"You haven't heard the latest rumor going around, have you?" Merry asked when he returned from the Green Dragon to Bag End that evening.
"No," Frodo replied wearily. "Nor do I care to."
Merry knew that Frodo hadn't gone down to the pub with him for precisely this reason, preferring to sit at home and read by the parlor fire than be subjected to the local gossip. Over a week had passed since Bilbo's mysterious disappearance, but it was still the only topic of conversation for miles around. "But this is important, Frodo. I wouldn't bring it to you otherwise."
Frodo lowered his book and looked up at his cousin. When he saw that Merry wasn't joking, he relented. "Oh, all right. Like it or not, I suppose I ought to know what the neighbors are saying. They'd tell tales in your hearing that they wouldn't dare breathe a word of to me." He gave Merry a smile. "We'll add 'rumor-catching' to your list of invaluable services. Thank goodness you've been here--I don't know how I would've gotten through this awful week without you!"
Merry ducked his head, surprised, but pleased, at the compliment. He had stayed on since the birthday party chiefly to keep Frodo company, but he also answered the front door to screen unwelcome visitors, helped Frodo put Bag End back into order, and gave him someone to cuddle up with at night.
"Out with it, Merry. What are they saying now?"
"They're saying that you're responsible for Bilbo's vanishing the way he did," Merry reported. "You've made off with him somehow."
Frodo started up out of his chair. "I've done what-?"
"As I heard it, there was a plot between you and Gandalf to get hold of his money. In the midst of his speech, Gandalf makes him disappear: Poof!" Merry spread his hands out and upward. "Bilbo's gone without a trace and never seen again, and you get everything--Bag End and all Bilbo's property, including what's left of those heaps of dragon's gold."
"Oh, this is really too much! It's those Sackville-Baggins."
"Pimple wasn't even at the Dragon tonight."
"No, Lotho wouldn't be, nor his mother either, but you can be certain that she's the one who thought up this ugly lie, and he's doing his best to help her spread it around. What abomin-able people!" With a disgusted cry, Frodo flung his book to the floor and began to pace the parlor as if he wanted to escape but had nowhere to go. Merry had never seen him so angry before. "It would almost be worth giving them Bag End just to shut them up and let me live in peace." He flopped back into his chair, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. After he had calmed himself, he said, "Merry, let's go away someplace until things quiet down."
"You want to?"
"Why can't we? Right now, I'd welcome nothing more than a few days far from Hobbiton." He began to make plans. "Old Gaffer Gamgee can keep an eye on things here while I'm gone. That will be all right--He and Sam look on the garden as more their pro-perty than mine, and they'll chase off any treasure hunters that might still be hanging around. Where shall we go?"
"You could come back with me to Brandy Hall," Merry offered.
"Thank you, no. I want someplace where I can rest and not have people fussing around me."
"What about one of the cottages on the grounds? Crickhollow? It's far enough from the main house, and there'd be no visitors you didn't want to see. I can write to Mother and ask her to have it made ready for us. She'll be delighted to see you. She was so glad to hear that I'd stayed to look after 'poor, dear Frodo' in his time of need."
They grinned at each other.
"We can walk over," Frodo decided. "It's a two or three day hike. I'll spend a week in Buckland, then hike back. Things ought to have calmed down by the end of October. If not... Well, I'll leave a note so the sheriff will know where I am if he wants to arrest me for Bilbo's murder."
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Getting Away from It All by Kathryn Ramage
Story notes: Like its predecessor, this story is based (very loosely) on situations described in Chapter One of FOTR. However, I'm using the characters' estimated film ages and other film elements.
November 2003
