Chapter 3: In which Frodo had to know…
"How did it happen?"
Mr. Cotton pushed off his knees from his squat position beside the hearth. Supper was finished. They sat around the hearth as the lasses cleaned the kitchen. "Sir?"
Frodo rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, exhausted. "What happened to Dulcie? How did she die?"
Mr. Cotton frowned, slowly lowering himself onto an old red armchair. "I believe it’s a bit late for telling such sad stories."
"I need to know," Frodo replied, his voice strained with desperation. "Right now."
"Fine, sir." Mr. Cotton heaved a sigh. "It all started with that Sackville-Baggins."
"Lotho?" Frodo spit out the name as if it were venom. "What did he do to her?"
"A few months after you left, Lotho started going ‘round Bag End harassing poor Dulcie. Marigold and the Gaffer were taking care of her, but one morning, Marigold showed up here saying a bunch of strange men were at Bag End threatening Dulcie. I told her to go there with the lads and get Dulcie out of there. I didn’t want nothing happening to the lass, her being with child and all.
"That night, the lads took a wagon to Bag End and filled it with as much belongings as possible since Dulcie was so particular with your things. We made two more runs there then Dulcie finally came to stay here. We stored your things in the barn, and some are in the house.
"Lotho took Bag End after that," Frodo stated, not waiting for Mr. Cotton to say it.
Mr. Cotton nodded, sadly. "Aye, sir. Dulcie didn’t want to leave, but those filthy ruffians were getting too much. Lotho moved in right away, and he was laughing about too. Things just got worse after that. The Gaffer and Marigold came to live with us for a while, but the ruffians forced them to go back to Bagshot Row after the smials had been dug up and those ugly sheds constructed. We had to hide Dulcie, or she might have been forced out too. We didn’t want to take any chances.
"The baby was born, and it was a light feeling around here for a while. We had no hope of you or Sam coming back, but Dulcie and Rose knew better. They never believed you two had perished in the Old Forest."
A jolt ran through Frodo remembering the letter he had written to his wife while he was in Rivendell. He wondered if she had received it before having to leave Bag End.
"Two ruffians kept coming ‘round here making trouble for the lads as we worked in the fields. One even broke Nick’s arm. Dulcie was in the fields bringing us water when those two ruffians showed up. They started shoving Nick. She got mad, and threw rocks at them. Tom-lad stopped her, but after she started back to the house, we heard her screaming. We ran up here, but only found Rose crying with a broken staff in her hands. She told us they grabbed Dulcie, and ran through the field that leads to the woods.
"I was fit to be tied, but not as much as Nick was. He grabbed a pitchfork from the barn and took off after the ruffians. Tom-lad and I followed him. We didn’t find the ruffians, but Tom-lad found Dulcie."
Mr. Cotton cleared his throat, and said no more.
Minutes passed in heavy silence, only the sound of water sloshing in the kitchen could be heard. Frodo was slumped on the settee, elbow on the armrest. His eyes were closed, and tears ran down his cheeks. "Was she dead when he found her?"
"Yes," Mr. Cotton replied, barely audible.
***
"Mr. Frodo, you need sleep." Sam sat next to his master on the settee. It was past midnight, and the household was quiet and still.
Elbow still propped on the armrest, Frodo replied, "I don’t want to sleep. The images will haunt me. Like in Mordor, the Red Eye glared under my eyelids, taunting me. I fear Dulcie’s death will come to me in sleep as well."
"Then we need a happy memory to block the horrible thoughts." Sam grasped Frodo’s hand, as he did many times on the Quest, and continued, "Remember the second time Dulcie came to stay?" Sam cracked a melancholy smile. "I found you two out."
***
S.R. Forelithe 1403 (Frodo is 34 and Dulcie is 32)
He walked in his garden, enjoying the sunshine on his face. Just the other day the geraniums the Gaffer had planted were blooming with flowers. Other plants in the garden were on their way to following the geraniums’ lead.
There was a commotion on the other side of the hill. Excited voices mixed with each other in what seemed like a happy greeting. Frodo’s curiosity piqued, and he strolled around the hill to find the Gamgees had company. It was close to lunch, so the Gaffer and Sam had headed home a few minutes before.
Sam most likely will not bring me a sandwich today - Frodo mused, watching the arrivals talking to the Gamgees. As much as Frodo insisted, the Gaffer didn’t find it proper for him to come eat at their humble smial. Frodo had convinced Sam to take meals with him, when he could get away without the Gaffer knowing. Sometimes Sam would sneak sandwiches to him. It was a small gesture, but Frodo appreciated it deeply.
Familiar sandy brown locks caught Frodo’s eye, and when he got closer, he could see that it was her. A broad smile broke out on his face. He jumped the fence surrounding the hill, and made his way over.
"I see you have guests, Gaffer."
"Aye, Master Baggins," the Gaffer replied. "My Bell’s younger brother and his family."
Frodo bowed to the guests. "Frodo Baggins, at your service."
"Tobold Goodchild, at yours, sir," greeted the hobbit, nodding his head. His dark curls were cut just above his collar, and his eyes seemed kind. "This is my wife, Crystal." The lady hobbit bore her strict gaze into Frodo. He could tell by her nearly golden hair and green eyes that she was a Took. Her scowl didn’t do justice to her pale face, but Frodo could see where Dulcie got her pretty features.
"Pleasure to meet you both."
"You remember Dulcie," the Gaffer added.
Dulcie, with hands behind her back, was smiling shyly at him beside her mother. Frodo took her hand, and bowed. "I do, indeed," he said, matter-of-factly. "Good to see you again, Miss Dulcie."
A blush shaded Dulcie’s cheeks. "Thank you, Master Baggins."
"You’re Bilbo Baggins’ heir, aren’t you, boy?" Mrs. Goodchild asked, sharply.
Frodo nodded. "Yes, ma’am."
Mrs. Goodchild rolled her eyes, sighing. "What a display he put on last year at his birthday. I do believe he lost all sense."
Frodo’s shoulders tensed up. He didn’t appreciate anyone talking ill of Bilbo, but he couldn’t extinguish every bad word said of his Uncle. He was still learning to school himself to take the snide comments after all these years. "Bilbo went to stay with the Elves. I think he was happy as to how his party turned out."
"Oh," was all Mrs. Goodchild said in response.
"Let’s not warm the doorway anymore than we should," the Gaffer said, and he shuffled everyone inside as Frodo said his goodbye pleasantries to the Goodchilds.
***
He sat on his front porch, taking a leisurely smoke on his pipe. If Dulcie was the same as she was four years ago then she’d find a way outside. Sure enough, the door to Number 3 opened and out stepped Dulcie. Frodo jumped to his feet when he saw she was alone. She caught sight of him, and made her way over to his fence.
"It’s wonderful to see you, Dulcie," he said, a smile glowing on his face.
"The same," Dulcie responded. Frodo blushed at the familiar words he said before she departed last visit. "I only excused myself for moment."
"How long will you be staying?"
"At least until the end of September." Frodo’s heart leapt knowing she might be around for his birthday.
"That’s wonderful!" He knew he might be pushing his luck, but asked anyway. "Will you have tea with me tomorrow?"
"Oh-" Dulcie fretted with a strand of her hair. "I’m not sure."
"It’s doesn’t have to be tea," Frodo added, quickly. "It could be any meal. I can slip you in and out of Bag End without anyone knowing."
Dulcie smiled warmly. "I’ll try to make it."
***
He hadn’t felt this excited since Bilbo brought him to live at Bag End. Frodo took out the best tea set, and baked fresh seedcakes that morning. A lass had never made him feel this way before - all giddy and floating, as if there wasn’t a care in the world. He’d thought about her several times the first year after they’d met. He’d wished he could have sent her letters, but without an address, that was impossible. His thoughts of her calmed after a while, and her pretty face only appeared to him whenever he read a book about the Elves.
But when he saw her yesterday, all the feelings that had begun right before Dulcie left, all came flooding back in seconds.
A delicate knock sounded at the door. "Coming!" Frodo shouted from the kitchen. He set down the cups, and went to answer the door. "Dulcie!" he said in surprise.
"May I come in?" she asked, hurriedly.
"Of course." Frodo moved aside, and she swept through the doorway.
"Oh good," Dulcie said, slightly out of breath. "I don’t think Sam saw me."
"You sneaked to get past Sam?" Frodo asked, amused.
"Well, yes." Dulcie untying her apron from around her waist. Frodo took it from her, hanging it on the coat rack. "He’s a tricky lad. I waited until he was on the other side of the Hill before hopping the fence and rushing to your door."
Frodo paused, a grin tugging at his lips. "You hopped the fence?"
"Well, yes," Dulcie repeated, sounding indignant. "I couldn’t just walk up the path and into the gate, now could I? Frodo Baggins, why are you laughing at me?"
Indeed, Frodo was nearly holding his side with laughter. "I’m wondering where the shy lass I used to know went to?"
Dulcie cocked her head, confused. "That’s supposed to be funny?"
He grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the kitchen as he explained, "I’ve never seen you so worked up before." It’s adorable - he dared not say.
"I can get that way sometimes," Dulcie replied with a shrug of her shoulder. "I really wanted to see you and talk to you. I’ve missed you."
Frodo felt his cheeks flush, and was thankful he wasn’t facing Dulcie at the moment.
"Well, we have the whole season to talk." He pulled out a chair. "Please sit. Help yourself to the cakes. I’ll get the tea."
"Thank you," Dulcie said politely, sitting and smoothing her skirts under her as she did.
She peered around. "This is a lovely smial. Sam told me how wonderful Bag End was, but I never dreamed it to be like this. So fancy, yet cozy."
Frodo grasped the teapot handle with a pot holder, carefully pouring the tea into cups on the table. "Have you ever been to the Great Smials?"
"Once," Dulcie replied, listlessly fiddling with a seedcake. "when I was young. I don’t remember much, but I did remember it being very big and colorful."
"The Tooks have a rather fanciful taste." Frodo sat in the chair beside her.
"This is good tea," Dulcie complimented then took another sip. "Oh! I must tell you, the book you gave me, I have read it many times. Thank you for giving it to me. I have enjoyed it so."
"I’m glad to have given it to you. If you’d like to borrow any of my books during your stay, you are quite welcome."
"I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Frodo. Thank you."
They continued sipping tea and munching on the seedcakes for a while, their conversation dwelling on the stories in the book he had given her.
"What happen to Elros after he chose to be mortal?"
"He was given a great-life span by the Valar, and his descendants were called the Numenoreans. Would you like to know more of it?"
"That would be nice."
Frodo got to the bookshelf in the next room, and came back with a thick green-covered book. "Would you like me to read a page?"
"Please do."
Just before Frodo could begin to read, the front door suddenly opened and in stepped Sam. Frodo and Dulcie sat frozen at the table.
"I brought you some-" Sam froze as well when his eyes fell on the scene before him. "Dulcie? What are you doing here?"
The lass stood up, and replied weakly, "Frodo invited me to have tea with him."
Sam switched his gaze to his master, a questioning glare in his eye. Frodo stood, and stepped quickly over to Sam. "When Dulcie was here last, we became friends and met out in the woods to read books together. I invited her for tea to merely see how she’s been."
"If you’re friends then why meet in secret?"
Frodo’s brow furrowed, and he turned to Dulcie. She had always been the one who desired to keep their friendship a secret. He liked the idea himself. It made what they had more special. "I’m not quite sure."
"So no one will talk, of course," Dulcie responded, quickly. "Word gets around so fast, and most of what is said is either not true or blown to exaggeration."
"That sounds about right," said Sam, nodding. "I promise I won’t say anything about you two being friends."
Dulcie smiled rather triumphantly, and hugged her young cousin. "Thank you, Sammy."
Though glad that Sam would keep their secret, Frodo wondered why Dulcie sounded so oddly relieved because of it.It’s adorable - he dared not say.