elderberrywine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elderberrywine) wrote2008-06-04 06:42 pm
elderberrywine) wrote2008-06-04 06:42 pm
And Part Two!
And here's the rest -
Title: The Empty Smial, Part Two
Author: Elderberry Wine
Pairing: F/S
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 12,856 (total)
Summary: Some, if not all, questions are answered, both LOTR and Holmsian canon is cheerfully and thoroughly mangled, and F & S make up for lost time. Part of the 221B Bag End series.
&&&&&
Even though I found the remote smial before the strands of fog had entirely lifted, I was not the first to arrive. The fauntling who had previously been my guide was rearranging the gorse over the door of the smial as I quietly made my way from the path at the bottom of the hill, and I’m afraid I rather startled him. The child’s exclamation on seeing me caused the door to open and Baggins stepped out into the cold white morning and smiled me a warm welcome. Turning to the young lad, who was still eying me with no small amount of wariness, he spoke a few words in a dialect that I couldn’t quite catch. The lad nodded briefly in response, and gave me a slight bow, touching his forehead, and immediately scrambled back down the hillside and out of sight.
“A clever lad,” Baggins watched him go with a look of approval, “and very perceptive. His mother has been kind enough to spare me some food, when she has any to spare, and I rather think the lad has taken me on as a pet project. After all, it was he who found me stumbling down the bank of the stream, not too far away. But I’ve told him that you’re a friend and a healer, and come to stay with me until I’m better.”
“Exactly what I propose to do.” I gave him a resolute look as I grasped his hand and drew him, not at all reluctantly, back into the smial. But as soon as the door closed behind us, we were instantly in each other’s arms, locked in a passionate embrace. “Oh, Frodo,” I finally murmured, when we had to break apart for a moment to catch our breath, “I’m quite serious about that, love.” Gently, I touched his face, drawing a careful hand down the side of his gaunt cheek, entirely too pale and bruised under my touch. “Saving the Shire, from whatever this peril turns out to be, is all very good, but I’m far more concerned about saving you. You are not looking in the least well, dearest, I hate to inform you, and we just can’t be having that at all.”
He laughed at my words, the first time I had heard that gloriously distinctive laugh since I had found him again, and the spark in his blue eyes was very nearly the same as of old as well. “I put myself in your hands, my dearest Samwise,” he murmured, with an impish smile, “in more ways than one. You will never have a more compliant patient, I assure you.”
All my best of intentions as to my making sure that he missed no more meals were very nearly forgotten at that point. As it was, second breakfast ran fairly late, and was taken in bed as well. It was nearly noon before he remembered the volumes he had asked me to fetch, a very uncharacteristic lack of focus on his part, for which I was happily quite responsible.
&&&&&
By late afternoon, the previously abandoned smial was beginning to take on a decidedly homely appearance, thanks to some determined effort on my part. I had shooed Baggins temporarily out, about midday, and gave the smial a thorough dusting and sweeping, since I had noticed that the thick dust that had lain about was causing him to have coughing fits when it was disturbed. In addition, I sent young Dickon (for that was the helpful young lad’s name, it seemed) off with a bit of coin, and instructions to bring back as much kindling as could be purchased, without raising any suspicion. I had brought warmer blankets, a kettle, and my frying pan, not to mention Baggins’ own pipe and a bottle of Old Winyards, so by the time what light that had shone that cold day had begun to fade, he was better dressed in warm clothing, wrapped in thicker blankets on the bed with his pipe and a mug of hot tea at his side, and I was frying a full pan of taters and onion, with a rasher of bacon and some fried apples at the side. The bottle of Old Winyards stood on the table, promising a relaxing evening, and Baggins had his nose quite cheerfully buried in his books. All in all, even though we were not at Bag End, I couldn’t possibly have been happier. And by the occasional glance he gave me, I knew he felt the same.
“Ah, there it is!” he abruptly exclaimed, giving a triumphant crow. With a satisfied nod, he closed his book with a resounding whump. “I knew I had heard that expression; I just couldn’t quite place it. The pieces are beginning to fall into place, Gamgee. Let’s pop open the bottle, my dear, and see if we can’t put a few of the pieces of this puzzle together.”
“As long as you eat as well, Frodo,” I gave him a stern look as I loaded a plate quite full and handed it to him. “I really can’t answer for the consequences otherwise.”
I slid the rest on a plate for myself, and twisting the cork off of the bottle, filled both of our mugs with the dark wine.
“Come here then, Samwise; you’re entirely too far away,” he commanded imperiously, accepting the mug with a nod. “Come have a seat on the bed with me, there’s a dear, there’s plenty of room, but you’ll want to move that lantern over here first. There we are; that’s better. Now where were we? Ah, yes. ‘Treasure’; that was the word I kept hearing. That was what they were expecting me to provide them, somehow. Something ‘the Baggins’ was to supply. I believe Lotho first convinced them that he was this ‘Baggins’ they sought, and then when he did not know anything about the treasure, he bargained with them to produce me. But from the argument that I heard, there is apparently a difference of opinion as to whether or not I am ‘the Baggins’ or another imposter like Lotho. I don’t mind mentioning that it seems as though Lotho is definitely in a bit of a tight spot. Possibly he thought to regain their favor by turning me over to them. It could not have gone well for him when I managed to escape.”
“I’m certainly not going to concern myself with Pimple’s fate,” I could not help but huff. “Whatever it is, he certainly deserves it.”
“Now, then, Sam,” Baggins interposed mildly. “These scoundrels really are a fearsome lot. Possibly he felt there was not much alternative.”
I set down my plate at that, all appetite suddenly vanished. “There is no justification for his behavior, Frodo,” I couldn’t help the lump I felt in my throat. “I’ll never be able to forgive him for those weeks when I thought you were lost to me.”
“Oh, Sam, my dear,” his face was instantly contrite, and he sought my hand. “I know I can’t begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
I gave his hand a quick kiss, unable to say more for the moment, when a sudden thought struck me. “There’s another Baggins,” I said slowly. “Mr. Bilbo.”
Frodo frowned, shaking his head a bit. “This surely can’t be that hoary old tale of dwarvish gold again,” he muttered. “It’s always been total nonsense, of course. Bilbo never brought back anything of value, just a few dwarvish trinkets, perhaps, but no more.”
“Perhaps he brought back something more valuable than he knew?” I couldn’t help questioning him.
“Well, that’s always possible, of course, but it doesn’t seem likely that these intruders have any connection with the dwarves,” he responded thoughtfully. “They are from the south, as far as may be determined, by their speech, and the kingdom of the dwarves lies to the north. I must say, however, that it seemed to be quite important that this treasure, whatever it is, be recovered as discreetly as possible. Apparently, there are others who seek it so it would not do, it appears, to search for it in an obtrusive fashion. That is why they would not invade Bag End as long as it was occupied, but now that it appears to be deserted, they may well move in.”
“You surely do not mean to watch for them?” I asked with a bit of alarm.
“No, it would rather pointless for either of us, and especially you, to be caught lurking about when we have taken such pains to make your departure obvious. But no one ever notices an aimless young fauntling or where he might wander. Dickon will be sending word once the game is afoot. And with any luck, Saradoc Brandybuck will be providing some support for us by then. If anyone has cause to wish us well in our attempts to capture these villains, it would be him.”
“And so we wait?”
“Exactly so,” he answered with a slow smile. “Dickon is a rather popular fellow with his mates, and has recruited several of them to help him keep an eye on Bag End, as well as keep an ear open for news of Jolly Cotton and Saradoc Brandybuck. There isn’t much excitement in these parts, and they have a fair amount of time on their hands during this sort of weather. I think we may safely trust to the keen observations of the North Stream Irregulars. And for the time being, at least, our time is our own.”
“Excellent.” My heart beat a little faster as he finished off the wine and let the book slid unheeded to the earthen floor from his fingers. “I have no doubt we can devise some way to pass the hours.” I picked up both empty mugs and plates, and with great satisfaction, noted that it was once again raining. “Seems as though the washing up will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“A thousand pities,” he murmured, his smile broadening as he made room beside himself for me to return to the bed. “I shouldn’t think we’d be needing the lantern light tonight. No sense in wasting oil, now, is there?”
“Always practical, aren’t you, my dear?” I felt my pulse quicken as I slid under the blankets next to him, my hand seeking the warm flesh beneath the clothing as he did the same.
“Precisely. Indeed, I am a most dull and uninteresting fellow, Sam. I’m really not sure what you find attractive about me at all,” he breathed next to me in the dark, following this nonsense with a spirited exploration of certain most sensitive areas right at the base of my throat.
“Oh, Frodo, I just can’t imagine, myself,” I gasped, as sparks of desire shot through me, and I felt myself involuntarily arching into his embrace. “But we are of a scientific bent of mind, you and I, and so I think that question should be explored in great detail.”
He gave a stifled gasp of his own as my lowered hand brushed against one of his more sensitive zones. “I think you’ve rather hit on the heart of the matter, my dear,” he whispered, and even in the dark, I could hear the smile in his voice.
I couldn’t help my own chuckle in return, for I was madly and impetuously in love with him, and my joy was so great I felt it must burst out of me somehow. “Well, no, that is not your heart, Frodo, point of fact, so perhaps further investigation is warranted.”
“Of course it’s not my heart, dearest Sam,” his voice was suddenly infinitely tender and caressing as his arms folded about me, “for that is what you have in your possession, and always shall have. I have given it to you for safekeeping, my love, for I know it’ll never come to harm with you.”
I quite possibly cried out something incoherent at that point, and left it to my hands, my mouth, and every other part of my body to make my response. I don’t think we hardly slept at all that night, for there were so many words that we had been afraid would remain left unsaid, so many kisses that might otherwise never have been given, and we had only begun to explore this wonder that was our love. So it was a very good thing that it was quite late in the afternoon, the next day, when Dickon politely rapped on the door.
&&&&&
“Mr. Baggins, sir,” he blurted out immediately upon entrance, giving both of us a quick nod, “there’s two gentlehobbits as followed Mr. Jolly back home, and word is as they’re your relations.”
“Oh, good heavens, Merry and Pippin at the Cotton farm?” Baggins chuckled with delight. “Good lads, they didn’t go to Bag End, but I really wouldn’t want them to be turning the poor Cottons topsy-turvy. Very well, Dickon, let me have you bring them here. And just so they don’t think it’s some sort of trap, I’d better give you a note. Here, Gamgee, you’ve a quill and a scrap of paper on you?” Hastily scribbling something on the piece I produced from my pack, he sent Dickon off with the note and a couple of coins, instructing him to have one of the other Irregulars stop by the Green Dragon and see what news there was there.
I only had time to make the smial slightly less untidy when there was a scuffling outside, and a pounding on the worn door. Two young hobbits hastily burst through the doorway as soon as I opened it and immediately attached themselves to Baggins with a flurry of hugs and shouts of “Frodo!” and not a few tears. Dickon was watching the scene with quite a grin, so I decided to intercede, stepping out of the smial with him to allow the reunion a bit of privacy.
“Hoy, now, they’re right glad t’see him, ain’t they?” he gave a nod to the smial as we stood together on the hillside and let the mist wet our faces.
“Cousins,” I explained briefly. “Haven’t seen him in awhile.”
“Well, then, I ain’t seen mine in a year or two, but when I do, we just punch each other an’ have done w’it,” he shook his head, still amused.
“Gentlehobbits, you know,” I couldn’t help but add.
“Which you ain’t,” he gave me a sudden sharp glance. “No worries, you’ve done right nice for yourself. And Mr. Baggins is as fine a hobbit as ever was, so any friend of his is fine w’me, be they gentlehobbit or no.”
I couldn’t help but grin back at him at this unexpected endorsement. “Very decent of you, Dickon, I’m glad to hear that. So, since it seems that Mr. Baggins will be occupied for a bit, you might want to stop by later to see if he has any other instructions. And if you could lay your hands on a loaf of bread or two,” I added, producing a bit of coin of my own, “and some taters and cheese, and anything else that can be spared, I’d be very grateful. You’ve no idea what damage those two can do to our meager larder.”
&&&&&
That evening, we held a war council in our small, and by now, quite cozy, temporary headquarters. Merry and Pippin were there, of course, and Dickon had fetched both Jolly Cotton, and his brother, Tom. Dickon had joined our party as well, for Baggins felt the time was right for all of us to be in accord as to what was to be done. I had fried up a couple of fine young coneys, presented with complements of young Dickon, and the Cotton brothers had brought plenty of bread, not to mention wine and beer for all. The seven of us were crammed quite closely in the small one-roomed smial, and it was, needless to mention, raining quite hard outside, but the mood within was not only rather festive, but quite determined as well. I noticed that both of Baggins’ cousins sat quite near him, finding any excuse they could to give him a quick hug or pat on the shoulder, and I entirely understood. But he was patience itself with their out of character behavior, and soon had them laughing and entirely at ease again.
“Our first order of business,” he announced, drawing out his pipe as we finished the meal, “is to understand where our enemies stand. And no, Merry,” he smiled at his cousin’s cry of alarm at that sight, “I won’t use my own pipeweed, if that’s what concerns you. Only Gamgee, here, can take it for any length of time, I’m afraid,” he added, shooting me a privately amused look.
Fortunately, there were some empty plates to whisk away just then, and another bottle of wine wanted opening, for I’m afraid my face must have been decidedly rosy. But Tom had news, and all else was forgotten for the moment.
“So Ned Proudfoot says as there’s been some ruffians seen up by his farm, you know, a bit north-east out of Hobbiton,” he said slowly, draining the beer in his mug, and giving his mouth a quick swipe with his sleeve. “Why, no, I’d not say nay to another pull; thank’ee kindly, Jolly,” he nodded to his brother as he passed him the jug. “Great shaggy fellows, they were, and Ned says as that he’s never seen Men before, but he’s guessin’ that’s what they were. And he wasna sure, but he’d have sworn as Lotho Pimple was with them, likewise.”
“So he’s still up to his neck in this,” hissed Merry in a fury. “”If it weren’t for his traitorous ways, they’d never have gotten so far into the Shire as they have.”
“Most likely,” Baggins nodded impassively, “but on the other hand, he has given us some very useful indications as to what is motivating these intruders. They are seeking something which they expect to find at Bag End, and apparently the Baggins whom they have sought is Bilbo, which would indicate that they are seeking something that he brought back with him from his travels. What it is, I certainly have no idea, so whether or not it is actually at Bag End is unknown, at this point. News of the both of you,” he eyed Merry and Pippin, “is bound to travel fast. Neither of you is particularly unremarkable, I’m afraid,” he added, his mouth quirking up with merriment. “And so our time is limited. And where are your fathers?”
“Oh, Frodo, you’ll appreciate this,” Pippin burst in, unable to contain his glee. “They are both at Michael Delving, each with a dozen hobbits apiece. Uncle Saradoc put it out that he was interested to trading some ponies, and Da that he was utterly bored, and looking for some amusement in all this wretched rain, so they made a show of agreeing to meet in a central location, and discuss trading. But the upshot of it is that they have two dozen hobbits on ponies, only a hour on pony-back from here.”
“Well done,” Baggins shot him a look of approval that caused Pippin to beam happily. “Now, Dickon,” he turned to the young Dickon who had been watching the proceedings wide-eyed, a mug of beer nearly forgotten in his hand. “Here’s where the Irregulars come in. None are as fleet, and knowledgeable of short-cuts through these parts as your lads. I’ll need two up by the Proudfoot farm, and another with Jolly and Tom Cotton, at their farm. As soon as there is an indication that our enemies are on the move, and I believe that will be no later than the next day or possibly two, one of them must arrive here to see me as soon as possible, and the other to the Cotton farm.
“Jolly and Tom, I need the both of you to make your way to Hobbiton and recruit as many as you think possible, to assist when necessary. I do not believe that our enemies will make their move in daylight, so you should have at least tomorrow for that purpose. Then as soon as you receive word from the Irregulars, round up your forces and make your way to Bag End. I will meet up with you there. The Irregular in Hobbiton will then make his way to Michael Delving and alert those who wait there. Merry and Pippin, you must return to your fathers and let them know of our plans. They will be our secondary force, for I expect the Hobbiton forces will have their hands quite full until they arrive.”
“I must warn you all,” he looked around at us all, suddenly quite grave, “that I do not expect this to be an easy task. I’m afraid that there will be those who will be hurt in what is to come, if not worse. But I also believe that our beloved Shire is in great peril, and that the enemies who have made their way into it will not leave us to live our lives in peace, as long as they are convinced that the valuable for which they search is here. That is why they must be allowed to search Bag End first, for we must discover what this treasure is as well, however that is where we must trap them.”
Our faces reflected the flickering light as well as our thoughts, and I am proud to say that not a single face appeared anything less than resolute, nor showed any doubt. “Very well, Frodo,” Merry at last broke the silence. “You may depend on all of us to do our part. And I believe these intruders may find that we hobbits can be a rather stubborn folk, and far tougher than we might at first appear. Murder, theft and kidnapping are innovations that we can do without, no question about it. It’s time they went home, and left us alone.”
“Nicely put,” Baggins nodded in approval, with a wry smile. “Let us toss this rubbish out, and encourage them not to come calling again, at least until they learn their manners.”
&&&&&
We were at last alone, and wrapped in each other’s arms, well burrowed under the blankets. Sleep was the farthest thing from my mind, however, and obviously from Frodo’s as well. There was little to be said, under the circumstances, so I lay with my head on his chest, and listened to the reassuringly steady rhythm of his heart.
“There may well be tragedy tomorrow,” he suddenly murmured, his arms tightening about me nearly imperceptibly. “There could be heartbreak ahead for many, and possibly one of us as well.”
I closed my eyes, memories of heart-rending loss still so fresh in my memory. “It is a risk that must be taken, dearest,” I found myself whisper, burying my face against him. “And yet I don’t think I could possibly survive that twice.”
“Do you think we would lose each other forever, Sam?” he breathed, and I felt his hands softly caressing my face in the dark. “Do you think we would never meet again?”
“No.” I found his mouth then, and kissed him slowly, passionately, drawing him over me and clinging quite closely to that delicious form of his. “I would find you somewhere, somehow, my beloved,” I continued with fervor, once our lips had parted. “I don’t mean to ever be parted from you for long, come what may.”
“Oh, my dearest Sam,” and the yearning in his voice was unmistakable as he held me quite close, “don’t ever let me go. I’d be lost without you, dearest, I don’t think I could ever be as brave as you were. I’m so in love with you, Sam; I can’t begin to tell you how much.”
“Then nothing will happen to us tomorrow, Frodo me dearie, and there’s no sense a’worreting,” I whispered, greedily kissing his face, his neck, his throat. “Let me love you tonight, and the morrow will take care of itself.”
Much later, we lay together, sated and sleepy, and I noticed, drowsily, that the rain had finally ceased. Fair weather lay ahead.
&&&&&
The next day seemed to take forever. Both Baggins and I were to some extent trapped for the time being in our isolated smial; I, because I was supposed to be in the north, and Baggins, of course, was still not supposed to be among the living. About noon, we could stand the suspense no longer. I had to remain behind, in case there was any news via the Irregulars, but Baggins was determined to slip into Hobbiton in disguise to see what Jolly and Tom were managing to accomplish. He slipped into the ragged clothing in which I had first found him, rubbed a bit of soot across his face to appear more begrimed, and altered his posture, and suddenly I could hardly recognize him, Only his remarkable eyes gave him away, so a traveling cloak with a hood were necessary to complete the transformation. “No more than two hours, Sam, and I’ll be back,” he murmured, and was gone.
I watched him leave, and felt once again intolerably restless. But there was my pack, and more for the lack of anything else to do, I fell to sorting through its contents. One of my oldest and most worn shirts was at the bottom of it, and I contemplated it but for a moment before, with a mental shrug, I began to tear it into long strips. It was a pity, for my sister had put several hours into sewing it for me, but I suspected that a store of strips for bandages might just come in handy. Possibly the coming confrontation would be bloodless, but I definitely had my doubts on that score, and it would be well to be prepared. I had some salves with me, but the bulk of them were in Bag End’s larder, where I generally kept them. Well, at any rate, they would be close at hand. Bag End as a battleground was a concept that I was having a good deal of difficulty imagining.
Baggins returned, just as he had assured me, a couple of hours later. “Jolly and Tom have been quite persuasive,” he informed me, with a wry smile, as he gratefully accepted a mug of tea. “Indeed, my disguise was obviously satisfactory, since they tried to recruit me as well, without even knowing who I was. Merry and Pippin have had sufficient time to reach Michael Delving, I should think, and so all that remains is word that our foes are on the move.”
That word came just a short while later, as the dusk began to shade into evening. An excited Irregular pounded fiercely on the door, and announced, with great glee, that Men had been seen in the woods past the Proudfoot farm, great savage creatures with immense swords, and that they had horrible beasts with them as well. The Proudfoot farm was deserted, since Ned and his family had already sought refuge in Hobbiton, so there were none to gainsay them as they strode down the road, holding great torches high for light. How many, he could not say, for he had lit out as soon as he saw them, but the back of the pack was nowhere within sight, of that, he was certain. His fellow sentry had made his way to Hobbiton, as directed, and should be arriving there even now.
Baggins nodded at the news, his piercing eyes glittering with excitement in his smudged face. “Very good,” he praised the beaming lad. “You have done quite well. Now go find your captain, Dickon, and bid him find me near the oak on the far side of the road from the path up to Bag End. His services may prove to be quite useful to us still.”
The lad was off immediately, and Baggins turned to me. Catching me up in his arms, we met in a mutually fervent kiss. “I want my life back, Sam,” he murmured intently as we drew apart, his eyes fixed on mine. “I want Bag End with you in it, I want our evenings before the study fire, and most of all I want you in my bed every night, the way it used to be. And I don’t mean to let these villains take any of that from me.”
“Very well, Frodo, love,” I nodded with grim satisfaction. “Since I’ve never wanted any more than exactly that, myself, let us show them the door.”
&&&&&
All of what occurred in the next several hours is still rather a blur to me, I’m afraid. Battle seems like such an outlandish notion to us hobbits, but it was exactly that in which we found ourselves involved. The Hobbiton forces arrived at Bag End just as we did, and after a quick exchange of greetings with Baggins, whom every hobbit there was more than gratified to find was truly still alive, contrary to previous belief, Baggins boldly strode forward and stood in the open doorway of our smial. The intruders were already inside, wreaking havoc throughout the previously tidy rooms, searching for something that was still a mystery to us, as we could see through the windows, brightly lit up in the dark night.
There were a couple of Men at the doorway, looming large and uncouth, with fearsome swords ready in their hands, and it was they whom Baggins addressed. “This is my home,” he announced, as coolly as if he had discovered some hapless burglar attempting to break in, “and I’ll thank you to leave it immediately.”
It took a moment for the guards to react, as they stared at the implacably calm and polite hobbit before them, but they then broke into roars of laughter. “Go your way, little man,” jeered one of them. “This’d be Sharkey’s house now, and you ain’t wanted no more. Go dig yourself a new hole and quit your blubbin’.”
But Baggins stood his ground, and gave them an unruffled look. “Very well, then, I have warned you,” he commented, and then gave the signal. Immediately, a flurry of arrows flew out, and the two guards fell to the ground with anguished cries. That attracted the attention of their fellow marauders, who then poured out of the smial with blood-curdling shrieks of rage. “”Get rid of this rabble,” bellowed a large Man, obviously their leader, who then turned back inside with shouted instructions to those within in a language that I did not understand. I had by now caught up to Baggins, who was listening intently to the commands of the leader of the intruders. “They are still searching for this treasure,” he turned and grimly informed me. “Quick, Gamgee, we must know if there is anything to all this or not. Through the back door, and we must not be noticed!”
There was a storeroom at the back end of one of the less-used tunnels of Bag End, with a window frame that was loose, nearly completely overgrown and buried into the hill. I knew that, since Baggins had once confided to me that that was how he managed to slip out, from time to time, when he was a tween living here with Bilbo. Both of us had mentioned to each other, on occasion over the last several years, that someone really ought to see to that window, but there never seemed to be any pressing need to do so, and the notion was always quickly forgotten. But now, it was just the obscure entrance that we were looking for, and we both thought of it at nearly the same time. It did need a bit of jostling up and down, since ivy had grown through and around the frame, but at last the both of us managed to work it loose, and Baggins shimmied through, myself rapidly following in a much less graceful manner.
The shouts of the intruders could be heard down the hall, and Baggins listened carefully. “They’re in the study and the larder,” he whispered to me, and I caught a glimpse of his mouth set in a grim smile. “I’m afraid Widow Rumble will be most displeased when she returns. Apparently they are bent on turning the place inside out in search of this treasure, whatever it might be.”
Just then, though, there was a loud crash from the front of the smial, and the Men began to shout what were clearly imprecations to those outside. “The Hobbiton forces have attacked again from the front,” Baggins gripped my shoulder fiercely. “Now it is our turn to bring up the rear. Quickly, Gamgee, what have we here that we can put to better use?”
I gave a rapid glance about, and then seized up a rickety wooden chair with a broken back. Giving it a fierce whack on the ground, it immediately splintered into large pieces. “Here,” I gave Baggins one of the legs, which made a quite tidy cudgel, and found another for myself. “I do hope that was not an antique.”
Baggins gave a short laugh as he gripped the wooden weapon tightly before him. “I’m sure Bilbo would not think too harshly of us. Well done, Gamgee. Into the fray then, my dear.” And with a kiss so brief, I wasn’t entirely sure it had happened at all, he strode purposely down the hall, myself at his back.
My heart sank, as I followed him, when I saw the destruction ahead of us. I caught a brief glimpse through the doorway of the study of books and papers littering the floor, the contents of all the shelves swept off of them, and even the feather pillows on the settle ripped open, and feathers everywhere. The larder had been just as wrecked, and we entered the front hallway to find Sharkey, clearly the leader of the rabble, coolly sitting on the side table, as if it were a rustic bench, and casually prying the hallway chest open with his knife.
“I believe there are some spare umbrellas and mufflers inside that,” Baggins calmly mentioned, stopping in front of the intruder. “Would you like me to open it?”
“Well, so there’s another rathole in this warren,” growled the Man, tossing the chest aside as if it were a teapot. “A couple more squeakers to get rid of.”
“Since this is my home, I believe it is you who needs to leave,” Baggins returned, without a trace of fear in his expression. “I must say, though, I am curious. Why do you think there is something of value here?”
“If you don’t know, we ain’t telling, squeaker,” Sharkey gave a brutal laugh. “You just stay out of our way, and if I’m in a good mood, I might let you back in your hole when we’re all finished. And we’d be finished when we says we. . . Ow!” and he jumped up to his feet at this point. rubbing his shin a bit where Frodo had given him a good clout with his chair leg. “Why, you mangy little rat. . . Hoy! Bob! Gi’me a hand with these vermin!”
But Bob apparently had his hands full, for the sound of battle outside of Bag End was becoming more intense, as I lit into the villain as well. Baggins was matching him blow by blow, as I worked on getting at his legs, but the superior strength of his steel, and Baggins’ recent illness were beginning to show, when there was a new roar from outside. His attention only momentarily diverted, Sharkey gave a final lunge that sent Baggins’ weapon flying out of his hand and himself spinning across the hall and slamming into the wall, before striding out of the smial, both of us immediately forgotten.
I ran to Baggins, my heart pounding in fear, but he stubbornly raised himself back up from the floor, and muttered, “We must keep at him from the rear, Gamgee. He cannot be allowed to escape again.”
I nodded, mutely, and gripped my cudgel more tightly. With a quick, wry smile at me, he strode to the front door, and I followed. But then the sight that met our eyes quite took my breath away. The hobbit forces from Hobbiton were no longer alone. At their back were nearly three score mounted hobbits, the combined Brandybuck and Took contingent, led by Saradoc Brandybuck and Paladin Took. Their sons were mounted at their sides and all held leather shields and fearsome long staffs, and had sharp knives stuck in their belts.
A sudden hush fell over both the men and hobbit forces alike as Paladin Took rode his pony a step forward. “I am The Took,” his voice rang confidently out in the stillness. “And none may remain in the Shire against my will. You will take your creatures and leave, never to return, or your lives are forfeit. And if any of you should manage to make your way back to those who sent you here, tell them that we hobbits will defend our lands to the death of the last of us.”
For a brief moment, the Men traded fearful looks with each other, but Sharkey quickly broke the silence with a derisive jeer. “You ain’t goin’ t’let this pests get under your skin, now, are you, men?” he hooted, leaning over and giving the nearest hobbit, Ned Proudfoot’s youngest son, a savage cuff. “Why, next thing you know, they’ll be thinkin’ they can keep up with the likes of us!”
His men set up an uncertain cheer, as young Proudfoot’s indignant father caught him up in his arms as he fell to the ground. But as Sharkey stepped forward, Saradoc Brandybuck, still mounted on his pony at The Took’s side, let his knife fly from his hand as if he was picking off a plump coney with a stone. Sharkey gave a howl of pain as the knife buried itself deep in his shoulder. “The next one,” Saradoc mentioned, quite conversationally, “will hit your heart. I’d suggest you listen to The Took.”
The sight of their leader stumbling about, clutching his bloody arm and howling in pain, was all it took for the rest of the Men. They had not expected resistance, and they did not take it well at all. In no time, they were crashing through the brush at the side of the road, fleeing through the back hills, with the mounted hobbits tight at their heels. “We’ll take care of this lot, now, Frodo,” Merry shouted to him, right before he followed his father. “I’ll be back to tell you how it goes. You might want to tidy your place up a bit,” he gave an excited laugh, his face glinting in the torchlight, and then he was gone.
A few of the younger hobbits from Hobbiton ran off after the rest, shouting with excitement and glee, but most were picking themselves off the ground and checking each other for any signs of injury. I set about among them to see if I could be of assistance, but it was mostly a matter of cuts and bruises, and although a few would be limping and sore for a few days, there did not seem to be any severe injuries. In the midst of the milling about, however, there was a sudden shout, and two of Cotton’s sons came dragging a struggling form out of the underbrush.
“Well, if it ain’t Lotho Pimple,” a burly townhobbit cried out. “Looks like your friends left you behind, now, didn’t they?”
There was an angry mutter from the crowd, and it did not bode well for Lotho as he moaned, and fell to the ground, covering his head. “I had no choice; they gave me no choice!” he shrieked in fear, seeing the angry faces around him.
At that, Baggins stepped forward and stood by him. “No one is to touch him,” he announced sternly, looking about at the crowd. “He will answer to the authorities regarding what he has done, but it will be at a proper place and time. He has wronged no one more than me, but I will not allow the type of behavior such as that with which his former companions would have acted.”
“I’m afraid you are quite wrong about one thing, Baggins,” came a cold voice from the crowd, and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins stepped forward with an icy smile, full of fury, with an umbrella clutched tightly in her hands. “This is not merely a matter for the authorities, but quite a personal matter as well. A matter that, indeed, should have been taken care of many years ago,” she continued grimly, and Lotho’s face, difficult as it was to imagine, became even more fearful. “He will appear before the authorities tomorrow morning, I can assure you. And until then, you may quite safely leave him in my custody.”
There was not a word of dissent from the crowd as they stepped respectfully back from the pair as they left the scene, Lotho’s arm implacably in her grip, and quite a few were seen to give Lotho a glance, very nearly, of pity.
&&&&&
I slowly followed Baggins back into the shambles that was Bag End. How long had I yearned for this moment, but not like this, not at all like this. Baggins was unmistakably limping, due to the effects of having been slammed against the wall, and I was sore myself as a result of the skirmish. The door was difficult to close, from having been wrenched partially off its hinges, there was debris everywhere, and the study did not bear looking at. Baggins leaned against the hallway wall, looking sadly through the study doorway, and gave me a rueful smile as I walked up from behind and wrapped my arms around him.
“Welcome back home, dearest,” I gently kissed the back of his neck and felt his taut form begin to relax in my arms. “Do you think we’ll ever find out what they were searching for?”
“I doubt it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Probably just one of the wild tales about Bilbo’s dragon gold that reached the wrong ears. I’m quite sure we’ve heard the last of it. But I’m not sure I can forgive them about being so clumsy about their investigation.”
“Quite rude of them, without a doubt,” I had to agree, nibbling a little further down. “I must say, it was very brave of you to tell them so, Frodo, my love.”
His smile was beginning to turn rather dreamy, as he brought his hands up and clasped mine. “Couldn’t help it, Sam, my dear. They did annoy me so.”
I chuckled, drawing him closer to me. “That certainly was poor judgment on their part, I must say.”
He gave sigh of pleasure, leaning into me, and then turned around, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight that dimly lit the hall. “Do you know what I should really love, Sam?”
I shook my head with a smile, but I must admit the list of options was most enticing.
“A bath, my dear,” he replied, and laughed as he saw my face fall somewhat. “Ah, but I don’t think you are considering the possibilities,” he added, suddenly looking quite mischievous and years younger than he had as of late. “It is a rather large tub, you know.”
“Why, Frodo, I suppose…” I stammered, for I must admit that was a concept that had never crossed my mind before.
This time it was a genuine laugh he gave me, as he began to pull me down the hall. “I’m glad I can still shock you, Samwise; it would never do to become predictable, you know. Fortunately it does not appear they got this far down the hall, and so the kettle should still be intact.”
&&&&&
Since the master bedroom had been every bit as destroyed as the front rooms, we made our way, at last, back to my former room, at the back of the smial. I glanced about, after setting the candlestick holder on the small chest, with a bit of nostalgia. I hadn’t been back here much, in the last couple of months, and I did remember being quite content living back here. Of course I was at the time, but my life had opened up immensely in the meanwhile, and for all the anxiety and heartache I had recently gone through, I would not have wished it otherwise.
Baggins was watching me, his face shrouded in shadow. “A couple of months ago, I might not have bothered to come back here,” he mentioned quietly. “Bag End was a comfortable enough home, but there really wasn’t much to keep me here, and I’ve always been a bit of a vagabond. But that was a couple of months ago.”
“And now?” I breathed, mesmerized by the flicker of light across his face.
“Now, I can’t bear to be separated from you, Samwise. You were all I thought of as I fought my way back here. I’m afraid I’ve turned into quite a silly sentimental fool, my dear, but there it is.”
“Suits me nicely, love,” I know my face reflected the sheer joy I felt as I held out my hand to him. “Shall we be sentimental together?”
With a quick laugh, he reached out and pinched out the candle. I felt strong arms encircle me in the dark as we tumbled into the narrow bed. “What fools those Men were,” he whispered, between light kisses down my throat. “Treasure, indeed. No hobbit ever stores any treasure worth having in a chest. My treasure is right next to me in bed, as he ought to be. Their loss, I’m afraid, but then Lotho really wasn’t the hobbit to ask on that score.”
“Ahhhmph,” was my only contribution at this point for he had just found my mouth, but it seemed to be satisfactory. However, it is wondrous what having a proper mattress under one again can do in the way of inspiration. The bath had been stimulating, indeed, but perhaps Baggins wasn’t the only one in the mood for novelty. I, too, had a few ideas, and it suddenly struck me what I had left in the small drawer next to the bed. “Frodo, be a love and see if that jar is still in the drawer where I left it,” I mumbled, between nibbles on that delicious eartip.
Baggins reached over and retrieved it, and the haunting scent of lavender suddenly combined with his wickedly delighted laugh. “Oh, Sam!”
Title: The Empty Smial, Part Two
Author: Elderberry Wine
Pairing: F/S
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 12,856 (total)
Summary: Some, if not all, questions are answered, both LOTR and Holmsian canon is cheerfully and thoroughly mangled, and F & S make up for lost time. Part of the 221B Bag End series.
&&&&&
Even though I found the remote smial before the strands of fog had entirely lifted, I was not the first to arrive. The fauntling who had previously been my guide was rearranging the gorse over the door of the smial as I quietly made my way from the path at the bottom of the hill, and I’m afraid I rather startled him. The child’s exclamation on seeing me caused the door to open and Baggins stepped out into the cold white morning and smiled me a warm welcome. Turning to the young lad, who was still eying me with no small amount of wariness, he spoke a few words in a dialect that I couldn’t quite catch. The lad nodded briefly in response, and gave me a slight bow, touching his forehead, and immediately scrambled back down the hillside and out of sight.
“A clever lad,” Baggins watched him go with a look of approval, “and very perceptive. His mother has been kind enough to spare me some food, when she has any to spare, and I rather think the lad has taken me on as a pet project. After all, it was he who found me stumbling down the bank of the stream, not too far away. But I’ve told him that you’re a friend and a healer, and come to stay with me until I’m better.”
“Exactly what I propose to do.” I gave him a resolute look as I grasped his hand and drew him, not at all reluctantly, back into the smial. But as soon as the door closed behind us, we were instantly in each other’s arms, locked in a passionate embrace. “Oh, Frodo,” I finally murmured, when we had to break apart for a moment to catch our breath, “I’m quite serious about that, love.” Gently, I touched his face, drawing a careful hand down the side of his gaunt cheek, entirely too pale and bruised under my touch. “Saving the Shire, from whatever this peril turns out to be, is all very good, but I’m far more concerned about saving you. You are not looking in the least well, dearest, I hate to inform you, and we just can’t be having that at all.”
He laughed at my words, the first time I had heard that gloriously distinctive laugh since I had found him again, and the spark in his blue eyes was very nearly the same as of old as well. “I put myself in your hands, my dearest Samwise,” he murmured, with an impish smile, “in more ways than one. You will never have a more compliant patient, I assure you.”
All my best of intentions as to my making sure that he missed no more meals were very nearly forgotten at that point. As it was, second breakfast ran fairly late, and was taken in bed as well. It was nearly noon before he remembered the volumes he had asked me to fetch, a very uncharacteristic lack of focus on his part, for which I was happily quite responsible.
&&&&&
By late afternoon, the previously abandoned smial was beginning to take on a decidedly homely appearance, thanks to some determined effort on my part. I had shooed Baggins temporarily out, about midday, and gave the smial a thorough dusting and sweeping, since I had noticed that the thick dust that had lain about was causing him to have coughing fits when it was disturbed. In addition, I sent young Dickon (for that was the helpful young lad’s name, it seemed) off with a bit of coin, and instructions to bring back as much kindling as could be purchased, without raising any suspicion. I had brought warmer blankets, a kettle, and my frying pan, not to mention Baggins’ own pipe and a bottle of Old Winyards, so by the time what light that had shone that cold day had begun to fade, he was better dressed in warm clothing, wrapped in thicker blankets on the bed with his pipe and a mug of hot tea at his side, and I was frying a full pan of taters and onion, with a rasher of bacon and some fried apples at the side. The bottle of Old Winyards stood on the table, promising a relaxing evening, and Baggins had his nose quite cheerfully buried in his books. All in all, even though we were not at Bag End, I couldn’t possibly have been happier. And by the occasional glance he gave me, I knew he felt the same.
“Ah, there it is!” he abruptly exclaimed, giving a triumphant crow. With a satisfied nod, he closed his book with a resounding whump. “I knew I had heard that expression; I just couldn’t quite place it. The pieces are beginning to fall into place, Gamgee. Let’s pop open the bottle, my dear, and see if we can’t put a few of the pieces of this puzzle together.”
“As long as you eat as well, Frodo,” I gave him a stern look as I loaded a plate quite full and handed it to him. “I really can’t answer for the consequences otherwise.”
I slid the rest on a plate for myself, and twisting the cork off of the bottle, filled both of our mugs with the dark wine.
“Come here then, Samwise; you’re entirely too far away,” he commanded imperiously, accepting the mug with a nod. “Come have a seat on the bed with me, there’s a dear, there’s plenty of room, but you’ll want to move that lantern over here first. There we are; that’s better. Now where were we? Ah, yes. ‘Treasure’; that was the word I kept hearing. That was what they were expecting me to provide them, somehow. Something ‘the Baggins’ was to supply. I believe Lotho first convinced them that he was this ‘Baggins’ they sought, and then when he did not know anything about the treasure, he bargained with them to produce me. But from the argument that I heard, there is apparently a difference of opinion as to whether or not I am ‘the Baggins’ or another imposter like Lotho. I don’t mind mentioning that it seems as though Lotho is definitely in a bit of a tight spot. Possibly he thought to regain their favor by turning me over to them. It could not have gone well for him when I managed to escape.”
“I’m certainly not going to concern myself with Pimple’s fate,” I could not help but huff. “Whatever it is, he certainly deserves it.”
“Now, then, Sam,” Baggins interposed mildly. “These scoundrels really are a fearsome lot. Possibly he felt there was not much alternative.”
I set down my plate at that, all appetite suddenly vanished. “There is no justification for his behavior, Frodo,” I couldn’t help the lump I felt in my throat. “I’ll never be able to forgive him for those weeks when I thought you were lost to me.”
“Oh, Sam, my dear,” his face was instantly contrite, and he sought my hand. “I know I can’t begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
I gave his hand a quick kiss, unable to say more for the moment, when a sudden thought struck me. “There’s another Baggins,” I said slowly. “Mr. Bilbo.”
Frodo frowned, shaking his head a bit. “This surely can’t be that hoary old tale of dwarvish gold again,” he muttered. “It’s always been total nonsense, of course. Bilbo never brought back anything of value, just a few dwarvish trinkets, perhaps, but no more.”
“Perhaps he brought back something more valuable than he knew?” I couldn’t help questioning him.
“Well, that’s always possible, of course, but it doesn’t seem likely that these intruders have any connection with the dwarves,” he responded thoughtfully. “They are from the south, as far as may be determined, by their speech, and the kingdom of the dwarves lies to the north. I must say, however, that it seemed to be quite important that this treasure, whatever it is, be recovered as discreetly as possible. Apparently, there are others who seek it so it would not do, it appears, to search for it in an obtrusive fashion. That is why they would not invade Bag End as long as it was occupied, but now that it appears to be deserted, they may well move in.”
“You surely do not mean to watch for them?” I asked with a bit of alarm.
“No, it would rather pointless for either of us, and especially you, to be caught lurking about when we have taken such pains to make your departure obvious. But no one ever notices an aimless young fauntling or where he might wander. Dickon will be sending word once the game is afoot. And with any luck, Saradoc Brandybuck will be providing some support for us by then. If anyone has cause to wish us well in our attempts to capture these villains, it would be him.”
“And so we wait?”
“Exactly so,” he answered with a slow smile. “Dickon is a rather popular fellow with his mates, and has recruited several of them to help him keep an eye on Bag End, as well as keep an ear open for news of Jolly Cotton and Saradoc Brandybuck. There isn’t much excitement in these parts, and they have a fair amount of time on their hands during this sort of weather. I think we may safely trust to the keen observations of the North Stream Irregulars. And for the time being, at least, our time is our own.”
“Excellent.” My heart beat a little faster as he finished off the wine and let the book slid unheeded to the earthen floor from his fingers. “I have no doubt we can devise some way to pass the hours.” I picked up both empty mugs and plates, and with great satisfaction, noted that it was once again raining. “Seems as though the washing up will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“A thousand pities,” he murmured, his smile broadening as he made room beside himself for me to return to the bed. “I shouldn’t think we’d be needing the lantern light tonight. No sense in wasting oil, now, is there?”
“Always practical, aren’t you, my dear?” I felt my pulse quicken as I slid under the blankets next to him, my hand seeking the warm flesh beneath the clothing as he did the same.
“Precisely. Indeed, I am a most dull and uninteresting fellow, Sam. I’m really not sure what you find attractive about me at all,” he breathed next to me in the dark, following this nonsense with a spirited exploration of certain most sensitive areas right at the base of my throat.
“Oh, Frodo, I just can’t imagine, myself,” I gasped, as sparks of desire shot through me, and I felt myself involuntarily arching into his embrace. “But we are of a scientific bent of mind, you and I, and so I think that question should be explored in great detail.”
He gave a stifled gasp of his own as my lowered hand brushed against one of his more sensitive zones. “I think you’ve rather hit on the heart of the matter, my dear,” he whispered, and even in the dark, I could hear the smile in his voice.
I couldn’t help my own chuckle in return, for I was madly and impetuously in love with him, and my joy was so great I felt it must burst out of me somehow. “Well, no, that is not your heart, Frodo, point of fact, so perhaps further investigation is warranted.”
“Of course it’s not my heart, dearest Sam,” his voice was suddenly infinitely tender and caressing as his arms folded about me, “for that is what you have in your possession, and always shall have. I have given it to you for safekeeping, my love, for I know it’ll never come to harm with you.”
I quite possibly cried out something incoherent at that point, and left it to my hands, my mouth, and every other part of my body to make my response. I don’t think we hardly slept at all that night, for there were so many words that we had been afraid would remain left unsaid, so many kisses that might otherwise never have been given, and we had only begun to explore this wonder that was our love. So it was a very good thing that it was quite late in the afternoon, the next day, when Dickon politely rapped on the door.
&&&&&
“Mr. Baggins, sir,” he blurted out immediately upon entrance, giving both of us a quick nod, “there’s two gentlehobbits as followed Mr. Jolly back home, and word is as they’re your relations.”
“Oh, good heavens, Merry and Pippin at the Cotton farm?” Baggins chuckled with delight. “Good lads, they didn’t go to Bag End, but I really wouldn’t want them to be turning the poor Cottons topsy-turvy. Very well, Dickon, let me have you bring them here. And just so they don’t think it’s some sort of trap, I’d better give you a note. Here, Gamgee, you’ve a quill and a scrap of paper on you?” Hastily scribbling something on the piece I produced from my pack, he sent Dickon off with the note and a couple of coins, instructing him to have one of the other Irregulars stop by the Green Dragon and see what news there was there.
I only had time to make the smial slightly less untidy when there was a scuffling outside, and a pounding on the worn door. Two young hobbits hastily burst through the doorway as soon as I opened it and immediately attached themselves to Baggins with a flurry of hugs and shouts of “Frodo!” and not a few tears. Dickon was watching the scene with quite a grin, so I decided to intercede, stepping out of the smial with him to allow the reunion a bit of privacy.
“Hoy, now, they’re right glad t’see him, ain’t they?” he gave a nod to the smial as we stood together on the hillside and let the mist wet our faces.
“Cousins,” I explained briefly. “Haven’t seen him in awhile.”
“Well, then, I ain’t seen mine in a year or two, but when I do, we just punch each other an’ have done w’it,” he shook his head, still amused.
“Gentlehobbits, you know,” I couldn’t help but add.
“Which you ain’t,” he gave me a sudden sharp glance. “No worries, you’ve done right nice for yourself. And Mr. Baggins is as fine a hobbit as ever was, so any friend of his is fine w’me, be they gentlehobbit or no.”
I couldn’t help but grin back at him at this unexpected endorsement. “Very decent of you, Dickon, I’m glad to hear that. So, since it seems that Mr. Baggins will be occupied for a bit, you might want to stop by later to see if he has any other instructions. And if you could lay your hands on a loaf of bread or two,” I added, producing a bit of coin of my own, “and some taters and cheese, and anything else that can be spared, I’d be very grateful. You’ve no idea what damage those two can do to our meager larder.”
&&&&&
That evening, we held a war council in our small, and by now, quite cozy, temporary headquarters. Merry and Pippin were there, of course, and Dickon had fetched both Jolly Cotton, and his brother, Tom. Dickon had joined our party as well, for Baggins felt the time was right for all of us to be in accord as to what was to be done. I had fried up a couple of fine young coneys, presented with complements of young Dickon, and the Cotton brothers had brought plenty of bread, not to mention wine and beer for all. The seven of us were crammed quite closely in the small one-roomed smial, and it was, needless to mention, raining quite hard outside, but the mood within was not only rather festive, but quite determined as well. I noticed that both of Baggins’ cousins sat quite near him, finding any excuse they could to give him a quick hug or pat on the shoulder, and I entirely understood. But he was patience itself with their out of character behavior, and soon had them laughing and entirely at ease again.
“Our first order of business,” he announced, drawing out his pipe as we finished the meal, “is to understand where our enemies stand. And no, Merry,” he smiled at his cousin’s cry of alarm at that sight, “I won’t use my own pipeweed, if that’s what concerns you. Only Gamgee, here, can take it for any length of time, I’m afraid,” he added, shooting me a privately amused look.
Fortunately, there were some empty plates to whisk away just then, and another bottle of wine wanted opening, for I’m afraid my face must have been decidedly rosy. But Tom had news, and all else was forgotten for the moment.
“So Ned Proudfoot says as there’s been some ruffians seen up by his farm, you know, a bit north-east out of Hobbiton,” he said slowly, draining the beer in his mug, and giving his mouth a quick swipe with his sleeve. “Why, no, I’d not say nay to another pull; thank’ee kindly, Jolly,” he nodded to his brother as he passed him the jug. “Great shaggy fellows, they were, and Ned says as that he’s never seen Men before, but he’s guessin’ that’s what they were. And he wasna sure, but he’d have sworn as Lotho Pimple was with them, likewise.”
“So he’s still up to his neck in this,” hissed Merry in a fury. “”If it weren’t for his traitorous ways, they’d never have gotten so far into the Shire as they have.”
“Most likely,” Baggins nodded impassively, “but on the other hand, he has given us some very useful indications as to what is motivating these intruders. They are seeking something which they expect to find at Bag End, and apparently the Baggins whom they have sought is Bilbo, which would indicate that they are seeking something that he brought back with him from his travels. What it is, I certainly have no idea, so whether or not it is actually at Bag End is unknown, at this point. News of the both of you,” he eyed Merry and Pippin, “is bound to travel fast. Neither of you is particularly unremarkable, I’m afraid,” he added, his mouth quirking up with merriment. “And so our time is limited. And where are your fathers?”
“Oh, Frodo, you’ll appreciate this,” Pippin burst in, unable to contain his glee. “They are both at Michael Delving, each with a dozen hobbits apiece. Uncle Saradoc put it out that he was interested to trading some ponies, and Da that he was utterly bored, and looking for some amusement in all this wretched rain, so they made a show of agreeing to meet in a central location, and discuss trading. But the upshot of it is that they have two dozen hobbits on ponies, only a hour on pony-back from here.”
“Well done,” Baggins shot him a look of approval that caused Pippin to beam happily. “Now, Dickon,” he turned to the young Dickon who had been watching the proceedings wide-eyed, a mug of beer nearly forgotten in his hand. “Here’s where the Irregulars come in. None are as fleet, and knowledgeable of short-cuts through these parts as your lads. I’ll need two up by the Proudfoot farm, and another with Jolly and Tom Cotton, at their farm. As soon as there is an indication that our enemies are on the move, and I believe that will be no later than the next day or possibly two, one of them must arrive here to see me as soon as possible, and the other to the Cotton farm.
“Jolly and Tom, I need the both of you to make your way to Hobbiton and recruit as many as you think possible, to assist when necessary. I do not believe that our enemies will make their move in daylight, so you should have at least tomorrow for that purpose. Then as soon as you receive word from the Irregulars, round up your forces and make your way to Bag End. I will meet up with you there. The Irregular in Hobbiton will then make his way to Michael Delving and alert those who wait there. Merry and Pippin, you must return to your fathers and let them know of our plans. They will be our secondary force, for I expect the Hobbiton forces will have their hands quite full until they arrive.”
“I must warn you all,” he looked around at us all, suddenly quite grave, “that I do not expect this to be an easy task. I’m afraid that there will be those who will be hurt in what is to come, if not worse. But I also believe that our beloved Shire is in great peril, and that the enemies who have made their way into it will not leave us to live our lives in peace, as long as they are convinced that the valuable for which they search is here. That is why they must be allowed to search Bag End first, for we must discover what this treasure is as well, however that is where we must trap them.”
Our faces reflected the flickering light as well as our thoughts, and I am proud to say that not a single face appeared anything less than resolute, nor showed any doubt. “Very well, Frodo,” Merry at last broke the silence. “You may depend on all of us to do our part. And I believe these intruders may find that we hobbits can be a rather stubborn folk, and far tougher than we might at first appear. Murder, theft and kidnapping are innovations that we can do without, no question about it. It’s time they went home, and left us alone.”
“Nicely put,” Baggins nodded in approval, with a wry smile. “Let us toss this rubbish out, and encourage them not to come calling again, at least until they learn their manners.”
&&&&&
We were at last alone, and wrapped in each other’s arms, well burrowed under the blankets. Sleep was the farthest thing from my mind, however, and obviously from Frodo’s as well. There was little to be said, under the circumstances, so I lay with my head on his chest, and listened to the reassuringly steady rhythm of his heart.
“There may well be tragedy tomorrow,” he suddenly murmured, his arms tightening about me nearly imperceptibly. “There could be heartbreak ahead for many, and possibly one of us as well.”
I closed my eyes, memories of heart-rending loss still so fresh in my memory. “It is a risk that must be taken, dearest,” I found myself whisper, burying my face against him. “And yet I don’t think I could possibly survive that twice.”
“Do you think we would lose each other forever, Sam?” he breathed, and I felt his hands softly caressing my face in the dark. “Do you think we would never meet again?”
“No.” I found his mouth then, and kissed him slowly, passionately, drawing him over me and clinging quite closely to that delicious form of his. “I would find you somewhere, somehow, my beloved,” I continued with fervor, once our lips had parted. “I don’t mean to ever be parted from you for long, come what may.”
“Oh, my dearest Sam,” and the yearning in his voice was unmistakable as he held me quite close, “don’t ever let me go. I’d be lost without you, dearest, I don’t think I could ever be as brave as you were. I’m so in love with you, Sam; I can’t begin to tell you how much.”
“Then nothing will happen to us tomorrow, Frodo me dearie, and there’s no sense a’worreting,” I whispered, greedily kissing his face, his neck, his throat. “Let me love you tonight, and the morrow will take care of itself.”
Much later, we lay together, sated and sleepy, and I noticed, drowsily, that the rain had finally ceased. Fair weather lay ahead.
&&&&&
The next day seemed to take forever. Both Baggins and I were to some extent trapped for the time being in our isolated smial; I, because I was supposed to be in the north, and Baggins, of course, was still not supposed to be among the living. About noon, we could stand the suspense no longer. I had to remain behind, in case there was any news via the Irregulars, but Baggins was determined to slip into Hobbiton in disguise to see what Jolly and Tom were managing to accomplish. He slipped into the ragged clothing in which I had first found him, rubbed a bit of soot across his face to appear more begrimed, and altered his posture, and suddenly I could hardly recognize him, Only his remarkable eyes gave him away, so a traveling cloak with a hood were necessary to complete the transformation. “No more than two hours, Sam, and I’ll be back,” he murmured, and was gone.
I watched him leave, and felt once again intolerably restless. But there was my pack, and more for the lack of anything else to do, I fell to sorting through its contents. One of my oldest and most worn shirts was at the bottom of it, and I contemplated it but for a moment before, with a mental shrug, I began to tear it into long strips. It was a pity, for my sister had put several hours into sewing it for me, but I suspected that a store of strips for bandages might just come in handy. Possibly the coming confrontation would be bloodless, but I definitely had my doubts on that score, and it would be well to be prepared. I had some salves with me, but the bulk of them were in Bag End’s larder, where I generally kept them. Well, at any rate, they would be close at hand. Bag End as a battleground was a concept that I was having a good deal of difficulty imagining.
Baggins returned, just as he had assured me, a couple of hours later. “Jolly and Tom have been quite persuasive,” he informed me, with a wry smile, as he gratefully accepted a mug of tea. “Indeed, my disguise was obviously satisfactory, since they tried to recruit me as well, without even knowing who I was. Merry and Pippin have had sufficient time to reach Michael Delving, I should think, and so all that remains is word that our foes are on the move.”
That word came just a short while later, as the dusk began to shade into evening. An excited Irregular pounded fiercely on the door, and announced, with great glee, that Men had been seen in the woods past the Proudfoot farm, great savage creatures with immense swords, and that they had horrible beasts with them as well. The Proudfoot farm was deserted, since Ned and his family had already sought refuge in Hobbiton, so there were none to gainsay them as they strode down the road, holding great torches high for light. How many, he could not say, for he had lit out as soon as he saw them, but the back of the pack was nowhere within sight, of that, he was certain. His fellow sentry had made his way to Hobbiton, as directed, and should be arriving there even now.
Baggins nodded at the news, his piercing eyes glittering with excitement in his smudged face. “Very good,” he praised the beaming lad. “You have done quite well. Now go find your captain, Dickon, and bid him find me near the oak on the far side of the road from the path up to Bag End. His services may prove to be quite useful to us still.”
The lad was off immediately, and Baggins turned to me. Catching me up in his arms, we met in a mutually fervent kiss. “I want my life back, Sam,” he murmured intently as we drew apart, his eyes fixed on mine. “I want Bag End with you in it, I want our evenings before the study fire, and most of all I want you in my bed every night, the way it used to be. And I don’t mean to let these villains take any of that from me.”
“Very well, Frodo, love,” I nodded with grim satisfaction. “Since I’ve never wanted any more than exactly that, myself, let us show them the door.”
&&&&&
All of what occurred in the next several hours is still rather a blur to me, I’m afraid. Battle seems like such an outlandish notion to us hobbits, but it was exactly that in which we found ourselves involved. The Hobbiton forces arrived at Bag End just as we did, and after a quick exchange of greetings with Baggins, whom every hobbit there was more than gratified to find was truly still alive, contrary to previous belief, Baggins boldly strode forward and stood in the open doorway of our smial. The intruders were already inside, wreaking havoc throughout the previously tidy rooms, searching for something that was still a mystery to us, as we could see through the windows, brightly lit up in the dark night.
There were a couple of Men at the doorway, looming large and uncouth, with fearsome swords ready in their hands, and it was they whom Baggins addressed. “This is my home,” he announced, as coolly as if he had discovered some hapless burglar attempting to break in, “and I’ll thank you to leave it immediately.”
It took a moment for the guards to react, as they stared at the implacably calm and polite hobbit before them, but they then broke into roars of laughter. “Go your way, little man,” jeered one of them. “This’d be Sharkey’s house now, and you ain’t wanted no more. Go dig yourself a new hole and quit your blubbin’.”
But Baggins stood his ground, and gave them an unruffled look. “Very well, then, I have warned you,” he commented, and then gave the signal. Immediately, a flurry of arrows flew out, and the two guards fell to the ground with anguished cries. That attracted the attention of their fellow marauders, who then poured out of the smial with blood-curdling shrieks of rage. “”Get rid of this rabble,” bellowed a large Man, obviously their leader, who then turned back inside with shouted instructions to those within in a language that I did not understand. I had by now caught up to Baggins, who was listening intently to the commands of the leader of the intruders. “They are still searching for this treasure,” he turned and grimly informed me. “Quick, Gamgee, we must know if there is anything to all this or not. Through the back door, and we must not be noticed!”
There was a storeroom at the back end of one of the less-used tunnels of Bag End, with a window frame that was loose, nearly completely overgrown and buried into the hill. I knew that, since Baggins had once confided to me that that was how he managed to slip out, from time to time, when he was a tween living here with Bilbo. Both of us had mentioned to each other, on occasion over the last several years, that someone really ought to see to that window, but there never seemed to be any pressing need to do so, and the notion was always quickly forgotten. But now, it was just the obscure entrance that we were looking for, and we both thought of it at nearly the same time. It did need a bit of jostling up and down, since ivy had grown through and around the frame, but at last the both of us managed to work it loose, and Baggins shimmied through, myself rapidly following in a much less graceful manner.
The shouts of the intruders could be heard down the hall, and Baggins listened carefully. “They’re in the study and the larder,” he whispered to me, and I caught a glimpse of his mouth set in a grim smile. “I’m afraid Widow Rumble will be most displeased when she returns. Apparently they are bent on turning the place inside out in search of this treasure, whatever it might be.”
Just then, though, there was a loud crash from the front of the smial, and the Men began to shout what were clearly imprecations to those outside. “The Hobbiton forces have attacked again from the front,” Baggins gripped my shoulder fiercely. “Now it is our turn to bring up the rear. Quickly, Gamgee, what have we here that we can put to better use?”
I gave a rapid glance about, and then seized up a rickety wooden chair with a broken back. Giving it a fierce whack on the ground, it immediately splintered into large pieces. “Here,” I gave Baggins one of the legs, which made a quite tidy cudgel, and found another for myself. “I do hope that was not an antique.”
Baggins gave a short laugh as he gripped the wooden weapon tightly before him. “I’m sure Bilbo would not think too harshly of us. Well done, Gamgee. Into the fray then, my dear.” And with a kiss so brief, I wasn’t entirely sure it had happened at all, he strode purposely down the hall, myself at his back.
My heart sank, as I followed him, when I saw the destruction ahead of us. I caught a brief glimpse through the doorway of the study of books and papers littering the floor, the contents of all the shelves swept off of them, and even the feather pillows on the settle ripped open, and feathers everywhere. The larder had been just as wrecked, and we entered the front hallway to find Sharkey, clearly the leader of the rabble, coolly sitting on the side table, as if it were a rustic bench, and casually prying the hallway chest open with his knife.
“I believe there are some spare umbrellas and mufflers inside that,” Baggins calmly mentioned, stopping in front of the intruder. “Would you like me to open it?”
“Well, so there’s another rathole in this warren,” growled the Man, tossing the chest aside as if it were a teapot. “A couple more squeakers to get rid of.”
“Since this is my home, I believe it is you who needs to leave,” Baggins returned, without a trace of fear in his expression. “I must say, though, I am curious. Why do you think there is something of value here?”
“If you don’t know, we ain’t telling, squeaker,” Sharkey gave a brutal laugh. “You just stay out of our way, and if I’m in a good mood, I might let you back in your hole when we’re all finished. And we’d be finished when we says we. . . Ow!” and he jumped up to his feet at this point. rubbing his shin a bit where Frodo had given him a good clout with his chair leg. “Why, you mangy little rat. . . Hoy! Bob! Gi’me a hand with these vermin!”
But Bob apparently had his hands full, for the sound of battle outside of Bag End was becoming more intense, as I lit into the villain as well. Baggins was matching him blow by blow, as I worked on getting at his legs, but the superior strength of his steel, and Baggins’ recent illness were beginning to show, when there was a new roar from outside. His attention only momentarily diverted, Sharkey gave a final lunge that sent Baggins’ weapon flying out of his hand and himself spinning across the hall and slamming into the wall, before striding out of the smial, both of us immediately forgotten.
I ran to Baggins, my heart pounding in fear, but he stubbornly raised himself back up from the floor, and muttered, “We must keep at him from the rear, Gamgee. He cannot be allowed to escape again.”
I nodded, mutely, and gripped my cudgel more tightly. With a quick, wry smile at me, he strode to the front door, and I followed. But then the sight that met our eyes quite took my breath away. The hobbit forces from Hobbiton were no longer alone. At their back were nearly three score mounted hobbits, the combined Brandybuck and Took contingent, led by Saradoc Brandybuck and Paladin Took. Their sons were mounted at their sides and all held leather shields and fearsome long staffs, and had sharp knives stuck in their belts.
A sudden hush fell over both the men and hobbit forces alike as Paladin Took rode his pony a step forward. “I am The Took,” his voice rang confidently out in the stillness. “And none may remain in the Shire against my will. You will take your creatures and leave, never to return, or your lives are forfeit. And if any of you should manage to make your way back to those who sent you here, tell them that we hobbits will defend our lands to the death of the last of us.”
For a brief moment, the Men traded fearful looks with each other, but Sharkey quickly broke the silence with a derisive jeer. “You ain’t goin’ t’let this pests get under your skin, now, are you, men?” he hooted, leaning over and giving the nearest hobbit, Ned Proudfoot’s youngest son, a savage cuff. “Why, next thing you know, they’ll be thinkin’ they can keep up with the likes of us!”
His men set up an uncertain cheer, as young Proudfoot’s indignant father caught him up in his arms as he fell to the ground. But as Sharkey stepped forward, Saradoc Brandybuck, still mounted on his pony at The Took’s side, let his knife fly from his hand as if he was picking off a plump coney with a stone. Sharkey gave a howl of pain as the knife buried itself deep in his shoulder. “The next one,” Saradoc mentioned, quite conversationally, “will hit your heart. I’d suggest you listen to The Took.”
The sight of their leader stumbling about, clutching his bloody arm and howling in pain, was all it took for the rest of the Men. They had not expected resistance, and they did not take it well at all. In no time, they were crashing through the brush at the side of the road, fleeing through the back hills, with the mounted hobbits tight at their heels. “We’ll take care of this lot, now, Frodo,” Merry shouted to him, right before he followed his father. “I’ll be back to tell you how it goes. You might want to tidy your place up a bit,” he gave an excited laugh, his face glinting in the torchlight, and then he was gone.
A few of the younger hobbits from Hobbiton ran off after the rest, shouting with excitement and glee, but most were picking themselves off the ground and checking each other for any signs of injury. I set about among them to see if I could be of assistance, but it was mostly a matter of cuts and bruises, and although a few would be limping and sore for a few days, there did not seem to be any severe injuries. In the midst of the milling about, however, there was a sudden shout, and two of Cotton’s sons came dragging a struggling form out of the underbrush.
“Well, if it ain’t Lotho Pimple,” a burly townhobbit cried out. “Looks like your friends left you behind, now, didn’t they?”
There was an angry mutter from the crowd, and it did not bode well for Lotho as he moaned, and fell to the ground, covering his head. “I had no choice; they gave me no choice!” he shrieked in fear, seeing the angry faces around him.
At that, Baggins stepped forward and stood by him. “No one is to touch him,” he announced sternly, looking about at the crowd. “He will answer to the authorities regarding what he has done, but it will be at a proper place and time. He has wronged no one more than me, but I will not allow the type of behavior such as that with which his former companions would have acted.”
“I’m afraid you are quite wrong about one thing, Baggins,” came a cold voice from the crowd, and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins stepped forward with an icy smile, full of fury, with an umbrella clutched tightly in her hands. “This is not merely a matter for the authorities, but quite a personal matter as well. A matter that, indeed, should have been taken care of many years ago,” she continued grimly, and Lotho’s face, difficult as it was to imagine, became even more fearful. “He will appear before the authorities tomorrow morning, I can assure you. And until then, you may quite safely leave him in my custody.”
There was not a word of dissent from the crowd as they stepped respectfully back from the pair as they left the scene, Lotho’s arm implacably in her grip, and quite a few were seen to give Lotho a glance, very nearly, of pity.
&&&&&
I slowly followed Baggins back into the shambles that was Bag End. How long had I yearned for this moment, but not like this, not at all like this. Baggins was unmistakably limping, due to the effects of having been slammed against the wall, and I was sore myself as a result of the skirmish. The door was difficult to close, from having been wrenched partially off its hinges, there was debris everywhere, and the study did not bear looking at. Baggins leaned against the hallway wall, looking sadly through the study doorway, and gave me a rueful smile as I walked up from behind and wrapped my arms around him.
“Welcome back home, dearest,” I gently kissed the back of his neck and felt his taut form begin to relax in my arms. “Do you think we’ll ever find out what they were searching for?”
“I doubt it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Probably just one of the wild tales about Bilbo’s dragon gold that reached the wrong ears. I’m quite sure we’ve heard the last of it. But I’m not sure I can forgive them about being so clumsy about their investigation.”
“Quite rude of them, without a doubt,” I had to agree, nibbling a little further down. “I must say, it was very brave of you to tell them so, Frodo, my love.”
His smile was beginning to turn rather dreamy, as he brought his hands up and clasped mine. “Couldn’t help it, Sam, my dear. They did annoy me so.”
I chuckled, drawing him closer to me. “That certainly was poor judgment on their part, I must say.”
He gave sigh of pleasure, leaning into me, and then turned around, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight that dimly lit the hall. “Do you know what I should really love, Sam?”
I shook my head with a smile, but I must admit the list of options was most enticing.
“A bath, my dear,” he replied, and laughed as he saw my face fall somewhat. “Ah, but I don’t think you are considering the possibilities,” he added, suddenly looking quite mischievous and years younger than he had as of late. “It is a rather large tub, you know.”
“Why, Frodo, I suppose…” I stammered, for I must admit that was a concept that had never crossed my mind before.
This time it was a genuine laugh he gave me, as he began to pull me down the hall. “I’m glad I can still shock you, Samwise; it would never do to become predictable, you know. Fortunately it does not appear they got this far down the hall, and so the kettle should still be intact.”
&&&&&
Since the master bedroom had been every bit as destroyed as the front rooms, we made our way, at last, back to my former room, at the back of the smial. I glanced about, after setting the candlestick holder on the small chest, with a bit of nostalgia. I hadn’t been back here much, in the last couple of months, and I did remember being quite content living back here. Of course I was at the time, but my life had opened up immensely in the meanwhile, and for all the anxiety and heartache I had recently gone through, I would not have wished it otherwise.
Baggins was watching me, his face shrouded in shadow. “A couple of months ago, I might not have bothered to come back here,” he mentioned quietly. “Bag End was a comfortable enough home, but there really wasn’t much to keep me here, and I’ve always been a bit of a vagabond. But that was a couple of months ago.”
“And now?” I breathed, mesmerized by the flicker of light across his face.
“Now, I can’t bear to be separated from you, Samwise. You were all I thought of as I fought my way back here. I’m afraid I’ve turned into quite a silly sentimental fool, my dear, but there it is.”
“Suits me nicely, love,” I know my face reflected the sheer joy I felt as I held out my hand to him. “Shall we be sentimental together?”
With a quick laugh, he reached out and pinched out the candle. I felt strong arms encircle me in the dark as we tumbled into the narrow bed. “What fools those Men were,” he whispered, between light kisses down my throat. “Treasure, indeed. No hobbit ever stores any treasure worth having in a chest. My treasure is right next to me in bed, as he ought to be. Their loss, I’m afraid, but then Lotho really wasn’t the hobbit to ask on that score.”
“Ahhhmph,” was my only contribution at this point for he had just found my mouth, but it seemed to be satisfactory. However, it is wondrous what having a proper mattress under one again can do in the way of inspiration. The bath had been stimulating, indeed, but perhaps Baggins wasn’t the only one in the mood for novelty. I, too, had a few ideas, and it suddenly struck me what I had left in the small drawer next to the bed. “Frodo, be a love and see if that jar is still in the drawer where I left it,” I mumbled, between nibbles on that delicious eartip.
Baggins reached over and retrieved it, and the haunting scent of lavender suddenly combined with his wickedly delighted laugh. “Oh, Sam!”
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It's fun to write mystery plot, but it's devilishly difficult to get all the details (or at least most, I hope!) straightened away. But then F&S insist on me concentrating on what's really important, so it's all good! ;D
Many thanks, once again!
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May I friend you?
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I wonder what Lobelia did to Lotho, hum?
Heh - let us just say that Lobelia's umbrella never looked quite the same again.
And of course, you may friend me, and I shall friend you! *beams*
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It's really late here and so I just say a quick thank you and give you some hugs *hughughug* and I'll promise I'll be back asap with proper feedback but I wanted to thank you now because I'm so very happy about this!!! *hugs*
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Thank you so much for the virtual flower, that was so sweet of you!
*gives you late virtual birthday hugs*
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Speaking of which…Poor guy, he really does catch it in your tales doesn’t he? lol
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You don't tug on Superman's cape, and you don't mess around with the halflings. *g*
Thank you, my dear!
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Great ending... dangerous and romantic... and written with great cleverness and wit. I love your Baggins and Gamgee; hope you write more in this Holmsian AU. Thank you!
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I do love this AU - but I might add that the Shire has a distinct shortage of villains, as compared to fog-bound gaslit London. Poor Lotho got the short end of the stick here. Well, then, I suppose I must make them up. *cracks knuckles with glee*
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Sorry, I am a sucker for Sam h/c, and my imagination tends to go into overdrive at the slightest provocation. ;o)
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Doyle never thought of that in the originals. I suppose none of the ruffians ever though Holmes gave a rat's behind. Sam h/c, eh? *mind is now officially in overdrive* It's very hard to resist that gorgeous icon of yours, you know...
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Thank you very much, my dear!
the sweet love scenes between Frodo and Sam are to die for! Hee! Fortunately not!
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Very creative mixing of the two canons. And I believe that some time in the lockholes would be too light a sentence for Lotho - will he escape to wreak future havoc? I guess that depends on Lobelia.
*gives you big squishy*
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Heh - you don't mess with The Master of Brandy Hall, any more than you do with The Took. Saradoc feels that a bit of payback is not entirely unwarranted.
Lobelia is Not Amused, and what's worse, she's been totally embarrassed in front of the entire Shire. Let's just say that Lotho is not in for a happy time of it.
So glad you enjoyed it! *big hugs back!*
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My day couldn't have started better.
Thank you, dear. Another time you painted wonderful pictures with words.
I enjoyed reading this, very very much.
Love and hugs,
Julchen
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Thank you very much!
*love and hugs back atcha*
EBWine
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So there *is* a TE in every universe... ;)
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*mwah* and thanks, m'dear!