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| Chapter 1: Apples of Summer On a dirt path just south of Bywater a young maiden ran, with no shoes. She was a hobbit, so the lack of shoes was no surprise, but for an outsider it meant she was smaller than a human woman by about half. The fact that her feet were flying was notably odd, for hobbits are not given to haste, and on a lovely sunny day in early June, a hurried hobbit could only mean news. She made her way quickly down the winding path, her yellow cotton dress rippling behind her has she rushed out of the grassy hills up into the skirts of a wooded shoulder. The floating cotton of the trees and the bugs of summer drifted around her, catching the light, as she ducked between the large trunks. To the untrained eye she vanished in the thickening trees around her. But she knew the path well and hastened around its every twist and turn until she came to a sunny glade at the foot of a lovely sloping hill covered in grass. Deep into the side of the hill looked out several round doors and windows of some rather nice hobbit holes. These were the Bolger holes, in a nicely wooded area below Hobbiton, and squeezed between the larger indefinable areas known as Tookland and Buckland. The hobbit maid ran directly to the fourth hole from the trail and burst in the door breathless. "Oh, mama! Wait till you hear this ill news!" she cried. Gasping for breath, she set down a rather large cloth bag with leafy greens poking out the top. "What can it be, child?" replied the mother, wiping her hands on an apron and motioning for her daughter to sit. Plopping unceremoniously into a wooden chair with a fancy, flowery cushion on its seat, the maiden pushed a mass of light brown curls out of her eyes and off her neck. She looked at her mother with great concern. "Cousin Frodo has sold Bag End!" She continued after seeing a satisfactory look of surprise cross her mother's face. "And can you believe it, he sold it to Lobelia Sackville-Baggins!" "No!" Shocked, her mother sat down to look directly into her daughter's young green eyes. "Selling Bag End? And to Lobelia! I can't believe that Tella. You're teasing me." "Nay, I do not tease, it is true, for I had it just now from Marigold Gamgee up at Bagshot Row. Her dad is having a fit and his blustering can probably be heard up at Frogmorton," she sighed. "Oh, my." She let out a gasp. "Well if you've had it from the Gamgees, you probably need not ask elsewhere. But why sell that nice hole? Where is he going?" "That I do not even think any but cousin Frodo knows, but if you ask about town I think you would hear plenty of reasons, and all made up most likely," she said, and took a drink of a glass of water set before her. The modest hole was cool and comfortable as the mother and daughter talked of the news and gossip from town. The younger hobbit looked quite like her mother, same green eyes and round cheeks punctuated with outstanding dimples in the midst of a grin. But her hair was of a lighter hue, much fairer than the average curly haired hobbit. For her kind she was not short, nor tall, but still relatively slender, as hobbits go. Rosamunda Bolger was the older's name, though most called her simply Rosa. Some even called her Rosa Took, for she had been a Took longer than a Bolger, for she was widowed nearly twenty-five years now. She kept an uncompromisingly happy attitude, and a casual observer would not have known the grief that still lay heavy on her heart. Her daughter was Estella, or just Tella as they called her. And though at a nice, ripe marrying age of thirty-three, she had as of yet shown no interest in settling down or producing any grandbabies. She had time, as hobbits have a rather stretched life-span, compared to men. So she was young yet. And Rosa felt that to be happy you needed to find just the right hobbit beaux before leaving your nice hole. She wouldn't rush that, and for Rosa, having Estella leave would be a hard trial. The two were close, and shared many interests. Tella and Rosa Bolger were known all throughout the Shire as creating some of the finest quilts, blankets and hangings ever found. They both found embroidery, tatting, crochet and fine needlework a joy, and spent many an hour creating beautiful designs and choosing just the right threads for any particular job. Baby blankets, funeral shrouds, wedding blankets, dresses and tablecloths. Any fine, or not so fine, occasion going on in the Shire may very well warrant a visit to Rosa and Tella. Though her husband's family took her in as one of their own, Rosa began sewing as a way of making extra pocket money after Odo had died. She lived quite snug and comfortable up in the Bolger Woody Row, as they liked to call it. Mostly the hill housed Odo's brothers, parents, and a few cousins, with some folks in houses down along the back road that linked up with the East running Stock Road headed into Woodhall. While Rosa gave Tella some time before she should begin in earnest to search out a husband, time was nearly up for her son. Fredgar, or Fatty as everyone called him, was getting up on 38 now, and even Rosa who had married at 35 thought perhaps maybe he should be declaring some independence from her apron strings by now. He always laughed off any thought of her suggestions by saying "But mother, why should I let go of your apron strings, when no apron in the Shire has been wiped with better crumbs?" Nearly all hobbits, even male hobbits, were highly skilled and well trained in all manner of cooking, but a visit to Rosa's kitchen was a treat never passed over by Fatty and Tella's friends, relations or even distant acquaintances. But the little Bolger family enjoyed their quiet life, as did most hobbits. Content in the care of the land, satisfied with the beauty of nature, and their own talents. The outside world was strange and far distant. Foreigners and strangers they had just as soon not see, so they took no notice of the passers by, and ignored much news from outside the Shire. For the land kept them fed, and trouble was trifling. In days to come, the summer sun warmed the villages and towns of the Shirefolk as they ran to and fro, spreading the news Estella had learned; the most outrageous news of the sale of Bag End. The only folk seemingly unalarmed by this revelation as it spread across the region, were Frodo himself, and perhaps his visitor Gandalf. And Gandalf was in his own right a reason for gossip, for he was a wizard known for causing trouble (though what trouble most couldn't say), his fantastic fireworks and arriving unexpectedly on a non-regular basis. By all accounts, even Sam Gamgee was shocked at the news of the sale, but quickly quieted his complaints when Frodo insisted that he still be his gardener once a new place was found. As the summer grew, the talk had just about died down when it came out that Frodo was removing all the way out to Crickhollow. This news had all the tiny town of Hobbiton wondering about the famous nephew of "that wealthy Bilbo." Whisperings of the status of his fortunes ran rampant, but the folks in Buckland thought it proper as he was raised up with Brandybucks as a child. It was a nice little house after all, rather small, and isolated, but really quite too close to the Old Forest for anyone but the Brandybucks. Frodo seemed unaware, or not bothered by all this discussion in his behalf. For the early summer he had Gandalf staying at Bag End, but after the wizard's departure, through July and August he kept to himself or with his close friends, selling and giving things away. The summer proved bountiful and pleasant, keeping the larders and stomachs of the hobbits well stocked and fed. As September began, Estella and Marigold Gamgee found themselves recruited to help unburden the laden apple trees, and soon after spending many hours slicing, cooking, drying and bottling apples. At Bolger Woody Row she was even running low on bottles for the bounty of the garden. This year at least, the winter meals would be filled with a variety of the tastes of summer. One particularly hot day in early September, the two friends walked along the banks of The Water outside Hobbiton, cooling their small furry feet in the bubbling of the full summer stream. Marigold, her curly brown hair fastened in a messy bun, hitched her dress up above her knees to prevent it getting wet as they laughed and talked. Estella's blue dress was already rather wet up to her waist, and she didn't bother to hold it up very much, so that the edges rippled with the mild current. She leaned down and splashed a bit of water at her companion and said, "I don't know when I've harvested more apples...tis a good thing we climb trees so well." Marigold laughed and rolled her eyes. "You climb trees much better than I do, Miss Tella, but next time I'll hold the basket and we'll make Sam climb the tree. I don't know when I've been so embarrassed." She was referring to that morning's apple harvest, where nearly half the towns of Hobbiton and Bywater and there about joined at the Orchards to share the work in reaping the bounty of the season. At least seventy industrious hobbits climbed trees, filled bushels and carried them off. Marigold had been climbing a tree and jabbing the upper branches with a pole, causing leaves to fly and apples to shower down on the catchers below. Seeing a nice bunch of apples at the very top of a tree, she had climbed up a bit higher, and rather clumsily fell down a branch dropping her pole, just missing Togogrit Goodbody, and showing off her petticoats to the laughing group of hobbits below. "Oh, Mari, it wasn't so bad, although you did give Togo quite a fright," she laughed. "Really, I don't think anyone got the chance to look up your dress as you moved so fast to hop down." Marigold paused and swished her feet in the cool pebbly bank and glanced up at Estella. "Well, I'd bet my face was redder than the apples on that tree. It's just a good thing my dad wasn't there, I made Sam swear not to tell him, but he'll probably make me clean out the shed again for acting so silly, once the rumor gets to him." "Well, I'll just make him a pie to keep him quiet...does he like apple or apple?" Estella said with a laugh. The two walked up the shore a bit to the long soft grass above the pebbles and sand where they sat under a cluster of trees that guarded the little river. After a few moments listening to the quiet of the river Estella asked, "Have you heard any more from Sam about my cousin Frodo?" She glanced to look into Marigold's blue eyes, which were quickly averted to the water below. "Oh, come now, we're best friends Mari. I know you know more than you're letting on." At this Marigold looked back up at Estella in alarm. "Sam doesn't say much without urging, and he has been really quiet lately," she offered with a quiet halting voice. Estella picked up Marigold's hand and pulled it near her heart. "I know things aren't right. He is moving out of his home, yes, but something else is bothering my cousin. It is as if he bears a grief, or a fear. Like he is waiting for something bad to happen." "I can't rightly say what is bothering Mister Frodo, but you are right that he does seem sadder. I suppose it could be that he has to leave Bag End. Goodness knows any of us would feel badly about that, but lately he and Sam have both clammed up right good. I dare say I'll be surprised if either one of them let me through the door without it being quiet as a grave in there. When I go and collect laundry, or even when I help clean, the both of them just sit there making idle chatter, waiting for me to walk out." Estella scrunched up her forehead in thought and lay back on the grass staring at the wispy clouds. "Maybe that's all they do. Make idle chatter?" She giggled as she turned to look at Marigold. "Maybe I'm just imagining some scandal, then. I wish I was a hobbit-lad. They don't talk too openly to us lasses, but talk openly to each other, I am sure of it. Then I just know I could get it out of him." Marigold lay next to her friend and smiled. "If you were a hobbit-lad, you'd already know by now." Suddenly, the quiet conversation was interrupted by yelling and laughter up the river. Both girls sat up and looked towards the commotion. There, along the water splashed a group of five hobbit-lads, one of whom had been completely soaked through and was emerging dripping from the water. "Speak of one behind his back, and sure as day he's there like that," whispered Estella. "Have you ever seen Togogrit that wet?" A young hobbit wearing a partially un-tucked shirt was proudly standing knee deep in the water, obviously victorious over Togo in some physical play. Both Marigold and Estella dissolved into giggles at the sight. "We'd better keep our voices lower, or that Peregrin Took will come and throw us in the water," Estella warned, putting her hand up to Marigold's mouth. Holding his sides laughing on the grass above the hooting Pippin, as he was called, was Meriadoc Brandybuck, who everyone called Merry due to his happy nature, and behind him was Frodo who was slapping Merry's back at the sight of the soggy Togo. Sam Gamgee however, had good ears and looked up spying the two watchers. "Oops, we're caught...Sam," Marigold hissed as she grabbed Estella's arm, looking up to see Sam headed up the slope towards them. "Well, Hullo there Miss Mari, and Miss Tella," he said as he walked up the grassy hill with a grin. "Have any apples for us?" Marigold and Estella rose, and with her hands on her hips Marigold gave him a glare "Samwise Gamgee, I think you know I've seen enough apples for one day. And I dare say you've had enough yourself," she teased, patting his tummy. Then she gave him a hug, her head only coming up to his shoulders. Frodo came bounding up the hill after noticing Sam. "Hullo Mari, cousin Tella. Tis a good warm day for splashing, I see," he said looking at Estella's wet dress. Suddenly aware of how her dress was clinging to her legs, Estella self-consciously fluffed out her dress in an attempt to let it hang away from her, as she saw Pippin and Merry follow Frodo up the hill, leaving Togo wringing out his shirt. "Well, what have we here? Little sisters, little cousins come to witness Peregrin the Proud, triumphant in besting Togogrit Goodbody in the match of the year?" joked Pippin. "Indeed, I see you have won the match cousin Pippin, though I would guess the slope helped your advantage a bit," retorted Estella. Pippin's eyes sparkled with humor as he said, "Do you think you could defeat me then, Miss Tella?" He jumped forward to grab her, but was stopped short by Sam, who strategically placed his arm on the tree. "Seems my sister already beat you to it, Pippin, even if it wasn't such a grand dunking as Togo's," Sam said. "Well it looks like a few towels are needed up here, indeed," smiled Pippin, looking her up and down. Glancing down at her wet dress, Estella blushed, but replied, "Alas, Mari was wise enough to lift her skirt as we waded earlier, but I was a victim of a slip on a mossy stone." Frodo smiled and remarked, "Now that is a victory the river has had over all of us one time or another I'd guess." "I think I'll just head up for a change of clothes," said a distracted Togo, slowly dripping his way up to the group. "Oh hello," he said, as he noticed the new members of the party. "I am a bit damp I'd say." He smiled showing a large gap in his teeth. "Did you recover from your chance at impaling me this morning Miss Mari?" Marigold blushed and looked at Sam before quietly stammering, "I am sorry about that Togo...it was an accident..." "Indeed, but I'd have done it on purpose!" said Pippin. Giving Pippin a scowl as he walked by Togo tousled Marigold's hair and said, "Oh, you don't fret about it Miss Mari, I won't tell your dad what a hand you have with a spear." He chuckled and headed up to the road towards his house down in Bywater. Marigold gave a funny look at Togo, and attempted to re-adjust her messed curls as the group chortled quietly. "C'mon Mari," said Estella, pulling her hand. "Let's leave these silly hobbit-lads and go finish slicing up those apples to dry out before sundown." Merry looked astonished. "Silly hobbit-lads? Us? Nay, just happy today. The only one silly amongst us is Pip, here." He clutched Pippin in a head-lock and dragged the hollering hobbit several feet. "Seems Merry bested you this time, Pippin," Frodo said with a smile. "You going to give him a dunk?" Merry looked up with a silly grin, "Hmm...are you hot Pippin?" he asked, and began heading towards the water, dragging Pippin protesting and squirming with a laughing Frodo and Sam watching. Marigold and Estella gave each other amused smiles and started on their way, giving Sam a wave. Only Estella turned in time to see both Merry and Pippin fall together in the shallow water laughing and splashing each other. She stifled a laugh and the two went on their way up to Bagshot Row, as Frodo and Sam joined their soggy companions at the bank. The sounds of splashing and laughing slowly faded as the hobbit-lasses followed the grassy path in the direction of Bywater. The sun was heading far into the West when they finished placing out the apple slices on racks at Farmer Cotton's fallow field to dry. Estella had eventually dried off from the warm air and the sunny skies as she brought out more apples to dry throughout the afternoon, and was now warm once more. "Well, I best be off up home, before the sun makes it all the way down," Estella said, lifting her curls off her neck to cool herself. "Thanks for helping out. I'll come to your place tomorrow to help bottle those vegetables after I finish up at the Bracegirdles," said Marigold, plopping herself down on a tree stump. Estella waved, and headed down the hill towards Hobbiton. She pulled an apple out of her apron and munched on it as she began her journey home. It would be an hour at least before she got to the East Road, and full dark before making her way up to the trees outside her home. Picking up her pace she hurried home, deciding to cut through the Peach Orchard to save time, as she didn't have to stop in town. She pulled a few late peaches off and examined them. Keeping a few, she wove between the bushy trees in the softening light of pre-twilight. The scent of the trees was rather strong from the warm of the day, but the long shiny leaves on the ground felt cool as she made her way down the hill. As she approached the East Road, she slowed as she suddenly heard a horse galloping swiftly. She shaded her eyes as the last rays of the setting sun shone bright and low in the West. Out of the brilliance of sunset she spied a lone rider pounding towards the East on a great gray horse. She stood very still behind a row of scrubby bushes at the roadside, watching him pass. He seemed to take no notice, only leaving settling dust in his wake. It was a man with a dark green, nearly black cloak flowing behind him, and the glint of a sword reflected the sun as he rushed by. It was not unheard of to see strangers along the road, but they didn't go by often, and rarely at such speed and urgency. Outside folk almost never stopped in the Shire to break their journey. From what she'd heard, the nearest town on the road those folk stopped at was in Bree, and she'd never been farther than Buckland. She shook her head at such an odd sight, where he had come from in such a hurry, and where he was headed, she doubted she would ever know. Nor did she want to. Looking at the dust rising behind the figure already out of sight, she paused and listened before she crossed the great road, and bounded up the path towards the trees in the distance. * * * "Estella? Tella? Honey, where are you?" called Rosa as she walked down the sunlit tunnels of Number Four Bolger Woody Row. "Oh. There you are." she stopped in her tracks as she entered the large sewing room. "Sorry, mama. Had pins in my mouth." She smiled as she looked up from pinning the hem on a dark green dress. "What did you need?" Rosa smiled and turned back to the tunnel way. "You have a caller." A panicked shock bore across her face as her lashes flew open wide. "A caller?" she whispered, surprise crinkling her brow. Rosa peeked back into the room with a smile. "A caller." Estella walked slowly down the tunnel towards the mid-sized formal living room that was just off the entrance corridor. She heard light talking and wondered, 'Now who could be paying me a visit? I haven't heard any rumors, and Marigold knows them all.' She decided not to be timid and walked forward rather quickly, smacking right into Meriadoc Brandybuck's back. "Oh, hullo, Tella!" He quickly turned with a broad grin, catching her shoulders as she wobbled after her clumsy entrance. An embarrassed smile spread over Estella's face, her dimples deepening and her face flushed a comely pink. "Hullo Merry. Sorry about that, I didn't see you there," she stammered. Rosa looked up from where she was sitting with the light pouring through the window onto the embroidery on her lap, and stifled a laugh with a couple of well placed coughs. Merry, still grinning, waited while she sat on a chair until he sat nearby. "I suppose you're wondering why I came to see you?" "Well, I wasn't exactly expecting you, cousin, but you are always a welcome visitor here," she replied. "I came to ask a bit of help from you and Fatty if I may." Looking at Rosa he quickly added, "If it is all right with you, ma'am?" Rosa was smiling and quietly said, "I suppose it depends on what you ask Master Merry." Merry blushed and with a sheepish grin, ran his hands through his mass of hair resulting in the same tousled look he had arrived in. "Right! Well, I think by now you have heard that your cousin Frodo is selling Bag End?" "Yes, indeed, I heard it from Mari Gamgee. And he has found a place to move to...outside Buckland I believe?" Estella asked, getting her voice back. "Yes, in fact I found a nice place for him. Not too far from Brandy Hall, a nice old getaway place called Crickhollow. It is a very tidy little house that has lovely gardens, and has a sweet view of the river." His eyes sparkled as he spoke, looking rather excited about the whole business. "I came to ask if you and Fatty could help me set up and move him in when all is right and tight. I have made arrangements for some pony carts but I'll need a strong hobbit like Fatty to help me lift things, and if you please, a hobbit with a good eye to arrange them." Estella flushed pink again, but smiled and glanced at her mother who gave her a quick nod. "I'd love to help arrange Frodo's new home, but is he not to be there?" Merry glanced at the floor and up again shifting in his chair. "Well, Frodo, Pip and Sam are going to walk from Bag End, which will give us time to make things ready. Frodo wants to enjoy the early fall weather, and it is a fine walk across pretty country that he intends to bid farewell, as he will spend most his time now in Buckland, it seems." "He always has been a good walker, that Frodo," Estella commented. Seeing Merry's odd expression she added, "He often comes through here to Woody End just for a bit of exercise." Rose broke the silence that lingered after Estella's observation. "What day will you need Fatty and Tella to help cousin Frodo to pack? I imagine he has a few more packers over near him already." "Yes, well, we are planning on packing up most things ready to go on the 20th." "That's next week, but it should be fine. Fatty and I could come down earlier, if you need more help packing that is," Estella offered. "That would be quite helpful actually. Frodo is selling a few things, but most of it will have to go. And then just keeping Lobelia at bay has already been a challenge." Merry rose. "I need to be along down to see your Uncle Filibert down the Stock road about some boxes he said he'd lend us." Rising quickly and crossing to the entrance of the kitchen, Estella held up her hand and said, "Wait just a minute there, Merry Brandybuck. Don't think you can leave without a bit of refreshment to help you on your way." She smiled and Merry beamed expectantly, shifting on his feet in the doorway as he watched her fill a small cloth satchel with some butter rolls, plums and a few apple tarts. He slid to the doorway with a grateful smile, as he backed out thanking them and nearly tripping on the little step just outside the door. "We'll see you soon," Estella said as Merry turned and waved. Then he headed up the little pathway leading to the Stock road already munching on a tart. Walking back inside Estella noticed a gleam in her mother's eye, as she still sat working on a daisy that ran along the edge of a half finished tablecloth. "Mother! A caller indeed - getting me all flustered just for Merry Brandybuck!" "Oh, well, I was having a bit of fun with you, but Merry is a nice fellow, and a Brandybuck would be a fine catch." Rose smiled pulling a thick blue floss through the fabric and biting off the end with her teeth. "Besides, you didn't exactly remain un-flustered during his visit. And that is always a good sign." "Really! Merry? He used to pull my hair at the fair and he and Pippin chased Marigold and I with that disgusting snake until we both fell into the pond," she responded with her arms folded. "That was years ago! And what would mothers do if they didn't have daughters to fluster up? I am glad you and Fatty can help poor Frodo pack up though. The dear boy, I don't know if the rumors are true, but if he is indeed lost all that Baggins money, he'll be needing the support of his family. He has always been a nice one, that Frodo." "I think I'll get Marigold to help me at least pack. She is very precise how she folds clothes and things. It will make it easier if she helps with that," Estella thought out loud. "Indeed. Though I imagine she won't accompany you to Crickhollow, being as she does all that laundry for the Boffins and the Bracegirdles. Perhaps you should send a card up to Brandy Hall and arrange to stay there a night or two, while you help settle things there. Hobbit-lads never know how to really organize and clean things up, you know. It is good Merry asked you to help them. He knows a hobbit with taste when he sees one." Estella snickered softly and rolled her eyes at her mother's flattery as she crossed to the small writing desk in the back of the room. "I don't know about how much taste Frodo really is in need of, but you're right about one thing. I am sure it will take longer than even the head start we'll have on the walkers. I'll write Celandine and see if I can stay with her." After running her note down to the messenger up the Stock Road, Estella made her way slowly back home through the wooded paths that led up the back way home. The sky was still warm and offered a pinkish hue, but the sun had set and the crickets' chirping slowed as the shade of evening came on. She loved this time of day, when the forest was settling down to a quiet stillness watching the heavens come alive. She knew she had to finish up a wedding veil for Amanda Took by morning so she quickened her pace. Just as she rounded the bend, the hair on her neck stood up as she heard a rustling behind her. She slowed and listened and had begun to turn and investigate when she felt two hands grab her sides and a voice exclaimed, "HAA!" She squealed and turned to see her brother's grinning face two inches from her own. "Did I scare you?" Fatty asked. Flustered and pushing him away, she laughed at his trick. "Yes, you fiend! What mean you by pouncing on an unsuspecting hobbit-lass?" she protested. "Sorry, sister. You know I just can't stand going a whole day without doing something brotherly, now," he joked as he flipped an apple up in the air towards her. She caught it and took a bite and munched as he regaled her on his latest project building a new cart for Farmer Greenhand over in Three Farthing Stone. Then he nearly stopped in his tracks and he looked at her with a grin. "Tella? Did Merry Brandybuck visit you today?" Estella was glad for the darkening evening as she suppressed the smile that crept to her lips. "Actually he did. He wants us to help Frodo move out next week. I was just sending a note up to Celandine," she said through bites of apple. He clapped his hands and gave her a quick squeeze. "So you said yes? Mama will let you come help out then?" "Yes, I am sure to have my work cut out for me with all you rascals to help get organized," she said. The siblings rounded a bend to see the windows of Woody Bolger Row glowing and sending streams of light, which spilled warmly out onto the steps and windowsills in the early darkness of evening. They could hear Rosa singing a merry tune as they climbed the few steps to enter within, arriving just in time for a good hobbit dinner. back to top  Chapter 2: Of Boxes and Scrub Brushes The third week in September was as pleasant and warm as could be expected for such a place as the Shire. Gardens were ripe with much bounty and the folk of the Shire were busy while the sun shone bright. But no harvest work awaited the two hobbits outside Number Four at the dawning of this day. The early morning birds twittered and sang as Fatty and Estella put two small bags and two covered baskets into the empty pony cart and waved to their mother. "Be sure to dust that place out for cousin Frodo, Tella. You know how hobbit-lads are about keeping things really clean," Rosa said as Fatty helped Estella climb up on the seat of the cart. "Yes, mama, I am sure to clean up before they get there," she said with a wave. "The Gaffer has said that Mari can come with us, so things will be really clean after all." Fatty, who had just finished checking on the pony, climbed up and started them off. Rosa nodded, knowing all would be well if Marigold Gamgee was involved, there was probably no cleaner hobbit in Hobbiton, or perhaps even the Shire. As they rode down the little back road that led to the Great East Road, Fatty munched on a pastry, still steaming from the oven. "Do you think three carts are enough for them?" he asked. "I don't know, it is hard to tell with furniture," she remarked. "But it will have to do. Cousin Frodo can't be bringing too much to his new place if it is as small as they say." The leaves fluttered and whispered in the morning breeze, and though it would be a warm day, Estella shivered in her green cloak. Fatty gave her a squeeze. "You cold, little sister?" he asked with a grin. "All you need is a good protective layer like me, and you'd be fine. How do you expect to stay warm being as thin as you are for a hobbit? You need to eat some more pastries to attract a husband." "I think you mean, I need to know how to cook pastries to attract a husband," she said with a laugh, "and I do that just fine." She was not thin, by any standard, but compared to her brother she was rather slender indeed. He laughed and clucked at the pony to move forward a little faster and they continued through the trees for a while, enjoying the sounds of morning. Soon their path widened and looked more like a road than simply two cart marks amidst the grass. The trees began to thin, and they came out into the open hills above the Great East Road. As they progressed down the hill they both looked East and saw the birth of the day, emerging in a pink orange glow behind wisps of clouds. "Oh, now that is a pretty sight," said Estella, gazing at the sunrise, glad for its warmth on her face. "That it is Tella, though it means we are a bit behind. We should be already at Bywater by now, and here we are at the East Road. Giddup," he urged the pony on, as they crossed the East Road and up the road to Hobbiton. Already the farmers and gardeners were out with the sun working on the harvest and weeding, making most of the day. The pony cart continued up the road and going through Bywater they saw a cart come off a side street and pull up beside them. "Fatty, Estella! Good morning to you," came the cheery voice of Pippin Took. "You're looking a bit dryer this morning than last I saw you, Miss Estella." "And you as well, cousin. As I recall you and Merry were wetter than I," she happily remarked. "But I am glad to see we are right on time." Pippin burst out laughing, "Right on time indeed. I doubt Frodo has dressed yet, I believe he spent some time at the Green Dragon last night. Perhaps we can roust him out and get a bit of second breakfast here soon." The carts worked their way up towards Hobbiton and Bag End, with a bit of happy chatting between the two until the road narrowed and Pippin pulled his pony ahead of the Bolgers with a laugh and they headed up the Hill. They stopped at the top where the fine door of Bag End opened out with Sam and Marigold coming out to greet them and a dressed Frodo with a cup in his hand behind. "Ah, there, Pippin. He is dressed," remarked Fatty."You owe me a drink already." "He must have heard me complaining, and knew I'd make a wager and did it just for spite," said Pippin with a silly scowl as he unhitched his Pony. While Fatty followed suit, Estella pulled her bag and the basket out of the back of the cart. "I brought some strawberries from Tuckburrow down for our labors," she said, as she bore the large basket up the steps until Frodo took it from her hands. "Thank you cousin Tella, glad to see they still have some that way," he said, peeking under the cloth to see the ripened berries. "Ours are all past, and gone." "Aunt Azalea had a lot left over from their picking party, and sent them over. We still have several baskets at home that mama is putting up as jam this week," she said. "You're staying with Mari tonight I suppose? I'll just take that down for you, and we can get started." Sam took her bag with a nod and headed down to Bagshot Row. "Thanks Sam," she said; and she and Mari followed Frodo into Bag End. Already boxes were all over the place, and furniture moved around. She hung up her cloak on the peg and asked, "So Frodo, where do we start?" "Well, I have Marigold working on my clothes and things as she is so good at folding, but I need a little help with my books still," he said, leading her past the kitchen to a study with several shelves that had been emptied out onto the floor, in an apparent accident. "We tried to move the shelf before unloading it," he smiled. "It didn't work very well. It was Merry's idea," he said with a twinkle in his eye as Merry walked through the room with a large box. "'Twas not!" he argued, huffing as he shifted the heavy load in his arms. "I just helped try out Pip's idea and, of course, it didn't work...just like I told him." His grin faded to a grimace as he grunted and shuffled out the door with the box. She stifled a laugh and began picking up books and papers and sorting them neatly in little stacks inside crates stacked high by the door. The morning passed quickly as she filled the boxes with items from the room. The room seemed empty and sad as the full boxes vanished with passing hobbits and new crates appeared to hold the remaining lonely bits she had not found room for before. Dust from long hidden corners danced in the air and Estella stood and stretched her legs, cramped from kneeling and sorting. She sighed and wiped down the windowsill with a dusty rag. She was a little sad to see Frodo go. Bag End was long in her memories as a place of the fabulous Bilbo Baggins, and his wondrous tales and stories. The room in which she stood had at one time heard the scribblings of Bilbo as he wrote of his adventures. And the stories themselves had echoed off these very walls as little hobbit eyes watched him recount them with rapt attention. Her eyes. Long hours of play with friends outside, and quick hours of stories had kept her busy for many a summer. It seemed only yesterday, that she had been a wee lass, and not long at all those years ago when Bilbo had his Eleventy-first Birthday party and had vanished...yes vanished altogether! She was only 16 then, it amazed her how time had flown and how much had changed from that sparkling night when all was pleasant, delicious and even magical. Her reverie was broken as Frodo invited her to Second Breakfast with a smile. He was still as happy as ever, but she thought for a moment she saw a little sadness in his eyes as well, looking in at the barren study. The little crew of hobbits had worked hard, and there was silence as they began their mid morning meal. But it seemed that they all enjoyed the little rest, and the second breakfast even more. Hobbits work better with regular meals, and are in top form with snacks in between. After filling their stomachs, they began to fill the carts with Frodo's belongings. By tea one cart was packed up tightly and ready to go, and by dinner-time a second cart was fast approaching full. The group of packers were tired and slightly daunted by the still numerous things that needed packing up, but Merry and Pippin had enough energy to debate whether or not three carts would be enough after all. Marigold joined Estella and Frodo in the kitchen as they finished up the last preparations for an overdue dinner. The meal was precisely what was needed as it raised the spirits of all involved. The parlor had stacks of boxes half packed, and the furniture was missing but the little group rested by the hearth and told stories about Bag End. Estella found herself gazing into the sparkling eyes Merry as he regaled them with the stories of past triumphs over Farmer Maggot, with Pippin interjecting with much glee. Folco sang a few songs, and several partial songs--which he suddenly stopped singing mid way through after remembering the words and noting the mixed company. Both Merry and Pippin found this amusingly entertaining and made silly noises as they attempted to stifle their laughter. Sam asked for stories of the Elves, and Marigold and Estella listened with nearly as much wonder as Frodo spoke of Elves and Dwarves that had visited the Shire, and even repeated a few poems in an odd tongue, which he claimed to be Elvish. This was a topic of debate, as Togo had decided that even if Frodo had learnt Elvish from a book, or writing, he couldn't possibly be pronouncing those strange words correctly. Merry reminded Togo that Frodo had a good teacher in Bilbo, and having met Elves in person he was probably more correct at Elvish than anyone in the room. The laughter and conversation lulled after some time, and Frodo stood and stretched. "We have done the work of many today. Let us start again tomorrow, well rested." Marigold and Estella rose and collected the dessert plates and dishes to wash, and Folco and Togo took their leave for the evening. Frodo, Merry, and Pippin, joined Sam and Fatty who had already disappeared to the grass outside to smoke and watch the stars. Marigold yawned after cleaning up and she asked, "What say you Tella? Shall we head down to sleep? I am tired as harvest day." "Yes, Mari it has been a busy day," replied Estella. "And if we head out towards Buckland on the morrow, it will be a longer one a night from now." The two headed out the door and down the steps in front of Bag End as they began to walk down the path to Number Three on Bagshot Row. Frodo and his companions thanked them both several times between puffs of smoke. The stars twinkled nicely above as Estella and Marigold entered the round door, worn with age but polished with the passing of many years. It was a small place, and rather simple. The floors were earthen, the walls, while lined with paneling, had several spots where roots wove a netted pattern that reflected the low fire that burned in the small kitchen and living area. Though humble, it was tidy and organized, and simply decorated with good solid furniture. It only had the one window that looked out, but several rooms on either side of a decent sized tunnel way were casting a glow showing the way. Estella had spent many nights at the Gamgees, especially as a child. The summer her father died, she practically lived there, running wild with her cousins and friends in Hobbiton as her mother struggled to deal with his death. This snug hole had a warm place in her heart, and the smell of it made her feel loved. She followed Marigold down two doors to the left. The little room Marigold had shared with her elder sisters as a child, was now strangely vast with just Marigold's things around. There were two spare beds, but they looked small and lonely, made up tightly with no regular use. Estella sat down and touched the worn embroidered pillow on one of the beds. "I remember May teaching me this stitch," she said wistfully. "That seems so long ago...yet just yesterday." "You were her favorite to teach, you know?" Estella smiled and nodded. Always nimble with the needle Estella had enjoyed every opportunity to learn about sewing. Her mother, of course, had taught her most of what she knew, but there were so many variations and styles of embroidery that she had learned early to seek out her elder seamstresses and absorb their tricks. The two quietly talked for a while though, whispering stories of the past and dreams of the future until they both heard a familiar voice and a slow step in the hall. "Young lasses, 'tis time for sleeping not for talking. Get ye ta bed now," said the Gaffer as he shuffled down to his room, the smell of pipe weed lingering as he passed. The two girls stifled their giggles, feeling like young girls again being chastised thus, though it was just the Gaffer's way of saying good night. "You too, Samwise," the Gaffer's muffled voice came once more, bringing another set of feet down the hall, and past them into silence. The two smiled at each other as Marigold blew out the candle and a quiet darkness came over Bagshot Row. The two slept well, Estella felt as if she was again a child that night, waking rested and happy, sweet dreams lingering just beyond her memory. The morning dawned bright, and as Estella rose she found Marigold already up. The two cheerily had breakfast with the Gaffer, and sang morning songs on the way to Bag End. "Good Morning cousins," said Estella. Pippin, Merry and Frodo were already out packing up the second cart tightly. "Yes it is a good morning," said Frodo. "I expect we can send off the most of it this morning." "I've made all the arrangements," Merry said matter-of-factly from atop the cart he was shifting boxes around on. "These two carts can go as soon as they're ready. I have young Tom Cotton and Togo Goodbody to help drive and unload. And you lasses to make things right up at the new place?" "Indeed, we're ready to go cousin," and Estella paused and smirked before quietly adding, "But how did we get so lucky to be sent with Togo and not with you or Fatty?" Merry's eyes sparkled with amusement as he hopped down from the cart and leaned close to her with wide eyes, whispering, "Well, Miss Tella you must endure hard things sometimes to appreciate the good ones." He held her gaze rather long and his smile softened before he winked and turned away. Estella felt her face flush and found herself facing the bemused looks of Pippin, Frodo and Marigold as Merry vanished behind the cart chuckling softly. She laughed nervously to herself and ran her fingers through her hair before she turned and dashed up to Bag End mumbling quickly that she needed to finish up packing the extra sheets and towels she missed yesterday. The morning was filled with movement and packing, and the carts were ready before Second Breakfast. The four hobbits climbed up on the pony carts and headed off. Marigold rode with Tom and Estella rode with Togo, much to her dissatisfaction. She would have much rather gone with Tom, as he was a better conversationalist, but she had more than an inkling about Marigold being too embarrassed to ride along with Togo. As it turned out, Marigold seemed to enjoy visiting with Tom and the hours went by quickly for her. As for Estella, she did her best with Togo at her side. She conveniently remembered a bit of crochet that she needed to do, but had to endure many retold stories and ridiculous jokes as they made their way to Buckland. They stopped in Frogmorton and Whitfurrows to eat and rest, but continued into the darkness and got to the Brandywine Bridge at full dark. Luckily, the night was clear and the moon bright. The air was not cold, but breezy as they turned South after the bridge, watching the fog rise from the water. Estella pulled her cloak about her as she listened to the quiet creatures begin their singing of the night. The ponies made it all the way to Brandy Hall, and the exhausted hobbits all were glad to get down from the carts and walk about a bit under the rustling trees that lined the approach to the Hall. They were all ready for rest and Tom quickly unhitched the ponies and gladly handed them off to a stable boy. Celandine Brandybuck, had been watching out the North windows most the afternoon and had sent out youngsters to alert her when the carts crossed the river. She welcomed them now with hugs and laughter as they arrived on the main patio. She called out to her brother, Ilberic. A round, ruddy-faced but jolly hobbit joined them and Togo and Tom disappeared off into a corridor. Brandy Hall was what hobbits called a smial, or a residential hole, but of massive proportions. It was a mansion of tunnels, burrowed long and branching wide into the side of Buck Hill. Many windows and doors dotted the side of the hill facing the water, and multiple levels of windows peeked out South and North of the hill. There the great sloping sides and paths were adorned with many beautiful gardens and very carefully sculpted bushes, bright with flowers and colorful leaves. The most of the Brandybuck family lived in the Hall, and tunnel-ways were full of the soft foot-falls of feet and chatter of many children. The center sections housed several great rooms, some with many long tables for dining, and others with multiple comfortable chairs and couches settled next to massive hearths. The three made their way to the South wing of Brandy Hall, winding along the polished wood floors of a main tunnel-way as Celandine chattered excitedly. "All the way from Bag End with those carts, you must be wearied and not only from the ride, but Estella, your endurance for Togo astounds me! I wonder how you restrained yourself from trading with Marigold," said Celandine. "Tella is too kind, she knows how I quail at conversation with Togo, nice as he is. Tom was much more friendly and quiet," said Marigold with a half-smile. "Oh Mari! You know I would have pestered you and traded seats at least half way through had it not been for the pretty blush you had on your cheeks the whole way over. Tom seems to be fair of face with you at his side," teased Estella. Marigold blushed and laughed. They followed smaller tunnels and climbed up some stairs to a hallway that spanned the upper portion of the South facing windows of Brandy Hall. There a small room was prepared, candles burning and fresh bedding and linens sat invitingly to the tired hobbits. Celandine, being the dutiful hostess, brought them an evening snack of some fresh bread and butter, a pitcher of creamy milk and slices of summer melons. They all laughed and talked over their late supper and soon they were full and quite tired. The room they settled into had two beds separated by only a small bedside table which was situated underneath a small round window. After Celandine left them, the two friends talked about the various conversations of the ride over, giggling at the antics and jokes of Togo. Estella lay on her stomach and looked at her friend with a grin. "Mari, I think you really fancy Tom Cotton." Marigold blushed again, and smiled. "Well, to you I'll admit that I like him quite a lot. He makes me feel good inside, and I like being with him." "Well, maybe we should force you two together a bit more?" said Estella with a wicked grin." I think Tom may just be required to help out handing you bottles and fruit for the larder tomorrow, eh? Nice close quarters there?" she giggled. "That is one assignment I will happily take on," chuckled Marigold. Then she quieted and her smile faded. "I don't dare say anything to anyone but you Tella, but Sam gets all flushed when I talk about the Cottons, he has an eye on Rosie." Lowering her voice with a smile she whispered, "And I think Rosie has an eye on Sam. It is strange, I think he feels not ready though, like he can't commit yet. I can't quite figure it out, as he has a good job now with Mr. Frodo, and 'tis not like he is a young lad." "Goodness, I have seen that! But, maybe he's just shy and nervous." said Estella. "Poor Sam, he is easy to tease about girls, always has been. But you don't think the Gaffer would object to their match?" "I don't think to Rosie, but maybe to Tom." she said with a sigh. "Surely not?" protested Estella. "Well, he still thinks of me as a wee hobbit-lass. I am the baby after all. He treats me like a child, and can't believe I'm past old enough for having babies already. I am 35 already, and never been kissed!" giggled Marigold. "Well, lets just see what we can do about that then. You get to spend a lot of time with Tom on the morrow and so you best get some rest. Want to look your best," joked Estella, reaching over to turn down the bed. "But really, Mari, I think your mama would've liked Tom and you, and she was already a mama by your age, and mine." "Aye, that she was! But then there is dear Estella now...what about her?" Marigold feigned deep thought, her hand on her chin. "Any young hobbit-master strike your fancy?" she asked, peering at her with eyes dancing with laughter. Estella blushed, and laughed, "Well, none that seem interested anyway! I've liked plenty of nice young hobbits, but nothing ever seems to come of it. I guess I just haven't found one that I picture as the papa of my babies yet. I want someone who will keep our family safe, and cared for. Not one of those boys that just sleep and rest and puff a pipe, but one who isn't afraid of work and play. I guess it'd be nice if he was handsome too." "Ah, the ideal hobbit, then? Can I just get one that looks good on a hot summer day in the garden?" laughed Marigold. She paused and seemed to be weighing her words as she barely checked a smile, "I'd have said that Master Merry gave you a few looks this morning." Estella's eyes grew wide and she flushed a deep pink, "Merry! Oh goodness sakes! He's a coy one and a teaser, but I don't think he wants more from me than the chance to get some of my cooking." "Of course, that's what they all want." Marigold said with a teasing grin. "But, I don't think you'd blush like that if there was nothing more than a request for a fancy meal when he whispered to you this morning." "Oh stop!" giggled Estella. "Merry's a good lad, but I can't imagine he's thinking about much more than snatching mushrooms and thinking of ways to fix them." She shook her head and blew out the candle nearest her, dimming the room considerably. "We best be to sleep now! Who knows what a mess this Crickhollow may be, if it hasn't been lived in for a while." Marigold nodded with a grin and blew out her candle, knowing that not only would she be thinking of a particular hobbit lad as she rested, but perhaps her friend would be thinking of one too. And though Estella was tired, she lay in her bed awake for some time, wondering about the words of Meriadoc Brandybuck that still rang in her ears, and tried to forget the twinkling eyes that smiled at her just that morning. The night passed swiftly and the hobbit lasses rose early, anxious to see just how much work this new little house for Frodo would be. As it turned out, the Brandybucks had been very involved in the sale of Crickhollow and the place looked very tidy and clean when the two ponies pulled off the lane up the short drive. Riding through an opening in a thick hedge the little place looked rather grand surrounded by a well-kept lawn. Even the gardens had been looked after, though they needed a good weeding. The sun was hot as they began to unload the carts. Marigold had remembered not only to pack rags, buckets, mops and scrubbing brushes but she had the stroke of genius to keep that box at the very back and top of one of the carts. So the first thing that came off was the cleaning box. Estella and Marigold had their hair tied back in scarves, and donned cleaning aprons. Togo and Tom unloaded, but were strictly forbidden to enter the house, even with the furniture, until the cleaning was complete. They worked quickly, and efficiently, dusting away wispy cobwebs, scrubbing grime in the window corners that had been overlooked, polishing doorknobs, and washing walls. Finally by midday Estella and Marigold, flushed with the hard work, came outside for a rest on the grass finding Togo and Tom smoking and talking having finished unloading the furniture onto the lawn. Tom had just brought over a basket of food and was unsuccessfully trying to untie the cloth that was holding his lunch. Togo looked up and after a puff of smoke and a grin said, "So is it presentable yet? Tom and I were just getting a bit hungry." "So when is that new?" Estella smirked at Togo, before she wiped her brow with her sleeve and sat down in the shade of the tree. She took the basket from Tom and easily untied the material and started taking things out of the basket. They had some bread, and rather soft butter, but the cheese was hard and sharp and the pears were firm and juicy. Marigold sliced some summer sausage into thin strips and the carrots in half. The four hobbits quietly ate, having had a busy morning, but the breeze and food soon made them feel fine, and they lay for a while on the grass as the shade grew with the sun's movement. "Well, we best get to the floors Mari," said Estella, noticing the sighs from Tom and Togo she added, "They're the last thing to do, and then you can start bringing the furniture in. You two can take a peek at that garden; it looks like it needs a few weeds pulled." The two nodded and headed to the gardens as Marigold and Estella began filling buckets with water and white vinegar. As the floors began to shine with the scrubbing and they moved throughout the house the girls sang a cleaning song. Many songs and rhymes were popular with hobbits, and the ones most heard were sung in taverns and halls, but the songs this day, though the tunes rang familiar, were mostly sung by the female part of the Shire. There are many such songs, but Estella started humming in tempo with her mopping and soon they both sang in a chanting untrained rhythm. Only 'cause mother told me so. Up the chimney and down the stair, No dirt left in ripe spring air. Rag may brown with wear and dirt, Just watch you keep it off your skirt. Why say you? It is cleaning day. For a nice young lad may call today. Wash the dish, and cup and plate, Knock out webs caught in the gate. Mama taught to clean with care, No dust rests in summer air. Wipe the mantle, dust the shelf Polish glass up to see yourself. Why look there, 'tis working day? For a nice young lad may call today. Find a rake and sweep the grass Lock up harvest under glass Store the bounty up with care. Fill larder full in autumn air. Scrub the blouse and press the shirt Fold the cloth and hem the skirt. Why sew up holes on mending day? For a nice young lad may call today. Tie the quilt and fix the hat, Weave a new foot wiping mat. Sweep the steps and walk with care, Sprinkle salt for winter air. Tuck the beds and build the fire, Scoop the soot and watch the pyre. Don't let it smudge or smear you say? For a nice young lad may call today. The two returned outside opening the front and back doors for the breeze to dry the floors and sat on the steps, guarding the entry until they were sure of the floor's lack of moisture. The hardest part of they day had passed for them, and now Togo and Tom began to move furniture and boxes one by one into the little house. There was much discussion on where exactly to put each piece, and after several rearrangements of a particularly heavy bench an exasperated Togo burst out, "Tella! Just tell me the once and I'll put it there, but I'll not be moving each piece ten times!" To this they all started laughing and Estella and Marigold began to conspiratorially decide where things should go while the hobbit-lads went out for the next piece. The sun began to sink far across the Shire in the West, and only the big pieces of furniture had been settled. Exhausted the group pushed all the boxes in stacks by the doors and simply shut the doors and headed back down to Brandy Hall. The night began pleasantly with a good meal after which Estella and Marigold walked down to sit on the grass overlooking the Brandywine River. It rushed on in a whispering flow and reflected the last bits of the glow of the day. The two talked quietly as they watched the first stars twinkle out and begin to burn in the sky. Slowly the night created a black canvas on which bright gems sparkled out stories and lore of many generations. They were glad of the nice air, and listened as the frogs in the damp grasses below sang and filled the air with a comforting chorus. The moon began to rise behind them and the two returned indoors, eager to retire for the evening. back to top Chapter 3: Unexpected Gifts The morning of Frodo's Birthday arrived, though no celebrations were planned in Buckland. The news that Verdelda Burrows had her fourth child in the night reached them at breakfast, and all of Brandy Hall was talking of it. "Poor Verd, another girl for her," Celandine said through bites of breakfast. "She'll have to try again to please that Daradoc, he was disappointed when she had the third one." Marigold sat across from her with a buttered slice of toast in hand. "Ah, but he should be happy! Girls may not work the field as well as he wanted, but he'll always have a clean shirt, and a hot meal." Estella looked up from her plate of eggs and laughed. "And someone to fuss over him." The three laughed together, for it was well known that Verdelda both pampered and pestered her husband to excess. Estella sipped at her cup thoughtfully before she said, "I am nearly done with the little baby quilt I was working on during the drive over. Perhaps we should rest a bit this morning while I finish it, before heading up to Crickhollow again?" "Indeed, a fine plan, Tella. I could use the time to send off a note to my Gaffer, he is always fretting if I am away for more than a day," said Marigold. For much of the morning they sat together in the main hall, Marigold composing her letter and Estella crocheting quietly as hobbit ladies moved in and out, chatting and collecting little gifts for the new daughter of the town. Wisps of conversation passed by their ears in the comings and goings of the busy Hall. While much of the local gossip Estella didn't know too much about, it all sounded familiar. Young lads in trouble, cows wandering, foxes paying a visit to the hen house, and mothers pondering the possible love matches of their daughters. By mid-morning the blanket was finished and tied up with a soft ribbon. She handed it to Hilda Brandybuck, who was adding the final items to the basket intended for the new mother. "Oh, my dear it is so lovely," Hilda patted her on the arm. "Verdelda will be so thrilled to have a blanket from your fine hand. How tiny and delicate it is," she said as she positively beamed, inspecting the fabric. She showed the crochet work to Esmerelda, who had just arrived with a warm loaf of bread from the kitchen. Estella smiled and managed to leave with only a few minutes more of conversation. After lunch the four "movers" re-grouped and walked up to Crickhollow to begin unpacking in earnest. Estella set to organizing Frodo's new cabinets and drawers as best she could, not remembering exactly what had been left behind. She found the little place comfortable, and while it was missing a few things that hadn't arrived and could use a few new hangings, the furniture from Bag End gave it a homelike feel right away. Surprisingly, the moldings seemed to perfectly match the furniture, and the little shelves and nooks had plenty of room for the various decorating knickknacks she'd put away three days before. The remainder of the day saw all the crates unloaded and their contents snug in their new home. The sun was setting as Tom brought out the last empty box and stacked it in the carts. The breeze felt soft as the foursome walked down to dinner at Brandy Hall; all of them glad that the most of the work was behind them. It was now only for them to wait for Merry and Fatty to bring up the last load. The following day, Togo and Tom were recruited to help out Farmer Maggot across the river with his harvest. Their work done at Crickhollow for the present, Marigold and Estella paid a visit to some friends and relations and dropped in at Verdelda Burrows with a fresh pie and to get a peek at the baby. They spent the afternoon walking the village square. It was market day in Bucklebury and the carts lined the main road laden with goods. The shop fronts were all open selling their wares and services and hobbits of all kinds bustled about. Armed with two baskets and a shoulder satchel, Marigold and Estella began collecting fresh food and supplies for Crickhollow with the pocket money Merry had provided. They paused to see the wares of a tailor shop, and watched the work of the smithy as they soaked up the Autumn sun. They sniffed at the fruit, and pinched the vegetables, carefully selecting their choices from multiple vendors. After some time, they felt satisfied that the pantry would not look completely empty, and the next decision was to decide just what to test out first in Frodo's new stove. They headed up the lane to Crickhollow with heavy baskets resting on their hips, laughing and singing songs. It was getting close to evening when they arrived, and kindled a fire in the kitchen. They stored the supplies neatly, and began to prepare for a small dinner. Estella fried up some onions and sausages and poured a batter over them making a hearty cake. A soup was on to simmer and she rolled out dough for biscuits on the flour-dusted countertop. She began to sing a silly baking song, laughing as Marigold joined her in harmony. Marigold sliced mushrooms in rhythm with regular clunks as Estella dipped each bit of dough in butter. I'm pattin up a pie for my love. He's coming up the lane, My heart will never be the same, So I'm pattin up a pie for my love, my love. He likes my apple pie, but the apples are all gone So I'll find a bunch of berries from the bush. But the thorns they got me good, And my fire's missing wood, So the wind just blew it out with a whoosh! Oh, I'm pattin up a pie for my love, for my love. I'm pattin up a pie for my love. He's coming up the lane, My heart will never be the same, So I'm pattin up a pie for my love, my love. I rekindled the fire, but caught my apron too, So I dumped out all the basin on my lap. I'm an ashy soggy mess, And I ruined my new dress If he saw me now I'd blush like I'd a slap! Oh, I'm pattin up a pie for my love, for my love. I'm pattin up a pie for my love. He's coming up the lane, My heart will never be the same, So I'm pattin up a pie for my love, my love. I reached for the flour to make up a crust, But I knocked it on my head to my dismay, Now I'm dusted head to toe, Love walked in wouldn't you know, And caught me in a burnt, wet, white array. After singing several verses they heard a deep melodic voice join them from outside. They both stopped and looked at each other with wide eyes as the voice finished out the final chorus and the door burst open. Merry Brandybuck stood in the doorway with a smile, and Fatty was laughing as he came up the path behind him. Marigold and Estella hooted with delight at the arrival of Fatty, Merry and the last pony cart from Bag End. "I know that song! Mama sang it all the time. It made me laugh, probably because I imagined her soggy, burnt and covered in flour! I see you've been busy?" said Merry, taking off his cloak and finding a peg by the door. "Hullo! And come in, Merry, Fatty!" Estella wiped her hands on her apron and held open the door with a grin. The newcomers received warm hugs and were ushered into the kitchen. "What timing you have!" Estella exclaimed, putting the butter biscuits in to bake. "Dinner will be ready soon." "Oh, that was deliberate, sister." Fatty smiled as he pinched her cheek, and Merry nodded. "We decided if our choices were between driving faster and getting your cooking, and taking our time and enduring my Mother's handiwork, we had best hurry," Merry said with a smirk. "Merry Brandybuck, you naughty hobbit! Your mother will scold you fierce if she heard you," Estella exclaimed with a snicker. "But she won't be hearing me, now will she, sweet Tella?" Merry winked, and Fatty laughed as he reached for a plum. Estella flushed and met his teasing gaze. "Not from me, but surely you should have at least stopped by Brandy Hall before coming up here." "We should have," Merry nodded, feigning solemnity, "But Fatty here was hungry so he kept on going, despite my protests." A wry grin broke out on his face and Estella knew he was simply goading her now. She wrinkled her brow into a mock glare at the two hobbits. "You two wash up. Dinner will be ready when you return." They both chuckled and made their way to the bathroom where fresh water waited in clean basins. Marigold and Estella brought over the steaming pots and fresh bread, setting plates and utensils out. Cups filled with ale were just being sat upon the table when Fatty and Merry returned, fresh faced and eager for dinner. The meal was a cheery one, as they talked of the happenings of the past few days, the journeys, and the doings in the town. Merry told of the little birthday party the day before, and the funny dances and songs they'd watched Pippin perform after the group polished off the last of the wine at Bag End. Marigold and Estella laughed at the tales, and dished up several servings to the hungry hobbit lads. The two, and especially Fatty, took great pleasure in the generous hobbit cooking, and a soothing drink. The evening turned to darkness, and the four fought for the space by the sink to clean up. Estella and Marigold finally relented and tidied the main room while Fatty washed and Merry dried the dishes. The four walked out to the garden, and sat on the fresh grass watching the bright stars rise over the Shire below them. The air was fresh and cool, and the smoke from Merry and Fatty's pipes drifted in small rings into the dark. "So Miss Estella, you haven't told us how you endured Togo? Where did Tom and he get off to anyway?" asked Merry. "Down at Farmer Maggots with the farm hands, helping with harvest," said Estella. "And a good thing too, I don't think I could abide another day of his tales." They all chuckled, but after a few moments all was quiet as they took in the night. Estella broke the silence when she remembered the other news she'd forgotten earlier, "Oh! Verdelda Burrows had another girl." "Really? I thought for sure a boy this time, with Daradoc's good luck charms and all." said Merry. "Well as long as the babe looks like her mother, and not her father, the Shire will remain a fair place," joked Fatty. The little group continued to talk quietly as the night grew deep. Estella and Marigold decided to stay at Crickhollow with Fatty and Merry that night, as the bedding had now all arrived from Bag End, and the walk down to Brandy Hall seemed far. The night passed peacefully and quiet, and the hobbits were awakened by the sounds of little sparrows singing outside in the trees. Marigold left when the day was young, as she was expected back in Hobbiton. The Bracegirdle's laundry was piling up, much to her chagrin. But to her delight and surprise, Tom Cotton had been asked by the Gaffer himself to convey her back to Bagshot Row. Estella's eyes sparkled at the sight of the two headed off on an empty pony cart. She couldn't remember Marigold looking that thrilled and nervous at the same time before, and she waved as the couple turned the corner of the drive. "Well now, do you think the Gaffer had any idea what he did, asking Tom Cotton to take his Mari back to Hobbiton all alone?" asked Fatty. "And you thought Sam made eyes at Rosie. That Mari may hold her tongue, but it's as plain as day she's got eyes for Tom," said Merry as he glanced over at Estella and smiled. The day was fair and breezy, which comforted Estella who couldn't help but fret for her friends in travel. After breakfast, the three began unloading and unpacking the last of Frodo's possessions. Soon the little house looked complete; as comfortable and snug as the lovely Bag End, only on a smaller scale. By luncheon, Estella had quite mastered the kitchen, and arranged all the kitchen things to her liking. They were just finishing up the last bits of a sweet cake when Merry said, "Fatty, we need to pick up the smoked meat in town this afternoon, and there's a few things we need for the... er...stable." He glanced from Fatty to Estella and grinned. "Oh, I nearly forgot," said Fatty, snapping his fingers and nodding. "I'll just go right now, you coming?" Fatty asked, headed for the stable. "Well, I was hoping you could go for me, I have made arrangements for a couple of deliveries today and I am not sure when they will arrive," said Merry. "I suppose I will have to stay and repair that fence out on the back side of the garden while I wait. We do have nails around here somewhere, don't we?" "A delivery? I...I uh, nails?" Estella stammered. "I believe I left them in that box of things for the stable, out by the door." "Yes, a delivery...or two. You'll see, it will tickle you pink I'd imagine," said Merry smiling. Estella stood and collected dishes, trying to ignore the blush that crept up to her cheeks. Fatty had practically run out the door and could be heard going down the lane in the cart. Merry cheerfully helped gather up dishes, pausing for a moment as he stacked them up for her. Feeling his gaze, Estella turned and saw him smiling at her with a broad grin. "You know... you look a lot like your mother and cook just as well." "Why, thank you Merry," Estella replied, her throat suddenly very dry at the compliment. "I do favor my mother, and a good thing too, or I'd look a lot like Fatty." Merry let out a whoop and patted her back as he chortled his way out the door. A faint whistle of a happy tune and banging and clattering wafted in and out of the windows as he wandered back and forth to the stables, collecting supplies and repairing the fence. The day passed quickly; there was just so much to get organized and unpacked. Estella was busy arranging a closet full of linens, when she heard some commotion outside. Merry had already met up with a rather big cart on the lane and was directing them up the drive to the house. She stood at the door with wide eyes and her jaw hanging, as she watched two young hobbits start unloading bathtubs. Three of them. "Three bathtubs?" she managed to say after a long moment of surprise. "Merry, why on earth do you need three bathtubs?" she asked as she walked over to watch the hobbits hefting the copper tubs down from the cart. "Well, I just thought it would be nice for Frodo to have two spares, you know, for when he has visitors," he chuckled, and winked at her when she scowled at him. "Actually, it is a surprise for Frodo, sort of a Birthday present to him and his traveling companions. I thought of it while driving over with Fatty. They are bound to be tired and very dirty by the time they get done scampering across the Shire. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked. Estella was jostled out of her awe at the question. "Indeed, but three? You could've only got the one, and they could take turns, like normal hobbits." "True, but this is better." His grin revealed his glee. "They won't expect three bathtubs," said Merry, clearly pleased with the whole arrangement. "Besides, we can all try one out tonight if we like." His eyes sparkled merrily as he noticed her green eyes grow wide and her cheeks flush. "One at a time of course!" he said with a laugh, giving her a little squeeze on her waist as he followed the first bathtub into the house. As it turned out, the three bathtubs fit nicely side by side in the bathroom, and there was still a little room to move around them. She was helping Merry move one of the tubs slightly to the left when a knock sounded at the door, and he quickly maneuvered his way out of the room to answer the door. "Ah, you are here then. I was expecting you a little earlier, but this is fine," said Merry, who was paying the hobbit at the door. "Can you just bring them directly up to the stable?" he asked. Estella wandered out onto the doorstep in time to see Merry and what looked like one of his many cousins talking with seven ponies stomping at the hedge behind them. The hobbit thanked Merry and began to lead the ponies down a little path. Merry turned and walked back towards the house looking very pleased. "Ponies now? And seven of them? What can you need seven ponies for?" Estella asked, as Merry approached. "Well, one of those ponies is actually Luthow's. The other six are for Frodo, Sam, Pip and I," he said. He gave her a half smile and clucked his tongue. "Why do you need ponies? Are you going somewhere?" she asked. Merry, looked up quickly from the rock he had been toeing on the ground, seemingly taken aback with her question. She was unexpectedly aware that he seemed more serious than she had ever seen him, his eyes troubled. The moment was fleeting and it seemed he was weighing some decision, but he cleared his throat and forced a smile. "Well, they may come in handy...seeing how Frodo isn't right next to town, Sam will be needing them to make trips for him as well, and one is for me and Pip as we tend to travel between Tookland and Buckland quite a bit." "Merry Brandybuck," Estella said quietly as she touched his arm. He averted his gaze from her concerned eyes and grew quiet. "I know there is something else going on. Why can't you tell me?" she asked. Pausing for a moment he sighed softly, his eyes twinkled as he met her gaze. He touched her cheek gently, and tucked a curl behind her ear. "Don't worry Miss Tella, they are really for cousin Frodo and Sam and Pip and I. As for any other reasons, there I cannot say. Nothing is amiss. My cousin Luthow just happens to trade in ponies, that is all." He swallowed and quietly added, "Things that seem odd have a funny way of turning out to be...simply peculiar." He grinned and touched her on the chin. "Chin up, all is well." He disappeared down the path towards the stable, leaving her on the porch still pondering his words with confusion. Estella shook her head and returned to house determined to make good progress. Throughout the day Merry spent much of the afternoon tending to the ponies, and Estella finished up the remaining bits of unpacking. She carried the last empty box out to the cart and saw Merry out walking behind the house along the hedge, going through the raspberry bushes with a laden basket. She watched him for a moment and decided to see if there was anything still growing in the overgrown gardens. She walked on the cool grass and smelled the scent of the bouquet of the various flowers. There were roses, and big bushes of daisies and wildflowers, and little trails of violas filling in all around in a spray of purple, yellow and black. Wandering amidst the plants for a while, she knelt and found a rather large squash plant that was wrapping its coils around posts that had held up peas earlier in the year. Its large leaves hid several yellow squash, which she thumped and felt for ripeness. She pulled at one and it stubbornly remained on the vine. Her hands slipped on the slick gourd and she fell back onto the ground with a thud. Merry laughed from across the garden and came to stand beside her. "Oh, summer squash. It always refuses to let go till winter!" he said. Squatting down next to her he examined the squash and paused for a moment to look up at her. Two pair of green eyes caught the light of the afternoon sun, and they silently held each other's gaze for a moment. His hand, slowly reaching for the squash, found hers, and for a brief moment he touched her small fingers. He seemed to be about to say something, but at that moment Fatty came up the driveway with his cart bringing supplies from town. "Let me just get that, Miss Tella," he said, pulling the squash off easily. "Seems you loosened it up for me." Merry grinned and handed her the squash. Then he rose and walked over to help Fatty unload. Later that night, the three hobbits shared a nice meal again at Frodo's new home. Towards the evening, Estella decided that she at least would try out one of the new bathtubs. She heated the water and poured it in the bath, noting that the kettle was none too easy to haul from the fireplace to the bath. Fatty peeked his head in and saw her attempt to hoist a heavy kettle and helped her pour the steaming water into the tub. "They're really nice. Just the right size," she said. "Do I get a bath too?" asked Fatty. "You'll have to draw your own water, or wait till I'm done. My arms are sore already from just half filling this one!" She went through the cupboards and organized the mats, towels, washcloths and soap, so they were all fresh and ready for the travelers on the morrow while she waited for the various pots and kettles to warm. Finally, she poured the last of the steamy water in the tub, and allowed herself to slip in, washing away any dirt, and closing her eyes with the warmth of it. She'd just finished soaping up, when the door opened and Merry walked in, causing her to let out a yelp and bubbles to go flying. Merry's face turned beet red and he scuttled out of the room, faster than even she thought possible. He uttered apologies and stifled his laughter through the bathroom door. Estella could feel her face was warm, and not from the bath water. "I suppose I must be taking too much time, if people are wandering in on me!" she mumbled to herself as she quickly finished up. She spent the rest of the evening being apologized to, reassured that Merry hadn't seen anything, and hearing various explanations of the opaqueness of the many bubbles that were present at the time. She laughed and teased him that he should probably learn to knock when people are taking baths, but they finished the evening much better. Tasting a raspberry pie that had just finished cooling. The night passed quiet, and the day dawned with the promise of rain hanging heavy in the air; the morning sun struggling to break through the clouds. But it was warm, and the damp air made for uncomfortable work in the garden, despite the cloud cover. Merry had found an overgrown herb garden and was taking delight in pointing out all the varieties he kept discovering under thorny and fuzzy weeds. The basket filled with harvested herbs gave off sweet, spicy and pungent odors that mingled with the moist air and the smell of dirt. By lunch, Merry, Fatty and Estella were ready for a break and a cool drink, and the weather complied, dropping the first fat drops of rain as they headed indoors with the bounty of their labors. Estella began to clank around in the kitchen as the rain came down in sheets, while Merry sorted thyme, coriander and rosemary and yarrow on the table. "If this keeps up, they'll be soaked through by the time they get here," said Merry glancing out the window at the rain. "That is, if they don't fall in a ditch and get completely lost," Fatty said, already chewing on an apple. "Well, Sam is good with directions, but he hasn't even been across the river. Pip though, he knows his way around, and Frodo grew up in Buckland." Estella was just bringing over a bowl of fruit, and sliced, fried sausages with onions and carrots. She already had a stew on, its hearty smell filled the room, and a bowl of dough was rising for baking later in the day. She had made up two pies in the early morning and had just pulled them in from the increasingly damp windowsill. The rain subsided after lunch, and Estella spent most of the day finishing dinner preparations, and tidying up. She planned on heading back to Brandy Hall earlier, but the afternoon was so wet she simply continued baking and preparing additional dishes for the travelers. The afternoon seemed shortened as the dark of the weather lingered, masking the length of day. She bustled around tidying up and giving directions as she prepared to leave before night fell. "Now, remember, when you fill that copper kettle in the bathroom, be really careful about moving it when it is full of hot water," she warned. "And don't pull really hard on that cabinet in there, the handle is loose." She crossed the room and reached for her cloak and scarf, and began to dress for the damp weather. By mid afternoon, Merry had begun checking out the door and windows, and even on occasion walking up the driveway to the lane to watch for any sign of Frodo, Pippin and Sam. He was disappointed each time, and was clearly worried by the time the fog began to rise up from the river just before nightfall. He now crossed the room and helped Estella straighten up her cloak and pulled on his own. "I think I'll be joining you Tella, on your walk down to Brandy Hall. I am going to cross the Brandywine and see what's become of them. They should've made better time than this." "I told you, they fell in a ditch somewheres," said Fatty through bites of pie. "I just don't have a very good feeling about this. Frodo and especially Sam are very punctual. I think we'll bring one of the ponies if you don't mind Tella. I'd like to get down to the river sooner rather than later." Merry saddled up a little pony, and helped Estella up to ride. He hoisted himself up behind her and they headed down the lane. They were quiet for some time, watching the fog roll and thicken before their eyes. The only sounds were the slow clip-clopping of the pony and a few creatures scuttling off preparing for night. Night fell dark quickly with the thick clouds off to the West, and soon the fog enveloped them. Estella was glad she wasn't alone on this dark journey and Merry seemed to think the same, keeping up conversation as the fog pressed in around them. She heard a few funny stories about his youth and growing up on the banks of the Brandywine at Brandy Hall. She knew he had been a wild lad, sneaking over to Farmer Maggot's (among others) regularly to taste a bit of the harvest, but she laughed as he regaled her with some of the other antics Pippin and he were known for in Buckland and Tookland. A few minutes of quiet passed as they grew closer to the river. Estella was comforted by the warm embrace Merry held around her as he clutched the reins of the pony; and even more so by the clear concern he held for his friends. This was not the Merry that had no cares or worries, not the wild hobbit-lad that folks talked of at the taverns as up to no good; nor was it even the Merry she remembered from her youth, teasing and chasing her with frightening creatures. He did have a sense of humor, a true concern for others, and a keen eye for plants. He seemed to be a nice hobbit after all, she thought with a smile. "The fog is heavy and thick, I wonder if it is as bad on the other side," Merry said, startling her out of her thoughts. "It is wet as well. They shall be a damp, dirty group of hobbits once they get in for the night. I suppose it is good you did get three tubs!" Merry agreed with a chuckle but paused, and cleared his throat. "I really appreciate all your help Estella. Frodo will really feel welcome and snug in his new place. I know you did a lot of work getting it ready." Estella blushed and smiled, though her face was barely visible, even with Merry as close as he was. "Well now, you know? To get it done right, you need a lass. I think it looks as fine as can be. Though I imagine it will be all dirty again, once the travelers walk in the door! It has been a fun adventure for us, coming out and getting it ready. I should thank you." She paused, and looked back at him and smiled broadly. "He will enjoy that garden as well, now that you have weeded it all out." Merry nodded, pondering, "He is quite lucky to have all those spices and herbs in the garden. He won't have to be coming to town for much; the squash plant has taken over the garden. Did you see how many I brought inside? He'll be having squash till summer!" Through the fog, the lights of Bucklebury were soft blurred bits of light, blending together in a confusing soup. As they rode through the mist, the lights of the homes would slowly emerge and fade as they passed the outlying houses. Soon the glowing lights from Brandy Hall began to be visible, with a murky blend of various colors down below them. They paused at the road, and Merry slid off the pony. He took Estella's hand as he helped her down. His hands steadied her sides when she wobbled after stepping down upon the damp grass. "Well, Miss Tella, it is here we say farewell for now," said Merry. "You be careful now Merry. I don't want to hear of you falling in that big river now," she said with a grin. "I hope it won't be too long before you come visit down at Bolger Woody Row. I'll make you up a tasty pie if you tell me you're coming." "I can think of nothing I'd like better, than to spend some time up your way, and get a meal at your table," he said quietly, smiling and wiping away a dangling curl hanging in his eyes. Estella smiled and lifted her hand to adjust the wayward curl, which seemed determined to stay in his eyes. Feeling the little lock, she noticed the fog had set Merry's curly hair into damp ringlets around his head. "You'll catch cold for sure Master Merry if you don't cover up. Look at your hair, dripping like that," she chastised him as she undid a tie and her apron came undone. Drying his hair like a wet hobbit-lad, she vigorously fluffed it until it was barely damp. "Oh no, you've been staying too long in Buckland. My mother told you to watch for wet hair didn't she?" he said laughing. He looked up at her with a grin, fuzzy hair going every which way. "Here now," she said as she unwrapped the thick, knitted, green scarf she wore over her head. "You can't be crossing that damp foggy water unprepared!" She wrapped up his head and neck tightly until he could barely be heard through the wooly fabric. A faint, muffled laugh escaped the scarf, and he thanked her with a hug. He climbed up on the pony and he disappeared into the fog with a wave. Turning from the main road, she followed a little path down and around the side of Brandy Hall to the round doors that awaited her, glad for the happy glow coming from the windows. That night she spent quietly at Brandy Hall, not knowing of the frightening adventure just crossing the Shire turned out to be for Frodo and his friends. All was still in Buckland, as Merry returned across the ferry with a strangely skittish Frodo, Sam, and Pippin. The little group made their way past Brandy Hall in the fog and Merry rode ahead up to the snug house at Crickhollow to prepare dinner. The newcomers enjoyed their baths, and ate their fill of the tasty things a lass had left behind for them. Their plans were set in motion, and all Buckland was unaware that its newest resident was about to be the next to pass out of its borders. back to top Chapter 4: The Horn of Buckland The dawn came gray and late, and heavy fog lay like a blanket over Buckland. The sun struggled to slowly burn off the haze as it climbed above the thick air. Estella spent the morning in the cool dry of Brandy Hall, finishing a quilt with Celandine in a small parlor with windows that allowed the dull light to enter. The hobbit lasses chatted of important and unimportant things, covering many topics, many of them completely unrelated, and generally enjoying themselves, pausing only for second breakfast. In their quiet moments, threading floss, or tying knots, Estella found her thoughts drifting off to the previous night, when she had bid farewell to Merry Brandybuck. No news had been mentioned of the travelers crossing the river in the late evening or night, and she wondered now if the three hobbits, Pippin, Sam and Frodo, even made it to Buckland. What seemed to niggle at her mind, more than anything, was Merry's sudden and deep concern for his friends. Hobbits may not be well traveled, but many, especially the more well off hobbits, crossed the Shire to visit family and friends. And while a mother or wife would fret about such a trip, it was very unlike any male hobbit to be truly concerned about a journey within the Shire. The more she pondered, the more odd it seemed that Merry was as worried as he was when they parted ways in the fog last night. Lunch was fast approaching, and there was still no word. Estella cornered a few young lads that made Brandy Hall their home and sent them the market square to ask around, but to no avail. Nothing had been heard. After lunch, Estella decided to walk back up to Crickhollow and find out for herself. Surely, even if there had been no news of them Merry and Fatty would know. And she was beginning to feel rather annoyed at her brother for not bothering to send at least a note down. Celandine walked with her as far as Widow Greenbelt's, and each lass bore a basket of goodies baked fresh from the ovens at Brandy Hall. The day was warm and the moisture in the air made it feel sticky and hot as Estella made her way up the lane to Frodo's new home. All was quiet and still as she approached the little hedge, only tiny gnats buzzing in a colony about her. She knocked on the door, and it remained silent, as if no one was home at all. Knocking again she rat-a-tat-tatted out a little rhythm, waving off the tiny bugs. 'Surely they arrived?' she thought. 'It is rather late to be sleeping in, even if they arrived very late last night.' Just as she reached for the knob Fatty's eyes peered through the shutters at the window nearest her. He threw open the door and cheerily invited her in, only pausing to look out beyond her for a moment before closing the door. Spying her basket he followed her to the table and peeked under the heavy yellow cloth as she set it down. "From Brandy Hall? How kind of you to think of me," Fatty said with a grin, as he began to investigate the basket's contents. Estella walked through the small house, noting there were no cloaks, packs, or even more than one walking stick. "Where is Frodo?" she asked. "Frodo?" asked Fatty, contentedly spreading butter on a muffin. "Frodo isn't here." "Well, I can see that. Did he arrive last night? Did Merry go into town? Where are the others? I thought you'd need all these little goodies with your reputation for enjoying a good meal and snacks besides." "Oh, yes they all made it last night, dirty as rats," Fatty said between bites of his treat. "Pippin was especially happy to see the bathtubs. He made quite the splash." Estella smiled at the thought, but was still curious. "Where did they get off to then?" "Well, I am not sure, exactly. They all left rather early this morning," Fatty said as he concentrated on slathering butter on a soft roll. "Did they take all six ponies?" asked Estella as she attempted to straighten a painting that was hung askew. "Five." "So they were going somewhere with a baggage pony then?" said Estella, whirling to face him, her eyes now bright. He stared at her dumbfounded in a stunned silence for a long moment before he managed to stammer, "Well, I can't exactly say." "You can't or won't?" A lengthy pause hung between the siblings and he seemed to answer reluctantly. "Both." He stood, leaving his half-eaten roll at the table and examined the painting she'd just set to rights. "Fatty Bolger, what is going on?" questioned Estella, hands on her hips. Turning to look at her he suddenly grinned. "You know, you look a lot like mother when you do that." Rolling her eyes, she huffed into the kitchen. She looked around and noticed that everything she had fixed the day before was gone, and dishes from breakfast sat waiting to be washed. The plates, though dirty, were scraped clean, and stacked in a pile along with multiple cups in the kitchen basin. It was clear that at the very least they had partaken of two meals within the house, and she guessed, correctly, that the rather large amount of missing food had been taken with the now absent hobbits. Estella sighed as she rolled up the sleeves on her blouse and began to clean the dishes. "So, when is he coming back then, brother?" she asked "Well, now, he didn't rightly say. I expect he doesn't know exactly, but I am to keep things nice till he comes back, I don't believe it will be too long now." "Not too long?" She paused mid-scrub, to wave a soggy rag at him. "Is that not too long, a few hours or not too long a few days?" "Well, maybe a little longer." Estella eyed him warily. His voice had a tone she knew all too well. He was definitely hiding something. She walked over to the table where he sat, wiping water and bubbles on her apron. "A little longer? Fatty, how long?" He whistled and sighed, eyeing her sheepishly from the table. He pondered his words carefully, and Estella sat down to meet his gaze, patiently waiting for his reluctant response. "I knew you'd be the first one to ask," he paused and chewed at his lip. "I can't tell you Tella. I honestly don't know when they'll be back." An icy chill seemed to creep down her spine, as she realized that there was much more going on than a simple trip to town. "Where did they go?" "I don't know that either," he swallowed and looked at her. "I just know they started in the Old Forest." She gasped and her eyes grew wide. "The Old Forest?" she whispered, as if it could hear her. "What on earth possessed them to go there?" Fatty nodded with a miserable sigh and played with crumbs on the table. "It's a long story Tella, and one I don't know all the parts to." She sat back on the chair and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on," she said stubbornly. "I just spent the good part of a week moving Frodo into his new house and I think I have the right to know why he up and heads out into the gloom of the Old Forest on his first day home!" Fatty nodded, but was silent for a long while before he spoke. "I can only tell you what I know, for I fear there is much more to this tale than even I supposed. And you can't go talking about any of this." She nodded, but he continued, "It's important, Tella. The less people know the better. They made me swear to keep it as quiet as possible." As the afternoon progressed, she learned a great many things. Fatty had not only been involved in much of the planning for the removal of Frodo from Hobbiton, but all along he knew that Frodo and Sam were planning on leaving the Shire. And he had aided Merry and Pippin in their preparations to leave with them. Much of the news came as a shock. For one that they had planned their departure for months, and for another that Frodo himself didn't know of their schemes until just last night. The thought that Frodo was as fooled as she was held some comfort when it occurred to her that all of the moving was just a charade. "All that work, and he was never planning on staying here at all?" she cried. "I'm sure he'll stay here... if he returns." Fatty patted her hand. "Tella, there was a reason we chose you and Mari to help us. We knew the news of their leaving would come out, and who but Mari and you could really be trusted to not run off in a huff about the whole business?" Estella glared at him and huffed, yet a smile slowly broke across her face as she absorbed the veiled compliment. Fatty knew she could be trusted to not wag her tongue, and obviously the four other hobbit-lads did as well. She supposed it was nice knowing that others thought her trustworthy. The smile faded as she thought about the now very absent travelers beginning a dangerous journey, and wondered now if they all would return at all. It was uncomfortable knowing she was now a co-conspirator in their scheme to pretend that Frodo remained in the Shire, and only having Fatty to discuss it with. He mentioned very little about the Ring. Only that it was magic, and a danger to the Shire. Frodo's task was to take it to Rivendell, to keep the Shire safe. That seemed to satisfy Estella, though the thought of real elves and magic rings and journeys far past Bree sounded far too much like one of Bilbo's fantastical stories than she wanted to believe possible. It was fine for fairy tales, for exciting stories told to young hobbits, but to run off into the wild for real seemed bizarre, no matter what the reasons. Though hesitant to go into much detail on their planned journey, Fatty spoke long, and fondly of Frodo and told how he didn't know that Merry and Pippin were to leave with him and Sam until last night. But Merry knew, and had prepared fully for their removal. Her eyes grew wide as he recounted how Merry and Pippin had managed to convince Sam that they should come along on the adventure. He seemed to know a lot of Merry's preparations and plans, most likely, she thought, as he had spent all that time traveling with him not a few days earlier. "It's just like them too, to want to go tramping about on adventures and such. I have a feeling they'll soon be missing their beds and warm cooking after a bit of adventuring!" Fatty said with a grin. The most disconcerting news was the description of the Black Riders, though it was second hand. Tall horsemen cloaked in black, wandering the Shire asking questions and sniffing about for particular hobbits. Here in the Shire, what could possibly draw such types seemed beyond explanation. She now worried for them. Not just for their ability to travel through forests and glades, but to avoid frightening pursuing riders. How could four small hobbits avoid such frightening creatures? She swallowed and shook off the thought, and her eyes wandered to a basket filled to the brim with squash. A smile touched her lips as she thought of Merry bringing in the heavy basket and how they'd talked and cheerily spent the day. Was it only yesterday she had been talking to Merry? She had no real suspicions of them leaving on a serious journey, it hadn't even crossed her mind. She thought back to their conversations. He had known he was leaving. Was there anything that she should've seen? She chided herself on not paying enough attention. As she pondered the past days events, Estella realized that Merry had diverted her attention, manipulated her perceptions of his behavior even, to keep her from noticing their plans. Only the arrival of the ponies had made her wonder what he was up to, but all the unpacking and baking she'd done had distracted her from noticing that he had spent an awful lot of time running to and from the stable. He had been packing, of course, and right under her nose. 'How could I have been so blind?' she thought with exasperation. She blushed, thinking how her questions were so easily turned to other things. 'Merry was a good liar', she thought with a scowl. 'No, not a liar, he never lied.'. He was clever. And she couldn't hold that against him. But he did take her good scarf. "I hope it keeps him well," she thought aloud. "What keeps who?" She bit her lip, and fingered the grains of the wood on the table realizing she'd spoken her thoughts. "Nothing." "Don't feel bad Tella. I wasn't supposed to tell you anything, even now. Merry and I spent a lot of time on the road going over what to pack and how to keep you out of it." He gently put his hand over hers and he quietly finished, "He didn't want you to know." She looked up, and felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she met his warm gaze. "He...did he? Surely he didn't have any concern as to my welfare?" she finally managed to say. Fatty smiled softly as he looked at his sister, she was much more flustered than she let on and for once it made sense. "He told me to keep you safe, and that I will always do." She nervously took a sip of tea, the saucer clanking loudly against the cup as she set it down. Fatty nodded slowly as he took her trembling hands within his own. "He is a nice lad, isn't he?" Estella dropped her eyes to the table, and nodded. But after a moment she pulled her hands away from his, running them through her curls. "So you are to stay here and pretend to be Frodo? Even from afar any visitors could see that Frodo had gained some weight rather rapidly on his walk to Crickhollow." Fatty grinned, and noted the abrupt change of subject, before he replied, "Well, that is true, but it is just a precaution. I am sure nothing will come of it, and after a while the word will spread that he has gone off. I am to stay and keep house here, which is nice, as mother wanted me to move out anyway." Estella paused in thought, narrowing her eyes as Fatty sank his teeth into a pastry. There was more, much more, but Fatty was done telling. Already she had shared and learned more than she had imagined possible in a conversation with her usually insensible brother. It would have to come out later. She sighed and cleaned up after tea. "Fatty, I think I understand, at least a little, the reason for all this secrecy and scheming, but now I am worried. Perhaps I should stay here for a few days, just so as you're not alone with Black Riders creeping about? I could write Aunt Primrose tonight if you like, she isn't expecting me until tomorrow evening at the earliest." "Nay, nay sister. I will be fine and dandy. You head on to Budgeford with no worries of me. The riders, even if they are for real, aren't looking for me after all." Estella nodded slowly, and gathered up a few things to leave. "Lock up at night will you?" "Indeed I shall, just for you. I should be fine, even if they came to the door. It isn't far to Farmer Boffin's from here." "I shall expect you to write and assure me that all is well then." She eyed him with a wry smile. Fatty seemed to be comfortable in this little snug home, surrounded by Frodo's furniture. 'It should be interesting to see how he keeps house,' she thought mischievously. As they walked outside, the two looked at the westering sun that had finally made an appearance as it fell below the clouds. Estella determined to get on her way quickly; the darkening skies did not look good. The heavy air that had heated all day, now had built into a dark gray clouds in preparation for what looked like an approaching storm. She hugged her brother and headed down the lane. The walk home was quiet, yet the rolling clouds above her filled her with foreboding. One passing by would perhaps think she was worried about imminent rain, but her thoughts were not in the Shire at all, they were behind her. In the Old Forest. *** "Well now here you are at last! I daresay you will never get all that mud out of your skirt Estella," Primrose declared as she welcomed in the travel worn hobbit lass out of the damp afternoon. "Aye, I am afraid I had a little slip or two coming up the lane," Estella said with a sigh as she stood just inside the threshold of Erlfut and Primrose Bolger's house. "I hope you didn't worry yesterday?" "Nay, my dear, it was too wet yesterday for much of anything. We didn't get much done out of doors, and I surely didn't expect you to brave such a wet day!" Primrose Bolger was a round and cheery hobbit, very prone to hugs and laughter, and never seemed to stop moving. Erlfut, her husband, was a brother to Estella's father Odovacar, and had long ago taken it upon himself to help in the raising of Rosa's children. Of course, now that Estella was much older, Primrose and Erlfut were simply dear relatives that she visited regularly for nice little stretches of time. Erlfut was several years younger than Odo, but had married late, and his wife was only 8 years older than Estella herself, in fact they had been regular friends when she had visited Budgeford as a girl. At present the couple were in the midst of raising their own four hobbit children, all sweet round-faced lads that never tired of antics. It was a tidy little place, not a hole really, but a house that was partially built into the side of a small rolling hill and partially beside it. Where the roof started and the grassy knoll began behind it had long ago been covered with various plants, mostly ivy and grasses. But today the leaves and grasses merged together in one damp green jumble and while the rains that were unrelenting yesterday had gone, the muggy air still hung heavy in haze. The little home was so surrounded by little slopes and various bushes and trees that it was hardly noticeable from the road. Estella however, knew exactly where the Bolgers lived, though it did not make the walk from the small town center of Budgeford any less muddy. Estella had risen early that morning and Brandy Hall was shrouded in fog. She and Celandine walked with lanterns into Buckland well after the sun should have been lighting their way. She paid for passage on a quarry trade cart that was headed up to Scary. She rested amidst various packages and food items sent from Buckland with two other hobbits also bound for the Bridgefields or beyond. The cart driver had been cross, and for good reason. The roads were bad, and his ponies unhappy, for it had rained all the day before and not let up for a minute. They had made slow progress on the Buckland roads, and paused for lunch (all very hungry) at the Bridge Inn before crossing the swollen Brandywine into East Farthing. The Great Road, while not dry, was certainly harder and more worn than the smaller country roads and the fog lifted somewhat, allowing the trip to progress quicker from there. It was up near Budgeford that they ran into trouble. The roads were muddy, and as they approached The Water the Budgeford Road, shaded by many trees, had collected great puddles for long stretches. The passengers were obliged to walk along side the cart, (sometimes pushing) and on the whole none escaped the grimy spray that kicked up. When at last they arrived at the bridge crossing, Estella watched wide eyed as the water licked the bottom of the bridge with runoff from the storm still lapping high on the banks below. Primrose seized Estella's bags and bustled her niece quickly into a bedroom, and furnished her with warm, clean clothes. Estella soon found herself in front of a bright fire with warm soup and bread and a cluster of young hobbit-lads wanting to hear any bit of news, or a good story from distant Buckland. On the trip over she had managed to formulate the best way to get around telling anyone directly that Fatty was now alone at Crickhollow. She managed to describe the trip, the moving, the new house, the weather and that she'd not even seen Frodo, Pippin or Sam all without any falsehoods. Her only fib was that they'd gone into town when she last visited Fatty, and that the rain prevented her from seeing anyone but those in Brandy Hall the day before. The remainder of the day was spent with much eating and talking and playing of games with the children. But in the night her thoughts wandered to the words of her brother, and the second-hand story of the riders pursuing the travelers. She had nervously kept an eye out on the road as she traveled to Budgeford, and saw or heard no sign of any riders on horses, black or no. She had herself nearly convinced by morning that it was most likely just frightened hobbits wandering the Shire imagining things. All her rationalizations fit nicely together, and with a sunny day drying out the mud, things looked a bit brighter, until the post came. Estella had been working on a rather large pile of mending (hobbit-lads being rather hard on the knees of their trousers) when Primrose came in from the gardens with a basket of carrots and a letter addressed to Estella. This was a surprise, as she hadn't expected Fatty to write so soon, and couldn't imagine who else would find her here. She examined the careful print on the envelope, and knew instantly that it was from Marigold. Not all hobbits knew their letters well, and while many of Estella's family and friends were avid letter writers, Marigold had only learned a little writing and usually had someone else read things to her. The script was careful and simple, and Estella knew it must hold urgent news or she would not have taken the trouble to write out a note. She was unaware of her Aunt standing in the doorframe watching as she anxiously read the letter. Her lips moved softly as she made out the words, some spelled more phonetically than correctly. Small fingers ran over the writing several times before she looked up dismayed. "What's wrong?" Primrose asked gently. "I...uh...it's from Marigold Gamgee," Estella said. "She is concerned for her brother and Mister Frodo." "Concerned? Why? Didn't they just walk into Buckland? You said yourself that they had arrived. Surely Cousin Frodo would have sent a note around to the Gamgees by now." Estella looked at Primrose nervously, she had not shared all that she knew and this letter had rekindled the flame of fear in her heart like no other words could. Marigold wrote of a black rider that visited her father the very day Frodo, Sam and Pippin had left Hobbiton. And it was searching for "Baggins". The thought of some great, dark and frightening creature chasing innocent hobbits across their own lands made her shudder in fear. 'What if the riders came upon them? How could they face such beings? They have no weapons or means of outrunning a horse at speed? Perhaps they could hide, keeping quiet as hobbits can do? But surely with ponies and such a long ride to Rivendell they would be easily discovered and overtaken, even in the Old Forest. Perhaps the Wizard Gandalf would meet them on the road and offer protection, but if not he, whom else could they trust?' Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to make things work out in favor of the hobbits. "Estella?" Primrose's voice nudged her out of her dark thoughts. Estella eyed her Aunt and friend nervously for a moment and decided to come clean. "Marigold says that there are strange folk, dark riders searching for Mister Frodo. And even Fatty told me that Frodo, Sam and Pippin had been followed and were frightened of just such a thing. Oh Primrose, I'm worried for them." Her eyes brimmed with tears and Primrose hugged her tightly. "Oh lass, it will be all right. Dark riders aren't the only strange things about these days. We hear word at least once a week of odd folk passing through the Shire here and there and abroad on the high country. They've increased the Bounders twofold in the last year, and just a month ago came reports of strange folk walking about just past Dwaling behind the hills." Estella fought tears as she absorbed the comfort of her Aunt's arms. Her mind was a jumble of emotions and thoughts, worry and irrational fear. And she couldn't shake the thought that her cousins, and Marigold's dear brother were not only in grave danger, but not anywhere near where they could find reasonable aid. Yet she couldn't quite get up the nerve to tell all she knew. She was held back, the words of Fatty rang in her ears. "Tella, there was a reason we chose you and Mari to help us," he had said. He trusted her to keep quiet as long as possible...and even more, Merry did too. All of them did, but somehow knowing that Merry Brandybuck was wandering the Old Forest with her good scarf on an important quest and trusting her to keep silent was enough to help her regain her composure and agree with Primrose, for now. The sun shining after such a dreary few days had lightened Estella's mind, but this news weighed on her as if it was again gray and rainy. But she decided to do her best to keep her mind busy and things happy. After finishing mending, Estella helped Primrose in the kitchen and later went on long romping walks with her young cousins. The night settled fine, and the skies had cleared, a thin waxing moon shone brightly above the Shire, and she allowed her mind to wander a little to the East. She now held a burning hope in her heart, a little prayer that they would be all right, that they would return. As the night grew deeper, she did small stitching by the fire before bed, listening as Erlfut entertained the boys with stories, and Primrose managed to hustle them off to bed one by one. That night her dreams were uneasy. Hobbits riding on ponies mingled with mud and fog, and rain and then suddenly she was back in Brandy Hall, with all its assortment of residents and many hallways. There was a sound, and she began to run, looking up hundreds of corridors in search of its meaning, and only hearing it blaring louder and louder. There was commotion and voices and then, she woke with a start in the dark of the room in Budgeford. Had she heard a sound? She could hear her own quick breathing and felt chill for a moment in the silence. Then it happened. The sound of a blasting horn down in the town below made her jump nearly out of her skin. It was the Budgeford Horns, they were calling out in response to the Horn of Buckland, a faint howling sound she could hear echoing over the Shire when the Budgeford Horn had quieted. Indeed, after several minutes she heard other horns. Brockenborings echoed high to the North, Frogmorton and Woodhall to the South, and a ringing bell from the keepers at the Brandywine bridge all echoed the cry. Something was terribly wrong in the Shire. Estella could not recall ever hearing the horns sound, not in all her years had they called out. In fact it had been over a hundred years since they had rung out so. The Fell Winter of 1311 was a well-known story in the Shire, when the white wolves crossed the frozen Brandywine from the North. But it was not winter, and Estella knew it was not wolves. She dashed straight out of bed, and noticed a gray light from the windows as the night prepared for dawn. Primrose was busy building up the fire and the warm red glow of its embers began to brighten the room and the faces of the young hobbit lads who arrived one by one in confusion. Uncle Erlfut however, had just thrown his cloak over his hastily dressed form and held a scythe in one hand and a walking stick in the other. He only turned back once and pecked his wife on the cheek and winked at the children before he was off. Primrose fought her tears and gathered the four boys around her as he left to find the reason for the alarm. The yawning young hobbit-lads were sent back to bed, with promises that they would hear the news from their father after breakfast. Estella and Primrose, however, sat in silence by the fire, listening to the echoing and fading horns and wondering just what it meant. back to top Chapter 5: Of Rumors and Riders The grasses whispered in welcome of the rising sun over the soft hills of the Bridgefields and thin clouds heralded the morning with a pink and yellow glow. Primrose was gently turning the bacon and Estella poured milk in cups for her young cousins quietly eating at the table. Birds chattered outside and all seemed fresh and bright, save for the nagging worry that filled the room. The door burst open suddenly, and Primrose let out a yelp in surprise befitting the startled faces of the family, as they looked up to see Erlfut silhouetted by the bright morning rays pouring in behind him. He strode in and set his walking stick down and shed his cloak all in one smooth movement. "Well, Tella, what do you think?" he said as he strode across the room and received a tight hug from his very relieved wife. "None other than your brother Fatty set the alarm out in Buckland in the dark of the morning." "What?" cried Estella, her eyes wide with horror. "Fatty ran nearly a mile. A mile!" laughed Erlfut. Estella crossed the room and sat down next to where he had settled. "Tell me everything you know!" she said quickly. Gulping back her fears she continued, "Were there riders in black?" The smile on his face dissolved into a grave frown. "How did you know about the riders?" "I...uh..." she stammered, feeling very much one caught in a falsehood. "Marigold Gamgee wrote and told me the riders were looking for Frodo and...and Fatty told me... and I told him to lock up even... and I can't even tell her...and she was worried about Sam, and I..." Her voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears. She blurted out an incoherent stream of worries that became a mumble as she buried her face in her hands and the tears slipped down unchecked. Everyone fell silent, and one glance from Erlfut was all it took for the boys to vanish noiselessly from the room. Primrose stood in front of the kitchen door wringing her hands, her face filled with worry and concern. Estella gulped and wiped at her face, and managed to moan a muffled, "Is he all right?" The kind hand of her uncle rested gently on her curls. "Yes, he is fine, but frightened badly no doubt. These riders came up from out by Hobbiton so they say, and made their way up to Buckland." Estella looked up, her eyes red, and stared at him speechless as he continued, "There was scant news down in town, but your news confirms the rumor that these riders were looking for Frodo Baggins. But if that rumor is true, then little lass, perhaps the other bit I heard is true then as well?" "Uh...other?" She sniffed and eyed him nervously. "Seems Frodo and three of his closest friends have up and left the Shire entirely." Estella swallowed and stared at her uncle. He had always been able to read her face like a book and she knew he could see the answer as if it was written on her face. He nodded. "You knew then." She didn't need to even respond, but she nodded dejectedly. "But the riders, they...they didn't find Fatty, he isn't hurt?" "No, save perhaps overtired from a sprint. He saw them coming and slipped out the back way, and ran all the way to Farmer Boffins, collapsing in a heap before he got out the story of the threat and the horns started a-blowin." "I must go to him!" Estella rose wringing her apron tightly as she paced the floor. "Ah, lass. You're so like your mother. I figured as much." Erlfut began collecting food from the table onto a plate for his own breakfast. "Fatty is as safe as may be, but I won't get any less than a hot earful from your Ma if I didn't get you off to see him right away." He smiled and grasped her arm, halting her agitated pacing. "I've made arrangements, and we're both to ride up to Buckland. A couple of Bounders, and the Shirriff from down in Frogmorton will be meeting up with us at the Road in two hours to head over." For the first time that morning a smile flashed over Estella's worried face, and she dashed past her aunt, who had been standing quietly watching the entire time, to pack up once again. Erlfut snorted softly and began attacking the breakfast he had piled upon his plate. Primrose sat at his side asking questions as fast as she could, patiently watching him chew between each answer. Estella however, didn't stay to hear anything. She stuffed extra clothes and a few supplies into her smallest knapsack and tied the straps on quickly. She sat impatiently at the small writing desk in the corner of the small bedroom, and began writing a note to her mother. Rosa would hear the news sooner, but at least this note would alleviate some of the worry. The note tucked in her skirt pocket, and the remaining pouches of her small bag stuffed with food for the road, Estella waited anxiously for Erlfut to ready himself as well. *** When Estella arrived in Buckland late that afternoon, Bucklebury was busy as she had never seen it before. Hobbits were all bustling about talking to each other, and rushing from here to there. Apparently there had been much goings on that day and all of it so strange and out of the ordinary that no one could resist discussing it several times with multiple friends and acquaintances, and especially over many meals and cups of ale. The little inns and pubs were full of the locals and the travelers from about the Shire, all anxiously humming with the news. For after Fatty had set the alarm in the night, nothing had calmed. All of Buckland had been searched; from the Hay Gate to Grindwall folks had been about looking for signs of these riders in black, the intruders into the Shire. There had been much discussion, but no real discoveries so far as hobbits could notice. Estella and Erlfut made for Farmer Boffin's place, where they heard Fatty wa |