Chapter 54. 'A Shadow of Old Troubles'

During the first week in October, several notable things happened.

Freddy gained in strength, slowly but steadily. His face no longer resembled the snowy linens on the bed; he regained his appetite and began to sit up and take notice. Three days after Frodo’s return, he picked up the papers Frodo had left on the bedside table and began to read. When Rose popped her head in at the door to check on him, he looked up. ‘Ah there you are, Missus Rose,’ he said. ‘Would you have such a thing as a pencil lying about?’

’I just might,’ Rose said. ‘Would you like a cup of tea to go along with it?’

’Nothing like a nice, crunchy pencil with a cup of freshly brewed tea,’ Freddy said cheerily. ‘Toothsome, that.’ He looked back down at the papers in his hands and was soon absorbed. When Rose brought the tea and pencil, he thanked her absently and leafed back several pages to jot some notations in the margin.

He looked up to see Rose still there. ‘Yes?’ he said politely.

’Your tea,’ Rose said firmly. She did not want it to go cold, not with those magic drops that Mr Frodo had measured into it before retreating into his study for the afternoon.

’Yes, yes, I’ll get to it,’ Freddy said.

’Best drink up whilst it’s hot,’ Rose said. Freddy raised an eyebrow, but put down the pencil to take up the cup. ‘Would you care for some fresh biscuits to go with your tea?’ she added.

’So that’s the lovely smell wafting through the air,’ Freddy said. ‘Indeed you are a thoughtful holekeeper, Rose, and spoil me terribly.’

’I’ll bring you a plateful,’ she said and proceeded to do just that, glad to find his teacup ready for refilling when she returned.

Bringing a cup of tea and plate of biscuits to Mr Frodo in the study, she reported Mr Freddy’s progress. ‘He’s actually picked up the papers you left there, Mr Frodo, and is reading and making jottings!’

‘Well that’s fine!’ he said. Freddy had politely taken the sheaf of papers that first evening, glanced at them, and then laid them aside, saying he’d get to them later. It seemed that “later” had come at last, meaning Freddy was feeling well enough to sit up and notice things outside himself, and Frodo breathed a sigh of relief.

Eyeing Rose, he added, ‘but I think you’re working too hard, Rose. You’ve been looking a bit peaked lately. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Have Samwise take you to the farm for supper. I’ll scare up something for Freddy and me.’

He managed to argue her into agreeing to go to the farm for supper, though she laid out cold supper in the dining room before departing. She could just imagine what Mr Frodo would “scare up”, a hunk of bread and a chunk of cheese, most likely, if he even remembered to eat at all! And poor Mr Freddy, confined to bed, unable to lift a finger to get his own meal... She looked in satisfaction at the platter of meats and cheeses, the slices of bread alternating brown wholemeal and snowy white on another platter, the artfully arranged vegetables, the dishes of pickles, the large cold jug of creamy buttermilk, and the bowl of apples polished to high sheen and grapes bursting with juice.

‘Looks good enough to eat,’ she said in satisfaction, even as her stomach gave another lurch. She could cook and serve the food well enough, ‘twas eating that was giving her the trouble these days. She’d ask her mum about it this evening at the farm.

***

Darkness had fallen when Frodo heard a voice behind him. ‘A fellow could starve to death in this place, and such a waste!’

’Freddy!’ he said, turning. ‘What are you doing out of bed?’

’Looking for sustenance,’ Freddy added. ‘I licked the last crumbs of biscuit from my fingers hours ago.’

’I’m sorry, cousin,’ Frodo said contritely, rising hastily to take Freddy’s arm. ‘Let us get you back to bed and then I’ll see what I can do.’

’Let us stop off at the dining room on the way,’ Freddy said. ‘Little fairies have left us a treasure, it seems, and it would be a shame to let the magic go to waste.’

’Go to waist, rather,’ Frodo said, catching a glimpse of the laden table. ‘That Rose!’ he said with a shake of his head. He seated Freddy and then himself and the cousins made a hearty repast, complete with contest to see who could build the tallest sandwich with the greatest variety of items.

’Shall we get you back to bed now?’ Frodo said when neither could eat another bite.

’I’d imagine Samwise has laid a fire in the parlour,’ Freddy said in answer. ‘Shall we let his effort go for naught?’

’Are you up to it, Freddy?’ Frodo said, studying his cousin’s face.

’Never felt better!’ Freddy said lightly, but under Frodo’s continued scrutiny he said, ‘Ah, well, I have felt better at some time in my life, but I feel remarkably well at the moment. Stronger than I have in days, and that awful breathless feeling is gone.’

’Breathless feeling?’ Frodo asked.

’Waiting to see if the next heartbeat would come; you’ve no idea how odd a feeling it is, and uncomfortable in the bargain,’ Freddy said.

’I had no idea,’ Frodo said slowly, but he began to understand Freddy’s earlier resignation, which he’d mistaken for unreasonable hopelessness. They went to the parlour, where indeed a fire was laid, just waiting for a spark, and brandy and a glass waited on a side table.

’What is in the tea?’ Freddy asked, fetching another glass and settling down to watch Frodo spark the fire. He poured out for them both and sipped appreciatively. Brandy Hall certainly lived up to its name, and Merry kept Bag End well-supplied with the Hall’s finest.

’Tea?’ Frodo said, straightening up and watching the fire catch, quickly becoming a cheerful blaze.

’Yes, the tea that Rose brings me twice each day, and stays to watch me drink. The other cups don’t matter if they go cold and must be poured out it seems, but those two cups...’ Freddy said shrewdly.

Frodo settled in his own easy chair, picked up his brandy and sipped. ‘Tea?’ he said again.

’Whatever it is, it steadies me,’ Freddy said. ‘You’re going to have to tell me eventually, if you ever want me to move out of here and leave you in peace in Bag End.’

’When are you leaving?’ Frodo asked casually.

Freddy laughed, then sobered again. ‘What is in the tea?’ he persisted.

’Medicine,’ Frodo admitted.

’What sort of medicine?’ Freddy said. ‘If we run out, what shall I ask the healer for?’

’There’s a plentiful supply,’ Frodo answered. He knew Freddy would give him no peace, however, so he finally told him what Anise Grubb had told him.

’Foxglove!’ Freddy said. ‘I knew you were trying to get your best guest room back, but do you have to poison me? Very inhospitable of you, cousin!’

Frodo laughed and sipped at his brandy. It was good to have Freddy back to himself.

They were still in the parlour when Samwise and Rosie returned. There was an air of suppressed excitement about the twain, but all Sam said was, ‘Will there be anything else you’ll be needing this evening, Mr Frodo? Mr Freddy?’ He hadn’t expected to see Mr Freddy out of bed, but then, Rose had said the gentlehobbit was much improved before they’d left for the farm.

’We have everything we need, Sam, thank you,’ Frodo answered.

’A veritable overabundance,’ Freddy added, raising his glass in a toast.

’Then we’ll just take ourselves off after washing up,’ Sam said, and soon splashing and singing could be heard from the direction of the kitchen.

’Something’s up, there,’ Freddy said.

’O?’ Frodo answered.

’Most definitely,’ Freddy said with a nod. ‘Didn’t you notice? He looked like the cat that got into the cream.’

’Now that you mention it...’ Frodo said. ‘What d’you think it could be?’

’I’ll get to the bottom of it, sooner or later,’ Freddy said. Frodo had no doubt. Freddy was a great one for asking questions and thinking about the answers until he had all the pieces put together to make a logical whole.

Two days later, Rose fainted while serving the cousins their noontide meal. She’d been looking pale, and Frodo saw her sway as she put down his plate, giving him just enough warning to catch her before she could hit her head, though the plate clattered to the floor and smashed, scattering roast and taters and gravy and vegetables.

’What’s this?’ Freddy said. ‘Cannot leave the pretty lasses alone, can we?’ He got up from his chair, took Rose’s hand between his own and patted it. ‘Missus Rose,’ he said urgently. ‘Rosie, can you hear me?’

’Get Sam,’ Frodo said. Freddy nodded and made his way slowly to the kitchen, finding Samwise ladling gravy over his own plateful, while Rose’s dinner awaited her on the well-scrubbed kitchen table.

’Sam, there’s a bit of a problem in the dining room,’ Freddy said, not wanting to alarm the gardener. He had a good idea of what ailed Rose, having put together her recent wan appearance with memories of his mother when he was very young, and now this fainting spell.

’Thank you, sir,’ Sam said, putting his plate down and taking Freddy’s arm. ‘I’ll just help you back to your seat, Mr Freddy.’

’Very kind,’ Freddy murmured and allowed himself to be helped. Sam dropped his arm when they reached the dining room, however, seeing Rose in Frodo’s lap.

’What happened?’ he demanded, nearly skidding in the gravy on the floor.

’She swooned, Sam,’ Frodo said. ‘Do you want me to go for the healer while you put her to bed?’

Freddy laughed. ‘No need for that, cousin!’ he said cheerily. Sam and Frodo turned to him in amazement. ‘Hobbits have been having babes for more years than you can count on all your fingers and toes, put together!’

’Babe!’ Frodo said.

Sam ducked his head and blushed. ‘Yes sir,’ he stammered. ‘We’ve just found out ourselves...’

Rose stirred, and Sam immediately moved to take her from Mr Frodo. ‘Where...?’ she said ‘What happened?’ Finding herself in Mr Frodo’s lap, she looked up in confusion. ‘How...?’

’It’s all right, Rose, this sort of thing is to be expected,’ Frodo said, helping her up and into Sam’s firm hold. ‘You’ve been overdoing, I suspect. You need to take better care of yourself and less care of lazy gentlehobbits! Freddy and I needn’t be waited on hand and foot.’ He fixed Sam with a stern look. ‘Sam, I’m sure there’s some lass in the neighbourhood looking for a bit of extra work scrubbing floors and chasing cobwebs.’

’Well there’s young Daisy Stubbletoes in Number Five,’ Sam said. ‘She’s a hard worker, and her mum is a fine cook.’

’Good,’ Frodo said. ‘Hire them both! Daisy can do a bit of scrubbing, and her mum can cook dinner and lay a cold supper each day. I’d expect that you can manage breakfast, Sam, which would most likely be the most difficult time for Rose these days... we’ll see she gets plenty of rest and doesn’t overdo.’

’But I—‘ Rose said.

Frodo fixed her with a stern eye. ‘There’s nothing for it but to follow along, Rose,’ he said. ‘You’re going to have to let yourself be pampered for once in your life. You may fuss, or you may enjoy it, but it’ll happen whatever you choose.’

’I’d choose to enjoy it were I you, Missus Rose,’ Freddy said with a wink. ‘Take her off, Sammy, and have her put her feet up, and bring her a cup of tea in the bargain.’

’But the mess!’ Rose protested, looking in dismay at the shattered plate and scattered food.

’Don’t you worry about the mess,’ Freddy said. ‘Did you know there are fairies about? I’m sure this will all be magically cleared away by the next time you peep into the room.’

’Undoubtedly,’ Frodo added. ‘Go on, Sam.’

’Yes sir,’ Sam answered, and putting an arm around Rose, he walked her from the room.

That evening Sam poked his head into the study to ask if Mr Frodo wanted anything else. Mr Freddy had sought his own bed several hours before. Rose had felt better at teatime and made sure the gentlehobbit had his special tea with his fresh-baked scones and cream, and then Mr Freddy had worked on Mr Frodo’s papers until supper and then asked Sam to walk with him to Number Three to look in on Hamwise. After smoking an after-supper pipe together, Sam walked Mr Freddy back to Bag End, and the gentlehobbit had made an early bedtime.

Sam tapped on the door and stuck his head in with his usual question. ‘Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr Frodo?’ His master didn’t look up; he was evidently deep in thought, not writing but perhaps thinking about what to write next. He’d laid his pen down and was sitting, unmoving in his chair. ‘Mr Frodo?’ Sam said again, feeling the vague anxiety for his master that had nagged at him most of the year, stir to fresh life as coals ignite to flames under a rush of air.

Frodo did not look up, simply stared before him. Sam crossed to the desk. ‘Mr Frodo?’ he asked softly. His master looked very strange and pale, scarcely breathing, his eyes seeming to see things far away. ‘What’s the matter, Mr Frodo?’ Sam asked, reaching out to touch the nearest hand.

’I am wounded,’ Frodo said in a faraway voice, ‘wounded; it will never really heal.’ He blinked and seemed to notice Sam’s presence for the first time.

’Sam?’ he said in his normal voice. ‘Is it time for bed already? I lost myself again, I’m afraid.’

’Yes sir,’ Sam faltered. ‘It’s late.’

’Ah,’ Frodo said, getting up from the chair and stretching as if he were stiff from sitting in one position for hours. ‘Then I will bid you good night, Sam.’ The turn seemed to have passed, and he was quite himself the next day.

It was not until afterwards that Sam recalled that the date was October the sixth. Two years before on that day it was dark in the dell under Weathertop.