Author: Sam

Story: The Road Goes Ever On And On: 17 of ?

Series: n/a

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

When Bilbo returned late in the evening, he was worried. The hole was dark, not a single candle lit that he could see. There was no smell of food, no sound of anyone moving about... not even the warmth of a fire in the grate. The night was warm and fine, but still the lack bothered the aged Hobbit. He fumbled to light a candle, then, shielding it, made his way down the hall towards the sitting room. What he found there disturbed him even more.

There in a comfortable chair sat Frodo. The fireplace held dying embers, the candles were burnt down to pools of wax, and a forgotten honey-coated book lay in the nineteen-year-old's lap. Frodo sat staring into the nothingness, unaware that his solitude had just been intruded upon.

Normally, upon seeing the degraded family album, Bilbo would have been upset and scolding severely. However, at his ward's stillness scared him and the book was forgotten for the moment. The aged Hobbit made his soft, silent way into the room. Frowning at his nephew's inattentive pose, he stirred the fire to a cheery blaze, adding wood to keep it going. Adding his candle to the side-table, Bilbo finally turned and reached out to touch his nephew's cold, pale face.

The contact made the boy jump, and he turned haunted eyes up to his cousin. "Bilbo! I... I didn't hear you come in... I..." He glanced around, becoming aware of the chill and dark. Odd blue eyes fell on the destruction of the book in his hands, and Frodo looked guiltily up at Bilbo. "I'm sorry. I dropped honey on your book. I'll... I'll clean it up." The last was said in a rush. Frodo jumped to his feet before his guardian could protest and hurried from the room.

Bilbo frowned and shook his head. It was most obvious that the book wasn't what was bothering his adopted nephew. Something far more disturbing had happened at Bag End while the master had been away.

Frodo was worried. It had been a week and still Bilbo hadn't mentioned to him any confrontation with Halfred. The Gaffer hadn't said a word, either... and Halfred wasn't in Hobbiton anymore. The situation was enough to drive anyone over the edge, and it was starting to show on Frodo. He was jumpy, waiting for the time when he was ordered, beyond all shadow of a doubt, to leave Samwise Gamgee totally alone.

With that horrible occurrence yet hanging over his head, the teenager couldn't concentrate. He constantly wandered back and forth between rooms in the cozy Hobbit Hole, stopping wherever Bilbo happened to be, but moving on if his old cousin noticed. He wrung his hands and refused his food, losing weight that he could little afford to be without. Frodo was starting to get ill, in fact.

There was nothing the dark haired Hobbit could think of that would have made Halfred threaten him with taking away Sam's friendship. Every rule that had been put forward, concerning the unusual companions, had been followed by the pair. Frodo stayed inside while Sam worked. He studied hard and Sam worked hard. Neither of them had done anything other Hobbits didn't do... at least, not that Frodo Baggins was aware of. Whatever Halfred thought was going on eluded the studious young Hobbit completely.

Now, he had to face Sam's family at the younger Hobbit's eighth birthday party.

Getting dressed was harder than even the time he'd been trying to impress Larkspur Whitfoot. After all, she hadn't come back to Hobbiton since, so he'd given up on glancing out his window at odd moments to catch a glimpse. She was up in Michel Delving with her family. This time, instead of trying to impress a pretty lass, Frodo was trying to impress his best friend's family... and knew that fine clothes weren't the way to go about it.

It made dressing all the harder... because he wasn't sure exactly how to dress to impress an eight-year-old boy's hard working family... and just why he was trying to in the first place. After all, he'd done nothing wrong. And this was leading in circles again... just as it had all week.

"Not ready yet, my boy?"

The aged voice, amused and kind, made Frodo jump and whirl around. "Bilbo!" He glanced around hurriedly, a guilty look to his face. "Um... I was thinking."

With a sage nod, Bilbo Baggins, made his way into the room. He slipped onto his cousin's bed and watched him, still hiding his worry behind gentle amusement. "Not that I hold against thinking, lad... but there is such a thing as too much thinking. What's been troubling you, my boy?" The elderly Hobbit hoped his ward would at last confide in him.

Frodo sank onto the bed next to his cousin. "I... I was thinking... maybe the Gamgee's don't want me at Sam's party?" He wanted to cry as soon as the words were out. Not see Sam on his eighth birthday when he'd been there every special day since the lad was born?

Apparently Bilbo thought along the same lines. "Disturbed about Halfred's anger and disappearance, Frodo?"

"What!" The teen whirled so fast he actually hit Bilbo in the nose accidentally. Fortunately there was no blood, merely bruising. "Oh! Bilbo... I'm sorry! Truly I am. I didn't mean..."

With a choked laugh, hand covering his abused flesh, the ninety-seven-year old Hobbit playfully glared at his cousin through tear filled eyes. "Oh ho! Now you're attacking a helpless old Hobbit, are you? We'll see about that, my lad!" And the deceptively young-looking Bilbo let go his nose to start tickling young Frodo.

Much laughter and shrieks ensued from the room in Bag End.

After several moments catching their breath, the Hobbits glanced at each other and grinned in exhausted happiness. Bilbo nodded and slapped his knees once before rising. "So, finish dressing and do something about that unruly mop you call hair, and we'll be on our way, lad."

Frodo nodded, grinning back, and started to obey. He watched his uncle slip from the room but called out before the door could close entirely. "Uncle Bilbo? What did you mean I was worried about Halfred?"

The smile slowly left the older Hobbit's face and he sighed, seeming to droop at the query. Reluctantly, he turned back to face his young relative, eyes serious where moments ago they had been filled with glee. He sighed again. "What do you want me to say, my lad? What is it that troubles you?"

"I..." Frodo sighed as well. Looking up, he tried to get Bilbo to understand, his eyes pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Bilbo, I'm sure of it. But Halfred said I had and that he was telling you and Gaffer so that Sam could never come near me again. He said I hurt Sam." He wanted to crumple into a heap with the renewed worries, feeling so much younger than his nineteen years.

Bilbo nodded. "He came to me last week, Frodo. In fact, I was talking with Gaffer when he showed up." The younger Hobbit leaned forward in a mix of curiosity and dread as his relative continued. "He told us, in no uncertain terms, mind you, that you'd been... touching Sam in the wrong places and plan to take him away where no one will find him."

"Touching Sam in... what?" Frodo's blue eyes widened in horrified shock and he shook his head violently. "No! I'd never hurt Sam, Bilbo! I... I wouldn't do something like that... why would anyone?" Anguish rolled from his voice as the lad collapsed back onto his bed, confusion and pain in every gesture. "Who would do that... and why say I'd kidnap him?"

With a sigh, the elderly Hobbit walked into the room and sat next to his adopted nephew. He slid an arm around trembling shoulders, giving him a brief hug. "No one has hurt Sam that I know of, Frodo. Halfred thought you were too close and jumped to an odd conclusion, is all."

Head snapping up, nearly knocking into his cousin's, Frodo shook his head. "All? That's all? Uncle Bilbo, if he spreads that around, I'll never be allowed around Sam again! And... and the other Hobbits wouldn't want me around, either." The brunette jumped to his feet, starting to pace restlessly, worry and hurt consuming his thoughts. "Why did Halfred think I'd do something to Sam, Bilbo? And... and does Gaffer believe him?" The last question accompanied pain-filled eyes turning on the older Hobbit.

It was a long moment before the brown-haired Hobbit replied.

"No. Gaffer didn't believe it, but he was worried. Halfred and Gaffer both think your friendship with such a little child odd."

"But, I..."

Bilbo raised a hand. "Now, Frodo, I know you're only friends. And Gaffer believes it, too. But Halfred thought you had some twisted ideas running about your head. He was right to bring them up, lad, but his ideas weren't correct." The elder Hobbit lightly touched Frodo's arm, bringing the pacing to a halt. Their eyes met.

After another long pause, Frodo finally hunched his shoulders, seeming to pull in on himself. "I don't understand why he thought that, Bilbo. I'd never hurt Sam. He's just a baby, really. He's a good twenty-five years from coming of age..." Frodo's eyes widened and he glanced at Bilbo suddenly. "And even if Sam were of age, Bilbo, he's a boy like me..."

With a nod, Bilbo headed out the bedroom door, hearing Frodo following behind. "Yes, that's what worries the Gaffer. He knows you wouldn't hurt Sam right now... but he's worried you're getting too attached. He thinks you may be one of those rare Hobbits who do like... the same gender..."

Frodo halted, eyes wide and troubled. Slowly, softly, he asked, "and you, Bilbo? Do you think I'm twisted, too?"

His cousin whirled around and startled him by pulling him into a strong hug.

"No! You're not twisted, Frodo, any way you look at it. Halfred was worried about Sam, and has been told by us that there's no worry. He went to Michel Delving for a bit, but is coming home for the party, so I want you to try to forgive him. He's only worried about Sam, you know."

"Bilbo, you're not answering me." Frodo frowned at his cousin and crossed his arms. "You say I'm not twisted, but you change the subject. You do think I like boys, don't you?"

The elder Hobbit laughed and shook his head, but the sound wasn't as merry as normally it would be. "Boys? No, Frodo, I think you might like other males... but not boys." He watched as his cousin's expression grew more fierce.

"It's the same thing, Bilbo!" Frodo whirled, ramming a hand through his mussed dark curls and heading towards the front door. He'd forgotten all about getting changed and so was still in his daywear. "You think I'm twisted!"

Bilbo grabbed his adopted nephew's arm. "No, I do not." His voice was firm, but quiet. It caused the lad to turn and listen. "Liking other males is... not normal for a Hobbit, true. But, Frodo, it does happen. Just as some females like other females. I've seen it before in my long life, and I'll see it again, I've no doubt."

"But..."

Holding up a hand once more, Bilbo continued, ignoring any protest the teen might make. "Listen to me carefully, Frodo, and remember these words well, for I'll not say them again as long as we live. I like other males more than females. The thing is, you best keep it secret. It's not easy to hide the interest. Other lads are able to look and flirt all they want. But Hobbits like me... like us... Frodo, have to keep it inside."

The admission stunned the lad more than any other might have. He blinked and stared at his cousin in wonder. As he stared, though, he thought about himself... if these words truly applied to him, as well. It didn't... it wasn't right, and he shook his head, pushing away the small doubts and answers.

"I know you wouldn't hurt Sam, Frodo. You aren't twisted. But, if you like males, you'll have to wait for another like us to show up. Sam... Sam may not be like us, and you must let him make his own choices when he comes of age." Bilbo sighed and let go of his cousin's arm, adding, "and if he is like us, he has to learn to keep it secret as well."

Frodo sighed, trying to take in everything Bilbo said and hinted at. He wanted to protest the words, the ideas behind them; he loved the Shire, why would he leave? But, somewhere deep inside, the young Hobbit knew Bilbo was right. Turning, the brunet headed back towards his room to get ready for his best friend's birthday party, wondering if it might, despite his uncle's reassurances, be the last.