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An Early Frost  by MysteriousWays

An Early Frost

 

By MysteriousWays

A soft, warm breeze caressed Impatien’s cheek. She and Frodo were sitting on a small foot bridge that crossed a small creek not far to the east of Bag End, enjoying the warm rays of the late August sun. In the months since the Yule night they spent together they have shared a unique warm bond. Impatien had not sought to kiss him as she had the evening before his last birthday (his thirty-third). Frodo had not attempted to kiss her as he had the night of the Harvest Festival. Neither had suggested to the other a renewal of the intimacies they had shared that Yule night. They had an understanding that the bond between them was not one meant for marriage. Each had agreed to be content with what they had been given, a closeness that defied known definition.

"I received a letter from my Aunt Dora of Willowbottom, yesterday," said Impatien.

"Have you? How is your Aunt these days?" asked Frodo as he gazed into the water where his feet were submerged beneath the surface next to hers.

"She is well though getting on in years. In fact that is a part of the matter to which she wrote to me about. As you may recall she has that little tea room in Willowbottom."

"How could I forget, The Lilly of the Valley. I have been there a time or two with Esmeralda. Your Aunt Dora makes the best current scones I have ever tasted."

"Yes, she does, in deed. I have been begging her for years for that recipe. She has finally consented to I’ve me that recipe but there is one condition."

"What ever it is, agree to it, I would have you name any price just so that I could have one of those scones, once a week," Frodo replied with enthusiasm.

"I am afraid, my dear, that if I agree to her condition you will have to make some sort of arrangements to get those scones. The condition is that I move to Willowbottom and assist her in running the Lilly. You see, the ladies in my mother’s family have been passing around the ownership of that tearoom and the recipe for the current scones for nearly one hundred fifty years now. The shop and the tea room always goes to a female family member who is unmarried, usually widowed, and responsible for supporting herself as well as any children she may have. Aunt Dora didn’t need it when she took it, but her cousin, Asphodel, wanted to move to the East farthing to live with her youngest daughter. Aunt Dora’s son had recently been married so she agreed to take over running The Lilly until someone else in the family was in need of it. When my mother died Aunt Dora wanted me to come and live with her and help run The Lilly. I refused, because I wasn’t ready to leave my home yet. But it is getting harder for Aunt Dora to keep up with the old place, so she was hoping that maybe I am now ready to come and take over."

"And do you think you will?" Frodo’s question was spoken calmly giving no hint to the confusion of emotions that had started to stir within him.

Impatien sighed, "I don’t know. I still don’t want to leave Hobbiton. I have been able to get along perfectly well on my own and I do not see why I can not continue to do so. But this is a family business that has been there to provide for the needs of many in my family who may have been poor without it. Even If I don’t need it, I am at the very least the only one in the family who is available to take over management of The Lilly."

"It would likely be a more secure living for you than making and selling baskets."

"That is true. Tell me, Mr. Baggins," Impatien said with a mischievous smile, "are you trying to get rid of me."

"Actually, yes, that is exactly what I am trying to do." Frodo started to speak with a voice heavy with sarcasm. "Half the Shire is convinced we are courting and near to announcing our betrothal. I am finding the situation to be most inconvenient as it is discouraging the lasses from paying any attention to me. And you know how much I enjoy that."

Impatien giggled, "I am so sorry, my dear. Had I but known I would have departed for The Lilly within an hour of receiving my aunt’s letter."

Frodo chuckled then sighed. "In all seriousness, I think you should go."

Impatien reached up and finger combed Frodo’s hair back behind her ears, "I would miss you, though. I rather like what we have."

"Many conversations, a few kisses and one night spent keeping impassioned company. That hardly seems enough to keep you here."

Impatien stared intently at the rippled reflections on the water’s surface. "I am not so very certain of that myself. I can’t talk to anyone the way I can talk with you, Frodo. I fear I would be quite lonely in Willowbottom."

Frodo took her hand, "We can write to one another."

Impatien looked into Frodo’s eyes, "You really think I should go, don’t you?"

"Impatien, it is a good opportunity for you. No longer would you have to sit outside on cold blustery market days selling your baskets. The Lilly would mean a steady income even in the winter months. You need not give up your house here. You could rent it out. I will look after it for you, collect the rent and all of that. That would give us legitimate reason to write to one another. I will come and visit you in Willowbottom. You set aside as much income as you can from The Lilly and then one day you will be able to live where ever you like without worry of making baskets, tea, or scones for anyone but yourself."

~~~~~

Frodo sat in front of the fire in his room, deep in thought. Impatien was leaving, the following morning to be exact. She and Frodo had discussed it for several days before she had finally decided to move to Willowbottom. In all of those conversations Frodo’s opinion never wavered. He always said that Impatien should go. Not once in those conversations did Frodo ever give away the truth of his feelings. Not once did he let Impatien see that if it were only his wishes to be considered she would stay. ‘But stay for what?’ he asked himself. ‘What ever could you offer her?’

"I could ask her to marry me," he replied to his inner voice.

‘But she will not have you. One night was all she thought you worthy of.’

"She said she loved me."

‘She also said you were not meant to live a quiet Hobbit life. She was right and you know that."

"But I could live that life. It is true that I do not feel drawn to it as others do, but I could be happy."

‘She would never accept you as a husband. She has made that all too clear. She would be better off to leave. If you love her you will let her go.’  This was the routine pattern of Frodo’s thoughts whenever he took the time to think of Impatien leaving and what it meant to him. Always the internal argument ended the same. What was best was to let Impatien go. Frodo gave his stalwart support of the plan for her to move. He helped with the arrangements; he had even been able to find a suitable tenant for her house. It was all settled and on the marrow, just after dawn, Impatien would climb into Mr. Muddyfoot’s wagon and ride off to her new home and life.

Frodo shivered as he stared into the fire. It was a chilly evening for early October. Just that afternoon The Gaffer had predicted that there would be frost come morning. The Gaffer was usually right about such things. But the early chill was not what had made Frodo shiver. It was loneliness that mad Frodo cold. First Bilbo had left. Gandalf had meant to stay for several days to help ease Frodo into his new status as a Hobbit of his own means, but then Gandalf had left all of a sudden. Frodo had tried to pretend that it did not matter, but with the eminent departure of another close friend, he had to admit that he was starting to feel rather abandoned.

‘You are just feeling sorry for yourself,’ said the inner voice.  Frodo tried to ignore the voice. Instead he let his mind dwell on thoughts of Impatien. In his mind her dark hair shone with glints of red under bright sunlight, her smile warmed him. Her lips pressed against his, inviting him to his first kiss. Her body pressed against his awakening a deeply felt passion within him. She understood him as no one had before."I love her. "

‘Then let her go.’

"Why should I?"

‘It is for the best.’

"I am not certain of that."

‘She will not have you as a husband.’

"I can not know that unless I ask. I will let her decide what is best."

With that Frodo got up from his chair and made his way quickly through the silence of Bag End. He barely paused long enough to grab his cloak before rushing out the door.

~~~~~

 

Impatien hummed quietly to herself as she watched her fingers form stitch after stitch in her knitting. She thought absently of putting her knitting away when she got to the end of the row. Tomorrow would be a long day so she would need the rest that would come with an early bedtime. She did not expect the knock on her door. With the first rap on the door she jumped, with the third she dropped a stitch of her knitting, with the third one of her needles flew from her hands to clatter on the wood floor. She took a few breaths to calm herself before calling out, "Who is it?"

"It’s me, Frodo."

Impatien barely paused long enough to set her knitting in her workbasket before rising up to answer her front door. "Frodo! Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing is wrong, I just wanted to see you is all."

"Well, don’t just stand there, come in."

"Are you certain? It is rather late."

Impatien reached out and took Frodo’s hand, "I am certain. Come inside and I will make us some tea."

Frodo came in, as he brushed by Impatien she saw that there was a certain tenseness to his features. "Here, let me help you with your cloak," she said after she had closed the door. She reached for the button at his throat, hoping that under the guise of this simple task she could get a better look at his face. But before her hands had got halfway to their intended destination before Frodo’s hands shot out and captured hers. "No! That’s all right. I can manage." But Frodo did not release her hands, he just stared at them, letting his thumbs rub the back of them.

To Impatien’s eyes Frodo’s gaze was intense. His teeth were clenched. His breathing was heavy. "Frodo, look at me. Tell me what is the matter." One moment passed, followed by another. Frodo glanced up, his blue eyes seemed to burn as he looked into hers. He released her hands. He quickly slid one arm around her waist while his other hand reached up to touch her face. Between one heartbeat and the next he pulled her close to him and pressed his lips to hers.

Impatien could not refuse the kiss. The touch of Frodo’s lips set fire to her. To burn alive from such feelings would be bliss. She responded to his kiss with a matching intensity. Seconds lasted a lifetime; eternity was compressed into a single fleeting moment. Surging emotions overwhelmed. Frodo’s lips left hers and moved to kiss her neck and her hair then stopped. She felt his arms wrap more tightly around her. She felt him shaking. Then she heard his voice. "Don’t go. Please don’t go."

Impatien tried to pull back, "What?"

"Don’t go. Please, Impatien, don’t leave. Stay here. Stay with me. Marry me!"

Impatien felt her legs loose strength. If Frodo had not been holding her so tightly she thought she might have collapsed. As it was only her head drooped, her forehead resting against the strength of his shoulder. Impatien took a deep breath and released it. "I’m sorry Frodo, but I can’t."

Frodo relinquished some of his hold on her. He pulled back to look at her. Impatien tilted her head up to look at him. "You said that you love me, Impatien. I can feel it everyday. Every moment we are together. You love me, and I love you. Stay here with me and marry me."

Impatien felt her eyes burning with tears but she held her gaze steady with his. She reached up to rest one hand gently to the side of his face. She shook her head. Her voice when she spoke was barely above a whisper. "No Frodo, I can’t."

"You can..."

"No, Frodo, it isn’t meant to be. I’m sorry, my love, but I look into your eyes and I know this is not supposed to be. There is a darkness in your eyes. It frightens me. What you ask for is not what is meant for you."

"But I love you," protested Frodo.

"I know you do." Impatien’s eyes darkened from soft brown to black, she didn’t know it, but Frodo could see a light in their depths, like a star deep in the night sky. "If I stay darkness will win." The words passed from Impatien’s lips. The voice sounded as though it were own, but Frodo shuddered, for that brief moment the person who spoke was not Impatien. The softly spoken words reverberated with power. Frodo’s heart fell. He could feel the truth of what was said though he did not understand what it meant. One thing was clear to him, Impatien was not his, nor could she ever be.

Frodo clutched tightly to Impatien. He felt his body shake with sobs of despair. He feared this future of his that was shrouded in darkness. Impatien held him tightly. With her lips she placed tender comforting kisses along the side of his face. Those kisses filled Frodo with a gentle warmth. Gradually he relaxed. Love replaced darkness. Frodo turned his head. His lips met Impatien’s. Passion grew once more. This was their time. This was their brief moment to love as they wished. Frodo grasped onto it and her eagerly. Impatien welcomed his touch with a passionate desire of her own. Clothing fell away as each greedily sought to take all that they could from this last chance to be together, to fulfill the deepest felt longings, to love one another as freely as they wished.

Comfort was sought and found in Impatien’s bed. Stars moved inexorably across the sky, marking the passing of these few moments stolen from destiny. But even the hottest of fires will in time burn low and so it was with Frodo and Impatien. Eventually they could do nothing more than hold one another. She savored the strength she felt emanating from within him. He savored her softness and warmth. Weariness and contentment overcame them and they drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~

Frodo’s eyes slowly opened. He looked around him wondering sleepily at his stranger surroundings. He remembered and smiled. This was Impatien’s room. He was in Impatien’s bed. He felt a pang of disappointment steal through him as he realized that Impatien was no longer there with him. But then the light through the window told him that it was well past the time that Impatien was supposed to leave with Mr. Muddyfoot. ‘Surely she has not left yet.’ he said to himself.

Frodo sat up and looked around the room. His clothes were laying neatly on a chair by the door. Impatien must have done that as he could clearly remember being in the sitting room when his clothes had come off and neatness had not been a concern at the time. Blushing and smiling happily to himself, Frodo got up and got dressed. When he opened the door to leave Impatien’s room he was greeted by silence. "Impatien?" he called, but knew that there would be no answer. ‘Perhaps she is outside,’ he said to himself. As he walked down the short hallway towards the sitting room and kitchen area, Frodo was struck at how bare the old hobbit house was. Most of the furnishings were being left for the use of the new tenants, but the absence of those small effects that make a house a home was profoundly noticeable.

In the sitting room, Frodo looked out the window expecting to see Mr. Muddyfoot’s wagon, sitting and waiting for Impatien to be ready to leave, but the dooryard was empty. Frodo frowned and turned away. He looked around the room. The hearth was cold. ‘Impatien would have gone next door for her breakfast, this morning.’ He looked towards the row of pegs on the wall by the door. Only his green cloak was there. Impatien must have put it there this morning. Frodo remembered not letting her take it when he arrived the previous evening. Later it had been the first article of clothing to hit the floor when their desires had overcome them. Impatien’s deep purple cloak was gone.

Frodo looked around the room. The silence was oppressing. With every breath, he hoped to hear Impatien come in through the front door. On his second glance around the room, he noticed an envelope sitting on the mantel. At first Frodo had ignored it, assuming that it was a letter for Anwise and Hanna Roper. He walked over to the fireplace to take a closer look. The name written on the envelope in Impatien’s delicate hand was his.

Frodo felt a lump form in his throat. With one shaking hand he reached up for the creamy white envelope. He did not need to open it to know that Impatien had left. Without waking him to say goodbye, she had left.

Frodo turned away from the fireplace. With a heavy heart he walked over to where his cloak hung by itself. Mechanically he took his cloak down and draped it over his shoulders. One cold hand still held her letter, the other cold hand reached forward to open the front door. Frodo let himself out of Impatien’s house without a care for who might see him leave. The morning air had a cold bite to it. When Frodo exhaled his breath plumed out in front of him. Frodo looked around the dooryard. It was shaded by a large maple true with leaves that were now fiery red for autumn. Frodo’s gaze fell on Impatien’s flowerbeds. They were filled with mounds of pale pink and white blossoms of the flower she was named for. But this morning the impatien blooms were drooping and withered beneath the weight of an early frost.

 

 





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