A story I am working on for my very own Frodo
Everyone, well, every Sam, anyway, should have a Frodo like I have. She is beautiful and smart and deliciously odd and immensely talented. This story is my very small, but heart-felt gift to her.
The usual and sundry disclaimers apply. I don't own 'em, I just love 'em.
"Amin Kaimeluva" Part One:
The sun grew high in the west, and Hamfast Gamgee wiped the sweat from his brow, wondering for the tenth time in as many minutes, why his boy was not home yet. Samwise, his youngest lad, had only just started tending Bag End on his own, and he had the strictest of instructions to report home each day what he had accomplished. The Gaffer thought that Bilbo might go too easy on the boy, and he required his accounting from Sam, and not from his master. He sat on a small stool outside the modest smial, smoking his pipe, silently.
Goldie poked her ringleted head out of the door, and asked if Sam were coming yet. Her father shook his head, and let a small stream of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. Goldie began to fret a bit, and she leaned in the doorway to wait. Sam had not been looking well for nigh two days now, and he had made Marigold to keep it secret. He didn't want anything to prevent him from going to the Baggins' place everyday, it was his joy, and he knew the Gaffer would keep him home were he ill. Goldie could see that Sam was ailing, but he was so fierce with her, so unlike his gentle self, that she was startled into giving her promise. And she was terribly worried that she had made a mistake, because for these two days, his lunch pail had come home just as full as she had packed it for him.
There came a commotion from over the hill, and at the same time, Hamfast and his young daughter started forward to see what it was. It was Mr. Bilbo, and two lads besides carrying something. Marigold put a hand to her mouth, when she saw that it was her brother the two hobbits were carrying. Mr. Bilbo led them right to the front of their hobbit hole, his walking stick in hand, his brow creased in worry.
"Hamfast, your Samwise has had a bit of spell out in the garden today," Bilbo began in his queer, gentle voice. "He's terrible feverish, and I've taken the liberty of calling the healer here. I'd have gladly kept him at Bag End, but I knew you would want him home." Bilbo put a hand on the old gardener's arm, and turned them both to go inside.
"Oh! But where is my head!" Marigold cried out, and opened the door for the strange parade that followed. She didn't know by name the two lads that carried her brother, one at his head, the other his feet, but she nodded them in the direction of Sam's small room. She was stricken when she saw Sam's face--horrible white, with spots of high, red color on his cheeks, like a windburn. His eyes were open, but glazed and staring. Marigold swallowed a sob, and went to sit at Sam's side, clutching his hand in both of hers, alarmed by how dry and hot it felt.
Bilbo had stopped with Hamfast just before the bedroom door, and still holding his arm, began to speak again. "It is no ordinary fever, this, Hamfast. That lad needs rest and good herbs, and quiet. Do you understand?" Bilbo Baggins did not think for one instant that his old friend was dumb, but he knew how he was on the lad, and he wanted to be sure that things would be taken care of as they should be. Hamfast nodded slowly, taking care to catch Bilbo's eyes with his own. "Aye, Mr. Bilbo, I do. Thank you for fetchin' him home, and I'm sorry he was a bother."
Bilbo's voice raised a notch, as did his expressive eyebrows, "That boy is never a bother, most especially not when he is so obviously ill. I had Lotho and Wilcomb bring him home here. I'm very glad that I didn't go with Frodo into Bywater to the bookseller...very glad, indeed." Bilbo sighed and shut his eyes for a moment. The he took the Gaffer's gnarled hand in both of his ink-stained own, gave it a short squeeze, and began to make his way to the door, where the two husky hobbits stood nervously waiting for him.
Hamfast watched the trio disappear back up the road, and went back outside to his stool.