After his foray into the rose bush outside of the bedroom window, Bilbo decided he wanted it removed and a nice flower bed planted there instead, along with some morning glories perhaps. He wanted Frodo to awaken each morning with the sweet scent of blooming flowers drifting in through an open window. He wanted Frodo to be able to look out his window and see the green, rolling hills of the Shire beyond. Bilbo knew just the hobbit for the job.

"I'd always knew someday ye'd want this here rose bush gone, Mr. Bilbo, sir," Hamfast Gamgee said, as he surveyed the offending bush. Nine-year old Samwise sat on the lush grass nearby, watching his father's every movement and taking in every word with interest.

"Well, Master Hamfast, it seems to me that it's been more of a pricker bush than rose bush for some years now. No offense to you or Holman's wonderful gardening skills, by any means," Bilbo apologized, hoping he didn't upset the Gaffer.

"No offense taken, sir. It seems to me that young Master Frodo will far more enjoy looking at blooming flowers than this here mess of dead brambles." The gardener bent one of the little branches between his rough fingers and it broke off with a loud snap. He inspected the insides of the little twig ... there was no green to be had anywhere. The once beautiful rose bush was dead.

Bilbo smiled broadly, rocking on his heels. "Exactly."

He watched for a few moments as the Gaffer donned a pair of heavy work gloves to protect his hands from the many thorns and began to dig out around the base of the bush, while talking to his son the while about what he was doing and why. Bilbo wanted very much to help in the planting of the new flowers, as he'd overseen every aspect of the project thus far. However, he knew without a doubt that Master Hamfast would think it highly improper for his employer to be helping him with a job that was rightfully his. He left the Gaffer to his work, but not before producing a toffee from one pocket, sneaking it into Samwise's chubby little hand.

The hobbit child beamed his thanks and was careful to pop it into his mouth when his father's back was turned, knowing Gaffer disapproved of the number of toffees Mr. Bilbo always handed out to the Gamgee children. Gaffer said it would spoil them.

* * * * *

It was well after tea time when Bilbo went outside again to check on Master Hamfast’s progress. When he opened his front door and walked around the front of the smial to where Frodo's bedroom was, he was quite surprised to see just how large the uprooted, old rose bush really was. It lay upended a few feet away from the window, its many roots sticking out into the air instead of the soil. He felt a slight pang of regret seeing it lying thus. The rose bush, now obviously dead, had been planted a very long time ago by his father, Bungo. It had been a present to his wife, Belladonna, after she gave birth to their only child. The bush had been planted under the nursery window and had thrived under Holman's green hand. It had bloomed gorgeous pink roses that had once opened up to the size of Bilbo's hand.

However, the rose bush had come under blight the year Bilbo was whisked away on his Adventure and Holman (and his then young apprentice, Hamfast) had been unable to save it. The Master of Bag End hadn't the heart to have the shrub removed, since his mother had loved it so very much. He hoped she would understand, Eru rest her soul. Frodo needed bright, happy, growing things to look at and cheer him up, not a gloomy dead plant that was as old as his wayward uncle.

With one final glance at the rose bush, Bilbo looked to see Master Hamfast and young Samwise putting the finishing touches on the new flower bed underneath the round window. Sam patted down the loose, upturned earth around the bases of the transplanted flowers with the back of his father's trowel, while Hamfast carried over a bucket of water from the outside pump.

"Is this good, Gaffer?" Sam asked his father, hopeful that he had listened and done it right.

Hamfast knelt down to check his son's work, then gave the tousled honey-golden brown curls a sound pat. "Very good, Sam," he said proudly before showing his son how to carefully water the new plants so they would take root in the soil.

"This is a fine job indeed!" Bilbo praised with glee, bending down to inspect the brightly colored marigolds, pansies, tulips, violets, and daffodils. By the time his nephew would be settled in, the morning glories would begin to grow on their trellis that now outlined the round window, adding to the surrounding beauty. Little Samwise blushed and stared at his bare toes, wiggling them in the loam. He wondered if Master Frodo would like the new flowers just as much as he did.

* * * * *