francesbarrattsfanfiction4

Frances Barratt' s Fanfiction Page 4
-A Fork In The Road-

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt
 Part 1
 
Seldom had Frodo enjoyed a happier birthday; Saradoc -- called 'Scattergold' -- Esmerelda and Meriadoc made certain of that.  They had invited only those whom they truly liked, including Merry's own first cousin: a cheeky young hobbit by the name of Peregrin Took.  Frodo recalled the connection to the Tooks and began to realise the complex nature of hobbit lineage.  Peregrin -- or Pippin as he was known -- seemed to be more fun-loving than most and not averse to mischief.  Early on at the party, he had siddled up to Frodo and asked about the incident with Farmer Maggot.
     "The trick is," Pippin said earnestly, "to know when he's on the other side of the fields."
     "Really?" Frodo had humoured.  "Then we must go together the next time I have a craving for mushrooms."
     "Oh, there's more than mushrooms to be had; he grows the best carrots in the Shire!"
     Frodo had stared wide-eyed at Pippin and knew him to be deadly serious.  But then Jess and her mother had arrived and he'd gone to join them.  Now, the sun was setting and Mistress Goodchild had gone to the room set aside by the breakaway-Brandybucks and left Jess alone with Frodo.
     "I'm glad you will be here tomorrow as well," he told her.
     "So am I.  Mother thought it would be too taxing for me to make a double journey in one day."
     He didn't comment; Jess had looked paler than he was used to seeing her and thought it best not to dwell on it.  She was never in perfect health, he'd often heard it said, though what form her illness took, he hadn't heard.
     "So, you have settled in?" she asked.
     "Mm.  It's more congenial than at the Hall.  I'd have liked Uncle Saradas to have been here, but to have invited him would mean Aunt Acacia and Seredic to suffer!" and he grimaced.  "You'd not want to fall under her frosty gaze!"
     "It hasn't been resolved then?"
     "No.  She came here a couple of days past but got short shrift from Esme; I had to admire the way she shouted back at Aunt Acacia!" he laughed.  "Jess, there's so much I wanted to say and tell you."
     "Like what?"
     "They all know more about my parents than I ever did and it seems I take after my mother more than my father.  She loved books too."
     Jess nodded.
     "Remember Uncle Saradas letting me read his?  Now I know why.  Like Bilbo said: Saradas loved his little sister and saw me as a living reminder of her.  Seredic was jealous of that, I know that too."  He sighed.  "Do you think I ought to try and make my peace with him?"
     "Do you want to?"
     "I don't like bad feelings, especially when I did nothing to make them.  Mother wouldn't want any emnity between me and her kin."
     "Then you must at least try."  She looked down at her hands in her lap.  "Will you forgive me, Frodo?  I'm tired now."
     "Of course.  I'll see you tomorrow," and he kissed her on the cheek, earning a warm smile from her.  "I love you," he whispered; the startled expression in her eyes alarmed him though.  "Are you alright?"
     "Y-yes; but you should not say such things to me."
     "Why not?  It's true.  There are few in this world that I am fond of, Jess, and you are the top of my list."
     "Fond?  You said 'love' just now."
     "Love comes in degrees, so I'm told.  I loved my parents; now I love you, the Gamgees and these new relatives.  What's wrong with that?"
     "Because we are not..."
     "Kindred?  Of the same gender?  What, Jess?"
     "Of the same class," she excused.
     "Pah!  Nonsense!"
     "I thought we had exhausted this discussion and you understood."
     "I do, but you cannot stop the way I feel."
     Jess got up from the garden seat and turned towards the modest home that had welcomed Frodo.  "Friends, Frodo -- nothing more," and she walked into the house without a backward glance.  It hurt too much to see his face and the disappointment etched upon it.  The flutter in her chest was a warning and a reminder of what could never be -- not for her.
 
TO BE CONTINUED...

Farmer Maggot has the best carrots in the Shire.

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt
 Part 2
 
Jess was ill.  Merry had woken Frodo the morning after the party to tell him that Mistress Goodchild was in a right pickle over it.
     "She feels ashamed that it happened here," he said.
     "Why?" Frodo asked as he hurriedly dressed.
     "They were guests -- and are: 'not of our class'," he mimicked.
     "Why should that matter?"
     "It doesn't -- not to us; but some of the relatives look down their noses at labourers and artisans," Merry said scornfully, turning to leave; Frodo's hand fell on his arm.
     "Is she bad?" he questioned fearfully.
     "Don't know; Ma just sent me to bring you," came the sympathetic reply.
     "Then let's go."
     Merry led the way along the passages of what was a comfortable burrow; modest compared to Brandy Hall -- though any dwelling was, in comparison to that labyrinth! -- yet luxurious against the Gamgees' home.  Frodo began to understand how the Shire was ordered by rank and birth.  He wasn't comfortable in the knowledge.  However, he was too preoccupied to consider how matters could be altered; his prime concern was with Jess and he recalled her pallor at the party.  Then, Merry halted at a closed door and knocked upon it.  The face of Esmeralda appeared at a narrow space between door and frame.
     "Is Frodo with you?" she asked her son.
     "Yes, Ma.  How's Jess?"
     "Weak but holding her own.  Jade says this is how it always takes a hold on the lass."
     Frodo pushed past both Merry and Esmeralda but froze when he entered the room.  Jade Goodchild stood there staring at him with malice in her eyes.  "How --?" he began to ask.
     "What did you do?" she cut in, her voice hoarse and menacing.
     "Do?  Nothing!"
     "You must have!" she argued.  "My lass was fine when we got here.  She comes back from talking to you and next thing I know, she falls down in a faint!"  Hands on hips, she accused: "Did you hurt my lass?"
     "No!  I would never --"
     "Then what did you say to upset her so?"
     He didn't know how best to reply and looked around for help from Merry or Esmeralda.  "We just talked," he affirmed, for their benefit as well as Mistress Goodchild's.  "She didn't look well at the start," he defended.  "We didn't even dance together," and his mouth formed into a pout.
     "That's true," Merry confirmed.  "She did look tired," he added.
     "Never mind all that," Esmeralda broke in.  "How's the lass now?"
     Faced with the Mistress of the House, Jade Goodchild remembered her manners.  "She'll come through, ma'am.  Needs to rest that's all.  Begging your pardon, but I don't see us leaving today as planned."
     "Stay as long as you need," Esmeralda said warmly.  "Jess is all that matters," but she spared a glance at Frodo, nodding to him in an effort to comfort the lad.
     "Aunt Esme," he began, turning to her, "is there anything I can do?"  He heard the hiss from Jade and his head snapped around to engage her grim expression.  "I know at what you are hinting."  He took a deep breath.  "I kissed her on the cheek; nothing more," he admitted.
     "It was enough!" Jade flung back angrily.
     "Oh come now, Jade," Esmerald said, "they are naught but children!"
     "Are they?" Jade questioned, a trace of sarcasm in her voice.
     "Fourteen years old?" Esmeralda countered.  "At that age I was still playing with dolls!" as she attempted to laugh it off.
     "He is too knowing for his age!" Jade said, pointing at Frodo.  "He reads too many books!"
     Merry stepped into the fray.  "That's not fair, Ma!" he declared.  "I know Frodo now -- but have heard nothing but praise about him; most of it from Jess," he ended with a nod to her mother.
     None of them noticed Frodo breaking away from the discussion about his moral conduct, to walk up to the bed where Jess lay.  He peered at her; her face almost as white as the linen beneath her head.  Fear shot through him and he began to shake.  Was it so wrong to care for her?  Even if it wasn't true love -- romantic love -- it still consumed him so that every waking moment was filled with thoughts of Jess.  Boldly, he sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of her hands.  "Jess," he whispered, hoping the others couldn't hear.  "Jess, I'm here now; you can open your eyes."  Her fingers twitched slightly in his grasp and he caressed them.  "Come on, my precious girl; it's a lovely day outside, no time to be withering indoors."
     "Frodo?"
     "Who else?" as he looked expectantly at her face.  The eyelids slowly rose and he heard a stifled moan -- his own.  "See, I knew you could," but his voice shook with emotion.
     Jess smiled weakly and briefly.  "I'm sorry you have to see me like this, Frodo."
     "Don't be sorry about that; I'm sorry you are ill.  What happened?"
     "I fainted," she said so matter of factly.  "It usually starts that way."
     "How long does it last?"
     "Longer each time."  She averted her eyes.  "Last time it was five days before I recovered."
     Frodo frowned.  "When?"
     "About a month ago."
     "You didn't say anything," inwardly berating his lack of perception.
     "I never have."
     "Why?"
     "Because you'd worry."
     "Is it... was it because of anything I did or said?"
     She shook her head; the charcoal curls spreading like brambles as she did so.  "The world cannot ignore me -- nor I it just because a laugh or anger might quicken my heart too much."  She smiled at him.  "The fault was mine," she murmured.  "It was wrong of me to discard your affection.  Will you forgive me?"
     "There's nothing to forgive and we must never speak of it again."  Aware that the other three now crowded together at the foot of the bed, Frodo glanced over his shoulder at them.  "The warmth of the sun will do her more good than hiding away in here.  Merry, will you help me to carry Jess outside?"
     "Well... yes... if..."
     "Good."  He rose and looked around for a dressing-gown.  "Mistress Goodchild, trust me to know what is best for your daughter, and belive me when I tell you that I understand the constraints put upon her," he said respectfully.
     Jade stuttered but nothing came out.  Esmeralda patted her on the arm and she knew the game was lost.
     Frodo found the dressing-gown but it was taken from him by Esmeralda who expertly helped the invalid into the garment then assisted the two lads as they carried her between them.  Jade Goodchild was left to wonder whether she had already lost her child -- not to the debilitating illness but the obvious affections of this particular branch of the Brandybuck clan.  Then there was the matter of Frodo Baggins.  Watching him around Jess, even Jade had to admit to herself that his concern was genuine.  Her fears of losing Jess had put blame on the Orphan that was undeserved.  Their time together would be brief, no matter what she did or said.  Time to release the reins and let them have their heads.
 
TO BE CONTINUED...

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt 
 Part 3
 
Frodo spent the entire day at Jess's side; anything she wanted, he would fetch; anyone who came to ask after her welfare had to get past him first.  He was holding true to his promise to take care of her.  Come sunset there was a little more colour in her cheeks and she was actually laughing again.
"I shall have to return home tomorrow, Frodo," she informed him.
"No, it's far too soon!" he said in a panic.  "There's plenty of time yet."
 Jess smiled sweetly and touched Frodo's hand.  "You would keep me here forever," she said.
 "Yes," he rasped.  "I hardly dare take my eyes off you."
 "I'm not going to disappear!" she jested.  "I'm no wizard."
 "Mistress Gamgee once mentioned a wizard and it seems Bilbo once went on a journey with the one named Gandalf," he recalled.
 "Yes; he often visits Hobbiton, I think he enjoys the simple life of hobbits."
 "I'd like to meet him."
 "Then you probably will; though Gandalf is unpredictable, he just turns up without warning and goes off again without a fuss."
 Frodo returned the smile.  "I wish I could return to Hobbiton when you have to."
 "To stay you mean?"
He nodded.  "I hate the partings, Jess.  Why can't we both live in the same place?"
She had no answer for that.  The Shire was large -- so she'd been told -- and hobbits dwelt in all four Farthings of it.  Just hobbits, no Big Folk.  Jess looked at the autumn sunset then at Frodo.  The red of the sky seemed to turn his eyes purple and she involuntarily giggled.  "You and I must return to the house before the moon comes up and turns your eyes to silver!" she said.
 "What do you mean?"
 "The light from the sky," as she pointed, "changes the colour of your eyes; they appear like violets."
 He merely smiled.  "Shall I go and get Merry to help us?"
 "No; no, let me try to walk.  I can lean on your arm."
 Frodo wasn't sure what he was reading in her eyes: determination or resignation.  He argued.  "No, I'll call Merry.  You stay here," and he shot back into the house.  As he entered by the back door, he heard more voices than normal and in the split second before entering the parlour from the kitchen, thought Bilbo or Sam had turned up.  The figure he encountered had its back to him but it was a male hobbit.
 "Frodo," Esemeralda said, beckoning him forward, "there's someone come to see you."
 The figure turned.  "Hello, cousin."
 "Seredic!" Frodo said with shock.  "What do you want?"
 "Easy, Frodo," Merry advised as he approached to stand beside him.
 Looking askance at his young relative, Frodo asked: "Why didn't you warn me he was coming?"
"We didn't know," Merry answered.  "Ma and Pa were trying to reason with him," and he glowered at Seredic, "before sending him packing!"
"Your lad has a sharp tongue, Cousin Saradoc," Seredic complained.
"Only when he has cause," answered Merry's father.
"Cause?  What fables has this one been telling you?" as his hand shot out to grab Frodo by the front of his waistcoat.  "Liar and a thief!" he spat at the Orphan.
"Hold off him!" Saradoc commanded.  "The lad's a guest under my roof and you -- cousin," he snarled, "will mind your manners or I will throw you out!"
Frodo found himself the bone between four Brandybucks; three won the fight against Seredic and Esmeralda began to fuss over him.
"Are you alright, lad?  Where's Jess?" she said.
"I c-came..."  He took a breath to steady his voice.  "I came in to ask Merry to help me bring her indoors."
"Then that's what you must do.  Merry, go with Frodo; your Pa can handle the vermin here," she said scathingly; her head rising on her shoulders in defiance.  Tooks could be fiery when roused to anger.
The support shown him helped to calm Frodo and as Merry slung an arm about him in open defiance, it was obvious he wasn't there out of sympathy or sufferance.  The short walk out to the back garden heartened Frodo.
 "Creepy that one," Merry denounced.  "Something in his eyes."
 "Why the preoccupation with eyes?" Frodo wanted to know.
"A smile can lie; eyes don't," Merry explained.  They reached the bench and Jess looked up.  "Ready?" Merry asked her.  "Only I warn you: we've got an unwelcome visitor in there -- Seredic," he said scornfully.
 "Why's he here?" she questioned.
"Stirring up trouble; but you and Frodo needn�t worry, Pa will soon sort him out."  Merry grinned.  "Won't be the first time Pa has thrashed him!"
Frodo grimaced.  "Beaten him?"
"Knuckle-fight," Merry said, making fists of his hands.  "Old Rory reckoned it was the best way to knock the stuffing out of a windbag!  My grandad," he told the bewildered pair, "they all call him Old Rory."
 Shaking his head, Frodo remarked: "I'll never remember all the names."
 "Yes you will.  Ma has a wonderful book full of them; all the inter-marriages, names and dates; all in there."  He winked.  "Even you and me, Frodo!  Us being younger and all that, there's room still for..." but he stopped.
 "Wives?" Frodo finished.
 Merry blushed; hastily looked from Jess to Frodo and back again and wished he'd bitten his tongue sooner.  "Sorry."
 Jess rescued him.  "Don't be sorry on my account, Merry; Frodo will wed one day; he must.  Now, gentlemen, your aid would be greatly appreciated."
 Silently, the two young hobbits lifted Jess from the bench and carried her into the house -- which was much quieter.  They took her through into the parlour where Saradoc and Esmeralda sat on opposite sides of the fireplace.
 "Has he gone?" Frodo asked nervously.
 "With his tail between his legs," answered Saradoc.
 "Why did he come?" Jess queried.
 "Wants Frodo to go back to the Hall.  As if he would!" Saradoc assumed.  "Don't want to go back, do you, lad?"
 "No, sir."
 "Then that's an end to it.  We'll eat supper now.  Esme, some of your wondrous stew for the lass, if you please.  Frodo, you have a home here for as long as you wish."
 "Thank you."
 Saradoc presided over the evening meal, sitting at the head of the table; Meriadoc on his right, Esmeralda on his left; then his three guests: Frodo, Jade, with Jessamine at the bottom of the table facing the Master of the House.  Saradoc smiled at the lass.  "Naught for you to worry your pretty head over," he told her.  "Frodo's going nowhere he don't want to; especially not anywhere near that bully."
 "He never harmed me, Saradoc," Frodo said.
 "No?  I saw the look on your face when you saw him.  There's many kinds of harm," but he didn't elaborate.  Somehow, everyone understood.
 
TO BE CONTINUED...

Jessamine couldn't bear to see Frodo' s dissapointed look on his face when she told him that they could only be friends.

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt
  Part 4
 
Seredic Brandybuck had been hatching a plan ever since returning from his cousin's home.  His temper had raged for several days after but it cooled into clear calculation.  Several options came into his mind as to how he might take vengeance on the Orphan for having the audacity to run away. No one ran away from Brandy Hall; they might leave temporarily on a holiday or come to some 'arrangement' as Saradoc had done, but no one upped and disappeared without a by-your-leave. Though he'd never really liked Frodo Baggins -- or his father's interest in the lad  -- it wasn't seemly for a relative to walk away without leaving a letter.  Ah -- letters!  Seredic smirked.  That little substitution plan had worked well until the outside interference of the lass.  Second choice: get at Frodo through the girl?  It would be less messy than an open challenge, that much had been evident when Esmeralda Brandybuck -- nee Took -- had put in her four penn'orth.  Females could be so exasperating; a necessity at times but needing to be kept in their place.
     Third option was the law.  Frodo was still a minor; a veritable child in the eyes of all hobbits and therefore under the jurisdiction of a legal guardian.  At the death of his parents, Frodo's guardianship had been given to Saradas and Acacia; it was not for a fourteen-year-old to sunder that agreement.  Seredic was pleased with the idea; a visit to the Sheriff would soon settle this tiresome matter once and for all.  Whatever legacy was due to Frodo, the Brandybucks who had fostered him deserved their share; that's how it worked. So he set out to learn how to go about ensuring his family would be recompensed for the two years they had harboured the Orphan. His destination was to be the Sheriff-House at Frogmorton.
     Meanwhile, Jess had returned to Hobbiton and Frodo had settled down into the routine of life with Merry's kin.  Peace reigned for at least a fortnight until one particular day in late October.  Merry and Frodo happened to be in Stock; as they walked past the Golden Perch Inn, someone stepped out of the doorway directly into their path.
     "Well, if it isn't the little thief!"
     The two lads pulled up sharply and instinctively huddled together, glaring up at Seredic Brandybuck with controlled fear.
     "You go home, Meriadoc, my quarrel's with our Frodo here."
     "And with me if you so much as breathe on him!" threatened Merry.
     Seredic laughed.  "What will you do, little cousin?" he jeered.  "Kick me?"
     "Wait and see!"
     "Go home!" Seredic repeated.  "Or I might forget that you're a Brandybuck."  He swung towards Frodo and virtually pounced on him.  The terror in the Orphan's eyes only spurred Seredic to further malice.  His hand raised...
     "Stop!" a rich voice commanded.
     Seredic went flying -- literally.  Propelled backwards by what, he couldn't tell.  His back thudded against the wall of the inn, forcing all breath out of him.  Winded, he slid to the ground and sat there: feet upturned; his hands beside him and head against the timber building.  Stunned, he blinked to gather his faculties.  His eyes saw only grey...
     "Beat children would you?" the stranger challenged.  "What did he do to offend you, hm?"
     "Gandalf?" Merry queered, looking over his shoulder.
     "The same.  How are you, Meriadoc?" the grey-garbed rescuer asked.
     "Glad to see you, Gandalf.  This is my cousin -- of sorts -- Frodo Baggins," he introduced.
     The tall wizard stroked his long, grey beard and a twinkle brightened his blue eyes.  "Any relation to Bilbo Baggins?  Foolish question!  All hobbits are related, by blood if not by name," and he laughed; a warm, friendly sound.
     Frodo was still quaking from the assault by Seredic; to be confronted by the legendary Gandalf only made for more trembling in the limbs.  "This... this is the Wizard?" he stuttered.  "He's so tall."
    Said Wizard exhaled a laugh so deep that it seemed as if the earth shook.  "Didn't you tell him, Meriadoc?"
    "Tell me what?" Frodo cut in.
     "Wizards take the form of Men," Gandalf answered.
     "Why, when Men are so... brutal and untrustworthy?"
     "Not all Men," Gandalf said reflectively, his thoughts swept off to somewhere else.
     "Well, I have no wish to meet one," Frodo declared.
     "Don't pre-judge, Frodo Baggins," lectured the Wizard.  "From what I witnessed just now," and he paused to eye the still-stunned Seredic, "I might say that Hobbits are a quarrelsome race."
     "Not usually," Frodo said, but he caught the meaning.  "He's my cousin," pointing at the dazed figure.  "I ran away from home."
     "Mm; so I understand," Gandalf revealed, turning towards Seredic.
     "How do you know about me?" the Orphan queried in astonishment.
     "What?  Oh, I know many things," and he winked at Merry.
     Seredic began to regain his senses and struggled to stand.  Rubbing his eyes, he surveyed his surroundings.  "Where did you spring from?" he snapped at Gandalf.  "This is none of your business!"
     "I beg to differ; the welfare of hobbits has been my business for more years than you here can add in your ages."
     "Hmph!  Bilbo Baggins!  No good came of that venture!" Seredic pronounced.
     "Really?" Gandalf said, his eyebrows finally separating as they rose in mild amusement.  "Time may prove you wrong -- or right, as the case may be."
    "Tou talk in riddles, Wizard!" Seredic scoffed, tottering away towards the Buckland road.
     Gandalf made no reply; instead, he turned his attention to Frodo and Merry.  "Take the lad home, Meriadoc, I have pressing business further along this road."
     Merry nodded.  "You're going to Hobbiton?" he asked.
     "Eventually," as he cast a glance directly at Frodo.  "Any messages?" he queried.
     "Not unless you know the Goodchilds."
     "Gandalf knows everyone!" Merry informed.
     "And their life-histories I see," replied Frodo with a grin.  "You told him about me?"
     Merry shook his head.
     "I'm a Wizard, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf put in, thinking no further explanation was required.
     "What has that to do with the price of eggs?" Frodo retorted.
     "I see things," the Wizard answered.
     "How?"
     "Now if I told you that, you'd be as wise as I am!  Does he always question things, Meriadoc?"
     "He reads a lot," Merry told him.
     "Reading can breed curiosity; I'm not sure I approve of a curious Hobbit, but I like you, Frodo Baggins."
     Frodo's first encounter with one of the Big Folk hadn't been as he'd imagined.  This one was charming and not the demon he believed the race of Men to belong to.  "Thank you," he said.  "I think I like you too.  Will we meet again?"
     "To be sure," and Gandalf strode away, his staff seeming unnecessary for all his apparent old age.
 
TO BE CONTINUED...

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt
 Part 5
 
Life can seldom be described as 'uneventful', but it seemed that way for Frodo Baggins after his initial meeting with Gandalf the Grey.  Between November of 1382 and his 20th birthday in September 1388, he enjoyed peace and contentment with his new family.  There were trips to the villages of the Shire; he became familiar with Stock, Whitfurrows, Frogmorton, Bywater and of course, Hobbiton.  Even Jess seemed to fare better and Frodo hoped that she might have grown out of her illness.  The weather remained seasonal; nothing too hot or extremely cold, it was as if someone had waved a magic wand to ensure the sense of paradise.  In later years, Frodo would regard those six as the calm before the storm; a time in which it had been impossible to see what lay ahead, and how his particular road would dramatically divide.
     Plans to celebrate Frodo's birthday had been set in motion a good month before the event.  Esmeralda Brandybuck had taken charge of the preparations and brought together a veritable committee of helpers -- not that they needed too much goading; Frodo was well-liked by young and old alike.  One young lass had even gone as far as dubbing him The Heart of the Shire, claiming that he was the epitome of what it was to be a hobbit; take out Frodo Baggins and the Shire would cease to be.  Of course, with the lass in question being Jessamine Goodchild, folk smiled and allowed her the outlandish opinion.  No one hobbit could hold the fate of the Shire in his hands...
     The morning of the 22nd of September dawned warm and sunny.  Frodo awoke to the aroma of baking and dressed in a hurry -- mismatching buttons to buttonholes in his eagerness to find out what was being prepared.  He scooted into the kitchen, calling out: "Esme, what are you making?"
     She appeared at the back-door, her hands still covered in flour.  "Look at you," she grinned.  "Twenty years old and can't fasten a shirt properly!"
     He looked down at the bulge in his shirt-front and immediately remedied the error.  "It was the smell, I couldn't wait to see what it is you're doing."
     "Cakes, Frodo; small cakes for little ones."  She looked at him from beneath lowered eyelids.  "You won't be wanting tiny, iced cakes."
     "You know I like..." then he realised she was teasing him and began to laugh.  "Esme, you're a treasure," and he hugged her.
     "Let go, I'm covered in flour!" she protested, though his display of affection was typical of him and much appreciated by her.  "Since you're here and my son has disappeared -- off seeking mischief no doubt -- you'd best give a hand.  Unless you'd rather be off with your feckless cousins?"
     "That's a bit harsh; Merry is just... spirited," he excused.
     "Ah, maybe, but it'll get him into hot water one day -- you mark my words," as she wagged a finger.  "I know he's mine, but he leads poor Pippin astray something rotten."
     Frodo hid a smile; but for it being his birthday, he'd have gone with Merry.  Childlike curiosity had never left him and besides, there were gifts to wrap for his guests.  The Gamgees and Goodchilds had been invited, naturally, and that include old Tiller from the Ferry.  To all intents and purposes, Merry and Pippin were meant to remind the Ferry-Master of his appointment.  But Frodo was most keen to see Jess again.
     She arrived with her kinfolk shortly after noon.  The cart bearing them was loaded down with assorted Gamgees and the trio of Goodchilds; Frodo was there to meet them.
     He helped Jess from the cart; outwardly calm but inwardly, a whirlpool of emotions, Frodo only had eyes for his precious girl.  The intervening years hadn't altered his feelings for her merely heightened and matured them.  He might not be an adult in the hobbit sense of maturity-by-age, but in the matter of emotions, Frodo Baggins had long since come-of-age.  "How are you today?" he asked her.
     "Very well, thank you," she answered warmly.
     "Then walk with me; not too far, but I need to speak with you before the celebrations begin," he said eagerly.
     "Frodo?" she queried, tilting her head to one side.
     "I can't explain here," and he swivelled to address the others.  "Esme is in the house.  Sam -- Merry and Pippin are waiting for you in the orchard, but you must all excuse me for a short while.  I won't be long," and with that, he took Jess by the hand and led her in the direction of the Brandywine River.
     Several yards from the house, Frodo halted.  Beaming at Jess, he told her: "I've had a letter from Bilbo!  Properly sent and delivered by the Post Office.  He's coming to the party!"  Unable to contain his glee, Frodo lifted Jess off her feet and turned full-circle with her.
     "Put me down, Frodo," she said, laughing all the same.  He obeyed.
     Gazing intently at her, he grasped her shoulders.  "Shall we announce our betrothal?  All my friends and special relations will be here, I can think of no more suitable time!"
     "Betrothal?" Jess repeated, all humour draining from her.  She staggered a little, only to be steadied by Frodo.
     "Yes; why not?"
     "My dearest friend," she began soberly.
     "Don't!" he pleaded.  "Don't repeat the same arguments I've heard from all and sundry these past... six to eight years.  You'd make me so proud," he said softly.  "Please say yes."
     Confronted with his earnest face and the begging glint in the blue eyes, she hadn't the heart not to agree.  "Then how can I refuse?  I would be honoured to become your sweetheart."
     "Oh, Jess!" and without further ado, he kissed her gently on the mouth.  "Bless you; bless you, and... and thank you."
     They walked back slowly to the house, hand in hand; heart to heart; soul to soul, on a pathway that neither could see an end of.  Joy kept them afloat that afternoon and as more hobbits arrived, Frodo believed he had laid to rest the spectre of doom.
 
TO BE CONTINUED...

Jade Goodchild realizes that Frodo's concern for Jessamine is genuine and decides to let them be together. As time is running out.

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt
 Part 6
 
A hush descended as the last cart drew up to the orchard close to the Brandybuck annexe.  Seated beside the driver, Bilbo Baggins momentarily surveyed the small gathering; spotting one familiar face, he smiled and waved a hand to catch her attention.  "Esmeralda," he called out
     Kinship linked Esmeralda to Bilbo; her grandfather and his mother had been siblings of the Took line.  To further complicate matters, her grandmother Rosa had been cousin to Bilbo's father.  Because of that, she hailed him as 'cousin' and hurried to meet him face to face.  "I'm so glad you came," she smiled, "Frodo has been talking of little else."
     "In what vein?" he asked, climbing down somewhat awkwardly.
     "Excitement.  It has been long enough since you two met -- for all his frequent visits to Hobbiton," she said, eyeing him for his reaction.
     "Mm; well, I'm too busy to entertain."  He moved past her but she caught at his sleeve.  He narrowed his eyes at her.
     "But not too busy to come here when a free meal is on offer!"
     "You do me an injustice, Esme," he protested, but his cheeks were aflame with the guilt prompted by her truthful assessment.
     "It is you who are unjust, Bilbo Baggins.  Frodo is no longer a child and a quiet enough soul to compliment your lifestyle."
     He looked intently at her.  "So you still think I should open up my home to this Orphan?"
     "To Primula's son."
     "I saw him when he came to plead his own case and nothing in him made me want to change my mind."
     "That's hard-hearted of you, Bilbo.  She'd be happy that you offered her only child a home."
     Bilbo pursed his lips.  "Why are you so eager to be rid of him?"
     "Because I know he'd be happier in Hobbiton."
     "Because of the lass," Bilbo surmised.
     Esmeralda dropped her eyes, chin and her voice.  "She doesn't have long."
     "So I understand."  He sighed.  "Then what?  Ship him back to you?  The lad has been shunted around far too much in his twenty years."
     "So you know how old he is," she said on a smile.
     "It's on the invitation," Bilbo shot back.
     "Of course it is; but you remembered," she emphasised.
     "I am not so old as my faculties are failing!"
     "Yet!"
     He scowled at her.  "Bah!  You meddle too much, Esmeralda Took --"
     "-- Brandybuck," she corrected.
     "You're a Took by birth," he clarified.
     "Frodo is a Baggins by birth," came the triumphant observation.
     Bilbo's mouth twitched; he'd never been able to continue an argument with a female, they always used some emotional tack to end it.  He gave up and marched past this particular female.  "I'm going to find Frodo," he announced, "to wish him a very happy birthday."
     Esmeralda watched as Bilbo retreated to the orchard.  She wondered if the old fool had at last had a change of heart and would welcome Frodo at Bag End.  She followed him in the hope of catching some of the conversation and prepared to speak on Frodo's behalf.
     Meanwhile, Frodo was just sitting on a hay-bale with Jess, the two of them deep in some private conversation of their own, when Bilbo went to stand in front of them.  Looking up, Frodo squinted against the sun and at first didn't recognise his visitor.  "Bilbo?" he eventually questioned, standing up to see the older hobbit more clearly.  "It is you!  Welcome," and he held out a hand.
     Bilbo took it and noted the genuine pleasure on the young hobbit's face.
     "Bilbo, allow me to introduce my sweetheart," and he half-turned to beckon Jess forward.  "I think you know Jessamine Goodchild; we are betrothed."
     Shocked, the words came out without due thought.  "Is that wise?"
     Just as stunned, Frodo countered: "What do you mean?"
     Clearing his throat, Bilbo chose his next words more carefully.  "Hadn't you best wait until you're older, Frodo... before committing yourself to matrimony?"
     "It's a betrothal, Bilbo; a declaration of our feelings for one another."  He frowned.  "Why can you not be happy for us?"
     The old hobbit screwed up his eyes to shut out the penetrating stare from his young relative.  "Happiness is a rare thing," he muttered.
     "I am not responsible for the past," Frodo declared.
     Chastened, Bilbo raised his chin from its resting place on his chest and tried to smile.  Why couldn't the lad see things as he did?  One look at Jessamine was enough to convince any sane hobbit that the lass was on the border of life.  But then... when was love ever a sane experience?  He nodded; glanced briefly at Jess then her adoring sweetheart.  "I wish you all the joy that time allows," he said.  It was a prayer as much as a blessing and he feared that Frodo's love would be dashed as surely as his own expectations had been.  Or was the lad wise to inevitable?  Not the time to ponder let alone ask.  "Does your mother approve?" he asked of Jess.
     "We haven't told her yet; no one knows, you're the first," she answered.
     "Hm; then I'm honoured."  Bilbo felt awkward; it was a confidence that ought to have gone to a parent, not a distant cousin.  He side-stepped and kept on doing so until he was a few yards away from the young couple; then he scurried towards the ale-kegs.
     "Odd behaviour," Frodo remarked.
     Grasping his arm and clasping it to her, Jess leaned against Frodo and said: "He knows we will never wed."
     Frodo jerked and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he stared at her.  "Knows?  No one knows that!"
     "Be honest, my love.  Every day I awaken is another blessing; none can say how many more I may enjoy."
     "But... but you've not had an attack for so long now!" he argued in desperation.
     "No, but neither has my health or strength improved."  She touched his face.  "It's now or never, Frodo and I cannot imagine they will permit us to do it -- we're too young."
     "Then I will insist!  I'll begin the arrangements tomorrow.  We shall wed; and before the year is out."  He took her hands.  "I swear it."
     She smiled and the fragile heart struggled not to miss a beat.  His determination stung and she fought back tears.  "I do love you," she told him.  "I always will."
     "Then that's enough for me."  There were tears in his eyes too and he batted at them with one hand whilst grasping Jess's hand with his other.  "Come on, let's join this party and make it a real celebration.  It isn't every day a Baggins announces his intention to wed!"
     The orchard thronged with more friends than relations, all come to wish Frodo Baggins a long and happy life.  Standing on his own as the young couple joined the party, Sam Gamgee viewed his cousin with sadness.  He knew better than anyone just how much of a struggle it had been for Jess to make the journey that day.
 
TO BE CONTINUED...

-A FORK IN THE ROAD-
 by Frances Barratt
  Part 7
 
Frodo sought out Bilbo; the elder Baggins having taken refuge in the ale brought from The Golden Perch at Stock, though he much preferred a strain of red wine brewed in the South Farthing and labelled: Old Winyards.
     Coming up behind the Master of Bag End, Frodo tapped him on the shoulder.  A shower of foaming ale rained down on their feet; large, bare, furry feet.  "I need to talk with you," Frodo said seriously.
     Spluttering; shaking ale from his hands and stamping his feet in an effort to rid them of the cold liquor, Bilbo hurled back an impatient retort.  "We have spoken!"
     "No, you gave your opinion on a personal matter; I need to talk at length on something else," Frodo insisted.
     Bilbo slammed down his pottery mug and scowled at the insolent lad before him.  "It's my birthday too," he complained.  "I came here in good faith to wish you well on yours, Frodo, not to be accosted in this fashion!"
     "Let me return with you to Hobbiton," Frodo blurted out.  "I must arrange our wedding... swiftly and would be grateful if you permitted me to lodge with you whilst I do it."
     "No!"
     "No?  No: I may not return with you, or no: you refuse me hospitality?"
     "Both."
     Anger fuelled Frodo's response.  "No wonder my father called you a mean-spirited, selfish soul!"
     "Insolent boy!" snapped Bilbo.  "You won't get far with an attitude like that my lad!"
     "It's no worse than yours!  Maybe it's a Baggins trait!"
     "What if it is?  You think I want a duplicate of myself in my own home?  Find some other fool to bolster your ridiculous enterprise and leave me out of it.  Good day to you, Frodo Baggins!" and he snatched up the tankard, turned and tottered away to another corner of the orchard.
     "He's a bit testy," the male voice remarked.  "What did you do to provoke him?"
     Frodo swung around to come face to face with Seredic.  He went cold and stammered a weak response.  "He... he's drunk too much, I fear."
     "I know your game, Frodo; you think: because he's all alone, he'll share that warren he calls Bag End out of some misguided guilt."
     "Guilt?" he repeated, as all the old childhood fear came flooding in.
     "If he'd not quarrelled with Drogo then he might still be alive," Seredic explained.  "It was Bilbo that drove him and my aunt out of Hobbiton; or didn't you know that?"
     "Seredic!" challenged the female voice.
     Frodo gasped, but he saw the menace fly from his cousin's face.  Both turned towards the interloper.
     "You wife has need of you," Esmeralda Brandybuck all but commanded.
     "Wife?" Frodo echoed, his head whipping back to engage Seredic's peeved expression.  "When did you wed, Seredic?"
     "Three years since.  You mean: no one told you?" but he smirked.  "Matrimony is a glorious thing, Frodo; not that you'll ever find that out."
     "Go away!" Esmeralda ordered.  "Before I throw something at you!"
     "It's alright, Esme," Frodo assured.  "His taunts can't hurt me."
     "Hmph!" Seredic snorted.  "You weren't so brave until she arrived!  Admi it, Frodo: you're still afraid of me."
     Esmeralda intervened again.  "And that's something to be proud of, is it?" she spat at Seredic.  "You're a bully, Seredic Brandybuck, and I only hope you get a taste of your own medicine!"
     Unable to think of a suitable response, Seredic snorted in contempt and pushed his way past his cousin's wife, but deliberately jostled Frodo in the process.  Just beyond the pair, stood his wife: Hilda Bracegirdle as was; imperious, sour-faced and visibly pregnant.  He forced a smile for her and delivered a greeting designed to provoke attention.  "My dearest, you ought not to tax your energies in your condition."
     Frodo and Esmeralda both turned to view the meeting.  He whispered to her: "Seredic as a father? I pity the child!"
     "That's uncharitable," she said sarcastically, hooking an arm through his.  "Don't fret, I'll be keeping an eye on the poor bairn, but Seredic might prove to be a good father -- it was just you he resented."
     "I know; now it seems that Bilbo resents me too."
     "Does he?" she said in surprise, as they started walking.  "I'd say he's more afraid of you."
     "Afraid of me?"
     "Yes, afraid he might like you!" she giggled.
     "So there's hope for me yet?"
     "Always.  Now then, where is your sweetheart?  It's time to make your intentions public."
     Frodo looked askance.  "She told you," he surmised.
     "She didn't need to.  I know you, Frodo; and I know Jess, these past half dozen years haven't gone by without me noticing how things are between you."  Esmeralda sighed; a quavering sound that revealed more than her words.
     "You remember how it feels to be in love," he said.  "You and Saradoc have been together a long time."
     "I wasn't thinking of Saradoc."
     Frodo's eyes widened; was he meant to comment?
     "You look surprised, Frodo.  Oh, I had a sweetheart before I wed my Saradoc."
     The lips pursed and the young hobbit took the revelation as a warning.  His eyes narrowed.  "Are you saying I'm being foolish?"
     "I wouldn't dare!  No, I'm just telling you that I understand.  Understand and pray that you have time to enjoy it."
     "Time," Frodo repeated.  "Everyone seems so concerned with time.  None of us knows how much time we may have -- my parents didn't."
     "Ah yes, but that was an accident," Esme reminded.
     "So just because Jess has been marked out for a brief life, we cannot make the most of it?" he queried.
     Esme smiled; cupped Frodo's face and shook her head.  "You're right, there is no reason."  Steering him towards the bulk of his guests, she said: "I shall make the announcement for you."
     An expectant hush descended upon the assembly as Esemeralda ushered Frodo towards the food-table.  A couple of the hobbits shifted nervously and glanced around them, but no one else noticed the apprehension on the faces of Bilbo Baggins and Seredic Brandybuck, least of all Frodo.  He held out a hand for Jess to join him then put a protective arm around her shoulders and beamed at her.  His guests began talking amongst themselves again.
     "Good hobbits!" Esmeralda called out.  "Friends!" she shouted louder.  "Noisy rabble," she muttered.
     "Let me," Frodo said to her.  Climbing up onto a nearby bench, he put two fingers in each side of his mouth and blew; a shrill whistle rose over the cavorting crowd and they immediately cut short their converstations.  With so much attention suddenly focused upon him, Frodo felt awkward.  "Thank you all for coming," he began.  "You have helped to make this a birthday to remember; but there is something else."  He glanced shyly at Jess then Esmeralda.  "Today, I became betrothed to Jessamine Goodchild," a low murmur began, "and we plan to wed as soon as it can be arranged."
     The murmur swelled to animated discussion until one voice yelled out: "No!"
     Frodo looked for the source of the denial and was surprised to see Halfred Goodchild elbowing his way to the forefront of the crowd.
     "You cannot take my lass away," he said, looking up at Frodo.
     "I don't intend to.  I shall live in Hobbiton -- where, doesn't concern me at present," but he shot a glance at Bilbo and wasn't surprised when the old hobbit turned aside.
     "You can always stay with us, Mister Frodo," Sam Gamgee piped up, edging to the front of the crowd.  "Mam's said as much afore," as if to reassure Frodo that he had permission to make the offer.
     "Thank you, Sam.  There you have it, Master Goodchild," Frodo said in triumph, "I have a place to stay until I can wed with Jess."  He leapt down to stand proudly  beside his precious girl; leaning to whisper in her ear, he said: "Though what happens after that I cannot foresee."
     "One step at a time, my dearest," she responded.  "It will be a great joy for me to have you closer to me," and she kissed his cheek.
     "Then I must pack a satchel if I am to return with you," he said excitedly.  "Esme," and he turned to her, "you have been a good mother to me these past few years; I shall never forget your tenderness."
     "Go on with you," she spluttered bashfully.  "It was my pleasure."  More soberly -- as she laid a hand on an arm of each of the young couple -- she told them: "Take care of each other."
     "We will," Frodo answered.
     He led Jess back to the burrow he'd known as home; packed a few essentials and headed back to the cart that would return Jess to her home in Hobbiton.  As the sun set on that September evening, they began the long ride that was to represent the next fork in Frodo's journey of life.
 
THE END

Frodo is unpleasently surprised to see
Seredic Brandybuck. He's by all means not ever going to return to Brandy Hall .

Main Page

-A Washerwoman' s Tale-
by Lassie Rowan Gamwich

-Alone Amongst Many-
by Frances Barratt

-Forever Friends-
by Frances Barratt

-Moving Home-
by Frances Barratt

Gandalf comes to the rescue after Seredic' s attempt to attack Frodo

Burying The Past- by Frances Barratt

-Transition-by Frances Barratt

-Forgotten Memories-by Frances Barratt

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws