Chapter Ten: A Talk in the Garden

Frodo was in Bag End’s garden several days after the talk at Number 3. He was working without gloves. His hand had long healed enough that he didn’t need to worry about infection and he liked to feel the dirt and grass and flowers.

He looked up surprised when he saw Marigold standing near him with a glass of lemon water in her hand. This was the first time she had come since she had learned of her brother’s death. Normally it was the Gaffer who came to make sure he was being looked after. Frodo did not feel worthy that any of them should come and even asked Sam if he was behind it, but a proud Sam told him with a large smile told him that they were doing it themselves.

"I thought you would be thirsty, Mr. Frodo," Marigold said.

Frodo stood and tried not to think of all the times he had brought out water to a sweating, grateful Sam. "Thank you, Marigold," he said softly. "That was very kind of you."

"You’re welcome, Mr. Frodo," the lass said, then her gaze was arrested as she looked at Frodo’s maimed hand.

"What happened to your finger?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Sam didn’t say nothing ’but that and I didn’t notice it before."

Frodo colored slightly. He paused for a long time and Marigold began to apologize for being so forward.

"No, no," the elder hobbit said and then tried to think of a way to tell her. "I lost it when I lost the Ring. I was wearing it at the time and I shouldn’t have been."

Marigold’s eyes widened. Before she could think better of it, she took Frodo’s hand and wrapped her warm fingers around his cold ones. She and Sam had always been the ones to rescue injured chicks and birds and nurse them back to health. Frodo reminded her of one of those poor little ones who needed some extra tender loving care. "Sam told us the Ring went into the Fire. I’m sorry you lost anything, but I’m glad it was only your finger."

Oh, but I lost so much more than that. He looked into her eyes for a moment and her breath and heart caught at the sight of so much torment.

"I will tell you a secret, Mr. Frodo," she said as she looked down at his hand and began to stroke it gently. Part of her was horrified at her boldness but another part applauded her courage. "Daisy, May and I had the wildest liking for you when you first came. You were the most beautiful lad we had ever seen and we were crazed with jealousy that our Sam saw you each day and we could only see you if you called or if you were out by yourself or with Sam or Mr. Bilbo. We would beg Sam to tell us everything you said and did. When Mum would have him bring some cake or other sweet over to you and Mr. Bilbo, we always told him to bring it to you in the hopes then when he brought back the basket, we would have something that you had touched."

Frodo blushed furiously, at a total loss as to how to respond.

Marigold looked up into Frodo’s tormented eyes. "None of us understand much of what you and Sam left to do, not even my brothers and our Gaffer who know a lot more about it than he told me and my sisters. But the one thing we do know is that Rosie is right: our Sam has never stopped loving you and he never loved no one who weren’t worthy of it. You may think, Mr. Frodo, that whatever that horrible ring did to you, that you are now a terrible person, but none of us think you are, not our Gaffer or our brothers or Daisy or May or Rosie or me. My sisters and I all remember the bright, lovely person we fell in love with, just like Sam did."

Here Marigold paused and smiled and blushed a bit. "Well, not exactly like Sam I suppose. He didn’t spend all day giggling and walking up and down the hill trying to see you, then squealing and running to hide when you did come out and breathlessly watching you where you couldn’t see us. The only thing we really did have in common was that we couldn’t stop talking about you. Always a light you had about you, like you were carrying sunshine with you even on a cloudy day. Sam called it your Elf-light. I can see it even now and I know it wouldn’t still be there if you had become a bad person."

She wiped at the tears that streamed down Frodo’s cheeks and then kissed his cheek softly. "Believe in your own goodness, Mr. Frodo. It’s still there. We can all see it. Now you have to look in the mirror and see it for yourself."