No Harm Will Come of It

A drabble series by Marigold

Thanks to Llinos for the beta!

“It’s a generous offer, no mistake.” Hamfast eyed his youngest son, pretending to consider, his mind already made up. Samwise was fairly quivering. There were some as might say that he was about to let Sam rise above his station, but his Sam was clever and a good lad and didn’t every parent want their child to do just a bit better than themselves? It would be handy to have someone at No 3 that had the skill he supposed.

And his Sam wanted it, no mistake. Well then…

“Aye Mister Bilbo, teach the lad his letters, and thankee kindly.”

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

“It’s an “M” Mari,” said Sam patiently.

“M” is for Marigold, right Sam?” Ham’s littlest lass grinned, showing the gap where two teeth were missing.

Hamfast hid his own grin. He had been taken aback when Sam took it as a matter of course that he would pass on his learning to Marigold, but the lass had taken to it like breathing, same as Sam. And what was the harm?  Bright lights both of them, no mistake. And “H” is for Hamfast…Now where had that thought come from, Hamfast wondered, startled.

But then, why not? No one need know. “Sam-lad…”

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

“…the elven king moun-ted…mounted! his stal-li-on and…” As Sam read aloud to his family, their faces rapt, Hamfast sucked his pipe in contemplation. He hadn’t thought about what sorts of things Sam might come to read, though knowing all the parties involved he shouldn’t have been surprised. Hamfast could read his name now, and a bit more, quite enough to suit him, but Sam… And there’s Mister Bilbo’s tales filling his head… Would Sam decide to go and take a look at them things, them elves and dragons and such? His Sam, off adventuring? No. No, Sam knew his place.  

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

“May’s had a lad!” Sam read. “His name is Hamath, after his grandas'…” Hamfast beamed. Likely they’d call the lad Ham for short, and what would old Mathias Fernbrock think of that? Hamfast wasn’t kindly disposed to the elder Fernbrock, who’d up and moved his whole family to the Northfarthing last spring. Including May, just married to young Mathias. If Hamfast had known he’d not have agreed to the match. He listened as Sam read that May was well but missed them greatly, and wondered who’d written out the letter for her. Sam would write back later, for them all.

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

It was a book, brand new, its cover in soft green leather, the title in some sort of gilded letters. Hamfast could scarcely pry Sam from it the night before. A Yule gift from young Mister Frodo it was, and Sam was near beside himself. Hamfast looked at it now while Sam still slept, making little sense of the words but impressed by the colourful pictures despite his misgivings.  He could read the words Mister Frodo had written though, or near enough: To my friend Sam, Happy Yule, Frodo. “To my friend Sam,” Hamfast whispered aloud. "Don’t that beat all?"

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

“I’ll write to you, Sam, every week, so that you don’t miss home too much.” Marigold was excited for her brother, going off as he was to do for Mister Frodo. “And maybe I can come and visit?”

An adventurous one, his youngest, thought Ham disapprovingly. “There’ll be no visiting unless it’s Sam doing it,” he declared. “No lass of mine will be haring off to the wilds of Buckland. Letters will do very well.” He turned to Sam. “And as often as you can lad, for you’ll be missed.” 

Now why’d Sam look so troubled when he’d said that? 

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

Hamfast watched the carriage disappear, taking his last child away. He was doing the right thing, he knew. It weren’t safe in Hobbiton. There was lots of them Black Men seemingly, all after Mister Frodo. The young Master’s cousins and his Sam had fled the Shire with him, to keep him safe. Mister Merry had left a note, so Thain Paladin said, kindly coming to tell them Sam had gone.

Bad enough worrying about that Lotho near his Marigold, let alone having evil foreigners about. The Thain understood. T'was good of him to offer Marigold a place. She’d be safe.

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

“What’s it say I wonder?” mused Daddy Twofoot. “Every door on the Row has one, seems like.”

Hamfast squinted at Daddy’s notice, comparing it to his own. “Looks to say the same as mine. The letters all match, leastways.” He said naught about the few words he could read himself, filled with foreboding even without understanding the rest. “Rules” “leave” and “Hensday” for starters. Hensday was tomorrow. Trust Lotho-Pimple to post notices no one could understand, and at the last minute. Things was getting worse every day.

“C’mon Daddy, let’s nip to the Dragon and find someone as can read.”

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

There was nowt else to do. No pub, no smoke, no visiting. No garden.

Hamfast angled Sam’s big green book to better catch the narrow shaft of light through the crack that was his only window now. At first Ham had just looked at the pictures, but his Sam had read it aloud often enough. It was easy to match the written words to the remembered voice of his son.

After this book there were others that Sam had left. He’d have a go at puzzling them out. There was nowt else to do after all, to pass the time.  

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

Hamfast shivered uncontrollably though wrapped in everything he owned. He dare not put more wood on the meagre fire, else he’d freeze tonight. There wouldn’t be more ‘shared out’ till Mersday. He poured a mug of hot water from the kettle. He yearned for tea, but only that Lotho had such things.

Burning the furniture weren’t allowed – Ham had puzzled out that notice himself. Better to freeze than end up in the Lockholes. Sam’s books would burn, but they were his only company now, a comfort even in the cold.

And they were all Ham had left of his lad.

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

The fire in the Cotton’s parlour blazed and Hamfast sighed with pleasure. He was surrounded by friends, had eaten well, there was tea and best of all, his Sam was home. Just a few hours ago Ham had thought never to see him again.

“I’ve a letter from the King for you Gaffer. About Sam.”

Hamfast took the envelope from Mister Frodo. Nothing would surprise him anymore.

“Shall I read it to you?”

“Thankee kindly Mister Frodo, but might be I can puzzle it out, with a bit ‘o help.”

Hiding a grin at everyone’s surprise, Hamfast broke the seal.

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

The End : )