Scions of the Third Age

Frodo Gamgee tiredly dove the tip of his spade into the turned up soil of the hill behind Bag End. He had spent the entire morning naturalizing the hill with bulbs that would not poke their pretty heads above ground until the spring. He knew he had done a good day’s work, but felt he had precious little to show for it.

He felt that about a lot of the work he had done since his father and Elanor had left for Lake Evendim, but Frodo took his sister at her word and trusted that if he worked hard doing all that was needed of him his parents would appreciate his efforts.

Truth be told, he rather liked the gardening chores. Elanor had done most of the light gardening as Samwise had taught his eldest child much of the lore of flowers and shrubs, doing all the vegetable gardening himself. And the hobbit lad found that he may, in fact, have a knack for it too. The spring bulbs nothwithstanding, Frodo had done some transplanting of herbs into pots for his mother’s sunny kitchen window, which to his secret delight were thriving splendidly.

Now that autumn was lengthening the lad was turning his imagination to other non-planting gardening projects and was contemplating an experiment with composting. As it seemed a rather messy prospect, Frodo decided to wait and see how it went before letting his mother in on the particulars. He also was thankful little sister Rose and brothers Merry and Pippin had been sent off to Aunt Marigold and Uncle Tom Cotton’s for the duration of their father’s absence. It would not do to have his younger siblings poking their too-curious noses in his smelly business and then tracking it into the house for all to see and smell!

The afternoon was nearly spent and young Frodo still had his regular chores to complete. With a weary sigh, he gathered up his gardening tools, loaded them in the wheelbarrow and prepared to head towards the shed.

As he stood up with the wheelbarrow, Frodo looked out across the farthing and noticed a rather fancy-looking wagon making its way up the hill.

At first he thought it might be his father and Elanor returning, but as the wagon did not look anything like the one his father had procured and as they had only been gone a few short weeks in any case, the lad quickly discarded that idea.

More than curious by now, Frodo hurried to the shed to deposit his tools then ran into Bag End to look for his mother.

“Mummy!” he called, sotto voce, through the house, as Goldie would be napping at that hour.

Rosie stepped out of the kitchen into the front room to ask, “What is it, Frodo? Have you mucked out the barn yet?”

“I was about to, ma’am,” he explained and hastened to stall her scolding, “but I came to tell you that there’s a wagon coming up the hill to Bag End!”

“A wagon? It’s probably some peddler, Frodo,” she frowned to herself. “I don’t have time to spend talking with such people.”

Slowly shaking his head, Frodo answered, “I don’t think it is a peddler, Mummy. The wagon was too fine. It was made from polished hardwood and there’s a painted canopy over the back of it.”

Musing, his mother agreed, “It does sound rather fancy. You go finish up in the barn and then clean up before tea. I’ll check out this wagon…”


The occupants of said wagon turned out to be Peregrine Took’s pretty wife Diamond and their young son Faramir. With them was a young hobbit lass about the same age as Frodo who had a rather sad expression, but spoke up forthrightly when addressed.

Diamond greeted Rosie enthusiastically and her friend was rather taken aback by her unexpected arrival.

“Rosie, it’s so good to see you, my dear!” greeted the Thain’s wife. “How are you feeling?”

Hugging her, Rosie answered, “Apart from being somewhat surprised to see you, Di, I’m feeling well. What brings you to Hobbiton?”

“Well, you do, Rose!” she laughed gaily. “You know, I couldn’t bear to think of you all alone here in your condition and I was rather lonesome myself, so I loaded up Faramir and Garnet in the wagon and set off on an adventure of my own. Garnet, sweeting, hop down here and meet Mrs. Gamgee.”

The hobbit lass obliged, leaping nimbly to the ground and bobbing a quick curtsey to Rosie. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” Garnet said with a solemn smile.

“Welcome, Garnet,” said Rosie, throwing a curious glance at her friend.

Diamond readily answered, “Garnet is Pip’s niece. You know his sister, Pervinca, passed away a few months ago?” Rosie nodded solemnly. “Her husband is still taking it quite hard, so we offered to take Garnet for a time.”

“Well, a sunnier household you could not have chosen, sweeting,” said Rose kindly to the girl. “I hope your sorrows are short-lived. Come now, Di. Collect young Master Took and let us traipse up to the house to find some refreshment…”


Rosie was taken aback when she entered Bag End to find that the kettle was already on the fire singing happily and a generous repast was set out on the table for their guests.

“What’s this, Rose? Were you expecting us all along?” asked Diamond.

With a tolerant and sweet smile, she answered, “I think my son is taking his hosting duties to heart.”

Only a moment later, the young man of the house tried not to skid into the front room from the hall. Stopping on the threshold, he took a moment to catch his breath before entering the room. Frodo looked to be freshly scrubbed, as damp locks clung to his suave cheeks and the collar of his fresh shirt stood up in the back.

Smoothly his mother eased the collar back in place and then patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Frodo, for making our guests welcome. Would you like to serve tea this afternoon?”

Feeling pride that Rosie had asked him to take over this important task, the lad was still somewhat disconcerted at the thought of pouring the hot liquid into the delicate porcelain cups. He knew he was likely to make a mess of it. “If you’ll pour, Mummy, I’ll be happy to pass around the cups,” he finally offered in compromise. With a brief nod, she moved to the table and silently began pouring while Frodo went to their guests and gave them a polite bow. “Welcome, Aunt Di,” he greeted. “May I offer you a cup of tea?”

“My dear Frodo, I am perishing for a cup,” Diamond exclaimed breezily as she offered her hand to him.

Squeezing her hand gently, he then turned to the young hobbit lass and asked, “And you, mistress?”

“Yes, please,” she answered soberly and bobbed a brief curtsey.

“Frodo, this is Garnet,” introduced Diamond. “She’s staying with us for awhile.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mistress Garnet,” greeted Frodo with grave politeness. “Welcome to Bag End.”

“Thank you, Master Frodo,” she replied then fell silent once more.

Carefully, Frodo took a cup to each guest, making certain not to slop any tea on the floor or either of them. That done he then brought small tea plates and napkins and offered them a selection of cake and biscuits while the ladies continued their animated conversation.

Gaily, Diamond related all the news from her end of the Shire as Rosie listened with a patient smile for her friend’s enthusiasm. The Mistress of Bag End wondered how Peregrine and Diamond managed to have a conversation, for she could not imagine how either would get a word in edgewise from the other!

While they were all occupied in their various ways, Garnet watched the scene before her with wistful eyes. She missed her mother dreadfully and watching her aunt and the mayor’s wife with their respective children made her long for her even more.

Like most of the Tooks, Pervinca had been sunny and blithe, filled with happy affection for everyone and everything. Garnet, while adoring those traits in her mother, was actually more like her thoughtful and passionate father, Anson. While he aimlessly wandered the Shire on foot brooding for his loss, Garnet was packed up and accepted into the Thain’s home to do the same.

Though Diamond might seem airy and sometimes frivolous to outsiders, those who knew her well understood she was quite keen and had her finger on the pulse of all that went on around her. Garnet had been with them several weeks and the hobbit lady watched her niece grow steadily more despondent. Worried for the child, she decided a change of scenery might be in order and a well-timed note from Peregrine about Rosie being on her own at Bag End set her plans in motion.

“Garnet, my dear,” said Diamond gently, “looks like little Faramir has finally settled in after his tea. Would you mind taking him someplace quiet to sleep?”

“Of course, Aunt Di,” she answered and took the drowsy lad in her arms.

Frodo also stood and immediately said, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where you can lay him down…”

Merely nodding, Garnet waited for her young host to lead the way, which he did solemnly with an air of importance.

After the children were well away, the two ladies chuckled tolerantly at their grave conduct.

“Have you ever seen such two sober children?” smiled Diamond. “Garnet I can understand… she’s gone through a lot these past months, but what is with young Frodo?”

Rosie took a sip of her tea and smiled over her cup, “I sense that Elli has had a hand in that, whispering in her brother’s ear that he is the man of the house while their father is gone. He won’t admit it, but he hangs on her every word and you know my daughter… always acting a good deal older than most of the children her age.”

“Well, I’m sure Frodo was feeling left out with her leaving. It was good of Elli to sense it and give him an important purpose to consider as well.”

“I can’t believe what a little lady she’s turning into, Di,” Rosie shook her head slowly. “One minute she’s a little girl and the next she’s a young woman. It was no easy thing, I tell you, to let her go off to the King and Queen among all the Big Folk. Elli has a tender heart and she’s never experienced disappointment or ridicule.”

Sighing, her friend replied, “We must let them go sometime, Rose. Lucky for me that I still have some time yet for Faramir, but Elessar and Arwen will see that Elli comes to no harm. And her father is there to comfort her.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Rosie agreed, then with a more practical tone asked, “Would you like another cup of tea, my dear?”

“Yes, thank you, Rose! I thought you’d never ask!”


Later that evening Frodo changed back into his work clothes and went outside to finish his evening chores.

He had mucked out the barn earlier, but due to the arrival of their guests, he had done a slip-shod job of it and knew it. If he wanted his mother to be satisfied with his work, he would need to finish it properly and take pains to get it done right.

That finally done he brought in their few animals from the pasture to bed down for the night. Eagerly most of the livestock ambled back to the barn, hungry for their supper. Yet, Glosroch the pretty, white mule that drew their dogcart around the Shire stubbornly refused to be coaxed back to her stall.

The name Glosroch had become a sort of family joke. The mule had been a gift from Éomer, King of the Horselords when Samwise was honored with the position of Mayor of Hobbiton. Elanor was just a young child at the time and insisted upon calling it the prettiest, whitest horse she had ever seen, regardless of the number of times her parents had informed her the animal was merely a mule. It came from the Horselord she reasoned, so it must therefore be a horse. Indulgently Samwise, becoming somewhat learned in the Elvish language by that time, offered up the expressive sobriquet and it rather stuck.

Glosroch continued to be a favorite of Elanor’s and she of the mule’s. Since the hobbit lass’s departure the animal had become more recalcitrant and young Frodo had little patience for her.

“C’mon, Rocky,” he called impatiently to the mule as he tried to pull her along behind him. “Don’t you want your supper?”

As Glosroch dug her heels deeper, refusing to budge, the lad slipped on some mud and ended up on his posterior end with soggy trousers. “Stupid beast,” Frodo murmured under his breath. “Fine! Stand out here and starve then!”

The mule’s answer was a saucy bray and a flick of her thick, stubby tail. Giving the animal a dirty look, Frodo got to his feet, and as he tried in vain to dust off his muddy seat he heard a quiet chuckle.

“You’re making it worse, I’m afraid,” said Garnet with a solemn smile.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Frodo testily.

A brief twinkle gleamed in her green eyes as she replied, “That would be you, I think. Would you like some help?”

He considered ignoring her, but something about the way she smiled at him was pleasant and friendly, despite her sad expression. It was the first time he saw Garnet smile all day, and as that seemed no small feat he replied in kind, “You think you can get her moving?”

He raised a slim eyebrow at her in challenge and the lass moved gingerly to the mule and began stroking her white neck and whispering gently in Glosroch’s long ears.

Gradually the animal moved forward and Garnet continued to murmur sweet cajolery while she led her towards the barn by her harness rather than the lead rope. It only took a few moments and the white mule was in her stall munching contentedly on her grainy supper.

“I’m impressed,” said Frodo truthfully. “You have a way with animals.”

Garnet shrugged, “She just wanted a little flattery. I think this elderly fellow in the next stall has been giving her a time of it.”

“That’s Bill, my father’s pony,” he replied. “He’s getting up there in years and Papa doesn’t want to tax him too much, as he’s been a faithful companion over the years.”

“That explains it,” Garnet said with a soft pat on Glosroch’s rump. “Just give Rocky here some attention every once in awhile and she’ll be more apt to follow along.”

“It’s usually my sister that takes care of her, but with Elli gone for awhile it’s up to me make sure she’s taken care of. Plants, I’m good with… animals are another story, I’m afraid.”

Generously the lass offered, “Well, I’ll help you out while I’m here if you want.”

“I might take you up on that,” Frodo answered with a grateful nod, “at least where Rocky is concerned. When are you due to go back home?”

Suddenly, Garnet’s eyes teared up and she replied tremulously, “I’m not sure I have a home anymore…”

“Oh… hey…” he stepped towards her awkwardly. He was not expecting tears after that cheeky conversation with her. Searching his pockets, he found his handkerchief and offered it to her.

Surprisingly it was clean. Or perhaps not so surprisingly, as Frodo was more likely to use his sleeve as a handkerchief than the folded square of linen tucked in his back pocket.

“Thank you!” she sobbed and dissolved into tears as she buried her face in the handkerchief.

Completely flustered with this turn of events, Frodo merely stood there and waited out her storm of emotion. Once or twice he thought of sneaking out of the barn and leave her be, but he sensed that would make matters worse and so he abided.

Finally as her sobs lessened the lad approached and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder just as he would have done for his sister. “Forgive me, mistress… I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Swallowing back the last of her sobs, Garnet answered, “It’s not your fault. I’ve been holding this back awhile… I try to be brave, Frodo…” her voice trembled, but she controlled her tears, “but it’s so hard… with Mummy dead and Papa so sad and lonely I feel lost…”

Frodo had missed the explanation of Garnet’s presence with Diamond Took, so the news came as a surprise to him. “I’m so sorry, mistress!” The thought of losing his own mother was incomprehensible to Frodo. “So now you live with Aunt Di and Uncle Pip?”

“Yes,” she sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. “At least until my Papa comes home… if he ever comes home…”

Too young yet to know how to comfort such loss and uncertainty, the lad sat on a hay bale with a deep sigh. Garnet joined him on the bale and the pair stared disconsolately out the barn doors to watch the sun set behind the party tree.

Some minutes later Frodo offered, “I’m going to go plant some more bulbs on the hillside tomorrow. You want to help, mistress?”

“All right,” she answered solemnly, “but only if you start calling me Garnet.”

He nodded. “It’s getting cold,” he stated. “We should go in before it gets too dark. Mummy might have something hot and sweet for us to eat after supper.”

Silently the pair stood and headed back into the house firmly established as friends and perhaps looking forward to some fun on the morrow that neither expected a quarter hour earlier.


-end of Chapter Seven-