"It's good for infection, though, and that cut on your forehead's not healing as I'd like it to," Rosie retorted. "Now, where have Daisy and Sammie gotten to? I told them to get a start on this washing up."
"We did get a start on it, Mum." Daisy bounded through the doorway with one of the high bunches she wore her hair in coming loose. "But then we saw a duck outside, right in the garden, and we thought it looked like it wanted to have a friendly visit with us. It had walked an awful long way, we couldn't make it wait."
"No, of course not." Rosie's voice was dry but not really scolding. "Where's your brother now?"
"Which one? Merry and Fro and Pip are all off mucking about with that pony Dad let them take charge of. And Ham's learning his sums down by the Party Tree, and Bilbo's helping Dad with the taters. I've got a lot of brothers, Mum, you'll have to be more specific."
"You know very well which brother I was talking about, my girl, and don't think I didn't notice that you left him out of the roll-call."
Daisy's conversational tone switched to one of helpful attendance. "Want me to start on that washing up then, Mum?"
"Daisy." There was a warning in the tone. Goldy hid a self-satisfied smile behind her cup of tea. Rosie didn't play favourites with her children, not at all, but for all Daisy's wicked behaviour it was Goldy who caused the most exasperation in her mother. To not be the one in trouble made a nice change.
"He's reading with Uncle," Daisy admitted regretfully. "Don't be cross, Mum, it wasn't Uncle's idea. Sammie begged and begged."
"I'm not cross, Daisy-duck. The washing's still going to be there when they're done with their strange words. I just like to keep a vague idea of where my brood's causing trouble at a given moment."
"Oh, all right." With a surprised grin, Daisy turned to return to her garden and her new duck friend.
"Daisy." Rosie stopped her. "The washing, please?"
"But you said -"
"Leave half for your brother, and get yours done now. And no grumbling!"
Rosie walked down the hallway as quiet as a hobbit could be, still light on her feet after all these years of chasing after naughty babies and scrubbing at fingerprint-marked windows. Sammie and Frodo were sitting side by side at the desk, a blank book open before them to copy letters into.
"Yes, that's it, wilwarin. You're very quick with these," Frodo said, patting Sammie on the shoulder. The little boy beamed at the praise.
"And what's that mean?" Rosie asked, rapping her knuckles lightly against the open door by way of knocking.
"That's butterfly, Mum!" Sammie informed her. "And laisi is baby, and lindele is music."
"Well, my little laisi, go and help your sister with the washing now. More lessons after supper, all right?"
Sammie nodded and climbed off his chair, running off to teach Daisy all the new words he knew.
"He's a clever lad." Rosie came over and rubbed at Frodo's shoulders. He leaned back into her touch with a sigh. "Though that's hardly surprising."
"With a mother like you, perhaps not." Frodo smiled with his eyes shut.
"Oh, so it's flattery now is it, Mister Baggins? I've never trusted flatterers," teased Rosie.
"Really? I've found they're the most rewarding people to trust. They never let the truth get in the way of a compliment."
"Oh, there are enough compliments in the truth to keep you warm for all your days, Frodo."
"Flatterer."
~