The Shire.  Spring 1429 SR

Spring had arrived in all its glory and the Shire was alive with colour and activity. Birds were busy nest-building, squirrels chased each other up and down the trees, lambs frolicked in the fields and in the Party Field the mallorn tree was preparing to flower in a few days, warmed by the first real heat of the Spring sun. The snowdrops had been and gone, followed by the crocuses, and now the daffodils were glowing in the gardens and along the hedgerows, dancing in the breeze, with the tulips and wallflowers adding splashes of red and orange.

       In the orchard at Bag End, Sam Gamgee was whistling cheerfully as he worked. He was as happy as it was possible to be: the winter had not been cruel and they had all come through with nothing more than the odd cold. In February, during a blizzard, Rose had given birth to another little lad, a happy, strong baby called Pippin, who was taking his mother's milk with the enthusiasm only a hobbit baby could display. Then there had been Elanor's birthday on the twenty-fifth of March. Most importantly, Frodo had passed the March anniversary with no pain or sickness, and the preparations for the trip to Gondor were now well underway. He could hear laughter and chatter from the garden, where Frodo and the children were hanging out the washing. Rosie-lass was squealing and giggling, a sound so infectious that Sam laughed too.

       He was readying the ground for some new plum trees in a corner of the orchard which had always seemed under-used and bare. The young trees were thriving and would soon be outgrowing their pots. Sam needed to dig up the grass, break the compacted soil and dig in large amounts of compost and manure before he planted his tender trees. It was work he enjoyed and took a pride in, particularly with his family well and growing. What more could any hobbit want? He thrust the spade into the hard soil, pressed it down with his foot and turned it over. He had established a satisfying rhythm while digging and was confident he would soon have the job done.

       Another thrust of the spade, another push with his foot. An odd clonking noise halted Sam's reverie and he looked down. He wiggled the spade, wondering how such a large stone had found its way into the orchard. There was another clonk. Tutting under his breath, Sam crouched down and scraped at the soil with a trowel and then with his hands until he uncovered the object.

       "Oh no!" His mouth formed an O of shock. He sat there for a moment, his thoughts whirling, knowing he would have to tell Frodo and unsure of the effect the news would have.

       The children had scampered back indoors and Frodo was standing looking over the wall at his beloved Shire, gazing down on the Party Field and beyond, to Bywater in the south. From Bag End he could just see the Water as it wound its way from the Northfarthing into the Bywater Pool before continuing on until it emptied into the Brandywine just north of the Bridge of Stonebows.

       "Frodo?" Sam began tentatively. Frodo turned and smiled, but faltered when he saw Sam's expression and the way he was twisting his fingers together, as he did when troubled.

       "Sam? What is it? What's the matter?" He hastened to his friend's side.

       "I don't rightly know how to tell you..........I don't want to tell you - you know I can't stand to see you upset-but I can't keep it to meself and pretend I don't know when I do................."

       "Just tell me, Sam. Whatever it is, I'm strong enough these days."

       "Well .............no other way but to say it quick and have done with it. I've.......just found out what that Grima did with poor Mr. Lotho." He watched Frodo clap his hand to his mouth, then close his eyes for a moment.

       "Oh Elbereth! I've often wondered just where............. We could hardly dig up every inch of ground but it has always troubled me to think he was around somewhere.........."

       "You don't have to look.........."

       "Yes, I do, Sam," Frodo said firmly. He tucked his arm through Sam's and began walking towards the orchard. "He was my cousin, and a Baggins. I owe it to his mother, and to Bilbo. It can't be any worse than some other things we saw on the journey." He marched stalwartly round to where Sam had been digging, then halted. "Is...........is it very horrible? Like Saruman after he died?" Sam shook his head.

       "No, just bones I think."

       Frodo peered over the edge of the hole and then knelt to look properly. The skull was the only part exposed but it was clean and not too terrible. The skeleton appeared to be lying on its side. He scraped away more of the soil to reveal the shoulders and upper ribs.

       "What shall we do?" Sam asked, kneeling beside his master and helping to clear away the dirt.

       "We need to make absolutely sure it is Lotho - if we can. I'm sure it must be because no-one else vanished without trace in the Shire except Bilbo, and we know where he is. I just want to satisfy myself if I can."

       A few minutes' hard work exposed the whole of the upper body, including the hands which were tucked up against the chest. Frodo caught a glimpse of something.

       "Look! That's the Sackville-Baggins signet ring. Otho had it made when he and Lobelia were married. Well, I guess that is proof enough." He stood, brushing soil from his trousers. "I should notify the Shirriffs - and the Thain. Merry and Pip are at Great Smials at the moment so I daresay they'll come over to represent their fathers." He patted Sam. "At least we don't have to notify the Mayor, do we?"

       In the house, they explained to Rose what had happened, taking care to say nothing when the children were about. Frodo went into the study and wrote some short notes, then walked down to the messenger post and gave the lad a gold coin with the instruction to deliver the notes as quickly as possible. With a salute, the hobbit was on his pony and galloping for the Shirriff's house, and would then go on to Tuckborough. Frodo smiled. Aragorn was right - money talked, and that gold coin had been very eloquent indeed.

                                                                                ************

       At Great Smials, Paladin Took was working in his study when a servant entered and announced the arrival of a messenger. Ordinary letters were delivered at the door but Quick Post, as it was known, had to be delivered to the person to whom it was addressed. Paladin blinked, and wondered who in Middle-earth was sending him urgent missives. Quick post was usually reserved for very good or very bad news. He waved the hobbit in with his usual brisk good humour.

       "Come in, lad, come in. What's all this then?"

       "I was told to give this to you personally, sir." He bowed.

       "Really? And who told you that?" Paladin twinkled. Despite his exalted status he was a Took, and had his son's impish sense of humour.

       "Mr Frodo Baggins of Hobbiton, sir. Very particular he was too."

       "Was he now? Thank you, lad. Get yourself to the kitchen and ask for a slab of cake and a glass of raspberry cordial, and tell them I sent you." The hobbit bowed again and backed out.

       Paladin opened the letter and scanned the contents. He sucked in his cheeks and sat thoughtfully puffing his pipe for a few moments before ringing the bell for a servant.

       "Find that son of mine, and his cousin, and send them to me as soon as you can."

       A few minutes later Merry and Pippin tumbled in, bantering as usual. Paladin tossed the note across to Pippin, and Merry read it over his shoulder.

                                                                                           Bag End

                                                                                          Hobbiton

                                                                                          Meresday

       Dear Paladin,      

       I hope you are keeping well and not suffering too much from that bout of rheumatism.

       I am sorry to burden you with this, but as the senior Shire authority you need to know. We made a rather shocking discovery at Bag End this morning. Sam was digging in the orchard and uncovered the remains of my unfortunate cousin Lotho. I have informed the Shirriff and feel it only proper to notify you and Saradoc also.

       I am not expecting you to drop everything and traipse over to Hobbiton but perhaps Pip and Merry would be willing to come as your representatives?

       Your affectionate cousin,

       Frodo

        "Well that's a turn-up! After all this time."

       "Poor Fro. I wish he had not had to face that. He's such a sensitive soul, Elbereth bless him." Merry looked concerned. Pippin glanced at him, shocked.

       "You don't think it will make him ill again, do you?"

       "I hope not. He hasn't had any trouble since that dreadful illness, but it would be awful if this pitched him back again. If this discovery had been made two years ago I shudder to think what effect it might have had. We should leave at once. Is that alright with you, Uncle Paladin?"

       "Yes, of course. That is what I hoped you'd do. Give Frodo our love. This must be quite a horrid shock for him."

      The two hugged Paladin and darted out to pack a few items of clothing - they were too tall to borrow from Frodo or Sam - and saddle their ponies. Within half an hour they were speeding in the direction of Bywater.

                                                                                 ************

       When the Captains arrived at Bag End they found Robin Smallburrow deep in conversation with Frodo and Sam in the parlour, all three of them consuming afternoon tea. The lure of Rose Gamgee's jam tarts had been too much for Robin. Frodo greeted his cousins cheerfully enough and Merry was relieved that he looked well and had an appetite. They talked for a while and then the Shirriff decided it was time he was on his way. Once he had gone, the others went out to the orchard to look at the body.

       Sam had covered the grave with sacking which he had weighted down with stones. He pulled the covering aside and they all stared at the bones, now completely exposed. Lotho had clearly been tipped into the hole on his side, curled over and with his knees drawn up.

       "I hope his death was as quick as Saruman suggested," Frodo murmured. "I never really believed that other remark of his, and it looks as though he was buried soon after death."

       Pippin opened his mouth but closed it again when Merry nudged him sharply in the ribs. They both remembered Saruman's remark about Wormtongue being very hungry.

       "What are you planning to do with him, Fro?" Merry asked, his hand resting on his cousin's shoulder.

       "Even Lotho deserves a decent burial. He was foolish and greedy and his actions endangered the Shire, but he should not lie here forever, in a hole dug by his murderer. However, I doubt the people of Hobbiton would be in favour of his burial in the graveyard here, so I have written to the Bracegirdles to ask if he can be buried in Hardbottle, next to his parents."

      "That's a good idea. I think Lobelia would have approved." Pippin helped Sam to draw the sacking back in place and secure it.

      "Tomorrow I suggest we remove the bones very carefully and wash them, then take them to the shed. Sam has cleared the table in there for the purpose. I've already spoken to Jem Tunnelly about a coffin."

       "I would have spared you this nightmare, Fro," Merry said softly.

       "No, Merry, don't say that. One of my worst recurring nightmares in the last ten years, waking or sleeping, has been of getting up in the night and coming face to face with Lotho in the dark passageways of Bag End, pointing at me accusingly for not finding his body. I always saw him as a rotting horror, flesh falling off, his breath cold and dank like a charnel pit.......... These poor bones are nothing in comparison, and lifting them will help to lay the ghost. He died in my house, Merry, and that has always troubled me. Do not deny me the chance to make amends." Frodo's voice shook with emotion.

       "Dearest Fro, you know I would deny you nothing. I'm sorry.......I didn't think.......I only said it because we love you and hate to see you upset........." Merry's eyes clouded and Frodo turned and hugged him.

       "I know that, Merry my lad. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so tetchy. I'm just relieved to be able to do something to put the past to rights. He coveted this place for so long, and it cost him his life. Besides, I owe it to Lobelia."

       When they were settled round the kitchen table, Pippin rocking his small namesake gently in his arms, Frodo explained.

       "Do you know why I'm so rich?" he asked the others. His cousins shook their heads.

       "None of our business, Fro dear. Bilbo left you a good deal of money I imagine."

       "Yes he did, but not enough for me to re-build New Row and buy and restore Hobbiton Mill. That took huge amounts of money, and I did it thanks to Lobelia. She gave me the deeds to the Sackville-Baggins leaf plantations in the Southfarthing - said they were Baggins property originally anyway, and as Bilbo was the son of Longo's older brother the deeds should come to me as his heir. We found them in the desk here in the study, and she gave them to me before she returned to Hardbottle, after speaking to Will Whitfoot and setting everything down legally. She knew Lotho had a lot of debts which had to be settled, and that many repairs had to be made to undo all the harm. You are looking at a pipeweed baron, my dear Merry!"

       "Elves and dragons! Who'd have guessed our Fro was a businessman!" Pippin laughed. "But how? You don't disappear off to the Southfarthing every few weeks."

       "The Hornblower family manage them for me. We export to Bree, Gondor, even Rohan now some of the men there are taking up the art of smoking, but my principal buyers are the dwarves of Erebor and the men of Dale. They buy barrels of the stuff!" He sounded very amused. "Well, well! It seems I can still surprise my nosey and conspiratorial cousins. You're both doing a fair impersonation of stranded trout!"

       "Surely Sam knew?" said Merry. "He isn't surprised by this revelation."

       "I'm surprised they came from Mistress Lobelia. I knew Frodo owned some leaf plantations but I thought it was an investment of Mr.Bilbo's."

       "Fancy her giving them to you, after all that animosity between you," said Pip. "Mind you, she seemed completely different when you brought her out of the Lockholes. She left you money when she died, to help those made homeless by the troubles."

       "Poor old thing, she was utterly crushed when I broke the news of Lotho's murder. She poured all the love she had into him, and when she learned he had gone part of her died too. I knew she would not long outlive him, and I think she knew it too. I felt so sorry for her."

       Merry shook his head. "You never cease to amaze me, Fro. You have forgiven Saruman, Gollum, Lotho and Lobelia. Do you never hate anyone?"

       "Hate would only destroy me. The others are all dead, and what good does it do to hate the dead? Gandalf said that if I was to heal, I had to let go of the horrors of the past, and that includes the hatred. To step back into the light, I had to leave all such things behind. I don't presume to forgive them for what they did to others, but I do so for my own injuries."

       "Surely you won't deliver a eulogy at the funeral? Even you couldn't find that many good things to say about Lotho." Merry threw his arm round Frodo's shoulders.

       "No, I doubt there will be a eulogy. I shall think of something though."

       Rose peeped round the door. "I can't hold these children back any longer."

       "Nor should you. Let them in!" Frodo cried, and the four were almost flattened as four eager children rushed in demanding attention.

                                                                                 ************

       Following a substantial breakfast, the four walked out to the orchard at the beginning of another beautiful day. Rosie took the children to the Cotton's farm for the day to keep them out of the way, much to the irritation of Ellie and young Fro. They knew something was going on and were beside themselves with curiosity, so it was thought wise to distract them with a visit to see the new lambs. They set off, the children running ahead and calling happily to their father and uncles as they disappeared round the corner of the lane. Rose followed, holding Merry-lad's hand and baby Pip comfortably tucked in the shawl which was tied around her.

       Sam spread an old sheet on the ground and Frodo carried a large bowl of warm water. It was decided that Merry and Sam would lift the bones and Frodo and Pip would wash them.

       "You don't have to do this, Fro. It can't be easy for you......" Merry sat by the hole and rolled up his sleeves.

       "Stop trying to mollycoddle me, you dear old fathead! I want to do this - I told you, I owe it to Bilbo and Lobelia." Frodo also rolled up his shirtsleeves and the others followed suit. "Be very careful with the finger and toe bones. They're rather small and easily lost, I imagine."

       They worked quietly. It seemed wrong to talk and laugh so they went about their tasks methodically but largely in companionable silence which was broken only by Merry or Sam stating which bone was which as they handed each one over. Gradually all the bones were washed clean of soil and placed on the sheet to dry, in their proper places. When the last one was lifted and drying in the sun, they went inside, washed their hands thoroughly, and sat at the table for ale and sandwiches. There seemed to be a general relief and the feeling of a job well done.

       Later, after lunch, they each took a corner of the sheet and carried it carefully to the shed, where they arranged it on the table and covered it with another sheet. It was a pathetic sight, and very sobering to think of 'the Chief' reduced to such a small collection of bones. Sam placed a little bunch of wallflowers on the top and they locked the shed door carefully before returning to the smial.

       "I am so glad that's over!" Frodo murmured, flopping onto the couch. "Now we just have to wait for Jem to deliver the coffin and then we can arrange them properly."

       "I suppose we should cancel my birthday party," said Sam, entering with a loaded tray. Frodo looked up, genuinely astonished.

      "My dear Sam, if you think we are cancelling the birthday of my dearest friend then you can think again! Lotho has been dead for ten years and we are giving him a proper funeral, but I will not have your party ruined and the children disappointed." Frodo poured tea for everyone. "We shall celebrate your birthday and give the Shire a day to remember!"

                                                                                 ************

       6th April 1429 SR

       Frodo slipped his arm through Sam's as they made their way down to the Party Field.

       "Look at the mallorn! It blooms for you, Sam."

       "I reckon it would bloom anyway around this time." Sam shrugged, ever the practical hobbit.

       "Rubbish! It blooms for your birthday, you ass!" Frodo chuckled. "So it should - you grew it, you healed the Shire, it's your tree." He looked into Sam's hazel eyes. "What is bothering you?"

       "There'll be people here today who won't like what you're doing for Mr.Lotho. They'll be queuing to complain." Frodo blew a raspberry and began unpacking the baskets.

       "Let them! I've never listened to gossip or paid attention to the opinions of others." He arranged a mountain of pies on a plate and stood back to view the effect.

       "I won't have them upsetting you....." Sam said, stepping aside as Frodo skipped round him to view the table from another angle. His master paused, abandoned his table arrangements, walked to Sam and hugged him.

       "Nothing can upset me. It is your birthday and I'm here to celebrate it with you. I'm not sitting wistfully watching the sea on Tol Eressa and I'm not lying in a grave in the burial ground. If anyone has anything to say about Lotho having a proper burial then they can say it to my face and I will tell them why I'm doing it, but they won't upset me by doing so. This is going to be a splendid day. Now stop fussing, you old worry-wart, and get those plates out!"

       Some people did grumble, but Frodo answered them graciously and explained why he felt it was the right thing. He admitted that Lotho had brought Sharkey and his men into the Shire and that he had been very foolish and greedy but he had paid a heavy price. One unexpected supporter was Mrs.Bracegirdle, who swept to his defence like a Corsair ship in full sail.

       "I'm sure Mr Baggins is a proper gentlehobbit and is acting out of respect for my husband's cousin, dear Lobelia! It is not for anyone to question Mr.Baggins' motives and actions in this matter. He is simply showing good breeding and a great deal of compassion." She beamed at Frodo, who gave her a rather wan smile and scuttled back to the safety of the table and his friends and family.

       "She's looking at me again!" he hissed. "She has that hungry look - as though I'm a very fine mushroom pie!"  Pippin opened his mouth to make a rude remark. "And don't you dare say what I think you're about to, Pippin Took!" Merry sniggered.

       "I was only going to say she'd like to............," Pip began. Frodo held up a hand.

       "I know exactly what you were going to say, and I'd rather not think about it!" he said firmly.

       Rose twinkled. "Poor Hyacinth. She really likes you, you know."

       "Hmmmm. I'd noticed." Frodo lifted his tankard. "Happy birthday, Sam!"

       Everyone echoed the sentiment and drank to the Mayor's health. Then the dancing began.

       Ellie begged Frodo for a dance and he took her into the middle of the field and twirled her round. Sam and Rose watched with tears in their eyes as their beautiful little daughter smiled up at her adored and adoring uncle. Frodo was laughing, his cheeks glowing with health and vitality, those blue eyes sparkling with the joy of living. All the dark days and the terror that they would lose him, the weeks of nursing, the sleepless nights, all were now rewarded.

       After Ellie, Rosie-lass took her turn, followed by Rose herself. Frodo was a graceful dancer and she found herself carried through the throng with her feet barely touching the ground.

       "Mrs Bracegirdle is looking daggers! Reckon she's jealous of me," she giggled as they turned.

       "Don't tell me I'm going to have to dance with her!" Frodo groaned. "She'll crush me!"

       It was a tired but happy little group of hobbits who trailed up the hill that evening. Baby Pip slumbered in Frodo's arms, Pippin carried Rosie-lass 'flying hobbit' style and Merry-lad likewise was being carried on his namefather's shoulders. This gave them a delightful height advantage over their parents and uncle.

                                                                                 ************

       8th April, 1429 SR

       Frodo stepped out of the round green door of Bag End and breathed in the soft Spring air with gusto. He was very beautifully and carefully dressed, in black velvet trousers, a white silk waistcoat with silver embroidery, and a midnight blue jacket with silver buttons. A fine white handkerchief peeped out of his top pocket and he had gone to the trouble to find a set of silver cufflinks, a gift from Bilbo on one of their joint birthdays.

       Merry and Sam brought the cart down from the stables, with Bill and Strider both hitched to it. They had been brushed and their manes and tails plaited with black ribbon. Sam spread a large piece of black material on the back of the cart and they all went to the shed, shouldered the polished elm coffin, and carried it out of the gate. Lotho Sackville-Baggins was leaving Bag End for the last time.

       Sam placed a huge bouquet of daffodils, tulips and wallflowers on the coffin and then climbed up, leaning down to help Frodo up beside him, while Merry and Pip stowed the packs away and seated themselves in the back. With a wave to Rosie they were off in the direction of Hardbottle.

      Despite the sadness of their destination, it was impossible to be downhearted on such a beautiful day. The air had a warm sweetness only found in Spring, the fragrance of stirring life, new growth, the rising sap in the trees. It was as heady as fine wine. The first tender shoots were appearing on many of the trees, a fresh pale green both dleicate and rare. Later the leaves darkened and were never quite the same. Meadow flowers were popping up in the fields and hedgerows and the gardens were alight with colour. In the woods and shady areas primroses were smothering the ground like mounds of rich clotted cream and drifts of early bluebells trailed off between the trees. A pair of magpies barrelled past, chattering at each other, and squirrels squabbled amiably in the trees. On the edge of the wood a small herd of deer were eating the new green shoots and surveying the world through the intertwined branches.

       The plan was to travel to Hardbottle, deep in the Southfarthing, where they would arrive in mid-afternoon. The funeral would take place and after a short gathering they would find an inn and stay for the night before journeying home the next day.

       On the outskirts of Hardbottle they were met by a group of Bracegirdles and other village worthies, and escorted to the burial ground. Frodo had not been there since Lobelia's funeral nine years before, when he had stood in the rain, shivering and feverish with a hacking cough and the beginnings of anniversary troubles. He was surprised to find that it was quite a pretty place, on a slope and shaded by beautiful silver birch trees.

       Everyone looked to Frodo. None of the Bracegirdles had prepared a speech for the occasion. He thought for a moment. To praise Lotho or lie about his good qualities would be hypocritical.

       "My cousin Lotho was no doubt at fault in what he did, in allowing the ruffians into the Shire. Sadly he was naive and did not realise what would follow, yet I think he was no more at fault in this than any of us might have been. We had had no dealings with Big People and knew little of their ways, not did we know much of the evils of the world outside. It is all too easy to imagine his horror when he realised what was happening in his name, particularly when his own mother was imprisoned. Whatever else we might think of him, Lotho was very fond of his mother. I regret his fear and what must have been the misery of his last days, and his death was horrible. It is only right that he should have a proper burial, and I wish him peace. May he find rest and healing for the spirit in the world beyond." He threw a handful of earth on the coffin as it disappeared, and those present bowed their heads.

       "That was very nicely done, Mr.Baggins," murmured one of the Bracegirdles. Frodo smiled his thanks and followed his hosts to a large smial on the other side of the hill.

       "Is there a bun scramble?" Pippin hissed in Merry's ear.

       "How do I know? I suppose so - they're hobbits after all."

       "Bun scramble?" Sam repeated to himself. "What is a bun scramble?"

       Frodo chuckled as he slowed and joined his friend. "It was Bilbo's expression for the funeral tea. He always called it a bun scramble and over the years it just stuck."

                                                                                  ************

       There was a bun scramble of sorts, although Pip sniffed a bit and muttered about parsimonious Bracegirdles while gloomily inspecting the sandwiches for filling. They circulated dutifully for an hour or so before departing with friendly handshakes all round. Once escorted back to the cart, they said their final farewells and set off.

       "I'm starving! Did you see those sandwiches?" Pip demanded.

       "What sandwiches? They didn't have many, did they?" Merry said sympathetically.

       "I admit it was a bit........um......sparse," Frodo agreed.

       "Sparse? My slice of seed cake was so thin I could see the plate through it! I thought it was a doily."

       "Reckon they waved the potted meat over the bread - most of those sandwishes didn't seem to have any filling. Not what my Rose would call a sandwich."

       "Well, I suppose the Bracegirdles are known to be a bit..............."

       "Stingy?" retorted Pip. "My dear Fro, the word you're looking for is 'stingy'!"

       "I think we should find an inn and have something to eat," said Frodo decisively, to cheers from the others.

       "They have funny names for inns round here though," Pippin warned. "We're on the edge of Shire civilization, you know. It'll be called 'The 'Slug and Lettuce' or 'The Waddling Hedgehog' or something like that. 'The Drunken Weasel' or 'The Farting Goat'..........."

       Frodo spun round in his seat. "'The Farting Goat'? I refuse to believe there is an inn anywhere called 'The Farting Goat'!!!" He exploded with laughter.

       "He said the word, Pip!"

       "He did!" Pip squealed. "He actually said 'fart' without blushing!"

       Frodo rolled his eyes and grinned at Sam, who was struggling not to laugh. "I'm not sure Minto and the rest of the Hornblowers would like to hear you saying they live on the edge of civilization, and insulting their inns."

       "Well, if not 'The Farting Goat' then there's probably a 'Frog and Nightgown' like they have in Nobottle. I mean, frogs don't wear nightgowns."

       "It's 'The Frog AND Nightgown', not 'The Frog IN a Nightgown'," Frodo pointed out reasonably.

       "Picky! I still say it's an odd combination," Pippin insisted.

       "Pip, you're an ass!"

       "Ee-aww, ee-aww!" said Pip cheerfully.

       Merry looked around. "I'm sure I remember an inn round here when we came to read Aragorn's letter. The landlord brews his own ale and we had a very decent lunch."

       Pip nodded. "I remember."

       "Nonsense! You were so drunk by the time we left you won't remember anything."

       Sam nodded over to the right. "This looks like it - 'The Black Bull'......doesn't sound so bad."

       The inn was a good size and looked very attractive, with pots of yellow daffodils and white narcissii each side of the main entrance. There were stables to the side and as they halted the ostler emerged and saluted respectfully.

       "Afternoon, sirs. Shall I unhitch the ponies?" Merry nodded.

       "Thank you. The inn does serve food, doesn't it?"

       "Aye, sir. Just go straight in." He began forking hay into the rack and the two ponies tucked in at once. They might not have been hobbit ponies by birth but they had lived with hobbits for long enough to pick up many of their ways.

       Merry and Pip led the way inside, where a jolly looking hobbit was polishing tankards behind the bar. He smiled when he saw his guests.

       "Why, it's the Captains! And the Mayor! Welcome, gentlemen." Sam fumed silently that he had ignored Frodo, but Merry spoke at once.

       "Thank you. This is my cousin, Frodo Baggins." The landlord started at the name.

       "Mr. Baggins? This is an honour, sir. Forgive me for not seeing you straight away. The gentlemen here are so much taller and you were standing behind the Mayor. I'm very pleased to meet you at last. Allow me to shake your hand. You'll be here for the funeral in Hardbottle?" Frodo nodded, and shook the landlord's hand. "A sad business. Master Lotho used to sometimes drink here with a couple of his friends - back in the old days that was, afore those Men came into the Shire."

       "At least we have given him a proper funeral at last. His mother would have wanted that."

       "Would you like the back parlour, gentlemen?" He led them through to a pleasant room, with a small fire in the grate and brass jugs full of flowers on the mantlepiece. "What can I get you, sirs?"

       "Four mugs of your best ale - which is excellent, I seem to remember," said Merry. "What food do you have?"

       "We do a good ploughman's lunch, or we have a very fine steak and kidney pie, cooked by my wife. There's treacle pudding to follow too."

       "Treacle pudding..............," Pippin and Frodo repeated dreamily, eyes glazing at the thought.

       Merry laughed. "It looks like pie and treacle pudding for all of us. Do you have any rooms available for the night?"

       "Yes, sir, we have two nice rooms free, if you gentlemen don't mind doubling up?"

       "That will be fine," said Merry as the others nodded their assent. "Our bags are in the cart."

       "I'll see they're brought in right away."

       Within minutes the four were happily supping fine ale and awaiting the arrival of the pie. The lad brought in cutlery and plates and he was quickly followed by a buxom hobbit woman with rosy cheeks, carrying a huge pie dish.

       "As soon as I heard it was the Captains I thought I'd better bring a whole pie. I remember your last visit, gentlemen. What appetites!" She set the pie down in the centre of the table and they all regarded it with longing. "I put mushrooms in my pies." Frodo rubbed his hands in anticipation.

       "My wife does, too," said Sam. "It looks superb."

       The landlord brought in two enormous tureens of potatoes and carrots and then they were left to tuck in.

       For some time little was heard in the inn's parlour, save for appreciative murmurs and the clink of cutlery, as four very hungry hobbits consumed their dinner. When they finally sat back and gazed at the last small slice of pie, Pip voiced their thoughts.

       "Shame to leave that tiny bit." Four forks made short work of the remaining slice.

       "I think we'll wait a while before tackling treacle pudding. I want to do it justice," said Frodo, loosening his belt and patting his stomach.

       Merry nodded and went to fetch more ale. The landlord chuckled as he cleared the table, and the others could hear the landlady giggling as Merry proceeded to use the Brandybuck charm while complimenting her on her cooking..

       "So........," said Merry, when he returned with the drinks, ".............you managed to say everything and nothing when you were speaking about Lotho. You managed to say all the right things when we know you couldn't stand him."

       Frodo scratched his chin thoughtfully. "We hated each other, I'm afraid. I wish I could say we were the best of friends but we weren't. My earliest memory is of toddling round the Party Field and being knocked flying by Lotho. He was always doing things like that but he was clever enough never to let his mother see him."

       "She would never believe anything bad about her precious Lotho. Even when she did try and reprimand him, he was rude and answered back. He was never the slightest bit afraid of her."

       Frodo smiled. "There were two he was afraid of - Bilbo for one. He knew he couldn't get away with things when Bilbo was around, particularly bullying me."

       "Who was the other one?" Pippin asked. Frodo's smile widened.

       "Aunt Dora."

       "Even the Balrog would have been afraid of your Aunt Dora!" Pip cried. "I only met her a few times and she scared me. Orcs and trolls would have run screaming from her!" He started giggling. "She would have frightened Sauron himself - probably poked him in the eye with her umbrella!" He stopped abruptly as Merry kicked him under the table.

       At one time any mention of the Dark Lord wold have resulted in a chilly silence from Frodo, who always withdrew into himself at the name. No-one had spoken it in his hearing for a long time and Merry was terrified that he would look up to see his cousin's face deathly pale and full of self-loathing. To his intense relief he saw that Frodo was not only looking cheerful, he was laughing.

       "Pipin Took! You are the most outrageous hobbit I have ever known!" His face softened at Pip's distress.. "Oh Pip, don't worry. I'm fine now, really. Did Merry kick you?" Pip nodded, his green eyes scanning Frodo's face to see if he really was unaffected by the thoughtless remark. "You're right, Aunt Dora was formidable, particularly with that umbrella."

       "She and Mistress Lobelia hated each other, I remember," said Sam. "They would bristle at each other like a couple of angry cats if they met."

       "Umbrellas at fifty paces!" said Pip. "I wish I could have seen a confrontation between them."

       "They had one at Brandy Hall when they came for my parents' funeral. There was bad blood between them because the previous summer Lotho had gone scrumping pears in Aunt Dora's garden. She caught him and shouted, he slipped and was hanging onto a branch for dear life and she went out and started beating him with her umbrella. He had to let go and fell in the compost heap. I was watching from behind the wall and when he rose covered in cabbage leaves and all sorts I nearly choked trying not to laugh out loud. Lobelia was furious and had been after Dora over it. When they met at Brandy Hall it nearly was a duel to the death. Aunt Gilda told Lobelia very firmly that she would not tolerate any bad behaviour and I think she must have put the fear of something into her because she was as quiet as a mouse for the rest of the week." Frodo paused as the treacle pudding was carried in.

       Pip took a mouthful of pudding and then almost jumped out of his seat. "It's hot, it's hot!!!" he yelled.

       Merry regarded him with amused tolerance. "Steamed treacle pudding generally is hot, Pip. You shouldn't be so greedy. "

       "Thank you for the sympathy!" Pip retorted, gulping ale. "It burned my tongue."

       Frodo blew carefully on his full spoon. "More haste, less speed, Pip."

      The landlord laughed and went round lighting lamps. It was growing dark and there was a slight chill in the air. He threw more logs on the fire and went back to the bar to answer the impatient calls of his thirsty customers. 

        "Didn't my grandmother take Lotho aside and threaten him if he laid a finger on you?"

       "Yes. Aunt Gilda loathed the Sackville-Bagginses and Lotho most of all. I never found out what she threatened him with but it certainly worked"

       "My brothers hated him too, especially when they caught him picking on you," said Sam, licking his spoon.

       Frodo grinned. "They were wonderful - kept an eye out for him and looked after me. They gave him a pounding or two, and they fought Ted Sandyman too. They taught me to fight because I was being bullied at Brandy Hall as well. I went back and put my new knowledge to use. I gave some of the cousins a thumping and it all settled down."

       "I wish I'd been there - I'd have beaten anyone to a pulp if they dared upset you," Merry declared firmly. "I could be really angry just thinking about it."

       "Dear Merry-lad, you were always trying to protect me, even when you were tiny. You used to blow raspberries when Lotho's name was mentioned, even as a little baby." Frodo started giggling. A memory had popped into his mind from his childhood.

       "What's funny?" Pip demanded.

       "I suddenly remembered something. After my parents died I came back to stay with Bilbo for a while. That was when I met Sam and I used to spend most of my time at No.3, playing with him, helping dear Bell and I played with Ham and Halfred a lot too. I always remember those first few weeks. Gandalf came to stay - oh, I was so excited when I met him! He looked huge but he was very kind in that gruff way of his. One day I was down at No.3 as usual, playing outside with Ham and Halfred, when Lotho came sneaking up the lane. He was afraid of Gandalf because his mother had warned him, so he was already wary. Suddenly Ham picked up the huge frog we'd been watching, and said, 'Ted! Speak to me, lad! You really shouldn't have said things like that to Mr.Frodo, not with a wizard nearby!' I was trying so hard not to laugh I got a stomach ache! Lotho looked wide-eyed and said in a quavering voice, 'That's Ted? He's been turned into a......frog?!'"

       Merry, Pip and Sam were howling with laughter. "That is priceless! Oh my goodness! Wish I'd been there."

       "There's more! I managed to pull myself together and then said, 'I didn't tell him to do that to you, Ted! I'll go and ask him to change you back, really I will!' Lotho looked at the frog and then ran screaming back to Hobbiton to find his mother! Didn't see him for two weeks!"

       Sam wiped his eyes. "Never heard that one! I'd love to have seen poor old Pimple's face!"

       "Why did Aunt Gilda hate the Sackville-Bagginses? I mean no-one liked them but I gather she had a real loathing." Pippin was curious.

       Anguish flickered briefly across Frodo's face. "Because Lobelia spread a rumour that I was not Drogo Baggins' son," Frodo replied. Pippin gaped at him.

       "You're joking? She said that? The old bag!"

       Merry and Sam were equally outraged. "Not Mr Drogo's son?! She dared to even think such a thing?!"

       "I agree with Pippin - what an old hag. I'm sorry, but I would never have even nodded in her direction if I'd known she said anything like that. Who did she think was your father then?"

       "She thought it was Bilbo."

       "Bilbo?!" everyone gasped in unison.

       "It was why my parents moved to the little cottage between Frogmorton and Whitfurrows, to get away from Hobbiton and the gossip. Bilbo also paid Lobelia a visit and told her a few home truths, and shortly after that she and Otho moved back to the Southfarthing, which was a great relief to everyone, I'm sure."

       Sam was still seething. "If my old Gaffer had ever heard that rubbish he'd ha' said a few things, I can tell you."

       "Later, when I started to behave as oddly as dear old Bilbo, particularly after he adopted me and made me his heir, she became even more convinced. Bilbo was absolutely furious - he wrote her a letter which was so forthright I'm surprised the paper didn't catch fire." Frodo started to laugh. "I'll never forget her face when she and Otho stood there examining the Will and desperately trying to find some fault with it. Of course that's just what Bilbo thought she would do, so he had made absolutely sure it was legal. She kept counting the signatures as though she expected a couple of them to disappear and bring the number down. It was all I could do not to roll on the floor."

       "Her face when you gave her the spoons!" Merry gasped. "I thought she'd have a fit, she went so red."

       "She had some courage though, to stand up to Saruman's thugs the way she did. If Aunt Dora had been around too I think they would have been quite a team. It's a wonder they didn't beat her - poor Ferdy Boffin has never recovered from the damage they did to him."

       They were silent for a moment, remembering Ferdy, who had taken over the resistance after Fatty Bolger's imprisonment. A gang of Sharkey's men had caught him out after curfew one night and beaten him severely about the head. He had problems remembering things and suffered black moods and furious rages, and his sight and hearing were impaired.

       A thought occurred to Merry. "What was needed was the Aunts." Frodo shuddered.

       "They were the most terrifying aspect of a stay at Brandy Hall or the Smials when I was in my teens and tweens. They used to sit around, all dressed in black bombazine, clicking their knitting needles and pouncing on unsuspecting young hobbits to quiz them about their marriage prospects." He finished his pudding and flopped back. "There was Rolo Proudfoot's Great Aunt Peony, Aunt Myrtle, Great Aunt Freesia Boffin, who had the most alarming stare I've ever seen, and Aunt Dahlia. I wandered into the rose garden one afternoon and they pounced on me and gave me an interrogation. 'Are you courting yet, dear?' 'No lasses yet?' They were always implying I was becoming as eccentric as Bilbo and that it was bad to be living with a bachelor who went off on long walks and was friends with Elves and Dwarves. It took me two hours to get away."

       "They looked like a group of crows, all sitting around, watching and knitting." Merry scraped the last of the treacle off the plate.

       "Yes - or those birds they have in Harad - the ones that sit and wait for things to die...."

       "Vultures," Pip said promptly.

                                                                                 ************

       They sat and reminisced for some time until Sam and Merry went out to see to the ponies. Frodo and Pip took the plates and tankards back to the bar and praised the landlady's cooking in such fulsome terms that she blushed. Then they set off down the passage to the rear of the inn, still talking.

       The rooms faced each other at the end of the corridor and the landlord had placed candles and jugs of hot water ready in each room, as well as a jug of ale and a large plate of sandwiches.

       "You certainly won't suffer night starvation," Sam observed as they paused at the door of Merry and Pip's room. A fine inn, I must say."

       "We have given it our seal of approval. Perhaps I should give the landlord a sign to put up over the doorway - By Appointment to the Took and Brandybuck families?"

       "You live in a dreamworld, Pip," Frodo said affably.

       "Not yet, but I hope to be soon."

       "Don't know about you but I think I'll sleep well tonight," Merry said, covering a yawn with his hand. Frodo nodded.

       "I think we all will. Good-night, you two."

       "Good-night, my dear Fro. Good-night, Sam"

       In their comfortable room, Frodo undressed and rummaged in his pack for his nightshirt. He washed his face and hands and cleaned his teeth, then pulled the nightgown over his head. He watched as Sam splashed his face and ran his damp fingers through the unruly sandy curls, then went to look out of the window. The moon was riding high in the sky, waning slightly now but fully visible.

       "Looking at the old Man in the Moon are we?" Sam said mischievously. Frodo laughed.

       "Thank you for reminding me of my idiotic behaviour. My foolishness that night in the 'Pony' still makes me squirm."

       "Reckon you're allowed the odd bit of foolishness, m'dear." He stood beside Frodo and gazed out at the silvered fields and hedgerows. In the distance came the shrill bark of a dog fox and close by they could hear an owl hooting. A ghostly white shape drifted past as it flew from the nearby elm tree and set off into the night.

       Frodo rolled the covers back and climbed in. The bed was rather high, with a fine feather mattress and big fluffy pillows which smelled strongly of lavender. He snuggled down while Sam blew out the candles, then sat up and grabbed a sandwich.

       "Mmmmm. Honestly, I'm almost as bad as Pip! You would think it would not be possible to eat another thing, so why am I eating sandwiches?"

       "Just filling up the corners I expect." Sam helped himself and then wriggled under the covers. "Shall I leave one candle alight for you?" He knew that Frodo disliked complete darkness, particularly in strange places.

       "No, it's alright Sam. The moon is quite bright, and you're here. I feel quite safe." He leaned up impulsively and kissed Sam's brow. "Thank you for everything. You've been such a help and support in all this, and never complained or reproached me for wanting to do right by Lotho."

       "You're the wisest and best hobbit in the Shire. Why would I complain? You have a kind and generous heart and you're acting out of respect for Mister Bilbo and Mistress Lobelia. I know how I feel about the both of 'em - Lotho and his mother, I mean - but I'm not going to say anything because I know you've forgiven them, and that's your privilege. I can't forgive them for what they did and said to you, but that's my problem."

       "It's years since we stayed in an inn - must have been Lobelia's funeral the last time we did."

       "We stayed in the little inn near Sackville, and you were ill with a fever. We were there over a week in the end before you were well enough to travel."

       Sam shivered at the memory - Frodo almost swooning after the burial, and the pitying looks of the Bracegirdles as they exchanged glances which clearly said they did not expect Frodo to last much longer. He remembered watching over his master and seeing that the fading effect he had first noticed in Ithilien was more pronounced. The first prickling of fear and unease had come upon him in that little bedroom.

       "Sam? Oh my dear Sam, don't cry." Frodo hugged Sam, who had not even realised that he was weeping.

       "Sorry. I shouldn't be acting like this." Sam scrubbed at his cheeks but found that, once begun, the tide could not be stemmed.

       "You need never say sorry to me, Sam. You have your nightmares, I'm sure, but I've been too wrapped up in myself and my own to talk to you about yours." He supplied a handkerchief and dried his friend's tears.

       "How could I even think of mine when you had suffered so much. I wouldn't trouble you......" He stopped as Frodo wagged a finger at him.

       "There you go again! We went through it together, and who can you talk to if not me? You have always been my rock and my support, and I am happy to be yours."

       Sam sniffed. "My nightmares are always about the times I nearly lost you - Weathertop, the spider, the mountain, and then when I thought you'd leave with Mr Bilbo, and when you were ill. Those are the moments I think about."

       "But now I'm well and I'm here and I'll stay here, and that too is thanks to you." Frodo snuggled down again and held Sam's fingers loosely in his. "Sleep well, my Sam, but don't forget - if you need to speak of these things then please talk to me. Will you do that?"

       "Aye, I will. Good night, master mine."

       At some point during the night Frodo began the familiar dream that he always dreaded. He was asleep in Bag End when there was a knock on his bedroom door. Reluctantly he rose to answer it, unable to ignore the demand but terrified because he knew what he would see. He knew that Lotho would be standing there, a rotting cadaver, skin peeling back, teeth grinning through the tendons in his cheeks, the eye sockets empty. Grasping the door handle he flung open the door. There stood Lotho, but this time it was Lotho as he had been in life, fleshy and whole. He looked long and hard at his cousin and then nodded slowly. "Thank you" he whispered, and turned and walked away down the passage.

       Frodo stirred and woke. He looked about him for a moment, surprised and relieved beyond measure. Sam was instantly awake.

       "What is it? Did you have a bad dream?" Frodo shook his head and smiled.

       "Quite the reverse. I think that particular ghost has been laid at last." He told Sam about the dream, and they ate the rest of the sandwiches and drank a little ale.

       "Reckon they do approve - Mr Lotho and his ma. You did right by them and they're pleased. I'm glad."

       Frodo cocked his head slightly. "It's raining now. Soft spring rain from the sound of it. Your plants will be glad of it, and when we go home you can set about planting those trees."

       "You still think I should? Wouldn't want to be disrespectful."

       "Plant the trees. I don't think Lotho would be insulted. Besides, we'll probably think of him whenever we look at them, so he has a memorial of sorts." Frodo lay back and listened to the rain.

       "We're not travelling in this - don't want you getting wet and catching a chill. I hope it's stopped by morning," Sam muttered, and fell asleep.

                                                                                  ***********

       The rain had indeed stopped by the morning. By the time all four hobbits assembled in the parlour and happily contemplated a gargantuan breakfast, the sun was struggling through the clouds. They turned their attention to the repast, which contained enough tomatoes, sausages and nice crispy bacon - not to mention mushrooms and fried bread, followed by toast and jam - to keep an army of hobbits happy.

       "Mmmmmm. I think I might last until elevenses now," Pip murmured, pouring another cup of tea.

       Frodo surveyed the damage. "Are you sure?" he enquired, keeping a perfectly straight face.

       "That was a very impressive breakfast," Merry agreed when he had stopped spluttering tea everywhere.

       "My opinion of the Southfarthing has gone up," Sam said. "I think even Pippin has changed his mind about this being the back of beyond."

       "The back of beyond is fine if they serve breakfasts like this!"

       With many farewells to the landlord and his wife, they set off. The ponies had been brushed and the ribbons removed from their manes and tails, and they set out at a brisk trot. The road slipped away beneath their hooves and the hobbits savoured their surroundings. Gradually they took up the old travelling song, startling the occasional walker on the road and flushing out assorted wildlife from the hedgerows and ditches.

                                          The road goes ever on and on,

                                           Down from the door where it began.

                                          Now far ahead the road has gone,

                                          And I must follow if I can.........

       The road had gone on and on. Sam had thought it would end at Mount Doom, but by the Grace of the Valar they had survived, and it was there to follow for many more years. He added his voice to that of his friends, and the miles vanished behind them as they journeyed towards home.

                                                               *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*