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Old Scores  by Baggins Babe

Blotmath (November) 1430 SR

It was often said by older hobbits that if a death occurred, two more would follow. In the first week of Blotmath Widow Goodbody died. She was a hundred and four and left many children and grand-children to mourn her loss and celebrate her life. Three days after her death, the hobbits of Hobbiton and Bywater learned of the passing of Gaffer Sandheaver.

       On the twelfth day of the month a Quick Post letter arrived from Buckland. It was in Pip's hand but the style indicated that the writer was under some strain. Frodo opened it with sudden dread. Had one of the babies slipped away with that awful crib death?

                                                                                                             11th Blotmath

 Dearest Fro,

              Sorry to send you bad news but Merry is busy comforting Uncle Doc and the rest. I'm afraid poor Uncle Mac has gone. He collapsed and died in the stable-yard this morning while grooming his pony. The stable-lad was at his side in seconds but it was too late. The healer says it was a seizure of the heart and that nothing could have been done even if it had happened inside the Hall.

       I don't know if you can come here for the funeral but I know Merry, Uncle Doc and Beri and his Mum would really appreciate it if you can. I've never seen Uncle Doc so upset. He's walking round in a daze and seems to have aged in a few hours. Aunt Eudora is beside herself and Pimmie is trying to comfort Beri. Merry and Aunt Esme are running themselves ragged trying to help them all and I know they're upset too. We all loved Uncle Mac, and at 88 he wasn't all that old for a hobbit. Of course the Brandybucks are not as long-lived as the Tooks but it was so unexpected and an awful shock.

       Your loving Pip.

       Within two hours Frodo was packed and on hs way, Limlight cantering swiftly past the Three Farthing Stone and on, not stopping at Frogmorton. Frodo ate sandwiches while he rode, determined to reach Brandy Hall that evening. He paused briefly at the Bridge to speak to one of the Rangers and a couple of the Buckland Shirriffs, who all offered their condolences.

       The lights were lit in many of the windows as he reached the Hall's main entrance, although he could see that the curtains in Merimac's apartments were drawn.

        "Frodo dear!" Esme cried. She flung her arms around his neck and (most unusually) burst into tears.

        Frodo held her and rubbed her back soothingly as she wept. She looked tired and strained and had no doubt been holding back her own grief while she consoled the others.

       "I'm sorry," she sniffled, fumbling for her handkerchief.

       "Take mine." A large white handkerchief dried her tears. "And there's nothing to be sorry for. Who can you share your grief with if not with me?"

       "Oh Frodo, I do love you so, my sweet lad."

       "Dearest Esme. Only you could refer to a sixty-two year old hobbit as a lad!" He held her chin and tilted her face up to look at her. "There! No-one will know."

       "You are my lad - always will be. And you have had more than enough grief in your life already. I hate to burden you with more."

       "You are not burdening me. I loved Mac and I wanted to pay my last respects to him."

       Merry emerged from the Master's apartments and threw himself at his cousin. "I'm so glad you're here!" He clung to Frodo for several minutes before pulling back. "I've never seen Da so upset." He lowered his voice, lest his mother overhear. "He looks.......old. I've never thought of Da as being old - well he's only ninety. Aunt Eudora's a wreck and poor Beri is reeling."

       "I can imagine. This is such a shock, especially as I was here before my birthday and he was fine."

       "I know." Merry led the way inside. "He had a good breakfast, apparently, and then went out to groom Witchhazel ready for a ride to Rushey on business. The stable-lad was mucking out, heard some sort of noise and as he looked over, Mac clutched his chest and dropped."

       "At least I suppose he didn't suffer. There is little consolation when someone dies but if someone has to go then it is better for them to go without pain. Not better for their loved ones, of course, since the shock is so much greater."

       Esme walked in from the sitting-room with Saradoc and Frodo had to hide his own shock at the change in his cousin. He seemed bowed with grief, his usually smiling expression replaced by one of enormous sadness.

       "Sarry!" He strode forward and clasped his cousin in his arms. "There are no adequate words but I'm so sorry."

       "He was so fond of you, my boy. Always the peacemaker, a typical Goold, funny and gentle. Even after our parents died I never felt alone because dear Mac was always there. He was my little brother and it was my job to protect him, but when it happened I wasn't there......" Sara's breath caught in pain.

       "Even if you had been, there was nothing you could have done. We always feel guilt when someone dies - I kept thinking that if I'd been in the boat that night, I could have saved my parents. Don't go beating yourself about this."

       Berilac and his mother were both pleased and touched to see Frodo. Food was brought and they sat around, picking at the food and, unusually for hobbits, saying little. It was enough to have the others' reassuring presence.

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

       Two days later Merimac Brandybuck was carried to his rest in the Brandy Hall burial ground. It was a cold and slightly foggy morning. Mist drifted in phantom wisps from the river, chill ghostly fingers twining damply round necks and inside collars. Frodo burrowed into his scarf and pulled his thick cloak around him. The sun itself seemed to hide his face on such a day. However, as the coffin was lowered gently into the grave and Saradoc stepped forward to say a few words, the mist parted and sunlight gilded the trees.

       Saradoc looked up and gave a rueful smile. "How like Mac - he always was a ray of sunshine to us all." There was a ripple of laughter. "My baby brother always wanted to be first in many things, although he never wanted to be Master. He was first to ride a pony, first to kiss a lass, to have a son. And now he is first to go beyond this world........to enter the Presence, as our King says. He was always very adventurous, having spent a great deal of his childhood listening to Bilbo Baggins. When Merry and Pip disappeared with Frodo and I was frantic, Mac told me not to be 'an old stuffed shirt' because it was natural for a son of mine who was half-Took to want to go gadding off. Mac, you dear old ass, don't go too far ahead. I don't want to go just yet but I want you to be waiting for me when I reach the next world." Sara choked slightly on the last words, and threw a handful of earth into the grave.

       Frodo listed to the rattle of falling earth and his mind travelled back to a summer morning, Bilbo's hands on his shoulders, his hand tight in Esme's as they watched the two coffins lowered side by side. It seemed so far away, that nightmare time, and yet he could still remember it vividly and feel what he felt then. When his turn came, he threw his handful of earth into the grave and murmured a farewell.

       Glancing back at the heap of earth and the glowing dahlias and chrysanthemums piled on the grave, the large group made their way back to the Hall. The squirrels provided some amusement as they scuttled up and down the tree trunks, burying stores for the winter and dropping acorns on those walking beneath the trees. The creatures were growing their winter coats with pronounced ear tufts and bushy tails. They looked enchanting, peeping impishly from behind the trees.

       "Da always loved to watch the little rascals," said Berilac. "That is why our Emerald is so fond of animals, because her grand-da used to take her for long walks and tell her all about them." He hugged his daughter close.

       "He certainly enjoyed his visit to Rohan," Merry said with a smile. He had taken Merimac to visit Edoras and see the horse herds on the plains. His uncle had always been the one to tame ponies, befriend stray cats and dogs and feed the furred and feathered winter visitors to the Hall. "And even Eomer was impressed with his ability to tame some of those horses."

       "He had a very sure touch with ponies. Even the wildest and most difficult among them would come to him. It was a gift."

                                                                         ***********

       The following days were spent in gentle reminiscence as the family drew together and did what hobbits always did in times of trouble. They talked, told comfortingly familiar stories of Mac's adventures and escapades, laughed, cried, and ate. Saradoc drew special comfort from his new little grandson, who was an amiable and placid baby. Estella made sure that he spent a great deal of time in the Master's apartments, where Sara could be heard singing comical songs and gently teasing Theo. They were bittersweet days but the tears were healing ones and Mac was remembered with love.

       Frodo stayed almost two weeks before riding back to Hobbiton. Three births, three deaths. He hoped that would be the last deaths for a long time. He spent the journey deep in thought, hoping that Sam, Rose and the children were well and that the families on New Row were avoiding the winter coughs and colds.

       On arrival at the bottom of the Hill he was greeted by a motley group of little ones, all well-wrapped against the winter chill. Ellie raced down but slowed so as not to alarm the pony. She reached up and stroked the velvety nose and Limlight snuffled softly, his breath warm and fragrant. Frodo lifted her up in front of him and they rode up to the paddocks near the top of the hill, where the child helped him to rub down and settle the pony. They greeted Molly, Bill and Strider, gave them all some carrots and then strolled back to Bag End.

       "Phew! What a welcome! How lovely to come home to this," Frodo exclaimed as he was hugged and kissed by the whole family. Little Pip squealed and bounced in his chair until he had been picked up and paraded round the kitchen, Merry-lad celebrated in style by removing every scrap of clothing, and even Sooty squawked and yelled until someone paid him some attention.

       "We missed you, Uncle Fwo," said Rosie-lass, swinging round his neck.

       "It's not the same when you're not here," added Fro.

       "They're right," whispered Rose. "This place wouldn't be the same without you."

       Frodo embraced them all and, when he had washed and changed, he allowed himself to be settled and fed all his favourite foods. Rose had obviously spent all day baking.

       "How did you know I'd be back today? I didn't decide until two days ago that I'd be home today."

       Rose laughed. "I don't know. I just woke up this morning and knew you'd be home. Ellie knew too - she was dusting and cleaning. Turning into a real little housewife, she is."

       "You don't have Elven blood, do you, Rose? You knew when the Ring went into the fire, you knew Sam was coming home....."

       "Mum's an Elf princess!" said Fro, giggling.

       "Last time I checked I was all hobbit - perhaps I'm a hobbit princess."

       It was bliss to settle into the comfort of Bag End, surrounded and filled by the love of his family. For years after the Quest he had been hollow, burned out and dead inside. Now the empty spaces were full of love and caring and the fulfilling joy of truly belonging. He would have missed all this had he gone to Tol Eressa.

       The next morning, Sam went into Frodo's bedroom and found the four older children and both cats all snuggled with him, barely visible under the quilts. He beckoned Rose and they chuckled quietly.

       "Just think - if he'd gone with Mister Bilbo and Gandalf the little 'uns would never have had the chance to know him."

       Rose smiled. "Having him here is a wonderful influence. They love him so much and he loves them."

       "I reckon old Radagast was right - there's light and magic right here in the Shire."

       "He said there was magic in this home too - pure love has a power of its own, and your love saved the Quest, Sam Gamgee. We pulled him back from death and despair with some help from the Powers, and he returns that love." She gazed fondly at the sleeping Frodo. "Valar bless him!"

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

       Autumn was a time when the Shire children went out looking for mushrooms and nuts. Sweet chestnuts were a favourite, and walnuts. Sam had planted a few walnut trees on his return after the Quest and they were now large and full of the tasty treats. A good harvest also meant coffee and walnut cake once Mistress Rose began baking, and a consequent stream of visitors up the Hill.

       Acorns were another item the children gathered, not for themselves but for Farmer Cotton's two pet pigs. Most pigs were slaughtered as winter approached, but Patches and her daughter Holly were quite safe. They were allowed to forage in the Bywater Copse but the children hunted far and wide for more of the pigs' favourite food. During the year there were many visits to the farm from groups of little hobbits keen to play with the pigs, with kick-ball being a game they all enjoyed. They carried baskets of acorns to the Cotton's farm and old Tom was quite generous with the pennies, which the children hoarded to buy Yule gifts for their families.

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

       Ivy Sandyman knotted another stitch and snapped the thread with practiced ease. She was making little lavender pillows to go in drawers and closets as a Yule gift for Mistress Rose. They had been invited to Bag End for First Yule and Ivy had no intention of going empty-handed. She glanced up and surveyed her family with a happy sigh. She realised that something was missing - the awful tension she had endured for years, waiting with dread for Ted's return from the inn. She never knew what might provoke his anger. His food might be too hot or too cold, or the knife and fork not quite level on the table. Sometimes simply saying 'hello' in the wrong way would result in a blow. Hitting her had been bad enough but when he had started on the children she had found the courage to leave. That last week had been the final straw - as well as throwing Teddy into the table he had knocked Lily half-way across the room and sprained Will's wrist for 'cheeking him.' His last act of violence had been to stamp on Vi's foot when she was crying with earache. Ivy had taken the children and fled to Carrie Butterbur at the Pony, and Merriman smuggled them out of Bree in his cart the next day, while making a delivery to the Bridge.

       Violet and Will were sitting at the table, completing their reading and writing, pencils scratching on slates. Will curled his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. They had been to school that day and Gilly Rumble liked to set them a few exercises. Lily also sat at the table, mending brother Teddy's torn shirt, and Teddy was studying a map of the Shire and its place in Middle-earth, given to him by Frodo. The Master of the Hill had promised to take the lad hiking in the spring and Teddy could hardly wait.

       "Ma? Will you look and see if I did it right?" Violet waved her slate and Ivy took it, reading it carefully and making only one correction.

       "It's very good, dearie. You are a clever lass."

       "Hannon le. That's Sindarin for thank you. Ellie taught me."

       "Did she now? My little Vi speaking Elvish eh? Who'd ha' thought it?" Ivy smiled as she looked at the little table in the corner. It had belonged to her mother and she had been sorry to leave it behind when fleeing Bree. After Ted's death Lord Halboron had thoughtfully packed their belongings and sent them to Hobbiton, together with a letter so full of kindness that she had wept.

       "Don't take all night with my shirt, sis," Teddy teased. Lily flipped a cotton reel in his direction.

       "I don't know what you do with your shirts, you great oaf!"

       Will showed his mother the piece he had written about horses and she praised the lad warmly.

       "I think you two should get ready for bed. Tomorrow you can write your lists for the Yule bonfire - all the year's troubles can be burned ready for a fresh start in the new year."

       "Sammie Shortburrow says that Bag End is beautiful at Yule - garlands all over the place, green boughs, holly, mistletoe, a big Yule log and so much food you can't move for a week."

       "Ooooh! It's 'Sammie' now is it?" Teddy said slyly. He was rewarded by seeing his sister blush like a beetroot, and he and Will grinned at each other.

       "Shut up," Lily retorted cheerfully. "He's a neighbour, that's all." She kept her eyes on her sewing.

       "Stop teasing your sister. You can talk, Teddy my lad - I've seen you acting moonstruck over young Bell Brown." Ivy flicked her son's feet with a duster.

       "Hah!" Will crowed. "You and Lily will both be related to the Mayor if you marry into Master Sam's family!"

       Lily and her brother looked at each other, nodded decisively and then both chased Will down the passage to the bedroom, leaving Ivy and Violet giggling quietly.

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

       Violet stood in the hall at Bag End, staring around with her eyes growing wider by the minute. She had never seen anything like it. Everywhere she looked there were garlands draped along the walls, hung over doorways and looped along mantlepieces. Bunches of holly were draped around lamp brackets and mistletoe graced door lintels and arches. Warm, spicy smells filled the air with the fragrance of pine cones, juniper and pearwood, as well as the herbs burning with the Yule log, and the mouth-watering wafts from the kitchen.

       "Merry Yule, Violet," said Frodo, crouching. The little lass flung herself into his arms and hugged him.

       "Merry Yule, Mister Frodo!"

       "Come in, come in," said Sam, almost tripping over Rufus and Sooty as they scampered down the passage after a pine cone.

       They trooped into the parlour, where Ellie, Fro and Rosie-lass were sitting on the floor playing with an enormous model of Minas Anor, a gift from the King. Each level could be removed to look inside, there were perfect people outside the shops, teeny-weeny wooden fruit, meat, fish and other produce on the market stalls and a miniature King and Queen outside the Citadel. Soon the four Sandyman youngsters were kneeling on the floor, gazing at the model White City and helping to move the people. Ivy went to help Rose in the kitchen and Sam and Frodo set out the plates and cutlery in the dining-room.

       The splendour of the china, silverware and fine crystal glasses made Ivy and Lily very nervous. Lily and Teddy were seated with the adults and even allowed a small amount of wine. Will was put in charge of the younglings' table, taking his responsibilities seriously and keeping the little ones in order.

       The goose was tender and moist, the roast potatoes crisp outside and fluffy inside and the parsnips, carrots and leeks cooked to perfection. This was followed by raspberry trifle with heaped fresh cream. When they were able to rise they all filed back to the parlour to open gifts. Sam lit the parlour Yule log.

       "You didn't have to bring presents," Rose said as Ivy produced various packages.

       "Yes I did. I can never repay what you have done for me and the children since we left Bree. It isn't much but I wanted to show you how grateful we are."

       Frodo smiled. "We never judge presents by their size or worth. It is the thought behind them which makes them special."

       Ivy handed over the modest packages and watched with growing pleasure as everyone exclaimed over the contents. Rose was delighted with her lavender bags and pillowcases, there were sets of beautifully embroidered handkerchiefs for Frodo and Sam, little shirts for Merry and Pip, pinafores for Ellie and Rosie and a lovely embroidered weskit for Fro. The blue velvet had been left over from a dressmaking commission and the happy hobbitess had given it to Ivy to use as she pleased.

       Frodo fetched a basket from the corner. "These are for you." He handed out the parcels.

       The unwrapping of the treasures revealed a book of children's tales for Vi, a fine book showing different horse and pony breeds for Will, a collection of romances and tales of chivalry for Lily and a copy of Bilbo's hiking guide for Teddy. Each child hugged the Bag End residents, tearfully whispering their thanks. Ivy's gift was a delicate vase decorated with birds and butterflies. Rose had learned that many of Ivy's vases had been broken during Ted's various rages, and Frodo found the very thing on Cando Potter's stall in Hobbiton.

       "I........I don't know what to say..........," Ivy began.

       "You don't need to say anything, Ivy dear," said Rose. "Now why don't you settle back and help us to unwrap this." She indicated a large flat parcel propped against the wall.

       "Who's it from?" asked Will.

       "It's from the King," said Frodo. "Who wants to guess what it might be?"

       There were several wild guesses as the wrappings were peeled off, but gradually an elegant wooden frame was visible and the present could be seen to be a painting. Sam stripped away the last piece of paper and everyone gasped.

       "It's Shadowfax and Gandalf!"

       "I think it's a copy of the one which hangs in the King's own sitting-room." Frodo looked in the bottom corner and found the artist's name. "This man had a studio which overlooked the Great Gate. He was very impressed by Shadowfax and when we all returned after Aragorn's coronation he painted that picture and presented it to the King. Aragorn was so impressed he invited him to become the Court Painter."

       Will was beyond speech. The great horse was the most magnificent animal he had ever seen, and the artist had captured every rippling muscle. Somehow the strength and power of the great horse was combined with an ethereal quality, as though he were made from no more than starlight and moonbeams, his mane streaming like fine strands of mithril. Gandalf the White stood beside him, regarding the horse as an indulgent parent might gaze upon a favouritre child.

       Thus it was that the residents of New Row and the Hill spent the last days of the old year, content and looking forward to new challenges in the next one.

      





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