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A Centenary of Special Significance  by Baggins Babe

5 Afteryule, 1431 SR

 

Frodo started up, heart pounding. When he realised he was safe in his bedroom at Bag End he leaned back on the pillows, puffing out a breath in relief. Rufus lifted his head and surveyed his Master with concern and little Sooty toddled over, purring and head-butting.

       "I'm alright, my lads. Just a nightmare. Don't have so many these days, thank goodness." He stroked the two cats and gazed happily around his room. It was still dark outside on a winter morning and the gentle light from the little oil lamp high on the shelf sent flickering friendly shadows dancing round the walls. He had dreamed of Shelob's lair, of cobweb sticky on his face, red eyes in the gloom, the stench in his nostrils. He knew why - the previous afternoon he had been rearranging the wine bottles in the cellar and decided to investigate a section which had not been used for years. As he walked through to the next bay he had walked straight into a cobweb which brushed across his face. His cry of surprise had brought Sam, Rose and the children running, which made him feel very foolish. At least these days such incidents did not cause him hours or days of distress and he had been fine within a minute.

       His pocket watch said half-past six and Frodo realised he would not settle back to sleep after that, so he rose, donned his dressing-gown, went to the privy, washed his hands and face and made his way to the kitchen. He stoked the fire, which had been well-banked the previous evening, adding fresh kindling. Once the flames were blazing nicely he piled on the logs and hung the kettle over it to boil. He then stoked the stove which heated the tank of hot water behind it, and did the same in the larger bathroom, where a second tank supplied hot water to the two large bathing-rooms and the nursery.

      While the kettle came to the boil, Frodo went into the pantry and emerged with a side of smoked bacon, some sausages, eggs and mushrooms. He sliced a dozen rashers to start things off, and set the frying pan on the stove. By the time Sam wandered in, still ruffling his hair and yawning, breakfast was almost ready.

                                                                         ************

       Nick Cotton's whistling was heard outside, together with the clattering of milk churns. Sam fetched the empty ones from the pantry while Rose opened the door.

       "Got time for breakfast?"

       "Not this mornin' - much as I'd love to. Da needs me to go up to Overhill to pick up the new boar."  Nick placed a large jug of cream and a good-sized cheese on the table.

       "Here we are then, Nick - a bacon and mushroom sandwich!" Frodo handed over the aromatic treat and Nick's eyes lit up.

       "Thanks, Mister Frodo. That's a real sandwich that is! There was a letter from our Nibs this morning. I'm looking forward to hearing his news when I get back to the farm."

       Nick had only been gone a matter of minutes when there was a loud knocking at the front door. Frodo hastened down the passage and opened the door to the posthobbit.

       "Morning, Roly. Must be a bit crisp out there."

       "Morning, Mister Frodo. Certainly is a bit nippy. Got letters from Gondor here - and from Nibs, by the look of things." Roly handed over the packets.

       "Thank you. Lots of news to catch up on. They should be leaving Edoras by now, but this was probably given to a messenger near Isengard. I hope Blossom is coping - travel can be exciting but it makes some folk uncomfortable."

       Clutching a number of letters, Frodo hurried back to the kitchen, where seven expectant faces turned towards him.

       "One for you, Rose - Arwen's writing. A letter from Aragorn for us, Sam, and one from Nibs."

       "Hope his writing's improved," murmured Rose. She surveyed the envelope, chuckled and opened it, scanning the page and frowning.

       "What does Uncle Nibs say?" asked Ellie impatiently. Her mother stirred her tea and read the letter aloud.

Dear Sis, Sam and Mister Frodo............... Frodo tutted and Rose giggled.

       Having to finish this in a Rush, as a Kings Mesenger is on his way North to Bree and is camped with us tonite. He very kindly Offered to take our letters so we are all busy riting. Blossom is doing very well with all this Travel but we are with Elves and Rangers so feel very Safe.

Captain Erithain has been adopted by Master Freddy and is Bullied all day - are all Tooks so Bossy?He is very sad but Freddy's chatter seems to Cheer him up and we have Heard him Larf a bit. Mister Brand has asked Him to Visit the Shire next Year. His son and foster-son are Both with us and seem very nice Lads. Hard to think they are only Tweens and Rangers alreddy.

We are at Isengard where that Sharkey lived tho it is Quiet now. We have seen an Ent - Blossom was so ecksited she nearly screemed. He is called Quickbeam and is real kind Freddy just went to him and said Hello. That child is Never afrade of anything.

Hope you are keeping Well.

Love Nibs and Blossom.

       "Sounds as though they're enjoying their journey," Sam remarked, wiping Pip-lad's face with a cloth.

       Frodo nodded. "I remember Erithain - he was Halbarad's brother, and his eldest son was killed at the same time, on the Pelennor."

       "Wasn't he the one who lost his wife and daughter when their village was raided by Dunlendings?"

       "Lost his wife and daughter?" Ellie asked, looking startled.

       "They were killed, sweetling," said Frodo softly.

       "Aye, and not just killed," Sam muttered darkly in his wife's ear. Rose looked up, horrified.

       "You mean................?"

       "His daughter was fourteen or so, if I remember rightly. The whole village was massacred. Only his son and the other lad survived, so Strider said, and that was because they were hiding in the woods."

       "Poor man, no wonder he's sad. Of course they should come here!" Rose sounded concerned.

       "Bless you, sweet Rose, and that compassionate heart. Aragorn says the Shire has the power to heal hurts and perhaps that is what Erithain needs. To lose nearly all his family must be a terrible grief."

       "Read Uncle Estel's letter now!" said young Fro, wriggling in his seat. Assorted drawings and notes from the Royal children tumbled out as Frodo opened the letter and he handed them to Fro and Ellie, who bore them off into the corner to show the younger children.

       "Read yours first, Rose." Frodo settled himself at the table once more, and poured himself another cup of tea.

       Rose broke the seal on Arwen's letter and scanned it. She was soon laughing uproariously and it took some time to control her giggles. Finally she cleared her throat and began:

My dearest small sister,

Estel is being absolutely impossible! When he is not poking in cupboards and peering into drawers looking for presents (which he will not find because they are in the Steward's Wing, under lock and key) he is grumbling about the lack of cake for the Great Day and muttering because I have forbidden him to use the Palantir to watch the road to see who is coming. My brothers will laugh themselves silly when they see him - he was exactly the same when they would not take him on patrol with them, although that was 90 years ago!! Do they ever grow up, Rose? I'm sure two trolls, a group of orcs and a dragon would be less trouble! I think I have four children, not three.

We were all so happy to read your last letter and learn that you are carrying another child - what a loving family you are, and how delighted Frodo must be. I hope things are going well for you and you are not too tired or queasy. I seem to remember you saying you felt worse with boys than girls and Frodo has said this will be a girl - or a lass, I should say. We shall miss you all on the day and it would have been a joy to see you again, but you need to take care of yourself.

Rufus sounds a wonderful cat - how brave of him to confront an adder to save the little ones. I am sure they love and appreciate him as much as he does them and they are lucky to have him.

Keep well, and I shall be thinking of you as the time draws near for the babe to be born.

My love always,

Arwen.

       Frodo was reading the letter from Aragorn and rolling about, clutching his ribs and gasping. Sam was almost helpless.

Beloved small brothers,

I am the victim of a triumvirate of tyranny! My wife, my Steward and my Steward's lady all conspire against me, hiding birthday gifts and forbidding me to look at the road between the Shire and Minas Anor. Even my children have been recruited to this dreadful conspiracy and follow me around constantly. Gilraen wags a finger at me and has threatened to take lessons in wielding a tea towel from her Aunt Rose. You will no doubt be laughing by now as you imagine your old friend cowed and hen-pecked. Venturing to war would be less dangerous than crossing Arwen at the moment, but we have signed a peace treaty with Harad and the Corsairs of Umbar show no inclination to start trouble, so I am behaving myself perforce.

I am sorry you cannot be here, but the news that Rose is to have another baby is wonderful. She and Sam are certainly doing as you asked and filling Bag End with a big family. I hope she is well, although my glimpses in the palantir show she is blooming and beautiful. I shall miss you at the party, my dearest hobbits, but I know you are happy in the Shire, and another new life will soon be entering the world.

Take care of yourselves, each other and the family. I hope brave Rufus is well. His behaviour in defending the children from the snake was intelligent and courageous. He is a true guardian and should be dubbed a Knight - Sir Rufus of Bag End.

I shall now go and throw myself into work. No doubt Faramir will have found another two hundred papers for me to sign, although I signed a similar number yesterday. Why do we need so much paper?  Where does it all come from? Life was less complicated when I was simply another Ranger patrolling the Wild - at least I never suffered from writer's cramp!

Your loving tall brother,

Strider

       The Bag End kitchen was full of laughter as everyone pictured the King peering into cupboards and grumbling to himself. Frodo shook his head, still giggling.

       "Oh Strider!" It was the only thing to say.





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