Chapter 18. Of Gossip and Gardeners

Samwise returned from Bag End shortly before supper. He was more silent than usual, pushing Mrs Cotton’s good stew around his plate without eating much of it, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t even seem to notice Merry sweet-talking Rosie Cotton, making her laugh and blush.

’What is the matter, Sam?’ Frodo asked at last.

’O Mr Frodo,’ Sam said, starting and looking up. ‘Naught,’ he said. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’

 ‘You could have fooled me,’ Pippin said. ‘You’ve a face as long as a rainy day, Samwise.’

Now that everyone was looking at him, Sam felt even more tongue-tied, but he did his best to answer.

’We got all those sheds that were blocking the windows at Bag End pulled down,’ he said, ‘but p’rhaps we ought to have left them standing.’

’Whatever do you mean, Sam?’ Frodo asked, puzzled.

’With the light coming in the windows, dirty as they are, the smial looks even worse,’ Sam said miserably. ‘I’m afraid it’ll be quite awhile before the place is habitable... if we can manage to get the smell out at all, that is.’

’Perhaps you oughtn’t to let Lobelia give it back to you, Frodo,’ Merry said lightly, but Sam didn’t smile.

’Don’t worry, Samwise,’ Farmer Cotton said with sudden insight. ‘Your master isn’t going to be thrown out in the cold, after all. I’ve already told him he’s welcome to stay as long as he wishes.’

Sam brightened. ‘Is that right, Mr Frodo?’ he said.

’And that goes for yourself as well, Master Samwise,’ the good farmer added. ‘There’ll be a pillow for your head and a place at table until you find your own place again. I’m afraid your old gaffer and Marigold don’t have any room for you at present.’

’We’ll build the Gamgees a new hobbit hole, better than the old one!’ Frodo said. ‘Why, I imagine if that gravel pit were levelled off, ‘twould make a nice sheltered garden. And who’s to say we couldn’t dig more hobbit holes into the Hill?’

’Mr Frodo, you’re a wonder,’ Sam said admiringly.

’That’s why he’s Mayor, you know,’ Merry said smugly.

’Deputy Mayor,’ Frodo corrected.

’Such a stickler for detail, cousin, it’s what makes you a great Mayor,’ Merry said, unruffled. ‘More stew, if you please, Mrs Cotton, and I think I could put away at least another half-dozen slices of that bread your sweet Rosie baked...’

’How about us?’ Pippin broke in. All looked at him questioningly, and he repeated, ‘How about us? Will you take Merry and me in as well?’ Though he wore a grin, Frodo looked at him sharply.

’If’n they ever run out of rooms at the Great Smials or Brandy Hall, we’ll have rooms for you lads,’ Farmer Cotton said, going along with the joke.

’You’ll have to wash dishes for your keep!’ Mrs Cotton said smartly, and everyone laughed.

’I’ll be moving in soon, anyhow,’ Merry said, taking another piece of Rosie’s excellent bread.

’Eh? What’s that, young fellow?’ the good farmer asked.

Merry pretended to duck his head in embarrassment. ‘Er, that is,’ he stammered, ‘as soon as Miss Rose accepts my suit. I’ve asked her twice now to marry me, but she always puts me off.’

’O Mr Merry!’ Rosie said, blushing prettily.

Merry lowered his voice and peered around the table, saying in a conspiratorial tone, ‘You don’t think there’s someone else there before me, do you?’

’Not hardly!’ Pippin guffawed, while Samwise turned a deep red and paid strict attention to his stew.

’Good,’ Merry said, apparently satisfied.

Hearing the laughter from the kitchen, Rosamunda smiled. ‘Soon you’ll be strong enough to get up and join the family at table,’ she said to Fredegar, ‘but only if you eat your supper now!’

’Yes, Mother,’ Freddy said, dutifully plying his fork. He knew now that the wizard’s promise of his parents taking him home to bury him was a lie, and he knew that the ruffians were not about to beat him for taking a forkful of good food, but knowing was not quite enough. He ate up everything on his plate, as he knew he ought, but did not ask for more.

***

The next morning, Merry and Pippin departed once again. ‘We’ve more dragons to slay!’ Pippin carolled as he mounted his pony.

’See if you can throw out a few ruffians whilst you’re at it!’ Frodo called, and Pippin drew his sword and waved it in reply.

’Coming, Merry?’ Pippin said.

’In a moment,’ Merry answered. He stopped before Rose, saying, ‘Ah, Miss Rosie, that breakfast was a delight to the eye and the taste! Will you not change your mind and marry me?’

’What’ll you do if she says yes?’ Frodo laughed.

’Why, marry her, of course!’ Merry answered promptly. Taking Rose’s hand, he bowed over it and said, ‘Well, Rosie? Will you make me the happiest hobbit in the Shire?’

’Go on with ye, now, Master Meriadoc!’ Rose laughed, pulling her hand away. ‘Folk will start to talk, with you going on that way!’

’Let them gossip away!’ Merry said gaily, putting his hand to his heart. His smile faded as he looked tenderly at his fingers. ‘Ah,’ he sighed. ‘The touch of her hand. I shall never wash again.’

’You’re as bad as Freddy ever was!’ Frodo scolded when he could control his laughter.

’Come along, Merry, before we perish of old age!’ Pippin said impatiently, and with a sweeping bow to the Cottons, Merry danced down the steps and vaulted onto his pony without touching the stirrups, a feat that drew much admiration from the Cotton lads.

’It’s a trick he learned in Rohan,’ Frodo said aside to Farmer Cotton. He stretched and said, ‘Well, I’ll go see how Freddy’s doing.’

He found his cousin sleeping, having consumed his own breakfast, with his father by his side.

’How is he this morning?’ Frodo said.

’He’s a little stronger, I think,’ Odovacar replied. ‘We’ll be able to take him home soon, I hope.’

’And a happy homecoming I hope it will be,’ Frodo said fervently.

’What’s that?’ Odo said, eyeing him sharply.

’He thought... what do you know of the Voice of Saruman?’ Frodo asked, instead of answering the question directly.

’Saruman... that was Sharkey’s real name,’ Odo said slowly. ‘I’d heard a rumour that he could make anyone believe anything, and that what he spoke became truth. If he pronounced a curse on a tree, it would wither and die, and the same went for a hobbit.’

’His Voice was all that was left to him after Gandalf broke his staff and cast him out of Orthanc,’ Frodo said.

Odovacar nodded. ‘You’ve told us a little of that tale,’ he said, ‘but I think there is much more to be told.’

’It is a long tale,’ Frodo said. ‘A long tale indeed,’ he added softly, and thought again of the monumental task set before him, of writing it all down lest it be forgotten and lost. Hobbits must know what had happened, what could happen if they lived in ignorant complacency. They must know what had happened, that they might place a true value on the peace and safety that had been hard-won by so many Men and Elves and Dwarves... and hobbits.

’Saruman’s Voice was all that was left to him,’ Frodo said again, ‘but it was powerful for all that. He told Freddy that you’d take him home to die, and Freddy believed him.’

Odovacar sat stunned. ‘Take him home to die?’ he echoed. His hand tightened on Freddy’s.

’It was a lie, like so many of Saruman’s words,’ Frodo said.

’But you said that Freddy believed him,’ Odo replied. ‘Does that—does that mean--?’

’It means you must watch over him very closely,’ Frodo said. ‘Talk to him, get him to talk to you, draw him out.’ He dropped his eyes. ‘It is not my place to tell you how to be a father to your son...’ He was surprised to hear Odovacar chuckle.

’There were a few times that I spoke to Bilbo, though he was more years my senior than I am to you, about how to be a proper “father” to the young Bucklander he took under his wing.’

Frodo digested this information, and suddenly chuckled. ‘It was you!’ he said, pointing an accusing finger.

’What was that?’ Odo asked.

’You were the bedtime stories!’ Frodo said, trying to contain his amusement such that he would not waken Freddy. He saw that Odovacar was mystified, and explained. ‘Bilbo got it into his head that he ought to be tucking me into bed and reading me bedtime stories, and me a tween at the time!’

’Ah,’ Odo said with his own smile, imagining the scene. ‘I guess he mistook my meaning.'

’It all worked out very well,’ Frodo said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘As soon as we got a few things straight, he worked out the bedtime stories... it turned into a glass of brandy in his study, whilst he read to me from his Translations from the Elvish, or told me old tales of heroic deeds.’ He sighed. ‘How I’d love to listen to his voice rolling out the words again.’

’Are you going back to see him?’ Odo asked.

Frodo sighed. ‘Not soon,’ he replied. ‘There’s too much to be done here. I don’t even know, yet, if we can make the Shire what it once was.’ He thought of Elrond’s words. He didn’t see how he could return to Rivendell anytime in the next year, and wasn’t he to look for Bilbo when the leaves began to fall?

’We can do our best,’ Odovacar said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

’Yes, that we can,’ Frodo said.

’After the warriors and hunters finish the task of throwing out the ruffians, it’ll be up to the gardeners,’ Odo said. ‘I’ve been talking a bit to your Samwise,’ he added. ‘He is determined that the Shire will be green again.’

’Then I’m sure it shall be,’ Frodo answered. ‘Sam is a wonder when he sets his mind to something.’