Courtship

Marigold stood in the kitchen, drying dishes absently while she stared out the window into the back garden. She was humming quietly to herself as she worked, a small smile curling up the corners of her lips and a glow in her eyes. Sam, coming into the kitchen to fill the kettle for tea, looked out the window to see what she was staring at. He shook his head in amusement at the dismal, wintry evening. She had been like this for weeks now, all dreamy and distracted. Clearly something was going on in her head that she didn’t want to talk about. Ah well, he thought, lasses were strange creatures and there was no denying it. Still, he supposed, the world was a better place because of them. Certainly a tastier place, he concluded to himself as he popped a tart – made by his mum earlier that day – into his mouth. Definitely tastier. He reached for another, philosophical musings on the nature of lasses forgotten.

***

Rose Cotton couldn’t turn around for bumping into her brother, Tolman. "Tom Cotton," she finally exclaimed in frustration, "don’t you have work to do?"

"Just answer my question, Rosie," he wheedled, "and then I’ll get out of your way."

"No, I am not going into Hobbiton tomorrow." Why he needed to know this was a mystery to her. He’d never been all that interested in her movements before. "Da thinks it will still be raining tomorrow and Mum won’t let me go until my cough is completely gone." Rose was getting over a nasty cold which had kept her indoors for nearly two weeks now and her patience at being cooped up with her family was starting to wear thin.

A look of disappointment flitted across Tom’s face for an instant, before he schooled his features to indifference. "That’s a shame. I’m sure you must be missing your friends by now."

Ah, things were beginning to make a bit more sense now. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking of writing a note to Marigold." Rose managed to hide her amusement as Tom’s face pinked up ever so slightly at the mention of her good friend Mari. "I don’t suppose you would have time to run up to Bagshot Row and deliver it?"

Tom couldn’t suppress a relieved grin. "Aye, I suppose I could do you a favor, just this once mind, and deliver a note for you."

Rose smiled back. He was a nuisance sometimes, was Tom, but she loved him dearly anyway.

***

Bell Gamgee was up to her eyebrows in mending when there was a loud knock at the door. Frowning, she wondered who could be out on such a cold, dreary day. Putting the torn breeches she was currently working on back in her workbasket, she stood up, wincing momentarily at the ache in her hip. Limping slightly, she opened the door just as Marigold came down the hallway. Standing outside, she was surprised to see, was Tom Cotton, soaked to the skin and shivering, but grinning none-the-less.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Gamgee," he greeted her politely.

"Why, Tom, what a pleasant surprise to see you," she replied. "My goodness. You must be freezing. Get yourself inside this minute and take those wet things off." Surprised at his presence or not, she couldn’t let the lad stand on the doorstep till he turned into hobbit sized icicle.

She helped him off with his cloak and coat and ushered him into the parlor, where a cheery fire was dancing in the grate. Marigold appeared a moment later with a pile of towels, which she handed over with a barely suppressed twinkle in her eye.

"Now, Tom," Bell asked once the lad had dried his hair a bit and stopped shivering, "it must be something urgent to bring you out on a day like this."

"No, no...it isn’t anythin’ urgent-like." He looked a bit sheepish as he tried to explain. "I had to come into Hobbiton on errands for my Da, and Rosie asked me to stop off with a message for Marigold."

"Ah, I see," and indeed she did. "Well, you deliver your message to Mari while I go fix you something to drink. And you’ll be staying to tea so’s you can get good and warm before you head home."

"Yes’m," he agreed, most of his attention directed to Marigold, who was sitting demurely in a chair, face lit most distractingly by the warm glow of the fire. Therefore he missed the affectionate smile Bell bestowed on the pair of young ones before heading for the kitchen.

***

The heavy clouds had finally allowed themselves to be blown away by a chill, brisk wind. The pale winter sun had been shining weakly for several days now and the last of the puddles had disappeared. A grizzled old farmer, out repairing his fences, saw two hobbit lasses, well-bundled against the cold, amble down the lane next to his field and caught a snatch of their conversation.

"Can you believe it, Rosie? He finally asked me." The first lass was practically glowing and did a little skip as she spoke.

"I’m so happy for you, Mari," the second girl linked arms with the first and gave her friend a little squeeze. "And this means you’ll be coming out to live with us, doesn’t it? Mum’s already started cleaning the rooms for you."

The lasses had come to a halt and fell silent for a moment. Then, as if she could contain herself no longer, the first girl threw her hands up in the air and spun in a circle, laughing and shouting, "Tom Cotton asked me to marry him!"