Scions of the Third Age

After several days a routine began to fall into place at Bag End with the Tooks in residence with the Gamgees. The household was as busy as ever and it fairly buzzed with the hive of activity.

Diamond took over watching the younger children with Garnet to help now and then while Rosie kept up on the mayor’s duties in Samwise’s absence. Frodo continued with his usual chores and when she was free Garnet helped him as well.

Having extra hands to help made the work go quickly so Frodo was able to spend more time on his gardening projects. The hill was finally planted with as many bulbs as the lad could lay his hands on and the last of the fall vegetables had been gathered from their small garden and given over to the ladies to put up for the winter.

Frodo had even found time to start his composting project. He let Garnet in on his plans and she listened to his ideas with interest, but she left him to try out his smelly experiment entirely on his own.

But the day had come, however, to pick fruit from the small orchard that Samwise had cultivated near the new party tree. Rosie told Frodo and Garnet to take two bushel baskets down there and bring back as many luscious, creamy pears as they could carry. After that task was done the rest of the day would be theirs to do as they wished.

Happy to have a holiday of sorts, the pair eagerly grabbed their baskets and ran down to the orchard with nothing more pressing on their minds than sampling as many pears as they picked!

Slowly Garnet was coming back out of her shell. Frodo had even heard her squeal with delight as she ran down the hill and splashed through the little rill that bordered the orchard.

They enjoyed the day off from their regular chores, playing tag, picking fruit and laying in the soft grass as they made short work of their purloined pears. The day was fine, one of the last warm ones before winter set in across the Shire, and they took full advantage of the sunshine and pleasant breezes.

Finally, though, they noticed the sun making its late afternoon descent towards evening and decided it was time to haul the bushels of fruit back up to Bag End.

“This fruit is heavy,” Frodo groaned as he hoisted the basket to his hip.

Garnet grunted agreement over the heavy load. Yet, she had wisely filled her basket only half full and was not having nearly as much trouble as her companion climbing the hill with her burden.

“Here… put some of yours in my basket,” she offered. “I still have plenty of room.”

“That’s all right,” he demurred. “I’ve got it.”

“That’s all right… I’ve got it,” the pair heard a snarky voice repeat.

Before them was a belligerent-looking hobbit lad a few years older then Frodo. He had dun-colored hair and dun-colored eyes to match and his arms were crossed carelessly over his stocky chest.

“Shove off, Ken,” Frodo grimaced. “And take your gang with you. Come on, Garnet. Let’s get these up to the house.”

Having tangled with Ken Sandyman and his toady friends, the lad knew he was at a serious disadvantage.

“Who’s gonna make me, Gamgee?” Ken shoved Frodo in the chest and the smaller lad stumbled back with his burden.

Garnet shot out a hand to steady him and he was saved from falling on his rump. Giving the stocky boy a long, arch look she turned away deliberately and said to her companion, “We should go, Frodo. We’ll be missed, I’m sure.”

“So who’s this orange-haired priss?” the bully taunted. “Do you always let a girl do your talking for you? This one’s even more stuck-up than your snob of a sister.”

Frodo saw tears spring to Garnet’s eyes at the other boy’s teasing. Her ginger-colored hair was a delicate subject for her and her hand stole up unconsciously to smooth it down while her green eyes swept to the ground so Ken could not see them full of tears.

Bravely, Frodo stepped between her and Ken saying, “First of all, my sister is not a snob. She just knows when someone isn’t worth her time and effort.” Ken started to bristle, but the younger lad did not heed the signs and continued, “And secondly, Garnet is not a priss and her hair isn’t orange, so you’d better apologize to her right now.”

“Ha! Like I would listen to you,” Ken barked and the other boys with him laughed as well.

Setting his bushel basket at his feet, Frodo stood proudly and announced, “I mean it, Ken. Apologize to her or I will make you!”

“Frodo, no!” gasped Garnet as Ken strode closer to loom over Frodo.

Gulping slightly, the lad held his ground. "It's all right, Garnet," he said softly. "You'd better stand back though..."

She would have tugged at his arm, but Frodo evaded her grasp as Ken planted himself directly in front of him like a bulwark to be assailed. The smaller lad had to look up the meet the tyrant’s dull gaze, but he would not back down and refused to flinch.

The tension between the two boys hung ominously as each waited for the other to make the first move. While Ken stared hard at Frodo, his gang threw out their own taunts at him as they circled around them.

Ken started to get bored with the staring contest until one of his comrades, a lank ne’er-do-well named Gordo, took matters into his own hands by suddenly grabbing Garnet from behind. Her surprised yelp startled Frodo into wheeling around and Ken saw his chance.

As Frodo turned to help his friend, his foe charged at him and toppled him to the ground, effectively tackling him. More than angry now, the lightweight refused to give the bigger boy the advantage and he did not hesitate to haul off and hit him square in the jaw with a well-placed right hook.

Blood spurted from Ken’s mouth and he stumbled back in dismay. With his opponent distracted for the moment, Frodo went to rescue Garnet who was struggling still in the arms of Gordo. As he reached to grab the wiry boy’s arm, he heard Garnet gasp, “Frodo, look out!”

Wheeling back towards the direction of the wounded Ken, Frodo had little time to react to the jagged rock hurtling his way and felt the sharp projectile connect painfully just over his left ear. The force of the rock staggered him and Frodo sank heavily to the ground in a haze of blood and agony.

“No! Frodo, are you all right?!” cried Garnet helplessly. When she got no answer from her friend, she determinedly renewed her struggle to get free, finally punching Gordo right between the eyes saying, “Get off me, orc-breath!”

There was a satisfying-sounding crack that Garnet realized was the boy’s nose breaking beneath her fist. As blood speckled his shirtfront, the boy looked at her in stunned outrage, but instead of retaliating Gordo ran off towards home.

Meanwhile the other boys started to close in on her and Garnet seized the only other weapon she had at hand – the pears!

Grabbing up an armful, she started pelting the bullies with the fruit as hard as she could. Her aim was good and the pears still firm enough to hurt as they connected with their targets. Soon all the boys except for Ken had run away.

“I could hurt you,” Ken threatened as he inched closer to her.

Defiantly, she replied, “Go ahead and try,” though she retreated a step or two as he approached.

Completely focused on Garnet, the thuggish boy did not noticed that Frodo was watching him, waiting for a moment to get the upper hand again. It finally came as Ken started to step over Frodo’s prone form on the ground. Just as the older boy lifted his foot, Frodo tripped him and Ken fell over spectacularly and rolled a little ways away down the slight incline of the hill.

For a moment both Frodo and Garnet thought he might attack them both, but to their surprise, after one more long, hard stare at them the bully got up and beat a hasty retreat.

Instantly, Garnet was at Frodo’s side and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Aww…” he answered testily, “it’s nothing. Don’t fuss at me, Garnet…”

Hurt, she replied, “Fine then…” and stalked off a few paces to try to salvage some of the pears.

Frodo struggled to get to his feet to help her, for his mother would be expecting the pears regardless of the circumstances of the delay in their delivery. Yet, as he stood erect a wave of dizziness hit him, blinding him in a swirl of red then gray then black.

Hearing a heavy thud in the grass behind her, Garnet wheeled to find Frodo back on the ground, lying in a swoon. As she drew near him again, she saw blood trickling down the front of his left ear and she stooped to look at it.

The lad moaned at her touch, but did not regain consciousness. Probing his sandy curls, she quickly found a gash above his ear that was moist with blood, but now beginning to clot.

Quickly, the lass ran to the nearby rill and then stopped suddenly to look on her person for something to clean up the wound and then bind it. Thrusting her small hands in her pinafore pockets, Garnet found the handkerchief that Frodo had loaned her. She had tried to return it to her friend on several occasions, but he always shrugged it off and told her to keep it as he had little use for it.

Well, she had good use for it now and bent to soak it in the cool water of the rill. When she returned to Frodo’s side, she cleaned up the wound as best she could then rinsed out the handkerchief and refolded it to serve as a bandage. As she fastened it into place with a strip of her pinafore ruffle, Frodo began to come around again moaning quietly as he sensed her ministrations.

“Hush, Frodo,” she said gently. “I’m almost done…”

“We need to get home,” he said weakly. “Mummy is not going to be happy about the pears…”

“No,” she agreed. “But she will understand.”

“She gets angry when I fight.”

“I wish we could say that we could’ve avoided it, Frodo. But Ken and his friends weren’t going to let us.”

“No, I suppose not. She’ll be angry in any case, and she’ll punish me for sure. I doubt I get to see the light of day for a month…”

Wistfully, Garnet said, “Well, for a few days anyway. You’re going to be laid up, Frodo. Head wounds are nothing to mess with.”

“I’ll be fine once I catch my breath…”

It took the pair half an hour to get up the hill, which was normally a five-minute jaunt. Frodo had to stop every few minutes to “catch his breath.” He finally let Garnet lend him an arm when he could no longer stand on his own, and together they struggled through the front gate at last.

“Bless the Valar!” exclaimed Diamond as she met the pair at the door. “What has happened, children?”

“Long story,” Garnet grunted as she shifted Frodo’s almost dead weight to a more comfortable spot on her shoulder. “He’s hurt, Aunt Di, and needs his mother…”

Joining them, Diamond put her arm under Frodo’s other arm and they steered him into the parlor where he could lay on a divan softened with half a dozen squishy pillows.

Rosie heard them come in and stepped into the parlor from the kitchen to scold them, “Where have you two been? It’s nearly dusk…”

Her tirade was cut short at the sight of her son sprawled on the divan with a bandaged head and pale complexion. Rosie’s own face was instantly drained of color as she rushed across the room to kneel at his side.

“Rose, where do you keep your healing herbs and linens?” asked Diamond practically.

Distractedly, the mayor’s wife answered, “Umm… kitchen… in the small pantry… Frodo, where else are you hurt, luv?”

“I’m all right, Mummy,” he tried to assure her bravely. “I’m just a little dizzy…” Suddenly his face took on a funny expression, which Rosie knew meant he was about to loose his stomach.

Quickly she grabbed a large bowl of fruit sitting on the low table nearby and dumped the contents onto the floor at her feet. Just in time she got the basin to Frodo as he vomited up all the pears and his lunch from earlier.

Diamond walked into the room with supplies, including a basin of warm water and towels. She took the other bowl from her friend and started to make her way back to the kitchen when she noticed Garnet standing in the middle of the room with a stricken expression.

“Come with me, dear,” said the Thain’s wife. “You can tell me what happened while I get you cleaned up.”

Meekly, the lass followed her aunt and sat in the chair near the hearth that Diamond indicated on her way to dispose of the bowl’s contents. Garnet sank in the deep chair and closed her eyes, but the scene of the fight with the bullying gang filled her mind. Realizing how lucky she had been to get off so easily, she began to weep gently. Frodo had not been so lucky and she felt badly that her small honor was saved by his courage.

“Please let him be all right…” she cried.

“I’m sure Frodo will be just fine after some rest, sweeting,” said Diamond when she heard her niece’s lament. Suddenly noticing blood splattered all over the girl’s torn pinafore, she asked breathlessly, “Garnet, is any of this blood yours? Are you hurt somewhere?”

Wiping her tears with her sleeve as she had given up the handkerchief to bind Frodo’s head, the lass answered, “I’m not hurt. I broke a boy’s nose.”

“Good gracious! What have the pair of you been up to? You’d better give up the tale, my dear, before we have angry parents pounding on the door.”

Dutifully, Garnet related what had happened in the orchard to her aunt. Diamond relaxed a little when she realized that the pair had not instigated the fight and smoothed some of the girl’s coppery hair out of her face with a motherly gesture with a deep sigh.

“We really didn’t start the fight, Aunt Di,” she assured her breathlessly, “and Frodo was so brave to stand up for me. I wouldn’t have hit that boy except that he wouldn’t let go and I was afraid for Frodo.”

“Well, it’s unfortunate that it came to blows. Fighting doesn’t solve anything, Garnet, but it does rather seem that these boys gave you little choice.”

“Do you really think Frodo will be all right, Aunt Di?”

“A few days rest, luv, and he’ll be good as new. I promise,” answered Diamond. “Now sit back in that chair and I’ll find you something to eat for your supper.”


The two hobbit ladies watched over Frodo throughout the night, making sure his slumber did not slip into something deeper and unreachable. Yet, the lad had a hard head and by morning they were fairly certain of a speedy recovery.

They let Garnet sit with him in the morning so Rosie could rest and Diamond could get the day started around the house. Frodo still slept somewhat fitfully, but color had returned to his cheeks at last.

Sun was streaming brightly into the bedroom to shine on the lad’s face and a cool breeze wafted through the window to make her shiver. Getting up to shut the window, Garnet was startled to hear, “Don’t shut it just yet, if you don’t mind. The fresh air feels good.”

“Frodo!” she breathed. “You’re awake! Are you all right?”

“Aw, I’m all right, Garnet,” he answered. “Gordo and Ken didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No, just my feelings… but that was silly of me. I can’t help what color my hair is and those boys were just being mean on purpose. I should learn to ignore comments like that.”

“Ken makes trouble wherever he goes,” explained Frodo. “I don’t pay too much attention to what he says, but I’m sorry he made you cry. And for what it’s worth, I think your hair is pretty.”

“Really?” Garnet brightened and the lad nodded gingerly. “Thanks for sticking up for me, Frodo.”

“You didn’t do too badly on your own. That was some punch you gave Gordo!”

Slyly she grinned, “Hopefully he and Ken and their cronies won’t be bothering us any time soon.”

Both hobbit children laughed heartily, sharing a moment that cemented their solidarity in the days and years to come. Rosie and Diamond overheard their happy laughter and both sighed in relief. Giving each other a knowing glance, Rosie then said to her friend, “They’ll be all right.”

“Indeed they will,” agreed Diamond.


-end of Chapter Eight-