Morgul Cooties
Hope Grubb was unused to the rustling of a new dress and found herself tiptoeing down the hall of Bag End to compensate for the noise. Her hair was still damp and she ran nervous fingers through her curls. Muffled voices from the master bedroom slowed her even further and she glanced in through the slightly open door.
She watched as Master Frodo Baggins smoothed his new misty-silk waistcoat and fastened up a row of silver buttons. He gave it a final tug and turned to Mistress Rose for her approval. Not given to extravagant compliments she merely put a fluttering hand on her bosom and sighed. Frodo laughed right out loud and turned to the full-length mirror for a more objective opinion. It reflected the rich gleam of the oaken bedroom furniture and the brilliant spring colors of the patchwork quilt thrown over a deep, comfortable bed. A bed long enough and wide enough to sleep three. A strange sort of jolt traveled down Hope’s spine at that thought and she tried to banish her imaginings from her head. Still, the mirror reflected all manner of loving and beautiful things and Hope imagined that its opinion of them was positive this sunny morning.
“Am I doing the right thing, Rosie?” Frodo softly asked, his delight seemingly dimmed by a nagging worry. Rose put her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“Yes. It’s absolutely the right thing. Right for you, right for Hope, right for all of us.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the chin. “You’ll see. And please don’t go out there looking like you’re about to take on a dragon. This is a very happy occasion.”
“I’ll try. No, I’ll do it. I’ll look like the village idiot, I’ll be so joyous.”
“Don’t strain yourself. You’re a very delicate and wan person, y’know.” She passed the backs of her fingers down his smooth cheek. He smiled.
“Yes, I know.” Frodo lifted Rose completely off her feet and bit her on the neck. Rosie made a strange sort of GEEP! noise that set them both giggling and Frodo slid her down the length of his body until she touched the floor again. He tilted her head back…Hope blushed a magnificent scarlet and rushed past the door before she could be seen.
Master Frodo was so handsome. No, that was the wrong word. Mayor Samwise was handsome, his sons were handsome, even Mistress Rose could be called handsome but Master Frodo…he was…absolutely…heartbreaking. Even more so when he was worried about her. So sweet…he was concerned about the right thing to do? Not nearly as concerned as Hope.
She paused in the middle of the hall and tried to calm herself with deep breaths. Was she doing the right thing? Was Master Frodo? In an effort to be brave and, above all, practical, she reminded herself that greater and more desperate deeds had been done in the name of safety and…security.
“There you are!” Elanor shouted as she burst out of her own room. Hope stifled a scream. “Get in here! We need to finish your hair before it dries.”
“I could just braid it…”
“Oh, nonsense!” Elanor seized Hope by the arm and dragged her inside where her sisters Rose-lass and Goldilocks were waiting, sorting through brightly colored ribbons and fresh flowers. “Today’s a special day and you have to be PERFECT!” Hope was thrust into a chair and sat quietly while a squabble broke out over just what style, what ribbons, what buds would be ‘perfect’ enough.
Perfect.
She stole a glance up at Elanor, the mayor’s oldest daughter, blessed by Elves. There was perfection. A beauty so staggering it was unreal and unenviable. You don’t envy a star in the sky, do you? Hope reckoned that, if they had ever so desired, Master Frodo and Elanor could seduce the stones out of the Earth, but they weren’t the ones to blame for today’s inevitable ceremony. Frodo wasn’t to blame. No, no, no.
Hope blamed herself. Fool. Fool that she is.
She twiddled with a stray lace and remembered…
Oh, it all started so innocently. Hope’s research into the Great War had brought her and her little sister, Delphinium, inevitably to Bag End. Heroes filled that hill: Nine-Fingered Frodo the Ringbearer, a far-flung cousin of hers on the Baggins side that she had never met before (her very-proper parents had made quite sure of that when they were alive) Samwise the Strong, easily the best mayor that Hobbiton ever had, and the Briar Rose, Sam’s wife, also known as the Mercy of Bywater due to her unflagging devotion to the needy in that area during the Ruffian Siege.
Hope had practically dashed up the Hill, pulling Del behind her. They were introduced to everyone: all the golden children, the Ringbearer, the Mayor, the Mercy, and little Sammie, the Scandal. Sammie was practically a smaller version of his father and Hope thought it was adorable the way he called Master Frodo ‘Uncle.’ Uncle indeed! His huge eyes tentatively stared up at her and she just couldn’t help herself. She had kissed him and Del had dragged him away to play. Neither realized what a favorable impression their guileless acceptance made. The sisters had seen a great deal in their travels and one infamous little boy wasn’t going to faze them. Besides, didn’t all the Hobbits in Bywater love Sammie? A darling child like that?
They were permitted to stay for an entire week and Hope was relishing the opportunity to learn the Great Ones’ story, to bask in the warmth of their valour. She eagerly unpacked her pens, ink, paper and charcoals and carefully set them onto her very own guest bed. Del had her own bed, too, and Hope knew she would be in ecstasy over that. Hope studied her as Del ran past the window, in hot pursuit of Daisy Gardner, and decided that Del’s dress would last a little longer if it was turned inside out and the seams re-sewn. There was nothing she could do about the length, though, short of begging the child to stop growing. For now, there was work to do and she gathered up her materials. The heroes were waiting.
She didn’t understand…then…that a hero’s unending purpose was to save those that needed saving. Whether they wanted saving or not.
Had she known the extent of the interfering compassion she would encounter she would have avoided the entire area. Dinnertime was especially trying. “Lass, aren’t you tired?” Mistress Rose would get directly to the point as she ladled out bowls of rich beef stew that were passed from hand to hand down the long, long dinner table. Del loved this aspect of mealtimes at Bag End and enthusiastically passed meat and breads all around her as if she were threatening to fling it. Food enough to throw! She was wearing one of Goldy’s hand-me-down dresses and it fit beautifully. Hope had slowly turned over a piece of potato in her mouth while she looked at it. Reluctantly, she decided to let it pass. Glancing away she caught Master Frodo watching her. To her relief, he went back to his soup. Mistress Rose was still holding forth. “You’re barely into your tweens and you’re wandering all over the Shire in all weathers. Don’t you want a secure place to rest? To stay?”
“Well, ma’am.” Hope had argued. “I am secure. I love what I do. Libraries all over the Four Farthings depend on me and I make a living…”
“Barely. I think they’re cheating you, my girl, you’re so young and all…”
Mayor Samwise would back up his wife, pointing at Hope with a carving knife. “Hear, hear, I agree with Rosie. I think you need to find a nice position with a well-off family. You’d have proper meals and a roof over your head. We’d take you on but we have more than enough help built in.” He smiled broadly as his two eldest children, Elanor and Frodo-Lad, came in bearing an enormous platter of apple tarts for dessert. “You have to think of Delphinium too, y’know.”
Hope would smile ever so politely while holding back maniacal shrieks. “She’s happy.” She reassured them and Del’s giggles at the other end of the table emphasized her point. “We’re both happy and we’d really rather not be beholden to any family. We’re quite independent and we have a room in practically every library in the Shire. We have standing invitations at any number of Grubb homes, Great Smials in Tuckborough and Brandy Hall in the Bucklands. Anyone with books! We’re safe. We want for nothing.”
It was true enough. So what if they were the eternal good guests? Always smiling and cheerful and entertaining no matter the circumstances? Never quite belonging? The point was they were unbound! Independent! They could leave whenever they wanted and go wherever they pleased. Freedom under the stars and along the countless hidden paths that run through the Shire was worth bearing the cold, the heat, the exhausting work and the occasional hunger. She doubted anyone in this well-fed and comfortable family could possibly understand. Besides, soft beds made her back hurt. Offers like theirs had been made before and, as usual, she decided to lie. “Anyway, I wouldn’t last long. I can’t sew. I have a tendency to break things so I’m no good cleaning and no garden would survive me for very long, I’m afraid. I can’t cook.” She smiled apologetically at the Mayor, with just a shade of flirtatiousness, hoping to distract him from the subject.
“Can’t cook!” he teased, winking back at her. “What good are you?”
Hope shrugged her shoulders in an exaggeratedly helpless way, earning a laugh from Merry-lad and Little Pip who had her squashed between them.
“Actually, she’s been invaluable to me.” Master Frodo said and Hope was surprised by his sudden defense. “I thought she was just going to copy out what bits of history the libraries would find important but she’s organized my notes and found that manuscript I thought I’d lost. She’s even reading over my stories and poems for mistakes.”
“You poor thing!” The Mayor exclaimed and slid an extra tart onto her plate. Hope burst into genuine laughter and Merry and Pippin giggled again as they gazed up at her adoringly.
“The Whitfoots have plenty of room. Perhaps we could arrange something with them?” the Mistress Rose mused, cutting into her pie. Hope had the distinct feeling she was not being listened to. A flat refusal would be rude, to her mind, and she was desperate to keep her access to Master Frodo and his Red Book full of adventure and horror so she kept her peace. Mistress Rose began quietly conspiring with Elanor and Hope sighed.
The next morning she had faced a row of Gardner girls staring at her with uncomprehending pity at the breakfast table. Elanor was spokesman and she started right in as the entire family listened to the fresh attack with relish. “You work too hard, you’ve barely been out of Uncle’s Frodo’s study since you got here. What about dances? Lads? Feasts and parties and Holidays? You never have fun! You never play!”
Delphinium stopped trying to spear Sammie with her fork and leapt to her big sister’s defense. “She does, too, play!”
Elanor looked down the table at Del and sniffed, hugely. “Oh, really? What does she play?”
“She plays Chase!” Del ignored Hope’s frantic shushing motions, determined to defend the Grubb honor.
“Chase?”
“Every time we go to Tuckborough, Thain Paladin chases her around and around the dinner table…” The sudden explosion of laughter nearly blew out Bag End’s windows and Del stopped, surprised. The Mistress Rose choked on her sausage and had to be thumped on the back.
“Does he…” The Mayor gasped for breath. “Does he ever catch her, lass?” Hope was miming all manner of terrible retribution in Del’s direction. Master Frodo’s eyes were gleaming with merriment so Delphinium ignored her.
“No, she ducks under the table and he pokes at her with Master Peregrin’s sword until somebody rescues her…” She demonstrated with her fork. Frodo-lad actually slid out of his seat and onto the floor. Hope hid her face in her hands.
That night Mistress Rose tucked Delphinium in with kisses and a story about two lost and wandering princesses who fought for their lives against an evil witch who wanted to eat them! Eat them alive! Through great courage and cleverness the Sisters threw the witch into her own oven. They took over the witch’s home and lived there Happily Ever After. The story brought Del to tears and Hope fumed. Why? Why all the nagging? What interfering Hobbits! And there were so MANY of them and they never gave up…why?!
An answer of sorts came to her after yet another nightmare, courtesy of the dark passages of the Red Book, kept her awake. After all the evil, all the pain and terror and suffering that the heroes had borne it must be rather a comfort to fret over such a minor thing as the well-being of a pair of itinerant girls. Yes, that was it. And if Mayor Samwise gave her just one more heart-wrenching look of caring sympathy from his big, brown eyes she was going to lose all resolve and cling to his legs, forever.
The sisters had left an entire day early. “You act like they have Morgul Cooties!” Del complained, loudly. “I like them!”
“Oh, shut up and walk faster!”
"Meli, Molly, Daisy and Sam
Went to the river and opened the dam.
Baggins, Gardner, Brandybuck, Took
Lent over the edge to get a good look.
Fair hair, black hair, two for dark brown
Smiled at each other before they jumped down.
Four little hobbits, all in a row
covered in water from head-top to toe.
Crow, canary, sparrow and lark,
They are my candles that light up the dark."
Meli Took and Molly Brandybuck, staying in Bag End for the summer, were singing and their wavering notes drifting through the round window interrupted Hope’s memories. She smiled and hoped the girls could learn to carry a tune someday. Soon. Goldilocks blushed and grinned. “I can’t believe they’re still singing my song.”
“That’s such a nice song! I want to be in a song! I want to be a bird, too!” piped up a sweet little voice that Hope recognized as one of the Gardner’s neighbor’s children, Aster Digg-Tooter. “I want to be a dove. I want to be Aster Dove! Y’know, all pretty and soft and nice! What bird do you want to be, Del?”
“Uh oh…” Hope cautioned. Elanor went to the window, her hands still in Hope’s hair so as not to lose her place in the braiding, so Hope was obliged to follow her or have her head pulled off. Goldy and Rose-lass followed curiously.
Delphinium was standing under a plum tree with the others, Meli, Sammie, Aster, Daisy and Molly, looking at her expectantly. She ran her fingers under the stiff cuffs of her own new dress and thought over Aster’s question with a little smile, drawing out the suspense. Hope knew that look and humphed. Del came to a decision, “I want to be…a buzzard. I want to be Delphinium Buzzard! Y’know, all mangy and ugly and terrible!”
Aster’s face twisted in disgust. “That’s hideous! You’re not a buzzard!”
“I am what you are not, Asssster. Buzzards eat doves for breakfast.” Del’s hands hooked into claws. “They eat sparrows and canaries, too! And larks are yummy and crows taste just like chicken!” She lunged and all the children took off screaming. Sammie was pushing Aster ahead of him, Daisy ran behind the tree and Meli and Molly…
“Run, Molly-Lark!!” Meli yanked Molly out of harm’s way and tripped over her own feet. She hit the ground with a solid thud and curled into a ball. “BUZZARD! NO!”
Del pounced. “Die, Sparrow, die!” She tried to haul Meli away but Molly had returned and the two began to pull the Took in half.
“DELPHINIUM!! Stop trying to eat Meli and keep your dress clean!” Hope shouted and the girls became still as stone. Meli pouted. Sammie and Daisy, sneaking up from behind, also stopped, disappointed. Aster had fearfully stayed well out of the way. “You can tear each other apart as soon as the ceremony is over!” Del stuck out her tongue. Elanor tugged and Hope obediently went back to her chair. Goldilocks was still smiling, pleased that her song was spreading. Spreading horribly, yes, but spreading. Suddenly Rose-lass decided Elanor’s braiding was all wrong and the bickering broke out again.
Hope sighed and her thoughts turned again to how she ever got into this predicament.
The Bag End research she had amassed was thorough and extensive and her superiors were very pleased. She and Del settled into a cramped and drafty store-room at the Main Branch in Hobbiton to organize it all and that work took a while.
They were close enough to Bag End to become regular visitors whenever Hope needed to augment what she had learned and the two stayed overnight more often than Hope liked. They had to. Mayor Sam wouldn’t let them out the door if it so much as drizzled.
One cold, March morning the girls had come up the Hill to find Master Frodo coming down without a cloak, his shirt open and his head down. He was muttering to himself and his face was flushed red. Hope had read about his illnesses in the Red Book and had even spoken to Del about them but the reality of his suffering frightened her. None of the Gardners had told her…none of them had warned her…“Master Frodo?” Hope untied her own threadbare cloak and held it out, approaching him slowly. “Stay back, Del. Master Frodo? It’s cold out, sir.” His eyes were bottomless depths. Hope’s voice shrank to a whisper. “M...Master? It’s Hope, sir.”
He shook his head while the wind cut them both. “Hope? No…how can you hope, Sam, if the Ring should go into the fire and we are nigh? We’ll only need enough food to get there for we’ll never get back…” Hope very slowly placed her cloak around his shoulders and turned him around. “We’ll never make it back, Sam. We’ll never see Rosie again…”
“Yes, you will, sir. I promise.”
“I know you love her, Sam. I love her, too. I never told her…I never realized…”
“She knows, sir.” Hope kept her arms around him and walked him slowly back up the hill. Delphinium followed behind with a sizable rock in each hand, ready to throw, in case he became difficult.
The Gardners were actually surprised to see them back again, a few days later. Hope was surprised, too. She had to return, though, the work was unfinished, and Del missed her friends. Yes, that was the reason. The family became downright clingy and little gifts came from everyone. Hope resisted all attempts to be taught how to sew, cook or not break things and spent most of her time with Master Frodo, who was back to normal, or as normal as he could get, rearranging and organizing his new material for the libraries. Del often popped in herself, sitting quietly on the floor and copying the ornate script she found in the many books. The study and Master Frodo himself became a strange sort of calm refuge in the center of the Gardner storm.
The girls needed a refuge, too. Delphinium Buzzard stuck close to the Fearsome Four, unless they were planning a raid on someone’s crops. A true fight had broken out between her and the other children as to whether or not they were simply ‘hooking’ or outright stealing. Del said they were stealing and disapproved. She turned her back on the protests and accusations of being a Stickinthemud and stayed in Frodo’s study with a righteous look on her face until both parties missed each other enough to make peace.
Hope caught her fair share of trouble, as well. Mistress Rose still disapproved of her. The nerve. Rose Gardner, of all people, passing judgment on her. One rainy night at dinner Hope was subjected to the usual. “Fredegar Bolger just inherited an enormous smial on the borders of Hobbiton. Fatty has his family and his mother in law, Heliconia Banks, living there. Now, mind you, that old lady’s got a tongue that could cut through iron and she and Fatty fight like maniacs but it’s a good position…”
“Why aren’t you going to the Took party? It’s Thain Paladin’s birthday and I’m SURE he’d love to see you again…” Elanor teased.
“And the Rumbles, just down the hill in #2 Bagshot Row, have all sorts of room and they need a nice girl…” Rose continued.
“I can’t…” Hope protested (politely of course) “I have work to do. I’m very busy. And we don’t need to settle anywhere. We’re just fine, right on our own. Truly!”
At bedtime Mistress Rose had a new story for Delphinium and Hope lay in her bed and gritted her teeth while it went on. It was about a Great Lady who locked herself away in a tall white tower of oliphaunt ivory who suffered only a few attendants to come into her presence when she needed them. She did nothing but sit at a great wooden loom and work all day and all night since she cared for nothing that the outside world had to offer. She did, however, have a faded and scratched mirror just in front of her and directly opposite the window at her back so she could occasionally glance in it to see the dim reflection of the grounds outside.
One day she stretched her tired spine and looked in the mirror just as a beautiful knight went riding through the countryside. Amazed by his face, his form, his very bearing, the Lady got up and turned to the window for the first time in her life. The sheer, piercing beauty of the world and the handsomeness of the Knight within it, the sun in his hair, was too much for her to take and she dropped dead on the spot. Her attendants placed her body in a boat and floated her down the river as they couldn’t be bothered to dig a proper grave. The Knight saw her go floating past and was struck by her fine features. “I could have loved that Lady.” he said to his horse. “We could have had a wonderful life, perhaps, in my castle. But, too bad, she’s dead.” The horse agreed. The boat went over the falls and the Lady passed out of all memory. Too bad, indeed! The end!
Del gave a mean giggle and applauded Mistress Rose, who curtsied. Hope ignored them both by pretending to be asleep.
Even Master Frodo made digs as they sifted through scrolls and books and endless papers. “You need to settle somewhere, Miss Grubb. Delphinium will get sick and then what will you do?”
Hope remembered swallowing in anger but her face remained pleasant. “Oh, she’s such a healthy girl. All this walking has made her very strong, you know. She doesn’t get sick.” Master Frodo had smiled at her. Not the smile that gave her butterflies in the stomach but a knowing, eerie smile with his eyebrows raised. For the first time she had a sense of Master Frodo, not as a fellow scholar, the tired and occasionally ill Master of a smial overrun with children, but as someone…distinctly…Other. The Other who had suffered within the Eye of All Evil and been forever changed from the norm. Chills raced around her skin as if cold, slimy hands had suddenly circled her throat. “She’ll never get sick!” Hope repeated, leaning forward defensively.
“Yes, she will. And very soon. I know. I know it as surely as I know the sky is blue and the grass is green. Are you going to fight me over it?” He asked, suddenly amused. Hope realized, to her horror, that she was out of her chair and looming over the Ringbearer himself, her hands out, as if she were about to grab him. She stepped back and sat down. Unfortunately she missed her chair entirely and landed on her rear, hard enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. Frodo hid his mouth behind a thin hand and snorted. “She won’t get sick!” Hope wheezed, defiant to the last.
Naturally, the little monster had come down with a violent fever that very
day. Hope thought of the drafty store-room at the Hobbiton Branch and cursed herself as she and Mistress Rose put Del to bed. Now, they were well and truly trapped.
A day passed and the fever got worse. Del began screaming, cursing, fighting and babbling in her fevered confusion while the Mistress Rose caught and held her hands and the Mayor, the Mayor himself, changed the hot plasters on her chest. They moved with the ease of long practice and Hope didn’t wonder at it. Del was screaming, “Let me go! Let me go! Don’t you hit me! I’ll tell my Da and Ma! They are NOT dead! I’ll tell my sister! She’ll kill you, Aunt Emeralde! Let me out! LET ME OUT!” Hope, biting her hands in fear, shame and helplessness gave the Mistress Rose a very short explanation.
“Our parents died when our smial caved in. We were taken in by Emeralde Grubb, my father’s least favorite sister, and her rotten family. They treated us…very badly. They treated us…like servants…worse than servants, like slaves…but, after three years I found employment and we escaped. They called us…ungrateful…” she balled her hands into fists.
Mistress Rose looked as if she wanted to hear more but Hope wasn’t forthcoming. She smoothed back Del’s sweaty curls. “No wonder she loved those vengeful tales of mine so much.” she mused. “The ones where the evil queen or aunt or stepmother got their just desserts in the end. Stabbed through the heart. Danced to death. Banished. Del loved them. Gave me quite a turn, the poor bloodthirsty thing.”
“I admit I loved those, too. I especially liked the one where the evil witch was shoved into the oven…” Hope broke down and turned to the wall, mortified at showing weakness and ashamed of herself for being embarrassed over her sister’s illness in someone else’s home. Worse, the home of heroes. She felt helpless. The Mayor left the room and Del whimpered at the loss.
Rose’s voice was low. “I usually make those awful stories up about once a month when I’m feeling horrible. And I’m not pregnant. I think that’s one of the reasons I have so many children.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lass. I wouldn’t have teased you with my stories and nagged at you if I had known.”
“I know. It’s just…we will never suffer that again. I swore. I swore we’d be free. I swore no one would ever take us over again…” she scrubbed her face furiously.
Del suddenly grunted in fear and rage and lashed out again. Rose allowed her to strike at the air until she was exhausted and continued to croon a timeless lullaby. The child quieted. Hope heard a sniffle at the door and turned just in time to see Sammie dash away. Rose waited until Hope’s own tears stopped.
“No, you will never suffer that again. I swear it, myself.” She stroked Del’s hands. “Miss Grubb,” Mistress Rose finally said, “I’ve talked it over with Sam and Frodo and we’ve decided. Frodo has a proposal for you. And a very timely one, at that. He’s in the garden.”
Hope said nothing. Trapped, she was trapped.
Rose’s voice was soft and earnest. “Please go and hear him out. Trust me.”
Hope slowly stood up as if a giant stone were on her back. At the door she turned, “Master Frodo knew she would be sick.”
Rose nodded. “Frodo knows…much. Most importantly, girl, he knows what’s best. Trust him! Trust me. You won’t…ever…regret it.”
Trust.
Hope had closed the door behind her and stood in the hall, swaying with exhaustion. She considered running away. But what about Del? And where would she go? Bree? Rohan? Mordor? There was only one place she could go. She turned and resolutely went to the garden where Master Frodo was waiting for her.
“Which brings us to today…” Hope mumbled, fraying the lace she held in her fingers and trying not to wince with every rose-bud stem that Elanor jabbed into her scalp.
“Not too many, Elly.”
“I KNOW, Rose! There, that’s finished it. Stand up, Hope!” Hope stood and looked in the mirror. She was too terrified to judge herself properly but she seemed pretty. “Oh, you’re darling! Look at you!” Rose-lass agreed and
Goldilocks applauded. Hope smiled and twitched her dress like any four year old.
Merry-lad and Little Pip burst into the room and both were disappointed to see Hope already dressed. Nice try, lads. Hope glared at them. “The Dignitary’s here!” Merry-lad announced. “It’s time!”
“OUT!” Elanor aimed a kick at them and they ran out again. “It’s time. Are you ready?” Hope made a strange sort of gurgle in her throat, which meant Yes and, luckily, Elanor interpreted it as such. “Let’s go, then!”
They met the Mayor in the hall. His eyes were very bright. “Aw, Dad…” Rose-lass teased. “You’re not going to blubber are you?”
“Have to, lass. These things always make me cry.” He brandished a large red handkerchief to show how prepared he was and his daughters giggled. “Let’s see how long I last, eh? YOU look lovely!” He kissed Hope on both cheeks. “And you made those cheese pastries for the feast tonight, didn’t you?” he accused. “I thought you said you couldn’t cook?”
“I lied. I can sew, too.” Elanor, Goldy and Rose-lass laughed again and poked at her while the Mayor beamed. “But I really am awful with plants.”
“Can’t have everything.” he said and offered her his arm.
She took it. “Thank you, sir.” she choked out and off they went down the hall, out the front door and into the sunny garden. She looked about for Delphinium and saw her standing next to the plum tree along with the other children. To her great shock she saw that Del was still clean and completely unrumpled. Del met her eyes and Hope knew why. She was terrified, too, and subdued enough to behave, for once. Hope dredged up a reassuring smile. Del simply waved back, her face a blank.
“Is everyone ready?” the Dignitary inquired. It was none other than Old Heliconia Banks herself. Fatty Bolger had driven her and his entire family in for the treat and he, himself, was already edging towards the dessert table. It promised to be a great party with all the Gardners, the Bolgers, the folks from Bagshot Row and anyone else who happened to wander by, like Aster Digg-Tooter, her older sister Floria, and their Aunt Mimi Proudfoot who had all been waylaid on their way to the market. They stood together, a rather large crowd, and tried not to step on anyone’s toes as they all tried to get the best vantage point. Someone reassured Heliconia that all was ready and Hope found herself before the intimidating old Hobbit and standing next to Master Frodo. She wondered if either was fast enough to catch her if she bolted.
“We shall proceed, then.” The garden grew quiet and all Hope could hear were the birds in the trees. Die, sparrow, die. Speaking of death, if her parents weren’t already dead this ceremony would have killed them. “Will the Master of this household and these lands announce himself?” Heliconia called out, looking vaguely over Frodo’s shoulder.
“I am here.” Frodo answered and Heliconia focused on him. Hope heard a sob behind her and turned to see the Mayor with his face in his handkerchief. Mistress Rose was patting him on the arm and grinning. He hadn’t lasted very long at all.
“What is your name and title?”
“Frodo Baggins. I…I am a landowner.” Hope knew that Master Frodo’s actual list of titles and accomplishments was long and dramatic so he was hoping to avoid them. But Hobbits lived for such things and Heliconia simply smiled pleasantly and waited. Frodo sighed and continued. “I am the Master of Bag End and Former Mayor of Hobbiton, Council member of the Shire under current Mayor Samwise Gardner, Shire Historian…” He drew a deep breath. ”…I am named Counsellor of the North Kingdom by the King Elessar, also named Knight of Gondor and Arnor by the King Elessar, named one of the Lords of Ithilien by Prince Faramir, named Knight of Rohan by King Eomer, named Respected of the Dwarves by Lord Gimli of the Glittering Caves, named Elf-friend by Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod, and known to all peoples as the Ringbearer and the Doom of Sauron.”
“And he can bake a cherry pie!” Fatty called out, earning himself a laugh from everyone.
“No, he can’t!” Mistress Rose and at least seven of her children refuted. More laughter. Heliconia scowled at her son-in-law and waited until it died down. She turned back to Frodo again and, indeed, he could have gone on with his various honors until the sun went down without repeating himself but he seemed to think he’d said enough and kept his mouth shut. Resigned, Heliconia let it go.
“Will the Intended announce herself?” she called, looking over Hope’s shoulder now.
“I…uh….” Hope stammered. Heliconia looked upon her and Hope was surprised to see a teasing smile on that dour face. The smile of one who’s seen it all and is mighty amused at the fuss before her now. She timidly smiled back and suddenly felt her fear and doubt melt away as if the fine old lady had waved a magic wand at her. It truly was going to be alright. Trust. Yes. “I am here.”
“Good.” Heliconia nodded at her. “Good girl. What is your name and title?”
“Hope Daffadowndilly Grubb. I am a researcher and archivist for the Combined Libraries of the Four Farthings.” A pitifully short list of accomplishments Hope thought. Heliconia smiled again.
“Are there any objections to the proceedings?” For one awful moment Hope was afraid that Delphinium would object, but she did not.
“Very well, then. Master Frodo Baggins do you take Miss Hope Grubb into your service?”
“I do.”
The ceremony went on, with a great many words and a reading of the rights, under law, that both parties were entitled to, a listing of the work Hope was expected to do (the organization and keeping of Master Frodo’s books and written business as well as the continuation of her work with the libraries and, of course, babysitting) for a period of seven years. Declarations of loyalty, protection and service were proclaimed by Hope and Frodo to one another (the Mayor sobbed again) five witnesses were brought forward to add their signatures to the service contract in purple ink and everyone burst into applause when it was over. It had all been a blur to Hope and, dazed, she allowed Merry-lad and Little Pip to drag her towards the food. Delphinium was there and she crooked her finger at her big sister. Hope excused herself and went over. She leaned down. “Are you all right, Del?”
Del slowly nodded. “I’m scared but I really do like them.” She bit into a sugar-frosted strawberry and shrugged. “But, I hope you fare better than Master Frodo’s last servant.” Del very, very quietly teased. “G’lum, g’lum!” she gurgled.
Hope allowed a ridiculously lecherous _expression to appear on her face, “Maybe I’ll fare as well as his first servant?” They looked over at the Mayor. Frodo was pretending to wring out Sam’s handkerchief, then leaned over and gave his former gardener a kiss on the mouth.
“Maybe if frogs had wings…” Delphinium began but she was hauled away by Molly before she could finish. It seemed the two of them had a Meli Tug Of War still in question. “DIE, SPARROW, DIE!!”
Frogs. That night Hope and Delphinium hosted a Grubb housewarming in their room. By law, it was all theirs and no longer Master Frodo’s. By law, they were protected. By law, by lay, by law. Their room was snug and comfortable and the sisters loved it. Hope had spent a pretty penny of her savings at the market to buy the Gardner children treats they didn’t normally get as Mistress Rose believed firmly in home-baked goodies. There were exotic toffees, brightly colored hard candies and imported chocolates and all the children were in ecstasy. The Master, Mistress and Mayor paid them a visit of state and, unable to get past the crowd, were thrown caramels through the door. They went away, laughing, and Hope decided to tell a story.
“’Kiss me.’ Said the Frog to the Lone Princess. ‘Oh, go ahead and give me a nice smooch, I’m magic!’
“’You are NOT!” yelled the Lone Princess. “You’re a slimy, warty, ugly old FROG!’
“’That may be.” He answered. ‘And it may not be. But I’m certainly all you’ve got!’ The Lone Princess looked at the cold wastelands surrounding her and her heart was heavy for it was so, so true. ‘C’mon… I can grant your every wish!’ the Frog wheedled.
“’I wish for warmth, comfort, and a family to love and care for. I wish for a beautiful castle to call my own. I wish for security on one hand and freedom to roam throughout the wild on the other. I wish for the sun and moon and stars! Can you give me that?’
“’Um…”said the Frog. ‘Yes?’ He smiled a big, insincere smile at her and the Lone Princess laughed. He was a bulgy-eyed, hideous frog, yes, but he had also proven himself a good friend for he had cared for her when she was ill. She lay down on the ground and moved closer. The Frog became very happy, you can imagine. He puckered up his green, warty frog-lips…’” Hope demonstrated with grotesque smacking noises.
“EWWWWW!!!” Her audience exclaimed. Delphinium, squashed between Sammie and Ham with a baby on her lap almost choked on her chocolate.
Hope laughed at them. “And the Lone Princess puckered up her own pretty, ruby-red lips and laid the nicest kiss she could on the Frog. Suddenly, there was a BANG!!!”
Her audience jumped.
“The Princess looked up. She was in a castle! It was warm! The sun was in a golden basket hanging from the ceiling, the stars were on the walls and the moon was in the closet. And the Frog was gone. In his place was a Prince and behind him was his court of friends and family, now her friends and family, too. He was very handsome, even though his eyes were still sort of bulgy, and he helped her to her feet.
“’Now…’ he said, ‘Was that so hard?’”
End
~
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