42. Helping and Parting

Peregrin Took quickly glanced around the crowded field and snatched another biscuit off the table. The thing was bigger than his hand, but he managed to get half of it into his mouth before someone else’s hand came down on his small shoulder.

"Pippin, I know you heard Momma say no more snacks before supper is brought out," Pearl said severely.

Pippin chewed for another minute, just until his mouth was empty enough to speak, and said, "That was hours ago. I'm hungry now!"

"That was ten minutes ago, and you know it. And look! They're already clearing away the snacks for supper."

Pippin stared at his sixteen-year-old sister beseechingly and clutched his remaining half-biscuit possessively.

Pearl fluffed out the skirts of her new blue dress and rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, finish that one. Just try not to get any more crumbs on your shirt."

Pearl ran off to join a nearby group of chattering lasses, and Pippin stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. Then, with a speed that would make any thief proud, he grabbed another four off the plate and tucked them into the pockets of his waistcoat. The wretched thing had a use after all!

He walked nonchalantly away from the food-laden table, hoping his pockets didn't bulge too noticeably. The field was crowded with hobbits celebrating his cousin Merry's birthday, but Pippin didn't see Merry anywhere about. The small lad looked around again, trying to detect his cousin among the forest of legs all around him, but to no avail. Perhaps Frodo would be easier to find. Pippin altered course and headed for the stable. He thought he had seen Frodo over there a few minutes ago, on the fringes of the crowd.

Sure enough, his older cousin was perched on a hitching rail, watching the partygoers. Pippin approached and held out a biscuit. "I took this for you before they took them away," he said shyly. He was dismayed to see the treat had gotten slightly smushed in his pocket.

Frodo looked down in surprise but smiled warmly when he saw Pippin. "Thank you," he said, accepting the biscuit gravely.

Pippin grinned back. He wanted to be just like Frodo when he was older.

"Would you like to sit up here, Pippin?" Frodo asked.

Pippin nodded eagerly, and Frodo hopped off the rail to help him up. They had hardly begun to eat their biscuits when Merry appeared.

"Frodo! Pippin!" he exclaimed, red-faced and breathless from excitement. "What are you doing all alone over here?"

"We're not alone," Pippin said, puzzled. "I'm with Frodo, and he's with me."

"Silly Took," Merry laughed. "Have you got another one of those?"

Pippin nodded and retrieved another half-crumbled biscuit from his pocket.

"Oh, your sisters are looking for you, Pip," Merry added between mouthfuls, just as Pearl spotted him and marched over.

Pippin clambered down. Merry and Frodo sat in silence as Pippin toddled toward his sister, still clutching his biscuit.

"Are you all right, Frodo?" Merry asked after a moment.

"Yes," Frodo replied. "I'm sorry I haven't been much fun lately."

Merry shrugged. "I'm glad you came anyway. I don't like you being so far away." He wasn't sure exactly what Frodo had gotten up to the last few days, but it had been easy to see his cousin was troubled about something.

"I'm glad I came, too," Frodo said, putting his arm around Merry and giving him a quick hug. "I don't get to see you nearly often enough."

Merry grinned, suddenly knowing what to say. "I must give you your birthday present!" The younger lad exclaimed. He handed over a flat bundle.

Frodo opened it to find a parcel of very fine writing parchment. He laughed. "I'll write you letters, you wily Brandybuck, but you'd better write back!"

"I will," Merry said earnestly. "But you're older, so you have to start. Now, I see supper being brought out over there. Let's go before Pippin gets a chance to eat it all!"

Frodo sat relaxing under a tree as the party wound down. Parents were beginning to round up the youngest children, and servants were clearing away the remains of the feast.

The tween finished the last bite of his apple and sighed. It had been an enjoyable party. Frodo couldn't recall the last time he'd seen so much food in one place. And since it was a child's party there had been no dancing. In Frodo's experience, parties with dancing tended to make the lasses behave even more ridiculously than usual, although if he wanted to be honest with himself, he had to admit he liked watching them dance.

He supposed the visit hadn't been all bad; it only seemed that way because the bad part had been so very distressing. It was wonderful to spend time with Merry again, and get to know Pippin.

Frodo couldn't bring himself to regret going to his parents' smial. The visit had distressed him, but still... they would always be his parents, and he had no wish to pretend that meant nothing to him. Perhaps one day he would be ready to go back there, memories and all. It was just a pity he couldn't take back how he had acted afterwards.

Frodo watched Poppy come out the kitchen door, her lips pursed grimly as she began to clear a table. He had been avoiding someone who had always been kind to him, and there was no excuse for that. Frodo stared thoughtfully. There was perhaps one thing he could do for Poppy, at least, if Bilbo could be persuaded to stay one more day...

April 5, 1395

"Come on, Alice!" Alar Goodchild said in exasperation.

Alice merely looked at him with her great cow eyes and returned her concentration to grinding grass between her molars.

"Fine then, ye great beast. I'll leave your picket line right here and ye can just crop this patch bare."

Alar turned his back on his stubborn cow and returned to the barn to carry out the rest of his chores. On his way across the yard, he spied a lone figure walking up the lane to the farmhouse. Alar halted in surprise. He didn't get many visitors, and he usually liked it that way.

Who would be calling at this hour? One of the neighbours to borrow something, perhaps? The farmer stared, momentarily wishing it could be Poppy.

He dusted off his hands and came around the side of the house just as his visitor reached the front step and lifted his hand to knock.

Alar hesitated. It was a well-dressed young hobbit, perhaps in his mid-tweens; certainly not one of the neighbours. He was slightly built and fair-skinned, clearly not accustomed to labouring on a farm. What did a young gentlehobbit want with him? Alar cleared his throat and waited until the dark-haired lad saw him. "Somethin' I can help ye with?" he said.

"Good day to you, Mr. Goodchild," the younger hobbit said politely. "Frodo Baggins at your service. May I speak with you?"

"Er, all right, young fellow," Alar said reluctantly, and opened the door for his visitor. He was more puzzled than ever. The name sounded familiar, but he was certain he didn't know any Bagginses.

Alar and Frodo seated themselves at the table by the hearth, and Alar self-consciously hoped he didn't smell too much of Alice.

"I hope you don't think it odd of me to call on you like this," Frodo began awkwardly. "I know Poppy Puddifoot."

Alar started and looked at the boy suspiciously. Someone from Poppy's work, then. He knew some of those lads at Brandy Hall were rascals. Just the other day at the market, old Maggot had been complaining that another one had been pilfering his mushrooms. Contrary to Maggot's usual habit, he hadn't named the offender, but cautious Alar was generally wary of any hobbit he didn't know.

Did this boy mean to make trouble for him and Poppy? He had enough difficulty finding a suitable time and place to discuss marriage as it was; he hadn't seen her at all in a month, and with every passing day he grew more afraid she would forget him. Of course, the reason he couldn't act yet was that he knew how important it was to Poppy that these things be done properly. With her family so far away and none of them having the time or means to travel, he didn't see how it could be accomplished in the near future. It was a maddening quandary.

When Alar didn't say anything, Frodo pressed on. "I also know Bell Gamgee in Hobbiton. Her husband works for my cousin Bilbo. I believe she is a cousin of yours?"

"Aye. Aye, Bell and I are second cousins," Alar stammered, for he had finally been able to place the boy's name. This was the lad Poppy was so fond of, who had gone away to Hobbiton to live with that queer adventurer. Alar hadn't seen Bell in years, but he'd heard through the usual relatives that his cousin thought highly of this boy as well. But the question remained, what did Frodo want with him?

"How is Bell?" Alar asked in a more pleasant tone. He knew he was shy and awkward; he had never been good with words.

"Very well," Frodo said, not seeming to notice the change in Alar's tone. "She tries to spoil me rotten with her baking, I'm afraid."

"Aye, that sounds like Bell," Alar agreed.

The awkward silence fell again, and Alar shifted on the hard bench.

"Well, I shan't keep you from your work, Mr. Goodchild," Frodo said finally. "I wanted to ask if you would have tea with me this afternoon."

Alar stared at Frodo, flabbergasted. A strange turn of events indeed. What was this boy up to? But he accepted the invitation politely as he opened the door for Frodo, because he couldn't think of a good reason not to. What could a young gentlehobbit possibly have to say to him? More to the point, what would he find to say to Frodo?"

Alar watched the tween walk away and then trudged back to the barn, wishing he could have thought of a decent reason to refuse the invitation.

Frodo made it back to Brandy Hall in time for elevenses. It was nearly a two-hour walk from Alar's farm; it was no wonder Poppy didn't see him often.

Of course, normally the lady's family would invite her suitor to their smial, and if they approved of him, leave the couple alone to make the arrangements for a wedding, but neither Poppy nor Alar had family in the area. Frodo didn't know much about courtship traditions, but he remembered enough of his conversation with Poppy five days ago to know that this one was important to her. Now that he had met her suitor, he had no doubt that Alar would also know how important it was to Poppy.

Frodo smiled to himself as he approached the kitchen to take care of the remaining detail. He only hoped Poppy wouldn't be affronted by his meddling.

"Miss Poppy?" Frodo caught the attention of the kitchen maid as she prepared to scrub an iron pot.

"Why, Mr. Frodo!" Poppy exclaimed. Frodo felt a stab of guilt when he saw how concerned she looked. "Are you all right, lad?"

"Yes," Frodo said hastily. "Please don't worry about me. I am very sorry about the other day."

"You've naught to be sorry for," Poppy replied, watching him quizzically. "Did ye get enough to eat at elevenses?"

"Yes, thank you," Frodo replied. "I only wanted to ask a favour. I've invited a guest to tea this afternoon, and I was hoping you'd have time to put some things together."

"Oh, o' course!" Poppy said fondly. "Will ye want it in the fourth sitting room? I don't think anybody's using it."

"That will be fine," Frodo said as he turned to leave. "Three o'clock. And make it something extra nice, please," he couldn't resist adding with a smile.

Shortly before three, Frodo sat alone in the fourth sitting room. It really was a nice room. Very small, but bright and clean and with fresh flowers in all the bowls. Frodo had never formally invited someone to tea before, and he felt rather silly doing it now.

He watched as Poppy backed into the room, bearing a tray laden with cups, plates, and steaming teapot. She laid them out very nicely on the table in front of Frodo.

"I'll just be right back with the food," Poppy said cheerfully.

Frodo returned her smile, and as soon as she was out of sight, got up and hurried down the hall in the other direction.

Alar was just being shown in, right on time.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Goodchild," Frodo said, and escorted the well-scrubbed but clearly nervous farmer back to the sitting room.

Frodo poured Alar a cup of tea, but none for himself. He didn't try to make small talk; somehow he thought that would make Alar even more uncomfortable than he already looked sipping tea from one of Brandy Hall's finest cups.

Finally the door opened again, and Frodo got up quickly. Alar rose also, out of politeness, but froze in surprise as Poppy came in.

Frodo hurried to take the tray from a very startled Poppy before she could drop it, and guided the unresisting kitchen maid into the chair he had just vacated. He poured tea for Poppy and motioned for Alar to take his seat again.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Goodchild," Frodo said. He could feel his face burning. He tried not to think of how Bilbo would laugh if he could see what his ward was up to right now. "I've just remembered, I have... an urgent engagement this afternoon. Miss Poppy, I hope you'll stay for a bit and keep Mr. Goodchild company."

Two shocked faces turned to Frodo, and Alar's expression slowly changed to one of understanding and amusement.

Frodo excused himself and made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him. He went to the kitchen and did what tasks he could so Poppy wouldn’t get behind schedule.  He waited an hour, hoping it was sufficient for the couple to reach an agreement.

When Frodo returned he knocked hesitantly on the door. He had certainly never done any matchmaking before, and hoped to never do any again. But he couldn't bear to see someone he cared about unhappy when he might be able to do something about it, and so he'd had to try, no matter how ridiculous he felt.

When Alar opened the door, Frodo suddenly realized he had no idea what one said in such a situation. He looked from one face to the other uncertainly.

"I'd best get back to the kitchen," Poppy said, rising from her chair. As she passed Frodo in the doorway, she took his face in her hands and kissed each cheek. "You're a darling boy, Mr. Frodo," she said.

Frodo flushed as Alar reached for his hand and shook it vigorously.

"Thank you," he said simply. "I shan't forget this. I know it ain't worth much, but if ever I can do anything for you, you've only to ask."

April 6, 1395

"Come back and see us again, dear," Esmeralda said, hugging Frodo tightly.

Frodo hugged her back, and then Saradoc and Merry, and little Pippin, who had insisted on coming with Merry to see him off.

Bilbo said his goodbyes and they set off down the road.

Frodo remembered the last time he had left Brandy Hall with Bilbo; that was over four years ago now. He looked up at his uncle's thoughtful face and smiled. It was good not to be alone in the world, very good indeed.