Frodo and Ferdinand

It was gentle nights filled with songs and stories, which Frodo grew to thoroughly enjoy. It was a change that he had not expected, but now that he had lived it some time, welcomed with open arms. It wasn't till he woke up one day and Perry was nowhere to be found that he realised how much he had grown used to her company. He searched all through Bag Hall, which took some searching since it was so deep within the hill, and he grew puzzled. He walked out, and toddled down New Row, knocking on Sam Gamgee's door.

The door swung open and the smiling face of Rosie Gamgee welcomed Frodo. Her stomach was growing larger thanks to the baby, and she absently ran her fingertips in circles over the shape of her belly.

"Well, hello Mr. Frodo!" she said, bright and welcoming as always. "Don't you look lovely this morning?"

Rosie was always full of compliments and sweetness; it wasn't a surprise to Frodo at all that Sam was so taken with her. He blushed a little and shrugged.

"I - uh…" For the first time in years, Frodo found himself stumbling on his own words. "Have you seen Miss Perry this morning?"

A knowing smile spread across Rosie's face, and she folded her arms. "I saw her head off into town this morning, Mr. Frodo. I'm sure she would have left ye a message of some sort."

Frodo scratched his chin, turning and looking back towards Bag End. "I didn't see one…"

"Goodness," tutted Rosie. She stepped out, closing the door behind her, and patted Frodo's shoulder. "Come on then, Mr. Frodo. Let's go have a look, shall we?"

She took him back to Bag Hall, and the first place they looked was the kitchen. It came up bare, so Rosie thought that the mantle would be a good place to check next. Strangely, there was nothing there as well.

"Your bedroom," Rosie said. She tottered off down the hall, and she opened the door to his room wide. "Ah Hah!" She bent down behind the door, scratching at something behind it. "Oh come on - let me pick you up, silly piece of paper!" As Frodo made his way down the main hall, Rosie appeared from behind his door, wagging a folded slip of paper in the air. "Was this there before, Mr. Frodo?"

"No," said Frodo, stopping in front of her. Rosie handed him the paper and folded her arms. Frodo opened it, and read it. "Dear Mr. Baggins… went out into Hobbiton to buy some supplies and visit Mother Proudfoot. Will be back before afternoon tea. Miss Perry."

"There we go," said Rosie, patting Frodo on the shoulder again. "Nothing to worry about - she's just off to the market."

"Yes…" Frodo nodded.

Rosie left him to his devices then, and Frodo stepped to his table of writing in the sitting room that was in front of the fire-place and before the large window that looked out onto Hobbiton. Strangely, he felt somehow useless, and didn't really know what to do with himself. He pulled out some of his maps, just to read them for idle interest, but they brought too many uncomfortable memories, so he slipped them away again. He stood to go make himself some breakfast, but he didn't find himself all that hungry. He had a part of a sesame cake and some tea. Frodo had just settled down in front of his latest writings in his Red Book when a dark shape burst in from the windows and landed on the only bare spot on the table deftly. Frodo almost leapt back, and clutching his chest he tried to calm himself enough to see what had intruded, what he partly knew had intruded in the very back of his mind.

On the table Ferdinand narrowed his eyes at Frodo, winking and lifting his short but elegant muzzle at the hobbit.

"Ferdinand," Frodo sighed, sitting again, "You almost scared the daylights out of me…" He sat. "And you nearly knocked over my tea. Now get off the table. Shoo!"

Ferdinand let out a light grunt and jumped off the table stiffly, sniffing the air about him. He toed over to Frodo, nudging his leg, letting out a low mowling.

"Yes, I know," Frodo said. "Miss Perry is off to the market today."

"Mruff," muttered Ferdinand.

"Indeed," Frodo said. "I'm sure I shall look forward to her return as well."

Ferdinand proceeded to make himself comfortable at Frodo's feet in a striped ball, slipping off into cat slumbers. The cat was large to a hobbit, and even by the standards of Men was sizable. His large muscular tomcat weight on Frodo's feet left Frodo quite incapable of standing and walking anywhere. He was rather stuck. There weren't many things a hobbit could do whilst left stationary by a sixteen pound feline, as Frodo found out. He smoked his pipe, and he drank his tea (slowly), and he nibbled at his sesame cake (also slowly). He tried to amuse himself with his writing, but he found himself feeling lonely more often than not. Even Sam Gamgee passing by his window on the odd occasion didn't leave him feeling satisfied.

Sam finally stopped around lunchtime to say hello to his Master.

"Mr. Frodo," he said, "You haven't moved from that window in hours."

Frodo frowned. "No Sam, I've… well… I've been quite unable to."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "Oh Mr. Frodo! Are you unwell? Are your legs working?! Oh let me help you!" The scruffy mousy-brown haired hobbit was all but climbing in the window. Frodo chuckled, leaning back.

"Oh that's two climbing in the window today instead of using the door!"

Sam was halfway in when he lifted a brow in question. "Sir?"

"Ferdinand jumped in this morning, and is now quite at home on my feet."

"Oh!" Sam scrabbled out of the window and ran around and in the front door. He toddled into the lounge-room, and upon seeing the snoozing cat, shook his head dourly. "That cat! He's a naughty sort, I tell you! Always widdling on my roses and scratching the fence posts till the paint's all gone!"

Frodo smiled, leaning down and patting the cat. "He's a cat, and cats do these things, Sam."

"Yes Sir," Sam said. He tilted his head. "Pardon me for askin', Sir, but why don't ye just kick him out of ye way?"

"I've tried that, Sam," said Frodo, looking at the cat. "He's too heavy - he's right on my feet."

Sam nodded and slapped his hands together, rubbing them vigourously. "Right! I'll move him!"

"Careful, don't scare him!"

Sam knelt down in front of the tom, gingerly prying his fingers under the heavy animal. "Come now, Ferdinand. Mr. Frodo isn't your pillow!" The cat let out a deep disgruntled ruff, and thinking Sam was playing with him, grabbed at the hand at his belly and sunk in his claws. "OW! Owww! Let me go you beast!" The cat dragged his teeth over the skin of Sam's hand very lightly, and then after a moment began to lick them fully, rasping his big spiky tongue over the tanned flesh and purring deeply.

"Seems as though he likes you, Sam."

Sam sighed with a frown. "Perhaps so, Mr. Frodo, but he hasn't moved." Sam sat down on his bottom under the table, arms around the large animal and pulling at it, trying to avoid another play fight. After a moment Ferdinand grew tired of all the fussing about, and he got up, rather indignantly, and toed his way over to the hearth of the large fireplace, collapsing onto the ground gracelessly and falling asleep again. Sam shook his head in wonder. "That cat could fall asleep in the arms of a dragon!"

"I don't doubt that," smiled Frodo.

Sam crawled out from under the table and sat across from Frodo. "Rosie tells me Miss Perry is out today."

"Yes," said Frodo, folding his arms and looking at the mess that was his writing table. "I've been rather at a loss all morning."

Sam covered his mouth with his hand, as if wringing a smile from his lips, and nodded. "Well, yes Sir, as is natural when you grow used to certain company."

Frodo knew Sam was humouring him. He eyed Sam a moment, and then shook his head. "You're a cheeky fellow, Samwise Gamgee. Very cheeky."

Sam blushed. "Yes, that's what the Missus says, she does, but I think she rather likes it Sir."

"I'm not sure I want to know," said Frodo, looking away. As he did, and looked out the window, he saw a movement down the road. His heart leapt in his chest at seeing the familiar colours of the flowery dress that his maid-servant wore often. Sam noticed Frodo's eyes suddenly twinkling, and he followed where his Master was looking, and again found himself battling smiles and grins.

"Well, I better get back to rebuildin' that wall, Sir." Sam stood, waving to Frodo before shuffling off out the door.

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