A thirty-second fic by Iorhael

Written for Marigold’s Challenge 5. Many thanks for Celandine Goodbody for the beta.

Write a story in which something is lost. It can be whatever you wish, including a person, thing, or even a personal quality, such as innocence.

Rated: G

Summary: Bilbo left the Shire and Sam had something Frodo could have never imagined.

“Are you sure you will be fine, Cousin Frodo? I can stay longer.”

Frodo looked up and handed Merry his traveling cloak. Frodo’s smile was faint.

“No. You’ve been here too long. What will your parents say? Aunt Esmie will be anxious.”

“But what if those uninvited folks come again?” Concern was apparent in Merry’s voice and features.

“I shall manage,” replied Frodo softly.

Merry put on his cloak and reached for the doorknob, grumbling. “But you’ve never been home alone before.” He stepped out of Bag End and turned back, hugging Frodo.

“I don't expect anything bad,” he said as he pulled back, his eyes level with his cousin’s.

Frodo was years older but Merry often felt protective over him despite their age difference. Perhaps it was because he was taller and stronger or maybe because Frodo had no parents anymore. Though Bilbo had officially adopted him when the old hobbit brought him to Hobbiton, Merry still found that his cousin sometimes brooded over things that were lost in his life. Yes, Frodo needed looking after.

Gulping, trying to hide his true feelings, Frodo shoved his cousin playfully.

“Nothing bad will happen to me,” he said, a mocking tune in his voice. “I – and I shall not be alone anyway. The Gamgees are just around the corner. The Gaffer comes here everyday with his youngest, Sam. So I shan’t be alone.”

“All right,” breathed Merry after sometime. He patted Frodo’s shoulder, trying to ensure himself that everything would indeed be all right. “I’m going now, Frodo. Take care of yourself. Send us a message if you need anything.”

“I will,” promised Frodo. “Fare you well. Bye.”

Frodo stood still until Merry disappeared from his sight, and then he let down his guard. His shoulders slumped as he walked inside. And when the round door closed behind him, Frodo leant back on it heavily. He felt utterly alone. It was true that the Gamgees would be here everyday, but they would not be here when the sun set and all was dark. At night Frodo would be all by himself. How he would manage to go through those nights, he had not the slightest idea.

* * *

For several moments Frodo just stayed there against the door. His eyes wandered across the living room, going further along the hall, and he was struck with a new knowledge. How big Bag End was! And it felt even bigger with only one person inhabiting it. Frodo’s eyes roamed over the couch and chairs and wondered if anyone would ever sit on them again. He had decided to stay mostly in his bedroom.

And the dining hall – would it ever be filled with people having breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, lunch, tea, dinner, or supper? He would stay in kitchen instead, if he felt like eating at all. Never mind the meal times.

Frodo crept down the hall slowly, flailing his hands along the wall without realizing it. He felt foolish to be afraid in his own house.

Then the hobbit sped up to his bedroom. Frodo did not care anymore if he would have nothing to feed his grumbling stomach. Reaching his room, he felt his hand shaking as it turned the doorknob open. He threw himself in and slammed the door closed a little bit too hard.

Then Frodo did something he never thought he would do – he locked the door. Tossing himself up on to the bed, Frodo remembered none of his usual habits. Fully clothed, he pulled his blanket up to his chin and squeezed his eyes tightly shut although he felt neither sleepy nor sure he would ever be able to sleep. Frodo only hoped he would feel better in the morning.

* * *

Frodo could not place what had awakened him. However, he was sure it was voices from the dining hall or living room.

He sat upward in his bed, heart pounding, as he tried to think of the many possible reasons that could explain the voices. Were they robbers, or even murderers? Were they looking for him? Or maybe Bilbo’s ring that he had inherited? He wasn't sure but it might be valuable.

Another thought slipped into his mind. Might they be the Sackville-Bagginses sneaking in, trying to scare him out of Bag End?

Frodo got out of bed and went to the door. He panicked for a brief moment to find the door locked. And then he remembered having locked it himself. Sliding the bolt open, Frodo caught his breath when he heard the voices again. This time they came from the kitchen.

Bracing himself, Frodo turned the doorknob, deciding to check the kitchen first. It was closer than the living room.

A figure was stooping over the hearth on the other side of the kitchen. Frodo could see that it was a male and for a moment he was completely terrified. The other hobbit looked sturdy and strong. Frodo would not be able to overpower him, let alone those waiting in the living room.

Standing in the doorway, Frodo blindly felt around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. He picked up a broom he had left in the corner and quickly lifted it aloft while gingerly stepping forward.

“Who are you?” Unfortunately this only came out as a weak croak, so Frodo repeated it, attempting to sound sterner.

“Who are you!?”

The other hobbit froze and was about to turn around when Frodo saw a poker leaning against the bricks of the hearth. He cried louder.

“Do not try to do anything! Keep your hands on your sides where I can see them.”

There was a sniffing sound and then, “It’s me, the Gaffer, young Mr. Frodo,” the voice came before the face was revealed. Frodo’s jaw slacked open.

“The Gaffer?” His face went pallid with confusion. “But how… why?”

The hobbit – who turned out to be Hamfast Gamgee – turned around, smiling.

“Mr. Bilbo ne’er told you, I suppose. He entrusted the key to the back door, Mr. Frodo, another one besides the one kept in the house.”

“Why?”

“I believe he meant me to guard this smial, young sir.”

Frodo was not satisfied yet. The idea that someone else had the key to his house made him feel uneasy, despite the fact that Hamfast had been Bilbo’s hand even before Frodo moved to Bag End.

“I see,” Frodo nodded stiffly. He lowered his raised hand. “I thought – I think that’s a good idea.”

Hamfast smiled gently. “Bilbo has always cared for you.”

Frodo felt his heart quiver, feeling both relieved and miserable. He had to sit down. “If he truly cared, he wouldn’t have left me alone,” Frodo mumbled. He looked up to meet Hamfast’s brown eyes – and they reminded him of Sam.

“Then who are the people whose voices I heard down there?” Frodo nodded to the direction of the front part of the house.

Hamfast laughed a little, whacking his brow.

“Ah! I’d have forgot if you hadn't said anything about them, Mr. Frodo. Come,” he started to the door after nudging Frodo on the elbow. “It’s a surprise for you.”

With questions shining in his eyes, Frodo tailed behind the Gamgee. A surprise? What kind of a surprise?

A gentle hobbit in his late fifties was sitting on the couch in the living room, talking with a hobbit lady of the same age. They both raised their heads as Hamfast and Frodo stepped into the room, their eyes glimmering with joy and love. Huh? Frodo was looking at them with complete bewilderment. He felt lost.

And before he got the chance to ask who they were, the hobbit lady had risen and embraced Frodo out of the blue.

“Here you are,” she said as she disentangled herself and grasped Frodo lovingly on his upper arms. “Ready for breakfast, my child?”

Frodo almost choked. His eyes widened. Child! He pulled back in alarm, practically shrugging off her hands. His face flushing, Frodo turned to Hamfast.

“What is it? Some kind of a jest?” There was anger in his strangled voice, but there was also a glint of grief. From the corner of his eyes, Frodo could see that the hobbit lady went pale, looking hurt. He did not care.

Hamfast remained calm.

“I’ll explain to you in a short moment, Mr. Frodo. But let us go to the study.” Sam’s father paced forward without waiting for Frodo’s reply. Once he looked over his shoulder, “A surprise indeed, eh, young sir?”

Feeling overwhelmed, Frodo could not utter a single word.

n the study, the miserable hobbit slammed himself into Bilbo’s seat while Hamfast was standing against the door. He looked closely at Frodo’s tired face. Dark circles were under the hobbit’s eyes. Hamfast could see that Frodo had not rested properly. The stream of relatives coming and going and the pained thoughts of being alone stood between him and sleep.

And now this.

Initially Hamfast had thought that his son's idea was brilliant but now he was having second thoughts.

“Please don’t get upset, Mr. Frodo. And don’t be mad at young, foolish Samwise--for this was all his suggestion.”

"Sam?" Frodo tilted his head up, getting even more curious.

“He knew Master Merry would depart soon, leaving you all by yourself in this big smial. He thought it would be a good idea to --”

Frodo suddenly could see where Hamfast was going.

“To find me a new family? Is that it? New parents– a mother and a father?” Frodo shrieked in horror. His face went red. His eyes were getting wet. “Send my gratitude for Sam's concern about my well being. But tell him that I’m an adult now and I might not need to be cared for anymore. Certainly not by complete strangers.”

Frodo’s face hardened and Hamfast, for some seconds, almost gave up hope.

“It’s not for good, Mr. Frodo. Only for a day and a night. Sam thought this would cheer you up.”

Frodo knew Sam never meant to hurt his feelings. The intention was never bad. Only the way it was done. Ah, Sam.

“Who are those people?” asked Frodo quietly after some time had passed.

Meanwhile, realization dawned on Hamfast and now he was feeling foolish.

“Mr. Frodo, now I think – I think it’s better for us all to leave. I can see now how absurd and insensitive we all must have seemed.” His voice was shaking. “Deepest apologies from us all, Mr. Frodo.” The old hobbit slowly backed away, opening the door. But Frodo stopped him.

“No, wait. I was asking you who those people are. I never said this was absurd or insensitive. In fact, I must thank all of you for being so thoughtful.”

Haltingly, Hamfast then told Frodo how he and his wife, Bell, went to the theater in Bywater to find people who could act as Frodo’s parents for a day. At first the actors and actresses there also found it strange. But when the Gamgees told them the whole story, they got intrigued and even asked Ham and Bell who they intended to play.

“You only want two of us to play Drogo and Primula, or you might want another to be Bilbo?” They had said. "What if we pretend that Frodo has a little brother or sister? We have our young actors too, you know.”

Frodo’s eyes grew wide again. But this time there was no sorrow there, only the inquisitiveness that he always had. A small smile even showed up on his face.

“A little brother or sister? I would love to have them. Did they come with their young actors, Hamfast?”

Relief washed over the Gaffer to see that his young master did not look upset anymore.

“No, I don’t think so. Bell and I thought it would be better to stick to the reality that you never had a brother or a sister.”

Stick to the reality that… Frodo felt his heart clench again. But he waved it away. Right now he was really interested in how those actors were going to pretend to be his parents. If their act was as good as the comments Frodo had often heard about them, he would not mind giving it a try. All of a sudden the idea of having another day with his long-gone parents sounded very tempting to Frodo.

Blinking away tears that suddenly sprang, Frodo rose from the chair.

“Let us go then, to meet my parents. I’m sure they can’t wait any longer to see me. They must have missed me so much.”

Finish