Strawberry Fields

By MysteriousWays

"You have the softest skin I have ever touched. It feels like rose petals," said Frodo as he let his fingers glide over Linwe’s upper arm. Frodo and Linwe lay on their sides, naked, facing each other, enjoying a lazy June morning in bed. Their wedding had just been three weeks before so spending extended amounts of time in bed was still a novelty to them. Sam and Rosie had gone away for a few days to visit the cottage where Frodo and Linwe had honeymooned. Frodo’s fingers moved from Linwe’s arm to caress her lips. The expression on his face was one of thoughtful contemplation. "And your lips make me think of plump berries. Strawberries in fact, the ones that Pippin’s grandparents grow. There aren’t strawberries anywhere as plump, juicy and tender as those. You know I used to sneak onto their farm and steal strawberries every summer."

"Yes, I know, Merry and Pippin have already told me. I hardly think it is something to brag about," Linwe said primly. Her prudish expression lost some of its effectiveness since she happened to be naked at the moment, looking as disheveled as the bed from a morning of love making.

"You don’t know how good those berries are," said Frodo dreamily.

"It would not matter if I did. You were hardly raised an impoverished hobbit. You could have gone up to their front door and asked them if you might buy some."

Frodo’s expression became aghast. "Buy berries? If any of my friends found out I was buying my berries in a respectable manner I would have become a laughing stock. I had a reputation to maintain you know."

"Oh really?" Linwe said with heavy sarcasm. Frodo found, Linwe’s prissy sarcasm together with her current state of appearance, that was anything but prissy, to be absolutely adorable.

"Yes I did, I was known over all of Buckland and most of the East Farthing as one of the best food thieves. On many occasions I was able to spend an entire day out roaming hill and dale eating like a king and without having to bring even the merest bread crust with me. And every year about this time I would go to the Bank’s strawberry fields to help myself to the best strawberries to grace Middle Earth."

Linwe rolled her eyes. "Frodo Baggins, you should be ashamed of your self. I can’t believe after that at your age you can still speak of it as though you were doing nothing wrong."

"Well of course I was doing wrong, that was the fun. But I never took so much as to cause anyone true harm."

Linwe propped her head up on her arm and started twitching at the sheet, covering herself, much to Frodo’s disappointment. "Frodo, stealing is wrong. Other people work hard to grow food and prepare it for the well being of their families, and then little vagrants like yourself go and steel the products of their hard work. That is just wrong."

"I never took anything that would not have been freely offered if I had come to the door to call as a respectable visitor." Frodo found that baiting Linwe was terribly entertaining.

"That does not matter. You were not offered therefore you can not take."

"Oh come now, Miss Linwe, I am sure you have stolen a time or two yourself," challenged Frodo.

"I assure you I never have. What a ridiculous thing to suggest."

"Very well, but I am certain you have been tempted. I can see you now. It’s an autumn market day and some old cottager hobbit is making those fried apple pies you like so much. You ask your mother for a penny to buy one with and she says no. So you stand near by looking and longing for one of those pies. The old lady is doing a brisk business. She has a little table next to her fry kettle and it is mounded up with piping hot pies. She turns her back to you to talk with a customer. You notice that no one is watching those pies, nor are they watching you. For a few minutes you are tempted to go snatch one of those succulent delights."

Linwe licked her lips for the image now in her mind. "Oh that is not fair!"

"No, my love, what isn’t fair is you taking this superior attitude with me," chastised Frodo with a smug smile.

"It is completely fair," Linwe said loftily, " I didn’t give into temptation and steal."

"But you wanted to," said Frodo with a knowing smile, "and I am willing to bet the only reason you didn’t is because you were too scared. How sad, I really thought you were braver than that."

"I am brave enough to steal," declared Linwe, "I choose not to because it is wrong."

"Prove it!"

"What?"

"I said prove it! Let’s ride over to the Bank’s farm today and get some strawberries without troubling anyone with needing to sell some to us, or some such nonsense."

"I couldn’t!"

"Only because your too scared," taunted Frodo

Linwe became exasperated and flung herself back against her pillows. "This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of. We are grown hobbits. Fifty-one years each respectively. We have no business riding all over the country side to steal the farm produce of other hobbits. Especially Pippin’s grandparents! It isn’t respectable, and I will not go."

Frodo quickly changed tactics. "Did I tell you that they are sometimes known as the perfect kissing berry?"

"What ever are you talking about?"

"The Banks strawberries. It’s a custom between lads and lasses. One takes a bite of strawberry and then the couple kisses. It makes for the most delightful kisses."

"And how would you know? I thought you never paid a bit of attention to lasses before I came along."

"Well, not for courting and such, no. But I enjoyed dancing and well I do seem to recall sharing a strawberry kiss with Impatien Banks. You know I think if I had asked for her hand that night she would have accepted. If that had happened I suppose I would be the father of fourteen now."

Linwe’s eyes narrowed "Humph, I don’t think I particularly want to hear about you and this Impatien Banks."

"Then you need to wipe her from my memory."

"Oh, and how am I supposed to do that?"

"It is simply done. We will ride to the Banks farm, steal a few quarts of Strawberries and have a little picnic. I am sure if you share one strawberry kiss with me I will not have another thought of Impatien Banks so long as I live."

"This is too unfair. You know I can’t say no to such a challenge."

"So does that mean we are going?

"I don’t see that I have any other choice," replied Linwe

Frodo beamed, "Very well, I will just get dressed and go get Strider ready for a little ride."

An hour later, Strider the pony was carrying his master and mistress over hill and fields. The pony would much have preferred to take a nice even road, but he hadn’t been consulted so he made do. The journey to the Banks Strawberry Farm took a little over an hour, going at a fair trot. Linwe was only pretending to go along with the stealing aspect of the outing. Secretly she had decided that she would be paying a call to the farm herself in the next couple of days, to properly pay for whatever she and Frodo took today.

"Well here we are," said Frodo as they had crested a hill, "Banks Strawberry Farm, where the finest strawberries known to Hobbits, Humans, Dwarfs or Elves, are grown.

Linwe looked over the farm from where she was perched on Strider Pony’s back, in front of Frodo. She saw three rather large fields, each about an acer in size. "My goodness, however do they tend to so many strawberries?"

"That, my dear, is part of the secret of the berries. No one in the banks family will tell what all it is they do, and there are some things that only the heir to the farm learns."

"I see, so how is it we are supposed to be stealing some of the strawberries?"

"That is easily done. That third field off by those trees and bordering the creek, can’t really be seen from the smial, and the view from the smial is rather limited. We will just ride back down the back of this hill and into the trees there along the creek to the field. No one from the house will see us. Though they would not likely be looking anyway. It is rather late in the season so most of the berries have been picked but there are always plenty of late ones to be had."

The sun rose higher in the sky moving from late morning to early afternoon. Linwe and Frodo went diligently about the task of gleaning the last of the season’s strawberries from their vines. Frodo turned out to be a strict task master when it came to stealing strawberries, "It is important that we get the picking done as quickly as possible so no eating the berries until we are done. Eating will only slow us down."

Linwe giggled, "Your serious, aren’t you?"

"Stealing is serious business, never forget that."

Within a couple of hours the two berry thieves had filled their pails. The day had grown quite warm so Frodo and Linwe drew back beneath the grove of trees, where they found a place covered with silky soft grass beneath an enormous old oak tree. There with the simple picnic Linwe had packed of bread, cheese, and apple cider, Frodo finally declared that they could sample their pilferage.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Linwe, "These really are the best Strawberries I have ever tasted!"

"Well worth the stealing, aren’t they?" asked Frodo with a smug grin.

"I would say worth paying for," answered Linwe, primly.

"Be that way if you must," resigned Frodo, "now there is another matter that must be tended to."

"What is that?" asked Linwe before biting slowly into another strawberry.

Frodo heart started to pound as he watched Linwe’s lips caress the flesh of the bright red flesh of the fruit. He swallowed, "Well, urm, there is the matter of sharing a strawberry kiss."

"Is that so?" said Linwe who much to Frodo’s delight was now blushing.

"Well, it is traditional. And it is important as adults we set an example for younger generations and uphold the important traditions."

Linwe’s eyes brightened with mischief, "I suppose that is true. I would not want to be accused of not seeing to my responsibilities."

"I rather thought you would see it that way," said Frodo.

"Very well then, kiss me!" said Linwe, she then took another bite of strawberry.

Frodo kissed Linwe. The sweetness of the berries combined with the warm tenderness of her lips was the most delectable thing he had ever tasted, and he craved more. He moved his body nearer to hers. Linwe lifted her arms up and slid them around his neck pulling him nearer still. Frodo knew the invitation for what it was and gently lowered Linwe back to lay upon the lush grass. His own breathing was fast and shallow, ragged with longing. Instinctively he tried to inhale deeply to relieve his lightheadedness. The scent of the late spring grass filled his senses. The fresh, pure scent combined with the taste of strawberries on Linwe’s lips flooded his mind with memories.

Memories of a rocky barren place where the air was filled with smoke and ash that burned his lungs. Frodo kissed Linwe more furiously, he clutched at her more desperately, trying to expel the memories of an all too recent past. Those hopeless memories did fade and were replaced by new ones. Memories of the same rocky wasteland, the air around him glowing orange as fire rained down from above. Memories that were both bitter and sweet. Memories that held only the feeblest light of hope.

Frodo was not aware of when he had taken his lips from Linwe’s. He was not aware that he lay on his side, in the soft green grass, sobbing. He was not aware of Linwe clutching onto him with all of her strength as she uttered words to try and comfort. For an untold amount of time all he was aware of was the taste of strawberries that still lingered in his mouth and the smell of grass.

The storm of tears subsided. Frodo opened his eyes to sunlight slanting down through green leaves and Linwe’s face above him. The lines of her face etched with worry. He reached up with one trembling hand, his maimed one, to gently caress her face. He tried to smile for her, in hopes of seeing the worry leave her face. She tried to smile back as large tears welled up in her eyes and fell onto his face. Linwe wiped his tears and hers from his face. Frodo took hold of her hand and turned to kiss the palm of it then pressed it to the side of his face. Now his smile was more sure and strong.

"I remembered," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remembered feeling I could not go on. I had not strength left to climb any further." He paused and swallowed as grief started to well up inside him again. "But Sam was there. He tried to help me find my way. He asked me to recall the taste of strawberries and the smell of grass. But I couldn’t, Linwe, I just couldn’t. I was in darkness, barely holding onto what little of myself that was left. Sam carried me then." Frodo closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "When it was all over. When the ring was at last gone, there Sam and I were back on the side of that mountain, holding onto one another as we had before, and suddenly I could remember." Frodo’s voice cracked and came more softly still. "I could remember the taste of strawberries and the smell of grass. I could remember and I was grateful for that. I knew I was going to die soon. In that moment I knew I would never look upon the Shire with my living eyes again, but I was grateful because I would die at least being able to remember the tastes, smells and sights.

"Deep in my heart I wished so much I could come back, but I had no hope of such a miracle happening. But it did. I have been overwhelmed that here it is, a year and three months since that day I lost all hope and yet here I am. I am alive, The Shire is all around me. I can smell the grass." Frodo reached up to touch Linwe’s lips, "I have tasted Strawberries again but in a way I never could have begun to dream of, on your lips."

Frodo closed his eyes as Linwe lay her hand against his. When he opened his eyes he was greeted by Linwe’s loving smile. Frodo saw when Linwe’s eyes shifted from his to look a little beyond him. He thought he caught a glimmer of fiery mischief in her gaze. He watched without wondering why as she reached beyond his sight of vision. When her hand returned to his view she saw it held a vibrant red strawberry. He watched as she took a slow sensuous bite then leaned then forward to press her lips to his.