“Gandalf, Gandalf! Not the man that used
to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember
those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve.”
‘An Unexpected Party’, The Hobbit
“Givin’ birth is a mite messy, Mr. Frodo,” Sam warned his friend. “I’ve seen cows and lambs and such have their babies. And sometimes the mama needs help. But don’t you worry,” he said hastily, seeing Frodo’s eyes widen in alarm. “Why, you’ll have Mr. Bilbo with you, and Mr. Estel and Mr. Halbarad should be back from their errand by then. And Scamp probably won’t need any help a’tall, you know. She’ll know what to do, right as rain. Why, she’ll have those pups all cleaned up and fed and warm in no time, and you’ll be able to...”
Sam chattered on, relieved to see Frodo relax as he spoke. He straightened from where he had been lining up the freshly-delivered milk bottles in one corner of Bag End’s cold cellar.
“I don’t think I could bear it if anything happened to her,” Frodo said. “And to think that I used to be so frightened of dogs! Well...” he admitted, “I’m still not too fond of large dogs.”
“Don’t you worry,” Sam said reassuringly. “Nothin’ bad will happen. And when the pups start to come, you send someone to get me, day or night. Promise?”
Frodo laughed. “Your family won’t thank me if someone comes pounding on your door in the middle of the night, Sam.”
Sam sat down on one of the hay-covered ice blocks next to Frodo. “Don’t you believe it,” he said earnestly. “My Gaffer’s as taken with ‘that scrap o’ dog’, as he calls her, as the rest of us, even though he tries to hide it. I wish we could get one, too,” he sighed.
“Have you asked?” Frodo said. “We’ll need homes for the pups, and...”
Sam shook his head firmly. “Dad doesn’t mind a bit when Scamp stays with us, but I don’t think he wants a dog about, permanent-like. When you first got Scamp, and May begged an’ begged for a pup, too, he said, ‘There’ll be no animals here unless they give wool, meat, or eggs, and that’s the end of it.’ We haven’t brought it up since.”
Frodo had to smile at Sam’s perfect imitation of his father.
“Maybe we can think of something,” Frodo said. “There’s lots of time yet; Farmer Cotton says that new pups shouldn’t leave their mother for a couple of months. In the meantime...” He got to his feet. “Bilbo and Estel will have the ponies hitched up by now. Shall we introduce our Ranger friends to a real Shire market day?”
~*~
It was a beautiful morning, the air crisp and clear. Bilbo climbed onto the driver’s seat of the cart while the boys hopped in the back. “Are you certain you and Halbarad want to walk the whole way?” he asked Aragorn. "There's plenty of room in the cart."
“A few miles is no hardship,” Aragorn assured him.
“Besides, it will do us good to walk off that bounteous feast you call ‘breakfast’,” Halbarad smiled. He and Aragorn walked easily beside the cart as Bilbo started the pony down the lane. From their vantage point on the Hill, all of Hobbiton could be seen below.
“Halbarad,” Bilbo said seriously, “don’t be surprised if you and Estel receive something less than a warm welcome in Bywater. Even though Estel is becoming known hereabouts, Rangers – well, any Big Folk – are met with some suspicion in the Shire.”
“I understand, Bilbo,” Halbarad replied. “If the Shire-folk do not fully realize why – and by what means – your borders are protected, that only means that they live free of fear; we labor to keep it so. Truly, it matters not. Do not be troubled.”
It was a very mature and perceptive comment, and Bilbo realized
why Aragorn was grooming this young man for leadership.
They arrived in Bywater after crossing a small bridge above a swift-running stream – ‘the Water’, as the hobbits called it. Looking around, Halbarad saw the truth of Bilbo’s words. He and Aragorn attracted some attention – some friendly and curious, some barely-concealed scowls – but for the most part, the hobbits they encountered exhibited frank disinterest in the Rangers’ presence. But his attention was soon diverted by the sheer quantity and variety of items displayed in the festive booths and pavilions lining the Bywater Road; it was nothing short of overwhelming.
“How often are these gatherings held?” Halbarad asked in amazement.
“Once a week,” Frodo said, as he and Sam jumped down to the ground.
“This is more extensive than the marketplace in Bree,” Halbarad marvelled. “The bounty of goods for sale here is...” His voice trailed off as he took in the enormous market. Fruit, fresh eggs, flowers, cheeses, meats, preserves, pies and cakes, pickles, ales, bread, toys, tools, seed, and finely-made leather goods were only the items he could see nearby. Further down the road would be stalls and shops selling buttons, pins, bolts of cloth, furniture and books...
“Notice anything missing?” Aragorn smiled.
“Weaponry,” Halbarad answered instantly. “I see small hunting knives and bows, but no mail, helms, swords...”
“No,” Bilbo said softly. “Not in the Shire. Not yet... hopefully, not ever.”
“There you be, Samwise!” Hamfast Gamgee called out from where he sat at one of the wooden tables, enjoying a rare day of leisure and gossip with his friends. “Mind your manners with Mr. Bilbo and his guests, lad... and keep that cloak fastened.”
“I will,” Sam replied, his eyes shining with excitement. He grinned at Frodo, whose pale cheeks were flushed from the crisp air. “What d’ya need to buy first?” he asked.
“Enjoy yourselves for a bit,” Bilbo told the boys. “We can shop after we’ve sampled some of Mrs. Rumble’s fruit tarts.” He handed a small leather bag to Frodo, who slid the coin purse carefully into a deep pocket.
“I won’t lose it, Uncle,” Frodo said seriously.
“I never doubt you, my lad,” Bilbo said with a fond smile. He had discovered that Frodo, now so lighthearted and joyous about most things, handled money with a solemn responsibility. After the death of his parents, while living at Brandy Hall Frodo had been given what he needed, but pocket money of his own was a rare treasure. Even after five years at Bag End, Bilbo doubted that the lad had any idea how wealthy they were, or what he would someday inherit. He will make a good Master, Bilbo thought. He’s thrifty, fair, compassionate, and practical. He buys carefully and bargains wisely. There’s not an ounce of greed in him... and Lobelia and Otho will never understand why I’m choosing him for my heir. Never.
“What are you grinning about?” Halbarad asked curiously.
“Just thinking about my various relations,” Bilbo said lightly.
The five friends wandered about the market, spending an enjoyable time together eating and shopping. They took their time purchasing the items on Bilbo’s list, and loading up the cart with boxes, sacks, and barrels.
“Come with me for a moment, Halbarad,” Bilbo said after awhile, spotting a stall he wanted to show the young Ranger. “There are some books here that you might...”
Sam, Aragorn, and Frodo walked ahead, and passed in front of an open-air shop at which a vendor was selling a variety of ales and wine.
“There’s my dad,” Sam said, waving. Hamfast Gamgee waved back from where he now stood some distance down the road, talking with the West Farthing’s healer, Gilly Brownlock.
“That is something new,” Aragorn said. A crowd of children were playing outside the shop with what appeared to be thin metal sticks shooting off brilliant sparks.
“They’re called ‘sparklers’,” Frodo told him. “They’re part of the store of fireworks the Thain keeps at the Great Smials.” They stopped to watch the children toss the sparkling sticks into the air.
“They shouldn’t be so close to those barrels,” Aragorn observed in concern. Indeed, at that moment the shopkeeper came over to speak with the crowd of children, and started to motion them away. But one last sparkler had been tossed aloft, and was caught by the capricious breeze. The burning stick landed in a puddle of ale; instantly, a bright lick of fire shot up and a nearby cask was enveloped in flame.
“Run!” Aragorn yelled to the hobbits close at hand. “Sam, get out of here!” As Sam bolted towards the Water, Aragorn scooped up a startled Frodo and started to run.
Aragorn never heard the explosion. A mighty force slammed into him, and he lost his hold on Frodo as he was catapulted into the air. As the ground rushed up to meet him, something hard and solid struck him from behind... and everything went black.
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