodo blinked and recoiled in surprise at finding Bilbo magically in front of him.  
  
"Uncle!" He breathed. "I didn't know you could move that fast!" He joked.  
  
Bilbo didn't move nor did he speak, instead he gently took Frodo's diary from the lad's lap and turned it so that he could read the page. Frodo's fingers dragged over the page as it was taken from his grasp but he didn't stop his uncle as Bilbo turned it and noted the date, his eyes grew sad with remembered loss.  
  
Bilbo stayed frozen in position in front of Frodo's chair staring at that page for long moments as he remembered the day Frodo came to live with him. The diary had been a present on his arrival, but it had been given on suggestion from one of the healers at Brandy Hall that if Frodo would not talk or cry about the loss of his parents then perhaps he would find peace writing it down instead.  
  
The before Bilbo pages were completely blank save for the date. In fact, unbeknownst to Bilbo, most of the first three months of Frodo's first diary were merely blank sheets of paper with the date neatly written in Frodo's, elegant, steady hand.  
  
Bilbo had never read the diary and respected Frodo's privacy too much to ever snoop, but he couldn't stop the slow sad sigh that issued from him as he closed the book and handed it back to Frodo. He rose and resumed his place by the fire puffing slightly more vigorously than before on his pipe.  
  
Frodo looked at the black leather diary in his trembling hands and then back to Bilbo who was lost in thought and did not look back when Frodo's gaze burnt into the side of his face.  
  
Bilbo ignored his nephew; he was too tired to get into another argument about 'opening up' and 'needing to talk'. What was there left to say that he had not said already? He could not force the issue, past experience had taught him that, but he would be lying if he didn't admit that he was angry and dreadfully worried.  
  
The book, he had always thought, was his only triumph on the whole matter for Frodo usually took care never to leave it lying around and therefore Bilbo had assumed that the reason behind it was that he was using it to vent some of his pent-up emotions and did not want anyone to read it. Silly, he should have known better by now.  
  
*Your Uncle is very old, though he does not seem it.and he loves you very much. I don't know what he would do if he lost you, you're all he has in this world*  
  
Primula's words floated back to Frodo across the great barrier and set his young heart pounding as he looked to his uncle. The flames from the roaring fire bathed Bilbo in warm autumn tones that contrasted sharply with the shadows, he realised that ever since he had agreed to live with his uncle at Bag End he had been pushing the old hobbit away from him.  
  
He loved Bilbo dearly. Of that he was certain, he had always loved Bilbo, even when his parents were alive. He knew just how much Bilbo was sacrificing in bringing him up, his own freedom as well as denying the call of the open road and his thirst for adventure. Bilbo had made his choice with what time remained to him on Middle Earth and he had chosen Frodo.  
  
This revelation startled Frodo, he had never thought of it like that. As Frodo scrutinised the contours of Bilbo's face he realised his mother was right, his uncle did not reflect his years. Something the town folk often remarked upon, usually in a resentful way and always out of Bilbo's earshot, only his hair had changed in all the years Frodo had known him. The rich chestnut brown locks had slowly given way to grey and more recently the odd fleck of white.  
  
*He's more fragile then he seems.*  
  
Sometimes he forgot just how old Bilbo was, fooled by his outward appearance, yet his eyes told a different story. As he watched Bilbo gaze mesmerised into the fire he noted their hazel depths, almost black in the light of the room, seemed to dim with the weight of his years. Frodo knew that his own silence had played a hand in that process.  
  
The lines on Bilbo's face seemed greater as Frodo watched the transformation take place the deeper Bilbo sank into his own thoughts. Frodo felt himself choked by years of suppressed emotions, most of which he didn't know how to identify let alone deal with. Others he didn't even know existed. Bilbo had tried to help him. They had ALL tried to help him but he had refused everyone.  
  
Bilbo shot back in his seat and let out a startled cry as something heavy was thrown into the fire, rudely awakening him from his thoughts. As the fire licked at the dark object before it started to consume it, he realised what it was. Frodo's diary!  
  
He looked to Frodo and all he could see were two large pools of shimmering blue as Frodo stared back. He sat rigid in the high-backed chair and dug his fingers into the arms until they turned white, Bilbo heard the leather creak and groan in protest. Frodo's chin trembled as he continued to stare at Bilbo with such raw open need that it took Bilbo's breath away. It was happening, at long last after so many years it was happening. Bilbo was scared, he did not want to do or say anything to stop Frodo and he may not get a second chance at this.  
  
As it transpired he had no need to worry about Frodo shutting down as before, for Frodo's sweet face crumpled into silent pain and utter misery. Bilbo moved forward and gathered Frodo to him before the fire, his arms locked around Frodo's slim frame, which shook violently in his grasp; Frodo's face burrowed into Bilbo's shoulder clutching at his back as if his life depended on it.  
  
"Let it out my lad...let it all out" Bilbo whispered as he started to gently rock them both, Frodo complied.  
  
A ragged breath turned into a soft moan that grew and grew until Bilbo feared he would be deafened as the keening echoed through Bag End and out into the starlit night. Bilbo held him tight and never ceased the comforting rocking motion as Frodo found his voice and howled about how unfair it was and how angry he was with his parents for going out onto the Brandywine at night and leaving him alone forever, until his voice became broken and his eyes ran dry. Once again all Frodo could do was hang limply in Bilbo's strong embrace and whimper like a wounded animal in-between breaths.  
  
Bilbo rose, lifting Frodo with him and settled back into his chair with Frodo curled up under his chin, long legs draped over the opposite arm, he only just fitted. Frodo was exhausted, too tired to do anything except sit and listen to the steady thump of Bilbo's heart against his ear and feel his uncle rubbing some warmth back into his arm. Strange the room had been so nice and warm not ten minutes ago.  
  
Frodo sniffed loudly and was rewarded with a handkerchief thrust into his limp hand. He blew his nose and jammed the soiled cloth into his pocket and then lay back against Bilbo's chest and closed his dry, aching eyes. Frodo awoke with a start as Bilbo started to speak and realised that he had actually fallen asleep and judging by the embers of the now dying fire that had been many hours ago. He coughed and sat up scrubbing at his face, everything ached and he was still tired.  
  
Bilbo smiled fondly at his dishevelled appearance and pulled a curl making him giggle despite himself. It broke the ice at any rate.  
  
"Thank you," Bilbo said simply.  
  
"What do you mean? I should be thanking you ...for putting up with the mess I've made of everything." Frodo sighed and looked away, unsure and embarrassed at his outburst.  
  
Bilbo took a firm grasp of his chin and pulled him back to face him "I thank you that you trusted me enough to let go. I have been so frightfully worried for you all these years...so worried" He whispered as he stroked Frodo's velvet soft cheek.  
  
Frodo worried his lower lip and decided to tell Bilbo about what happened to him in the river and what his mother asked of him. By the time he had finished Bilbo was sat in shocked silence before him.  
  
"Do...do you think me mad uncle? I'm-I'm not mad, am I?"  
  
Bilbo slowly shook his head and drew his gaze back to Frodo. "No lad, no. Not at all! If you say you saw Primula then I believe you. After all some of the things I have seen on my travels seem pretty unbelievable but that does not mean that they didn't happen."  
  
Bilbo's eyes stung but he was determined not to cry in front of Frodo right then. His cousin needed him to be strong for him right now, there was always time later.  
  
"I am very glad you decided not to leave me... it would have been more than I could bear. You do know how much I want you here with me, don't you?" A hint of uncertainty crept into Bilbo's question.  
  
"Well at first...I thought, maybe you were doing it because no one else would," Bilbo was appalled but Frodo held up his hand and Bilbo allowed him to continue. "But then as time went by I realised...that is it felt...I knew it was more than just obligation. I am very grateful to you for this lovely home, really I am...I don't know where I would be now if not for you...Brandy Hall, maybe."  
  
"Now then, enough of that talk. You're a Baggins and my favourite cousin; your home is Bag End. I never had a family Frodo, as you know...I never felt the need to after..." He breathed hard before he continued, ..."after you were born. Did you know I was there the day you arrived?"  
  
Frodo shook his head, soft curls bouncing as Bilbo grinned at the memory of the tiny bundle of dark curls Primula lovingly entrusted to him as she lay back and fell into an exhausted sleep.  
  
As Frodo lay back against Bilbo once more, he allowed his uncle to comb through his curls as Bilbo remembered that special day that changed his life for ever.  
  
"You were so wanted. You see your mother had been told she could never bear a child..."  
  
"Oh!" He interrupted. "I didn't know that, what happened?"  
  
"A childhood illness that nearly clamed her life took that gift from her, or at least so we all were informed by the healers in Buckland. But she proved them wrong when she became pregnant with you." He chuckled then as an image of a radiant Primula and a beaming Drogo turned up on his doorstep unannounced and surprised him with the wonderful news.  
  
"Your father was driving your mother mad I tell you, the poor lass couldn't so much as lift a teacup without being asked if she was all right or did she have enough to eat and not to lift anything too heavy." He did laugh then and felt Frodo grin against his chest as he continued. "Your mother clouted him right there in front of me and threatened she would walk back to Buckland that very night if he didn't stop behaving like that. Oh and when you were born, well..."  
  
"Well what? Please tell me, I haven't heard these stories before."  
  
Bilbo chuckled "Well you were supposed to arrive around September the 12th but you were having none of that, you seemed determined to arrive on my birthday! I received a letter three days beforehand telling me your mother had gone into labour and I rode straight there. Your father was a nervous wreck and I must confess I was not that far behind him. We got through quite a lot of Brandy between the two of us as we waited and he told me about various names they had thought up for you. If you were a girl your mother had her heart set on several of the old flower names. Drogo was convinced you were a boy and following with tradition wanted a name similar to his own, yet individual. You were their miracle child, the one that they dared not hope for and your name was to reflect that. He looked into your face for the first time as you were nestled in your mother's arms, not even an hour old, Drogo smiled and said 'Frodo'."  
  
"How do you know all this uncle?" Frodo felt warm to his toes as he soaked up all this information and wondered sadly why they had never done this before.  
  
"I was there. Before you say it I know it was not proper and heard so at the time. The midwife was in an uproar I can tell you, voicing loudly that it just wasn't right for another man to be visiting mother and child so soon."  
  
"What did Papa and Mama say?"  
  
"Primula was in no mood to have Violet, she was the midwife, spoil her moment, Drogo diplomatically thanked her for her work and asked her to leave."  
  
Frodo covered his mouth as he giggled at the image Bilbo painted.  
  
"Oh yes, your father could be quite blunt with people when need be, usually if they upset Primula or you. Besides, your mother argued that because it was my birthday and now her son's I could stay and meet my new cousin!  
  
"After your mother fell asleep, Drogo took you to where everyone else had to wait and I can still recall the shouts and cheers as he unwrapped you enough for everyone to get a peek."  
  
"Who was there?"  
  
"Oh far too many to recall everyone right now...let me think. There was Esmeralda and Saradoc of course, Esmy wanted to kidnap you all night you know, even Saradoc was reluctant to return you. Paladin and Eglantine were there, Ferumbras, Milo and Peony, Rorimac, oh the list was endless."  
  
"But why were so many people there, I don't understand why another lad was so important?"  
  
"Another lad? Another lad indeed! Frodo you're a Baggins! And not just that you're also a Brandybuck, you are the combination of two of the strongest bloodlines, not to mention respected families in the entire Shire. Add to that the fact that we all never thought we would see the day Primula became pregnant and there you have it! Half of Tuckborough, all of Brandy Hall and a handful of Bagginses were waiting for you. Never think for one moment Frodo that your arrival was not a joyous one, we threw a party as soon as Primula was well enough and it lasted four days!"  
  
Frodo was silent for a long time churning over all these new stories, Bilbo felt the front of his shirt dampen and knew its cause. He hugged Frodo and asked him if he was all right.  
  
Frodo gave a breathy laugh and nodded scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his cuff much to Bilbo's dismay. His handkerchief was still clutched in Frodo's other hand but he seemed to have forgotten that. Never mind.  
  
"I wish I could stop crying, but now I've started I don't seem to be able to. I wish we had done this before, I never knew half of what I have heard tonight."  
  
"I didn't want to upset you my boy."  
  
"I understand. Can we talk about this some more tomorrow...I really would like to hear more, my heart doesn't hurts so much when I hear this, but right now I'm so tired." He chewed his lip and climbed off Bilbo's lap.  
  
Bilbo had to rub his old legs to get the circulation flowing again before he rose and escorted Frodo to his room, tucking him in and informing him that there were plenty more tales to tell and that if he felt ready to hear them, then he would gladly oblige.  
  
For the first time in many years both Frodo and Bilbo slept long and peacefully, safe in the knowledge that the real healing had begun.  
  
*****  
  
A week later.  
  
The day was bright and warm when Frodo awoke to find he had slept late, again. It seemed that since his 'breakthrough' as Bilbo called it, he slept a lot longer than he used to. After a quick wash and dressing he headed toward the kitchen where he found his breakfast already cooked and cooling on the table, along with a short note informing him that his uncle had to go into town and would not be back until luncheon. Should he need anything Hamfast was in the garden and Bilbo had asked him to look in on him later in the day.  
  
Frodo busied himself with his studies, which he had fallen behind with over the past few weeks. It was almost time for Bilbo's return when Frodo emerged from his room; an ink stained hand and cramp were his reward for the morning's effort to catch up on some of the harder elements of elvish written language. Samwise was due to start visiting tomorrow for his resumed lessons and Frodo wanted to get as much of it done and out the way as possible for he knew that he would not be able to concentrate enough to absorb anything while Sam was watching him make the elven marks on his page. It wasn't Sam's fault; Sam had fallen in love with all things elvish years ago thanks to Bilbo's stories and watching Frodo write elvish was one of Sam's favourite pastimes (although he didn't know Frodo knew this).  
  
Just as he was about to wash his hands and start preparing lunch for himself and his uncle he heard a soft, hesitant knock at the front door. When he opened it, to his surprise there stood May Gamgee in her pretty red cotton dress, which she only wore for special occasions. He smiled at her and was about to invite her in when something solid and wrapped up in cloth was pushed into his chest; reflexively he caught it and stared at it then back to a furiously blushing and slightly shaking May.  
  
"May, are you all right? What is this?" No answer. "Do you want me to open it?"  
  
May nodded and kept her gaze firmly on her skirts. Frodo watched her for a second, unsure what had caused the usually very chatty lass to behave so meekly, and with him of all people? She had never been outright rude to him before but she had come close on several occasions and he knew that some of the rumours flying around about him could only have come from either Merry's family or Sam's. Their information was just too accurate for it to have been a good guess, he was certain she had been the source.  
  
As he unwrapped the bundle to reveal the achingly familiar silver pendant he gasped and popped it open to reveal the only two images he possessed of his mother and father. He hadn't even known it was missing, that in itself troubled him. When he could form proper thought again he turned to May, who hadn't moved at all, and asked the obvious.  
  
"Where did you get this?"  
  
When she didn't answer he stepped forward, she shrank back afraid in his temper he would strike her knowing that she was a thief and deserved nothing less.  
  
"I'm sorry!" She squeaked.  
  
But when she met his eyes she froze in confusion, there was no malice there, only confusion and deep sorrow. In a way she almost wished he were angry with her, anything but the look he was giving her now, so open and tragic.  
  
"I-I was told t-ta set a fire in yer room t-t-the night ye were missin. I- I...." She trailed off unable to continue and desperately fending off tears, she would not cry. Not over something she had done to herself.  
  
"You...found my pendant, and borrowed it?" He was offering her a way out.  
  
She watched as his brow smoothed and his face became blank, she could not read what was happening beneath its surface but she steeled herself and stood a little straighter. She was a Gamgee, and she would accept whatever her punishment was, she only hoped that it would not endanger her father or brother's job at Bag End.  
  
"No sir. I was..." She gulped again and licked her suddenly dry lips before she could continue. ... "I was pokin my nose where I had no right ta and I dropped it when I was lookin at it."  
  
Frodo frowned and ran his fingers searchingly over the pendant but found no damage...aah! The glass was new; a light yellow tint to it was the only give away.  
  
"You took it to have it mended."  
  
She nodded and looked to the ground once more, she felt her face was burning and rubbed her sweaty palms down her skirts and was mortified when she heard Mr Bilbo's whistle as he rounded the corner and approached the gate. If things weren't bad enough Hamfast had also come over to investigate, having been attracted when he recognised his daughter's voice float round into the garden.  
  
"May?"  
  
Hamfast rubbed his mucky hands on his handkerchief and frowned at her as he appeared from the back gardens. Something was not right that was for sure and whatever it was it had started not long after the boys fell in the river.  
  
"What are ye doin here May? Don't ya know Mr Frodo's still recoverin' from that fever an here ye are having him stand..."  
  
"It's all right Mr Gamgee really. I asked May if she would mind running an errand for me a while ago and take my mother's pendant to have the glass replaced." He held up the pendant for Hamfast to see.  
  
Ham eyed his daughter suspiciously; she was staring open-mouthed at Frodo like he had just sprouted two wings and a tail.  
  
"May? Close yer mouth girl, by the Shire Mr Frodo'll think I raised ye with no manners!"  
  
She obediently snapped her jaw shut and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Why was Frodo helping her after what she had done? Not that she was complaining.  
  
"Hello there May, I haven't seen you here in a while. To what do we owe the pleasure?"  
  
"I invited her round for lunch Uncle, I had a little accident with mother's pendant and May kindly took it to the menders for me."  
  
Bilbo frowned; it was not like Frodo to be clumsy especially with his mother's possessions.  
  
"Well be a little more careful next time, there's my lad. After all you cannot replace that. Now lunch! What a splendid idea, Frodo show May where she can wash her hands, Hamfast would you please join us?"  
  
Ham was just about to politely decline his offer as he always did when he caught the uneasy look May was giving him; she was actually sweating. He smiled at her and winked.  
  
"Thank ye Mr Bilbo I'd like that very much."  
  
Bilbo nearly dropped the documents he was carrying; Hamfast had never taken him up on his numerous offers for tea, luncheon, or dinner at Bag End.  
  
He grinned and slapped him on the back. "Frodo, Master Hamfast knows the way to the washroom so he can guide May while you can help me in the kitchen, yes?"  
  
"Yes, I'll just put this in a safe place first." Frodo dashed off towards his room as Bilbo ushered the Gamgees in and set about boiling water for tea and cutting bread. He could tell they were uncomfortable having Bilbo and him wait on them.  
  
Frodo returned to the kitchen a moment later, his mother's pendant now safely returned to its box. Bilbo was standing with Hamfast near the stove, it appeared that Hamfast had not been able to able to allow Bilbo to wait on him and had started to retrieve crockery while Bilbo placed cheeses and thickly sliced bread on the table in front of May. She sat rigid and blushed when Frodo brought the tea over and sat next to her. She stared at him questioningly as he poured everyone a cup.  
  
"Sir, I must know why...."  
  
"Because...because I know you didn't mean it to happen. Everyone makes mistakes." He gave her a mischievous grin that she couldn't help but mirror. "In Brandy Hall my name is infamous." He chuckled. "Poor Uncle Saradoc used to tear his hair out at some of my antics. Farmer Maggot has a pitchfork with my name on it to this day."  
  
"No! You mean you..." She trailed off in astonishment. The real Frodo Baggins was not at all what she had expected.  
  
"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused ye. I don't just mean the pendant...I said some things I wish I ha..."  
  
"It doesn't matter. Just...don't do it again. Shall we start over? Bargain?"  
  
She breathed a deep sigh of relief and nodded. "Bargain!"  
  
"What are you two whispering about?" Bilbo arched his eyebrow at them as he and Hamfast placed the rest of the food on the table and took their seats.  
  
"Nothing!" They both chimed then grinned at each other.  
  
Hamfast frowned and Bilbo chuckled. It was good to see everything back to normal and better than ever before. Frodo was happy again, and more open than he had been in years laughing and whispering something to May that made her, to Hamfast's dismay, almost spit her mouthful of cheese back out.  
  
*Little rascals! I wonder what they're up to?*  
  
Hamfast loosened up enough to enjoy their meal and a good smoke whilst conversing with Bilbo on the finer points of herb lore and what he himself had discovered. Bilbo sat back listening to all that the Gaffer had to say and voicing his own views here and there.  
  
Yes this definitely seemed the year for great change.  
  
The End  
  
I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who was kind enough to leave me feedback both on and off Fanfiction.net. Without your support I would not have continued with this story, so thank you once again. And I hope that most of you will enjoy my next work.  
  
  
  
'Silence' is to follow soon:  
  
SUMMARY: The Brandybuck temper was legendary throughout The Four Farthings and even stretching as far a field as Bree. So it came as no surprise to those who had cause to visit Brandy Hall, that young Meriadoc Brandybuck was a 'dark horse' of late. But is the change in his temperament purely teenage hormones or something altogether darker?  
  
NOTES: This story is a follow-on from "Brandywine" and is based in Buckland, Brandy Hall. This story is quite a dark one and will vary in rating so I ask you not to read it unless you are prepared for this fluctuation. As always I am eager for constructive feedback, no flames please. Enjoy! 


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