For Larner, on the occasion of her Birthday. 
If all goes well, a "Bucca" chapter will follow within a day or three.

Chapter 50. Thain: Onward

'We're here,' Frodo said, waking his young cousin from a doze as the hired coach eased to a stop before Bag End. At least, he thought Pippin had been asleep. These days, it was sometimes difficult to tell, especially when the lad's eyes were loosely covered with a bandage, as they were at the moment to shield them from the brightness of the Sun.

'Here?' the tween said fuzzily. Ah, so he had been asleep in truth.

'Bag End,' Frodo clarified.

'You made the ponies pull the coach all the way up the Hill?' Pippin said.

'Well I might have wakened you earlier so that you could do the honours!' Frodo said. 'But you were snoring so lustily, I could hardly get a word in edgewise.'

'I don't snore,' Pippin said with dignity.

'How would you know when you're asleep?' Frodo asked. The coach door opened then, pulled open from the outside, and he nodded to the waiting driver and took his cousin's arm to guide him towards the opening. 'Here now,' he said. 'Mind your step... Reach your toes down and feel for the step...'

The driver steadied Pippin from the outside as the lad stepped down out of the coach and onto the step he'd placed for the convenience of his passengers. 'Just one more step to reach the ground,' he muttered to the youth, just as Frodo was opening his mouth to do so.

Pippin nodded in the driver's general direction. 'My thanks, Arlo, old chap,' he said. 

Frodo's inward wince at the tween's casual – bordering on rude – "old chap" must have shown on his face, for the driver gave him a nod and a brief smile of reassurance.

Pippin eased one foot forward and off the step, his toes feeling for solid ground to step onto. 'What a turn it gives me when someone neglects to warn me to "watch that last step"!' he said, affecting cheer. Though neither of the adults was fooled, actually, Frodo and the driver remained silent rather than offering him reassurance or, worse, sympathy. The tween continued blithely, as if he hadn't a care in the world, 'I step out, expecting to find the ground, and end up in mid-air, flailing my wings... that is, I should do such a thing if I had any to flail...'

'Yessir,' the driver said, at last stopping the flow of words from the tween. 'Steady, sir.'

Frodo hopped down immediately after Pippin had both feet safely on the ground. 'No baggage,' he said cheerily. 'That's handy!'

'It'll become all the fashion,' Pippin agreed, and then he turned his head once more towards the owner of the helping hand. 'My thanks, Arlo.'

'You're most welcome, young master,' the driver returned, relinquishing the tween to his minder. Frodo, that was.

'There's a wider space just past the little stables where you can turn the coach around,' Frodo said. 'Are you quite sure...?' he added, slipping his hand inside his jacket.

'Quite,' the driver said. 'The Thain paid me well when he arranged for the coach before he left Waymeet, and he gave me strict instructions not to accept any money from you or anyone else, Mr Baggins... and he seems to have eyes everywhere, so he does! So keep your coin purse well out of sight, if you don't mind, that nobody should get the wrong idea and pass such news on to Himself.'

'I'd like to know how he does it,' Frodo muttered under his breath.

But Pippin chuckled. 'The Thain works in mysterious ways...' he quoted. 'At least, that's what I've heard people say...'

Arlo remained silent. Nor did he chuckle or even allow himself a passing smile at the tween's jest. 

In the back of his mind, Frodo heard an echo of Bilbo after one of their near-encounters with Lobelia. At the last minute, they had seen the old hobbit coming along the country lane and slipped over a dry stone wall, laying themselves flat against its base on the far side. Frodo had struggled to contain his laughter as the old harridan had passed by their hiding place, muttering bad-temperedly to herself, and only Bilbo's sharp pinch had averted the disaster of discovery. Afterward, when they were sure she was gone, they had stood up – cautiously, of course, and keenly gazing down the lane so they might see if she should turn back in their direction for some reason or other. 

As the two were brushing dirt and dried grass from their clothing, still keeping a wary eye on the lane in the direction Lobelia had gone, Bilbo had turned to the lad and said, Discretion, my lad, is the better part of valour, or so it has been said.

Better to avoid trouble than to have to stare it in the eye? had been Frodo's answer.

But Bilbo only snorted and said, Good. You understand the lesson.

From his lack of response in this instance, their driver had obviously learned the same lesson. 'Thank you again, Arlo,' Frodo said in dismissal. 'I'll give a good report of you to Thain Ferumbras when I see him again.'

'I appreciate that, Mr Baggins,' Arlo said.

As the driver mounted the coach once more, Frodo gave a final wave and then took Pippin's arm in a firm hold. 'Come along, cousin,' he said. 'We have arrived in time for tea – that may be true! – but I must confess, I fear that no tea has been prepared in time for us to enjoy it, so to speak. Nevertheless, we must keep our spirits up and hope for the best.'

'You mean, we'll have to stir up some tea ourselves, I suppose?' Pippin said brightly.

'I think not,' Frodo countered rather mysteriously, his expression brightening as he guided his younger cousin towards the large, round, green door. 'Now, wait here just a moment,' he added when they reached the main entrance to Bag End, and then he took his guiding hand from Pippin's arm.

'We're at the front entrance,' Pippin said to the air.

'How do you know?' Frodo asked in surprise.

'I can hear the rattle of the latch... That's got it,' the tween finished, cocking his head slightly. 'It's always been a bit sticky, but I heard the click just now. How odd that I never really noticed it before, to speak of! Perhaps everyone should go about with their eyes covered, that they might learn to use their other senses to the fullest!'

'I never tire of your nonsense, Pip,' Frodo said, 'which, I must say, is something of a wonder to me.'

'If you were to put on a blindfold, we could grope our way around the kitchen together... We might see how well we remember where to find things, and such,' Pippin suggested.

'How diverting!' Frodo said lightly. 'But... ah, yes,' he went on.

'What is it?' Pippin said, turning his head to listen to their surroundings.

'Behold! Gamgees approach, bearing baskets of bounty...' Frodo announced, following this news up with a cheery, 'Hullo, Sam... Mari...'

'We were watching for the coach,' Marigold said somewhat breathlessly.

'How serendipitous,' Pippin said. It was quite possible that he was trying to impress the older tween, but sadly enough for him, Marigold took no notice.

'Not at all,' Frodo told him. 'Yesterday, while you were still at breakfast, I sent a Quick Post rider to inform Master Hamfast that we were on our way, and to expect us just around this time.'

'And Dad sent me down the Hill to let Missus Goodbody know – and she's been cooking up a storm, as if there's no tomorrow, ever since!' Marigold said, maintaining a cheerful tone despite the look of distress in her eyes upon beholding Pippin's sightless state.

But Pippin tilted his head to one side. 'That doesn't make sense,' he protested. 'Why would one cook up a storm if there were no tomorrow to allow you to eat it all up again?'

Marigold scoffed credibly, managing to hide her pity and dismay. 'Goodness!'

But Sam was all business. 'Come along, Mari,' he said, and to Frodo, he added, 'Shall we put these baskets in the kitchen for you to unpack, or would you prefer we put everything away in the pantries, Master Frodo?'

'The kitchen will be fine, and thank you, Samwise,' Frodo replied. 'You mustn't let your own tea go cold...'

'No matter,' Sam began, but Frodo countered him.

'Indeed it does matter, Sam! It matters to me, at least...!'

'Yessir,' Sam said, quenched, but Frodo shook his head at him.

'And none of that "sir" business,' he said.

'Yessir,' Sam replied again, but he had the grace to blush, torn between two masters as he was, in a manner of speaking. Sam's old dad was a stickler for the proprieties.

Frodo managed to suppress a sigh. 'Come along, Pip,' he said to his young cousin. 'Let's lead the way to the kitchen and settle you in a chair where you can chatter away to your heart's content as I sort out Mrs Goodbody's bounty and stir up something-or-other...'

'No need,' Marigold interrupted, and then it was her turn to blush. 'Begging your pardon, sirs, but there's two large loaves here, one for tea and another for breakfast, along with fresh-churned butter from the Cottons' farm and a crock of my Aunt Lily's bramble-berry jam, and Sam's got new-laid eggs and fresh cheese and little sausages and tomatoes and greenstuffs from the market, and a jug of fresh milk, all to hold you over until the morrow... along with the teacakes Missus Goodbody baked, and two roasted chickens, and...'

'Well now,' Pippin said, rubbing his hands together. 'That does sound promising!' Meanwhile, Frodo thought to himself that it was something of a wonder that they'd managed, somehow, to fit what sounded like the contents of an entire larder into only four baskets, large as they might be. At least he knew well enough not to insult them by offering to relieve one or the other of them of some of the burden, though he felt sorely tempted when he saw Marigold lower one of her heavy baskets to the ground, to rest her arm as the talk went on.

The best he could do was to shorten the conversation, it seemed. 'Come along, Pip,' Frodo repeated, taking the tween's arm in a firm grip and giving a tug.

Whether Frodo was eager for his own meal, or he was thinking of the Gamgees, Samwise and Marigold did not know, but the young master propelled his younger cousin fairly rapidly to the kitchen despite the lad's shortcomings, and soon had him settled in a chair by the hearth, where a fire was already going and the teakettle was steaming gently. In less time than it might take to tell, Frodo had directed Sam and Mari to deposit their baskets on the well-scrubbed table and sent them to their own tea.

Back at Number 3 Bagshot Row, just below Bag End, Hamfast had his own ideas on the matter. 'Didn't want our tea to go cold!' he said appreciatively as he removed the cosy from the teapot and nodded to Marigold to pour out. 'Isn't that the young master all over! Takes after Mister Bilbo, he does, in terms of kindness and consideration...'

Tender-hearted Samwise blinked away a tear at this reminder of old Mister Bilbo's departure, and Marigold patted his hand before offering the plate of sandwiches and asking him if he wanted chicken or ham to start?

'Ham,' Sam answered, rather huskily, it must be said. But then, mention of Mister Bilbo was enough to dampen the spirits of any Gamgee. He'd been a fine master, always appreciative of their efforts, always ready to commend their work, and prompt and generous in paying for their services. His sudden departure had been a shock and a sorrow to them, and as the years stretched on with no word from or even of the old hobbit, any possibility of his return seemed ever more unlikely.

At least he hadn't taken young Master Frodo – Mister Frodo, that is, though sometimes one or another of the Gamgees forgot in addressing the younger Baggins – with him to the ends of Middle-earth or wherever it was he had gone. Hopefully they could look forward to tending the garden at Bag End for years, and if all went as it ought, perhaps decades to come.

***