Chapter 44. Tea with Mistress Lobelia

The Southfarthing was in full bloom on this First day of March. Frodo got down from brown Strider with a pat for the pony’s neck. ‘Here we are, lad,’ he said. ‘We’ll be stopping over a day or three, and you ought to have a good rest.’

A hobbit, obviously a Bracegirdle from the pinched expression on his face, came out to take the pony. ‘Take good care of him,’ Frodo said. ‘He’s travelled far.’

’What, all the way from Hobbiton?’ the groom snorted.

’All the way from Gondor,’ Frodo corrected.

’Gondor! Never heard of it,’ the groom sniffed, and led the pony away, muttering under his breath.

A pleasant-featured hobbit lass with dark eyes and dark curls spilling out of her intricately-woven net came out of the doorway with a hospitable smile. ‘Cousin Frodo!’ she said. ‘Well come, indeed! You are just in time for tea.’

’I believe you have the advantage of me, cousin,’ Frodo said.

Laughing, she said, ‘Of course I do! I’ve heard nothing from Auntie Lobelia but “Frodo’s coming! I want every speck of dust wiped away. Frodo’s coming! Take the rugs out and beat them well!” I tell you,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘it got so that we dreaded the very mention of your name!’

’This is not an auspicious beginning,’ Frodo said with a wry smile.

’Not at all,’ she said, ‘and don’t you dare get back on your pony and leave, after all the trouble you’ve put us through!’ She smiled, putting out a shapely hand. ‘I’m your cousin Alyssum, married to Horatius Bracegirdle, Auntie Lobelia’s nephew by some tortuous family connexion that I have yet to fathom. I’m a north-Took, actually, only recently arrived in Southfarthing.’

’And how do you get along with the Bracegirdles?’ Frodo asked, taking the hand and bowing over it.

She laughed, a delightful sound. ‘I find them quite amusing, to tell you the truth,’ she said.

’They must find you quite—quite—‘ Frodo said, at a loss for words.

’Quite!’ she said decidedly, tucking Frodo’s hand into her arm and turning towards the house. ‘Tea is about to be served, and Auntie Lobelia’s a stickler for punctuality, you know!’

’Indeed,’ Frodo said. He wondered if all the north-Tooks were so lively and charming. Perhaps he ought to make a journey in that direction one of these days.

He was shown into an ancient parlour with not a speck of dust in sight, even with the curtains pulled back as far as possible to let in the streaming sunshine. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins sat in a comfortable chair near a cheerful fire, her feet propped up on a padded stool, a knitted rug over her knees.

’There you are at last,’ she snapped. ‘I thought you’d never get here. Sit down, Frodo!’

’It’s not quite teatime, Auntie,’ Alyssum said, bending to lay a kiss on the withered cheek. ‘I do believe the kettle is coming to the boil now, as a matter of fact.’

’I don’t hear anything,’ Lobelia said bad-temperedly. ‘You’re imagining things!’

’I’ll just go to the kitchen to see,’ Alyssum said with a smile, and was gone before the old hobbit could find further fault.

’Well?’ Lobelia said, turning her attention to Frodo. ‘I thought I told you to sit!’

Frodo sat. ‘How are you today, Lobelia?’ he asked.

’Well I’m not dead yet, that’s something,’ she muttered. Frodo had an absurd desire to laugh, but he maintained a sober expression and murmured something noncommittal.

’Hah!’ Lobelia exploded. ‘Don’t humour me, young hobbit! I know exactly what you’re thinking!’

’What am I thinking?’ Frodo asked.

’You’re thinking that now that Bag End’s about finished and ready to move in to, I’m going to take back my offer!’

’The thought had crossed my mind,’ Frodo admitted.

Lobelia eyed him narrowly. ‘At least you’re honest,’ she said. ‘What do you want for it?’

’It’s yours,’ Frodo said in surprise. ‘You bought and paid for it!’

’What about all the repair work, eh? Surely you sank a great many of Bilbo’s gold coins into the effort?’

’Nearly all I had left,’ Frodo admitted. ‘What need have I for gold? I live simply, spend time with friends, write, or walk, or just sit and watch the sky. Have you ever noticed how the sky changes from moment to moment?’

’Foolishness!’ she snapped. ‘You’ve gone round the bend just like that old Bilbo did before you!’

’Perhaps,’ Frodo said. ‘I’ve gone round the bend and back again, you might say. I’ve seen all I want to see; I’ve held all of Middle-earth in my hands, and had it slip away.’ He held out his right hand, and Lobelia gazed in silence at the missing finger until he placed the hand once more on his knee.

’What was the treasure Bilbo left you?’ the old hobbit hissed, and Frodo was not surprised at her guess. Surely she’d overheard Saruman’s bitter mutterings on black nights in Bag End.

’A Ring,’ Frodo said softly. ‘A little Ring, the least of Rings, with which the Dark Lord would have covered all of Middle-earth with Darkness terrible and unending.’ He looked out the window at the bright day. ‘No more spring, no sunshine, no bright blooms...’

’Sharkey wanted it, but you wouldn’t give it to him,’ Lobelia said.

Frodo laughed. ‘Not I,’ he said. ‘Do you think I could have stood against him? He wanted it, but he couldn’t find me. I was playing “I hide and you seek me”, and no one saw me creep under their noses into the Dark Land with my faithful Samwise.’

’Into the Dark Land? Whyever would you do such a foolish thing?’ Lobelia whispered.

’We threw it in the Fire, Gollum and I,’ Frodo said in a sing-song voice, as if he were repeating the last line of a nursery rhyme. ‘It is gone, now, all gone, and all is dark and empty.’ He sat staring at the hand on his knee a moment longer, until the fire popped and wakened him as if from a dream.

’What were we talking about?’ he asked in a normal tone. ‘I’m sorry, I seem to have lost my thought...’

Lobelia’s eyes were bright for some reason as she stared at him, and then she shook her head, wiped quickly at her cheeks, and said, ‘It doesn’t matter.’

’No,’ Frodo laughed. ‘I suppose if it is important it will come to me again.’

’Tell me what’s what,’ Lobelia ordered. ‘I heard your Samwise has been all over the Shire planting trees and sprinkling them with fairy dust, and that they finished that new row to take the place of Bagshot Row, and the folk have moved in already. What about the trees along the Avenue, did he re-plant those?’

They were deep in the doings of Hobbiton and Bywater when Alyssum returned with the tea tray. ‘Here you are!’ she carolled. ‘Tea and all the trimmings!’

’Thank you, my dear,’ Lobelia said, politely for her. ‘Leave the tray. I’ll ring if we want anything.’ Her hand touched an ornate bell on the table beside her. ‘Frodo, will you pour out?’ It was more demand than request, but Frodo jumped up from his chair to do the honours as Alyssum smiled and took herself off.

Frodo fixed a plate for Lobelia and poured out her tea to her satisfaction, then helped himself and settled back in his chair.

’How is that young rebel?’ Lobelia asked, picking up a sandwich, putting it to her mouth, and putting it down again untasted. The gesture reminded Frodo of something he couldn’t quite remember.

’Rebel?’ he asked.

’Young Fredegar Bolger,’ she snapped. ‘Pay attention when I’m talking to you!’ Frodo had been paying attention, but that was beside the point. ‘I heard his folks took him back to Budge Hall.’

Frodo noticed that Lobelia was curiously tense, awaiting his answer.

’He is not well, I’m sorry to say,’ he answered slowly.

’Dying!’ she gasped, a hand over her heart.

’Not quite, but it was a near thing,’ Frodo said. He found himself telling Lobelia about the apparent spell that Freddy and everyone around him had been under.

’Not eating, but thinking he’d eaten,’ Lobelia said slowly. She looked down at the sandwich in her hand and suddenly took an enormous and not very ladylike bite, chewing and swallowing before she spoke again. ‘I know I find myself robbed of appetite. Much of the time I have to remind myself to eat. Humph.’ She looked at the rest of the sandwich in her hand, then back to Frodo. ‘I don’t want Bag End,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m afraid the same thing would happen to me.’

’What?’ Frodo said, leaning forward, forgetting his own food.

’Eat!’ Lobelia said sharply. ‘You don’t have to starve yourself to listen to the tale!’ Frodo looked down, selected a sandwich, and ate. Lobelia nodded in satisfaction.

’Freddy was starving himself,’ Frodo said. ‘Is that what you meant?’

Lobelia nodded. ‘Slow starvation,’ she said. ‘Just like ...He said,’ she added. ‘...He said, “Death by slow starvation is exquisite torture. Most suited to hobbits, don’t you believe?” With that lad lying in my lap, dying, still the wizard felt the need to curse him with a terrible curse. The hobbits in that place told me how ...He’d come around, promising that they’d go home to die an agonising death. Curse him, wherever he’s ended up, that Sharkey!’ In her agitation, she knocked the bell over, and soon Alyssum popped her head in the door.

’Did you need anything?’ she asked cheerily.

’Just warm up the teapot, if you don’t mind, my dear,’ Lobelia said, covering her earlier distress, though pink spots still burned in her cheeks.

’Very well, Auntie,’ Alyssum said, taking the pot and leaving again with a wink for Frodo.

’Death by slow starvation,’ Frodo said slowly. Freddy’s troubles were becoming clear to him. Unconsciously he sought the comfort of the white jewel that hung at his neck, even as he heard Lobelia mutter about “pure evil”.

’What’s that?’ Lobelia asked sharply. ‘I thought you said Bilbo’s treasure was all gone!’

’This was a gift,’ Frodo said.

’Who’d give such a gift?’ Lobelia said, peering more closely. ‘Looks elvish, or somewhat.’

’It is,’ Frodo said. There was a pause, broken only by the crackle of the little fire and birdsong outside.

’May I see it?’ Lobelia said, uncharacteristically polite, her voice softer than usual. Frodo found himself, to his surprise, lifting the chain from his neck and handing the white jewel to the elderly hobbit. She cupped it in her hands, staring into its depths.

’Peaceful,’ she said. ‘It’s very... quite... refreshing.’ She took a deep breath, and then another. ‘It drives the evil from one’s memory most effectively.’ She looked up then. ‘How much do you want for it?’

Frodo was taken aback. ‘I—I couldn’t—‘ he stumbled.

Lobelia smiled, a tight little smile. ‘I’ll give you a bad bargain price for it, between friends,’ she said, and he realised it was her curious version of a joke. ‘Here,’ she said, holding it out to him. ‘Take it, before I’m tempted to put it away with Bilbo’s silver spoons.’

Frodo slowly took the jewel, hanging it around his neck again. Lobelia seemed quite cheerful now. ‘I’m famished!’ she announced. ‘Serve me a pile of those sandwiches, if you please!’

They continued to eat and talk, the discussion ranging from serious matters to comical ones. Amongst the serious matters was the rebuilding of the Shire, especially creating new holes for hobbits left homeless by the ruffians.

’I wish I could do more,’ Frodo said. ‘We’ve torn down all the ruffians’ works and are using the materials for the benefit of hobbits, and many have worked for no pay at all, which isn’t right. They ought to have something for their labours, for they have families to feed, but where the coins are to come from is beyond me.’

Alyssum brought back the teapot and poured them both fresh cups. Her eyes widened to see the denuded platter. ‘Would you care for more?’ she asked.

’Certainly,’ Lobelia said pleasantly. ‘That would be very kind of you, my dear.’

’I’ll have some fresh sandwiches made up right away!’ Alyssum said. ‘My, cousin Frodo, you ought to come around more often! I haven’t seen Auntie Lobelia with such a fine appetite in quite awhile!’

’Never, you mean!’ Lobelia said sharply. ‘I don’t usually make a hog of myself, but Frodo and I are celebrating!’

’What are you celebrating, Auntie?’ Alyssum said. Frodo wondered the same thing.

’Never you mind! Just fetch those sandwiches!’ Lobelia said. She lifted her teacup towards Frodo. ‘To—to—‘ she said, grasping for a toast, ‘To whatever!’ she ended triumphantly.

Frodo held up his own teacup. ‘To whatever!’ he agreed. They all laughed, and Alyssum left, promising more sandwiches and a fruit plate besides.

Toward the end of the meal, Lobelia turned the topic back to Freddy once more. ‘You’re sure he’ll be well?’ she said.

’As sure as I can be,’ Frodo said. ‘The healer said in another few days it might have been too late for him, seeing how fragile his health was after the Lockholes, but we brought him out of Bridgefields in time. He’d been taking broth for a full day when I left, and they expect he’ll be eating more substantial fare by the time I return. I as much as threatened to stuff the food down his throat for him if he doesn’t take care of feeding himself.’

’That’s good,’ Lobelia said softly. ‘I’m glad... one less victory for Sharkey.’ She sighed. ‘He killed my precious Lotho, you know. Ordered him killed, anyhow. If only I hadn’t been in the Lockholes...’

’If you had been at Bag End you couldn’t have saved Lotho; Saruman would have ordered you killed as well,’ Frodo said gently. ‘If you hadn’t been in the Lockholes, there’d be many more grieving mothers this day. We rescued over a hundred hobbits, you know, and many told how you stopped the beatings and made the guards give the prisoners more food and water, enough to keep them going until we got them out.’

Lobelia nodded, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘But Lotho was all I had. My sweet little lad,’ she whispered. ‘O I know they called him Pimple, and he was an unpleasant fellow when he died, but he really was sweet when he was little. He was only reflecting my own greed, you know. I raised him up to it, always wanting what I couldn’t have... O Lotho!’ she sighed again, and was silent.

’Lobelia,’ Frodo said quietly, but the old hobbit wasn’t done.

’All my pride, and foolishness,’ she said, ‘I was so proud of him for making something of himself. Certainly the Men were unpleasant, but they bowed to him and did his bidding. He owned nearly half the Shire, he boasted, though it couldn’t be that much, really—but still, he looked to be owning more and more! I never saw past my own comfort, to the misery of the hobbits around us... until that day they hauled me off to the Lockholes. Me! The Boss’s mother! But he wasn’t the Boss, not really.’

’No, he wasn’t,’ Frodo said gently.

 ‘Hobbits sleeping on the floor like Otho’s hunting dogs!’ Lobelia snapped. She took a sharp breath, held it for a moment, let it out in a long sigh. ‘That’s what opened my eyes, you know. I saw that lad, young Fredegar, dying on the cold stones, not even a blanket for comfort, far from the arms of his loving mother, and I thought of my precious Lotho, and how I would feel were he the one dying there. Ah, my boy. At least he was stabbed in his sleep, warm in his bed, and didn’t know the pain of the Lockholes.’ She bowed her head.

’You eased that pain for a great many,’ Frodo said. ‘You brought them through, Lobelia. Hold to that.’

’I do,’ Lobelia said, head still bowed. ‘It’s all I have left, you know. My Otho is gone—ah, how he loved me. “My beauty!” he used to say. My Lotho, precious little lad, so bright, so much promise. All I have left,’ she said. ‘I’m tired, Frodo.’

’I understand,’ Frodo said quietly.

She raised her head then, looking into his eyes with a curious expression. ‘Yes,’ she said after a moment. ‘I’m sure that you do.’