Chapter 45. The Wizard's Curse

When Frodo returned to Bywater a week later, the Bolgers had returned to Budge Hall, reassured that their son would do better now that he was away from home. Frodo peeked into the bedroom to find Freddy sitting up in bed, being badgered to eat by an exasperated Estella.

’Just like old times!’ Frodo laughed, leaning in the doorway.

’Cousin Frodo!’ Estella snapped. ‘It’s about time you returned!’

’We were thinking of sending out a rescue party,’ Freddy drawled.

’Freddy is being impossible!’ Estella flared.

’It is what I do best,’ Freddy confessed, pushing away a bowl of cooling stew.

Frodo took up the tray, saying, ‘Come, midge.’ Estella followed him into the hallway. ‘You ask Mrs Cotton to heat this up again,’ he said, ‘and I’ll make sure Freddy gets it down. You take the day off,’ he added kindly. ‘Go have tea with the Gamgees or something of the sort.’

’I’m not allowed,’ Estella said. ‘Freddy doesn’t think it proper.’

’Freddy has problems of his own,’ Frodo said grimly. ‘And I am planning to advance to the top of the list.’ He raised his voice. ‘Mrs Cotton! Mrs Cotton!’

The farmer’s wife bustled into the kitchen from the dairy, where she’d been setting pans of milk to let the cream rise to the top. ‘Mr Baggins!’ she cried. ‘Welcome back! I didn’t hear you come in, you were so quiet about it. Does Samwise know you’ve returned?’

’Is Samwise here?’ Frodo said.

’He’s up at Bag End,’ Mrs Cotton said. ‘They’re getting very close, you know. He’s very pleased with how the work is turning out.’

’That’s fine,’ Frodo said. ‘I’ll go up to Bag End after I see this stew gets into Mr Freddy, if you could heat it up again, please.’

’That’s good to hear,’ Mrs Cotton said briskly, taking the stew and doing the honours. ‘We could use another body to badger and bully the lad. It’s unnatural! He doesn’t seem to want to eat, even though he’s not at home anymore.’

’Where’s Rose?’ Frodo asked. ‘Is she up at the Gamgees' taking tea?’

’As a matter of fact, she’s just bringing in the wash we pegged out this morning, such a beautiful day for March, can you believe this weather we’re having?’

’She hasn’t had her tea yet?’ Frodo said. ‘That’s good. D’you suppose Miss Estella could borrow an old dress and kerchief and have tea on the meadow with Rose, just be “Tillie” again for the afternoon? I think she needs a rest.’

’But Freddy—‘ Estella protested.

’You listen to your ancient and venerable cousin, midge,’ Frodo said sternly, and then, seeing how tightly wound his young cousin was, he added more kindly, ‘If Freddy chides you, just send him to me and I’ll tell him what’s what.’

’But you said—‘ Estella began again.

’If you’re “Tillie” on a picnic, no one would look at you twice, and Rose will not be snubbed by those who think she’s stepped out of her place,’ Frodo said firmly. ‘It’ll be all right, won’t it Mrs Cotton?’

’Course it will,’ Mrs Cotton said firmly. ‘Here you are,’ she said, ladling the warmed stew back into the bowl. ‘Now come with me, Miss Estella, and we’ll make it so your own brother wouldn’t know you.’

Healer Finch entered the kitchen. ‘Mr Freddy’s having seconds?’ he asked, seeing the bowl in Frodo’s hand.

’No, we re-warmed his firsts,’ Frodo said. The healer shook his head. ‘Why aren’t his parents here?’ Frodo asked.

Finch said grimly, ‘He made an effort to eat while they were here, and they were reassured that he was on the road to recovery, but since they left the day before yesterday—Mr Odovacar wanted to make sure the quarry goes back into operation, you know, hobbits have been out of work for so long, and all. Anyhow, since they left it’s been the old story.’

’Will you send for them?’ Frodo asked.

Finch shook his head. ‘I hate to have them just reaching Budge Hall and having to turn round again,’ he said. ‘They’re not getting any younger, you know.’ He took a deep breath, adding in a determined tone, ‘If we can just get the food down Mr Freddy there’s no need to alarm them again.’

’I’ll do my part,’ Frodo promised, hefting the bowl. ‘Might as well get started.’

’No time like the present,’ Finch agreed, and Frodo returned to the bedroom.

’Here we are,’ he said cheerily.

’Perhaps I could pretend to be sleeping and you could assault me later,’ Freddy said, eying the bowl.

’Perhaps you could pretend to be sleeping,’ Frodo agreed, ‘and if you open your mouth wide enough to pretend to snore I could just shovel the food in.’

’On second thought, perhaps I ought to pretend to be awake instead,’ Freddy said hastily.

’Eat,’ Frodo said, ‘or do you want me to feed it to you?’ He lifted the spoon. ‘Here’s the old owl,’ he said, ‘coming with a fat mouse into the hole in the old oak tree...’

’Give me that!’ Freddy said in irritation, snatching the spoon and shoving it into his own mouth. He chewed and swallowed and his eyebrows went up. ‘Hits the spot,’ he said in surprise.

’Of course it does,’ Frodo said. ‘Have another bite.’

’I’m not sure I could,’ Freddy said.

’O yes,’ Frodo said. ‘You don’t have to eat the whole bowlful, but you have to have as much as would fill a teacup. However, I’ve news for you.’

’What’s that?’ Freddy said wearily.

’If you eat the whole bowlful, they won’t make you eat again in an hour.’

’Won’t they?’ Freddy asked.

’No, you may go two entire hours before you must eat again. However, if you put this off, I’ll be bringing you more food before you finish this!’

Freddy shuddered and applied himself to the stew. Finally, he sighed and said, ‘Is that a teacupful, would you say?’

Frodo took pity on him. ‘Nearly,’ he said. ‘Would you like a cup of tea to wash it down?’

’Must I?’ Freddy said dolefully.

’No,’ Frodo answered. ‘Not for nearly an hour, at least.’

’Then take it out of my sight, please,’ Freddy pleaded. ‘I don’t want to look at it or smell it or even think about eating until I must.’

’I’ll be right back,’ Frodo promised, taking bowl and spoon and walking slowly to the kitchen, deep in thought. Looking out the kitchen window, he saw two girls in patched dresses and bright kerchiefs swinging a basket between them, walking into the meadow behind the barn.

’Well now, he ate a bit of it anyway,’ Mrs Cotton said, looking into the bowl. ‘Did he fight you for every mouthful?’

’No,’ Frodo said. ‘He worked at it with a will until he’d eaten as much as he could.’

’Wonders will never cease,’ Mrs Cotton said. ‘I think Finch was considering tying him hand and foot and forcing the food down him.’

’I’d like to see that,’ Frodo said with a smile.

’You might yet,’ Mrs Cotton said darkly.

’I hope it won’t come to that,’ Frodo said. ‘Forcing a hobbit to eat! The very idea!’

’Humph,’ Mrs Cotton said, turning to dump the rest of the bowlful into the slop bucket for the pigs prior to washing up.

’Thank you, Mrs Cotton. He did tell me to tell you that it “hit the spot”,’ Frodo said. She nodded, keeping her back turned, and he realised she was fighting tears. ‘Very well, I’ll take the next shift,’ he said. ‘You just bring the tray when it’s time and leave the rest to me.’

Mrs Cotton nodded, and Frodo heard a sniff as he turned away.

When he got back to the bedroom, Freddy said, ‘Well?’

’That’s a deep, dark place filled with water,’ Frodo answered, taking a seat.

’What about Lobelia? Did she lock you up? Why did you extend your visit? I thought you’d only stay a day!’

’Cousin, I’m shocked!’ Frodo said. ‘To think of such a thing! Why, I had a pleasant time, indeed.’ Freddy reached out suddenly and Frodo fended off his hand. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.

’Checking for fever; you’re obviously delirious,’ Freddy said solemnly. ‘A pleasant time? With Lobelia Sackville-Baggins?’

Try as he might, Frodo could not convince him that Lobelia was changed, and for the better.

Finally Freddy changed the subject. ‘How much writing have you done?’ he asked. ‘Got any good words for me?’

’None at all,’ Frodo said.

‘None?’ Freddy asked, flabbergasted.

’You said yourself, there’s a lifetime to write the story,’ Frodo said. ‘Why should I beat myself down to get it all written in only a year or so? I’d have to work hours each day to do that. Five years—ten, even, will be plenty.’ Maybe even twenty, or thirty, he thought privately. After all, if he were to marry and raise a family, well, that would take time away from writing. It might take forty years to get the story written down in its entirety, if he had little hobbits underfoot. Some of the tale—not all, of course—would make good bedtime stories in the bargain.

Not all, he thought again, and found himself unconsciously fingering the jewel. He suddenly remembered its impact on Lobelia.

’Freddy,’ he said slowly.

’At your service!’ his cousin said brightly, though Frodo had awakened him as he was slipping into a doze.

’Freddy, you know why you cannot eat, don’t you?’ Frodo said, eyeing his cousin closely.

’Is it because I’ve been ill, and the food doesn’t appeal?’ Freddy said dryly. ‘Or are you going to go into that nonsense about the wizard’s spell?’

’It isn’t nonsense,’ Frodo said. ‘You of all people ought to know that. You thought you were eating, stuffing yourself with good food—‘

’Wasn’t I?’ Freddy said sharply. ‘I only have your word for it that I wasn’t!’

’Mine and everyone else’s,’ Frodo said, ‘and the evidence of your own body. You nearly died, Freddy, you nearly starved yourself to death.’

’I don’t believe it,’ Freddy said stubbornly. ‘I ate something that disagreed with me, that last night at Budge Hall, had a violent case of food-poisoning, I believe, and nearly died of it. No wonder I have trouble eating now! You know how it is after you’ve eaten some bad food... remember that picnic we had?’

’I remember,’ Frodo said.

’Our bodies forgot which was the insides and which was the outsides, and even after we got rid of all the food we were still trying to bring something up! I do believe I retched up my toes! And then we couldn’t eat, properly eat, for days afterwards,’ Freddy said.

’It wasn’t bad food this time,’ Frodo insisted. ‘Freddy, Lobelia sent you a message. She said you could fight, if you’d only remember...’

’Remember what?’ Freddy asked curiously.

’Remember the wizard’s curse, his words to you,’ Frodo said.

’I don’t know what you are talking about,’ Freddy said, but he shivered and pulled the coverlet higher.

’He said, “Death by slow starvation is exquisite torture. Most suited to hobbits.” Do you remember?’ Frodo said softly.

’No,’ Freddy whispered. ‘No, I don’t remember.’

’But I heard you use those words yourself, in the early days,’ Frodo insisted. ‘ “Most suited to hobbits”, don’t you remember?’

’Suited,’ Freddy echoed, dumbfounded. He raised haunted eyes to meet Frodo’s. ‘His Voice is inside me still? How do I fight this? I don’t even know I’m hearing it!’

Frodo took the jewel on its chain from his neck. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘This helps to drive the evil away, at least for a time. Perhaps it will help you to perceive the truth from the lie.’

Freddy took the jewel slowly, looking into its depths. ‘The lie,’ he breathed. He stiffened. ‘Evil,’ he said.

’Yes,’ Frodo answered, clasping his hands round Freddy’s. ‘Let it burn away the evil; see the truth, Freddy, seek it!’

The jewel brightened in their hold. ‘It shines like white fire!’ Freddy said in wonder. After long moments—neither Freddy nor Frodo could have told how long it was, afterwards—he relaxed and slowly pulled his hands away as the jewel dimmed to ordinariness again. ‘I feel... clean,’ he said. ‘Clean and... fresh, as if I’ve been made new.’

Frodo smiled, settling the chain once again about his neck. ‘How about a bite to eat?’ he asked, striving for a casual tone.

’O yes,’ Freddy said, his own smile growing. ‘I’m absolutely famished!’

’I’ll be right back,’ Frodo promised, and rose to go to the kitchen, to tell Mrs Cotton to dish up a fair portion of her fine cookery.