Pretty Good Year
"Stop, I don't want to hear any more!" Fastred wailed, covering his ears with his palms and shaking his head from side to side. "I hate this part!"
Frodo smiled softly and nodded. "All right, I've stopped. Hey, little one, it's all right." he touched the boy's shoulder gently. "I've stopped."
"I hate that part." Fastred sniffed, sullen. "It's sad and scary."
They were on a bench in the garden, the afternoon sun dappling everything with green shade and bronze light. Frodo looked over as Sam carried an armful of leaves and twigs to the compost heap.
"But you know it ends well."
"Doesn't matter. I still hate it. Gollum's awful." he hugged his legs to his chest and stared at Frodo with a pout.
"He wasn't awful. It wasn't his fault, really, that he was what he was."
"Mum says that about Jacky. She says he has growing pains." Fastred wrinkled his nose. Frodo caught Sam's eye and couldn't help but smiling. Sam dusted the dirt off his hands and came over to crouch beside Fastred.
"Mark my words, that brother of yours is going to meet real trouble one of these days. Too much sauce by half. If you're done with the story for now, you can come see to the garden beds with me. Lots of slithery worms in the soil there."
Fastred grinned and scampered off. Sam inclined his head, wordlessly asking if Frodo wanted to follow. Frodo shook his head and watched the two of them walk over the hill together, tilting his head back with his eyes closed, the sunlight making red-pink patterns behind his eyelids.
Rosie was in one of the store rooms, putting some of Elanor's outgrown baby clothes away until they were needed next time around. The little girl was growing so fast, it seemed to Rosie she'd be walking and running in the blink of an eye. Frodo came up behind her and rubbed at the back of her neck, just at the spot where she always got the sore knots after lifting.
"If you promise to keep doing that, I might just have to marry you." Rosie sighed.
"Hardly seems fair to Sam."
"Oh, he can marry you too, I don't mind." with a smirk, Rosie swatted at Frodo's wandering hand that was cupping at her hip. "Not right now, go dunk your head in the waterbucket if you're feeling in that sort of mood. I've got too many things to do."
"Come out into the garden? Just for a minute. It's a lovely day."
"No, be off with you before I find some moldy old trunk for you to scrub."
Frodo laughed, hugging at Rosie and spinning her in a giddy half-twirl. "We've had a sudden role reversal, Rose. Usually it's you trying to get me to come out of the gloom into the fresh air."
"I'll come out later, once I've got this confusion of a room a bit more sorted." she promised. "Shoo! Go back into the sunshine."
Frodo did just that, pausing on the way to check on Elanor in her cradle. She tried to reach up and pull on the chain around his neck, then settled for kicking her blanet off and burbling baby talk. He tickled under her arms and then wandered outside. Sam was sitting on the bench, smoking a pipe with a mug of tea beside him.
"Fastred gone home, has he?"
"Aye. Wanted to go boast to his brother that he climbed to the top of one of those tall trees down by the road. I doubt he'll mention that I gave him a boost up, mind." Sam smiled. Frodo went and sat down beside him. They rested there, happy to exist in the quiet together.
"Our story certainly has ended well, hasn't it Mr Frodo?" Sam said contentedly, sipping at his tea. "Better than even I wished for, and my sister Daisy always used to say I had a head for wishing."
Frodo leaned up in the afternoon stillness and kissed Sam gently, tasting the light sweet herbs of the tea on the warmth of his tongue, the tenderness and strength that went hand in hand in making an excellent gardener.
"Any story can have a happy ending if you know where to stop it." Frodo suggested when he broke away from Sam.
"There's only a lucky few who get a happy ever after without the stopping, though." Sam's careful hands pulled Frodo close again, opening the top two buttons of his shirt and skating across the pale skin with rough thumbs. "And if I've any say in the matter, we shan't ever stop for anything."
"Not even dinner?" Rosie cut in, leaning on the doorframe with one hand on her hip. "Come on you two, you look very pretty out there but I doubt the rest of the Shire would agree with me on that point. We can eat and then go out the back garden, a little more private than this."
"Oh come on Rose, let's give them a show." Frodo smirked. "We could set tongues wagging for years if the right people walk past."
"Folk might want to join in, and we'd have to turn them away. Doesn't seem polite." Sam pointed out. Frodo laughed and the three of them headed inside.
"Oh, blast it!" Rosie grabbed a vase of flowers and dumped it over the stove, dousing flames that had been licking up far higher than they should have been. "One of these days I'll leave a candle burning and burn the whole place down, I just know it."
"I heard a story that you once set your brother's hair alight." Frodo carried plates over to the table.
"Well, not really. Singed it a little, perhaps." she admitted. "Nick likes to make a fuss."
"My firebug." Sam laughed, picking Rosie up and dancing her around the room. "If it's all the same to thee, lass, I think you might want to leave the cooking to me and Frodo after this."
"Hmph." Rosie rolled her eyes. "A fine bit of gossip that would make. That Rose Gamgee, can't even keep a house in order and cook for her men."
"Better that than actually cooking us." Frodo put in, then ducked as she went to smack him across the head.
~
Pretty Good Year | email Mary
