Disclaimer: I don’t own Tolkien’s characters, only Tansy.

Pairing: Frodo/ OC

Other characters: Rosie, the Cotton family, Sam, Bilbo, Merry and Pippin

Category: Drama, romance and angst

Chapter Three: Tea, seed cakes and the Green Dragon

Tansy Puddifoot sat on the edge of her bed. She vigorously rubbed her hands together while staring at the door, as if she was expecting a visitor. Well, there was someone–Rosie. Tansy had been a guest at the Cotton home for a week now and although she hoped for a warm welcome, there had been nothing but tension in the home. When Rosie was gone, especially during the times she worked at the Green Dragon, Tansy sensed Farmer Cotton and Lily’s reservations about her being there. And then there were his sons. They would often stare at her in a way that sent uneasy shivers through her body. They didn’t have to say it; their eyes could not hide what they thought of her…

*You’re odd*

Tansy desperately wanted to tell them what she saw in their eyes.

*And why do you think I’m odd? Because I’m a Puddifoot? Because I don’t have much to say at the table when we’re eating?*

She hated the waiting, stirring her heart into a frantic race. And the more Tansy waited, the more she shivered from her enemy that had been anxiety.

*Where is she?*

She perked and her eyes widened at the sound of voices resonating from the parlor. Following the voices were footsteps that neared the door and when they stopped, Tansy sighed with relief at Rosie who entered the room.

“Tansy,” said Rosie, closing the door behind her. “I’m sorry I was gone long.”

Concerned, Rosie rushed over to her new friend and sat down beside her.

“You’re shivering. What’s wrong? Are you not well again?”

“I’m fine,” Tansy pretended and grinned sheepishly. “I just–,” she couldn’t finish what she wanted to say, breathing out a frustrated sigh.

“You’re worried about my visit with your family.”

Tansy nodded.

“Well, they know where you are. I told them you’re safe here but you want to go home.”

Rosie waited for Tansy to respond, and after a few seconds of silence, Rosie continued. “It seemed to me, your mother wants you to come home, but your father…I’m sorry, Tansy.”

“So what happens now?” Tansy replied and flustered.

“First, you need to get dressed. My parents want to talk to you and then we’ll leave. I know you’ve been bored here…”

There was a sparkle in Tansy’s soft brown eyes. “Will you take me to see Hobbiton?”

“I promised did I not?”

“Yes, you did!”

Rosie extended her fingers up to Tansy’s bangs. She played with them, scrunching them a little until they became fluffy curls that spiraled a few inches above her eyebrows.

“There, that’s better.” Rosie stood and crossed over to the closet, opened both doors and whisked out a dress.

Slowly, Tansy rose from the bed. She stared at the sunflower-yellow dress and marveled at its beauty. A blue sash streamed around the waist, and in the back, the sash entwined itself into a bow that flowed delicately along the embroidered fabric. There were more ribbons, two that hugged the ruffled sleeves.

Tansy, still awed, glided over to the dress. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

Her fingers lightly touched the fabric. “Not even the dresses I’ve worn are like this.”

“I’m glad you like it, because it’s yours.”

Stunned, Tansy shook her head. “Mine?”

“Yes. Well, you can’t go out in your nightdress now can you?”

Tansy blushed. “Thank you, Rosie.”

“You better get dressed and after you do, come join us in the parlor.”

Rosie smiled as she opened the door, leaving Tansy to get dressed. But when she closed the door behind her, Rosie’s smile faded from her lips. She recalled her visit at the Puddifoot home and the anger Tansy’s parents expressed had been unmistakable. Frodo was not alone in what he pondered. Rosie herself found this whole thing baffling. Time after time, her thoughts wrestled with why her parents refused to accept her back home. And when she questioned them about it, they insisted she leave and didn’t want to discuss it any further. Careful not to exhaust herself of the situation, Rosie shrugged it off and had gone to the parlor.

Before Tansy opened the door, she gazed down at her dress, feeling suddenly regal. And then her fears returned. They were waiting for her.

*I have to go. Let this be over with*

She left the room, shuffling her way into the parlor. Everyone was there: Farmer Cotton, Lily, Rosie and her brothers. They were busy chatting until she entered the parlor.

Tansy stood in front of them, at the moment, wishing she had been back home.

Farmer Cotton walked up to her, crossing his arms behind his back.

“Tansy, I’ve been doing lots of thinking since you’ve been here. I hoped your parents welcomed you back ‘home’ where you belong. Well, that hasn’t happened. So I’ve made my decision and you can stay here. But…as long as you’re here, you have chores to do along with everyone else. You’re no different. And if ever that day comes when the Puddifoots want you back, you go. Understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Cotton,” Tansy answered humbly. “Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”

She lowered her head, too ashamed to look at them and kept her eyes on the tiled floor.

“Tansy,” said Rosie in her usual gentle voice. “Let’s be off now.”

Tansy desperately wanted to escape the tense atmosphere in the home, and after hearing what Rosie said, she rushed toward the woman who was like a sister to her.

Rosie took a powder-blue cloak off the peg, wrapped it around Tansy’s shoulders and fastened it until the cloak was secure.

Outside, a horse and wagon had been prepared for them.

Eager to visit Hobbiton, Tansy bounded inside the wagon. Rosie followed her and once she was settled, the horse began its journey down the lane.

“So, this is Hobbiton!” said Tansy excitedly.

Underneath the wagon, wheels squeaked as it hiked across the Mill Bridge that led them into Hobbiton.

Rosie watched the young lass seemingly sheltered most of her life. And so it delighted her to see Tansy amazed at a place she had never seen. Once they were in Hobbiton, folk scurrying about had welcomed Rosie with a cheerful hello. Some waved and some while they cheered, shot a puzzled glance at Tansy.

Those looks made her quite uncomfortable, inciting Tansy to ask Rosie…

*Do they know who I am?*

She moved her lips but stopped the words from spoiling the joy of what she saw around her

“We’re at Bagshot Row,” Rosie announced.

Tansy noticed Rosie beamed after saying those words, and when she looked at the hobbit homes, one particular stout hobbit stood outside his home.

“Who is he?” asked Tansy.

“Samwise Gamgee,” Rosie boasted with a flirty grin. “He’s Bilbo Baggins’ gardener.”

Sam raced toward the wagon, which Rosie expected him to do. She yanked the reigns, slowing the horse until the wagon slowly halted.

“Hello, Rosie!” He cheered. His eyes darted toward Tansy.

“Hello, Sam.”

She chuckled quietly at his curiosity concerning Tansy, and though she guessed he had known she was the lass everyone in Hobbiton gossiped about, Rosie wanted to properly introduce her.

“Sam, this is Tansy Puddifoot. She’s staying with us now.”

Sam bowed his head a little and grinned. “A pleasure meeting you, Miss Puddifoot.”

“Hello,” Tansy barely uttered.

Sam shifted his attention back to Rosie. “I’ll tell Bilbo you’re here!”

“Wait…Sam!” Rosie called but he had already gone, scuttling down the hill.

Rosie turned to gaze at Tansy. “Well, now we’re off to Bag End and because Sam went off to tell Bilbo we’re coming, we better pay him a visit.”

Suddenly, fear etched itself on Tansy’s face.

“Tansy?” said Rosie, concerned. “It’s all right. Bilbo loves visitors–and his nephew, Frodo.”

The wagon began to move again.

Tansy’s heart pummeled wildly.

The Bagginses–although she had never met them, she heard they were a high-class family in Hobbiton. What is a Puddifoot to do at the home of a Baggins?

The doorbell chimed several times.

“I’m coming!” said Bilbo as he hurried through the parlor. “Dear me, who is it?”

Frodo wasn’t far behind and hesitated a few feet away when Bilbo opened the door.

“Sam? Oh, it’s you. I expected someone else the way you rang that bell.”

“Sorry, Sir. I wanted to tell you that Rosie is on her way here, but she’s not alone.”

“No? Who is she traveling with?”

By then, a curious Frodo joined his uncle.

Sam continued. “It’s the lass who’s staying with the Cottons.”

“Oh! Splendid!” Bilbo cheered. “Frodo, get the tea ready and…ah, yes, seed cakes.”

Bewildered and unprepared for this visit, the gentle hobbit frowned.

“Hmm…” mumbled Frodo. “It’s not like Rosie to come with a visitor without telling us first.” He tried to make sense of the situation and then his eyes widened, meeting Sam’s gaze that told him a different story. “Sam, what did you do?”

“Me? Why, Mr. Frodo, I haven’t done anything. I saw Rosie up at Bagshot Row and figured you and Bilbo would want to see Rosie…and the lass who’s staying with them.”

“Oh? Now she’s staying with them.”

“That’s what Rosie said.”

Frodo smirked and shook his head. “Well, at least now I know why Rosie is here.”

“Mr. Frodo, no need to get yourself in an uproar about this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re upset about Rosie bringing Tansy along.”

Defensive again, Frodo crossed his arms and slammed them against his chest.

“Tansy, that’s her name?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m not upset, just–annoyed because we’re not prepared.”

“Nonsense! Frodo, we have enough for a tea party. Come, help me with the tea and seed cakes.”

Frodo sighed and followed Bilbo toward the pantry, leaving Sam behind who shot a quizzical glance at his friend.

At the sound of a wagon coming to a squeaking halt, and the gate that swung open, Sam peeked through the crack of the door.

“They’re here,” he announced.

After Frodo quickly set the table with cups, plates and a platter of seed cakes, fruit and other tasty pastries, he rushed over to Bilbo’s side. They waited not far from the table and watched as Sam opened the door.

“Thank you, Sam,” said Rosie politely as she entered.

Frodo expected to see Tansy but he only saw Rosie.

*I thought Sam said…*

And then, he caught a glimpse of Miss Puddifoot. Her pudgy face peeked timidly inside the Baggins home.

“It’s all right,” Rosie assured her. “Come in.”

And now Frodo saw more than just her face. He wasn’t sure if the cloak she wore and the yellow dress made her appear bigger, or she really was indeed plump, more than any other lass he had seen in Hobbiton.

“Tansy Puddifoot,” said Rosie, with her hand on Tansy’s back, she nudged her toward the Bagginses. “This is Bilbo Baggins and his nephew, Frodo.”

Bilbo greeted her with a wide grin. “Welcome to my home. I have tea and much to eat!”

“Thank you, Mr. Baggins,” Tansy answered shyly.

“Please, call me Bilbo.”

There was a sudden silence, and Frodo guessed everyone waited for him to introduce himself to Tansy.

He swallowed hard against his dry throat. His gaze fell onto her cinnamon-brown eyes.

“Hello,” Frodo barely whispered.

She acknowledged him with a timid nod.

An uneasy silence was something Bilbo did not want and so he broke it to say…

“Come, let us all have tea!”

Sam stood behind Rosie and unfastened the cloak from around her shoulders.

Feeling tension in every limb in his body, Frodo dreadfully watched Sam as he removed Rosie’s cloak and hung it up on the peg.

*Thank you, Sam. Thank you very much. I hope you don’t expect me to…*

His eyes darted back to Tansy.

*Is she waiting for me?*

Frodo’s left foot stepped out in front of him.

And when he attempted, Tansy refused. She quickly turned away from him, unfastened her cloak and placed it onto the peg.

Frodo let out a silent, relieved sigh. But at the same time, he was insulted at what she had done. Frodo ignored her. Instead, he left her behind with Rosie and Sam.

*Apparently she doesn’t want anyone touching her cloak. So why should I care about escorting her to the table?*

When they were seated, Frodo held the kettle and poured tea into each cup while everyone had a seed cake and fruit of their choice on the plate.

Frodo sat down and listened while Bilbo rambled on.

“Tansy, we’re very relieved you have a home with the Cottons, although we hope all will be well again with you and your family.”

Tansy kept her head bowed over her plate. “It’s what I wish,” she softly replied, “But for now, I accept the Cotton’s hospitality.”

Her eyes skirted from the barely eaten seed cake on her plate. She gazed briefly at the hobbit sitting across from her–Frodo keeping himself unusually busy. He had already consumed two seed cakes and reached onto the platter for another one.

Tansy rolled her eyes away from him.

*I should have expected such behavior from a Baggins. I don’t think he cares much for us Puddifoots. Why, he didn’t even escort me to the table!*

“Tansy?” Rosie added, “How do you like Hobbiton so far?”

“It’s beautiful,” she simply stated, wanting to express more of what she felt and furious at her anxiety that would not allow it.

“Ah, yes…Hobbiton,” Bilbo rambled again to Tansy, describing proudly and meticulously, details of the other parts.

While he rambled, Tansy stared at the bowl of fruit in the middle of the table. Among the fruit, she chose a strawberry, her favorite. She reached for one, grasping it quickly from the bunch.

Frodo hesitated from taking another bite of his cake. His eyes locked onto Tansy, finding himself lost again, like what happened when he saw the couples at the Green Dragon. He watched intently at the strawberry that touched her lips. And when Tansy sliced the fruit into her mouth, juice from the strawberry painted her delicate lips with a touch of red.

Her senses were suddenly alert. Someone watched her. Tansy looked up and saw Frodo’s awed expression. She panicked at his intrusive stare, resulting in an awkward reflex of her hand that knocked over the cup of tea.

Tansy gasped and bolted upright from her chair, startling the others as well.

“I–I’m so sorry!”

Bilbo stood onto his hobbit feet. “It’s quite all right,” he said, trying his best to comfort her with a smile. “I’ll clean it up.”

Embarrassed, Tansy blushed. She looked down at Rosie who had been sitting beside her.

“Rosie, I would like to see more of Hobbiton, if you don’t mind,” she said in a rather quick, rude tone, although it was not her intention to sound rude, Tansy added, “But I enjoyed my visit here.”

“All right,” Rosie obliged, sensing something was wrong. “We will go.”

Tansy rushed to where her cloak hung, angrily, she yanked it off the peg and breezed it around her shoulders.

Rosie joined her at the door. By then, Tansy composed herself. She turned to face Bilbo, Frodo and Sam.

“It was a pleasure meeting you all.”

At that, Tansy left alongside Rosie.

Frodo and Sam followed and stopped outside the door. While watching them leave toward the cart, Sam whispered to his friend…

“What do you think of her, Mr. Frodo?”

“Who?” Frodo uttered, lost in his thoughts again.

“Who? Tansy I’m speaking of.”

“Oh…she’s uh…”

“Strange?”

“That isn’t what I was about to say.”

Sam laughed. “Come now, Mr. Frodo, you can’t fool me. I saw the way you looked at her, especially when she knocked over her tea.”

Frodo kept quite, smirking at Sam until his attention drifted back to Tansy.

“Rosie…”

They stopped near the wagon.

“Yes, Tansy?”

“Once we see all of Hobbiton, are you taking me back home?”

“Well, you haven’t seen the Green Dragon yet.”

Tansy shook her head, refusing to go.

Rosie placed her hands on Tansy’s shoulders, squeezing them gently.

“You’ll have fun there, if you want to, understand?” Rosie grinned. “If you want to.”

She nodded at what Rosie told her, and then a little smile softened her lips.

The Green Dragon Inn.

It all had seemed like a dream, but Tansy wasn’t dreaming. Rosie and all the folk who were laughing, drinking, dancing…they were real…as real as the bar where she sat while Rosie poured ale in several mugs. Timidly, she looked around at everyone and those who danced. Tansy wanted to have fun, like Rosie encouraged. If only she could forget who she was…

*Tansy…ol’ Puddifoot, who cares about you poor folk*

“Be quiet!” she screamed silently at her own thoughts, the bitter voices that bombarded her with relentless torture.

And then…Tansy’s eyes widened at four hobbits entering the Inn.

“Mr. Frodo,” whispered Sam. “Isn’t that Tansy over there at the bar?”

“What? Yes, it is.”

His gaze met hers, lingering for a moment until he could no longer bear the uneasiness that overwhelmed him. Quickly, he looked away.

“Who’s Tansy?” asked Pippin.

Merry shrugged. “I dunno. Frodo, who’s–,”

“Let’s,” Frodo interrupted and annoyed at their questions. “Let’s sit.”

They followed Frodo to a table against the wall, not far from where Tansy sat. Unfortunately for him, it was one of the few tables available.

Once they were seated, curious Peregrin Took leaned across the table and again he asked the question.

“Now, Frodo, who’s this…Tansy?”

Frodo sighed. “She’s the one who Farmer Cotton found at Bywater Pool.”

“Ahh…I see.”

“She’s staying with the Cottons,” said Sam. “At mid-day, Rosie stopped by with Miss Puddifoot–,”

“Puddifoot?” Merry interrupted. “I’ve never met one of them. But it seems like you and Frodo have already introduced yourselves.”

“Hey!” Pippin shouted above the rambunctious crowd. “Why don’t we introduce ourselves?”

Merry nodded. “Good idea, Pip.”

“Noooo!” Frodo grumbled.

Concerning Merry and Pippin, it was no use. When they planned something, nothing stopped them, not even Frodo’s persistence.

At the moment, Tansy noticed Merry and Pippin. She watched them suspiciously as they headed toward to where she sat.

Merry greeted her with a wide grin that stretched cheerily across his face.

“Hello, I’m Meriadoc Brandybuck from Buckland,” he announced in a way that Tansy perceived as arrogant. “You can call me Merry if you like.”

Pippin waited for Merry to finish and then he added…

“I’m Peregrin Took…uh, Pippin from Tuckborough. We’re Frodo’s cousins and a friend of Samwise Gamgee.”

Tansy nodded politely.

They waited for her to speak. When she didn’t, Merry asked…

“And you are?”

“Tansy,” She muttered.

“Tansy…” Merry insisted on her telling them her full name, thinking it proper to do so.

“Tansy,” she repeated and would tell them no more.

Merry eyed Pippin and cleared his throat.

Pippin sensed she was uncomfortable and thought they should go back to the table.

“Well,” he said, “It has been a pleasure meeting you.”

Pippin bowed a little and then he tugged Merry away from the bar.

Frodo peeked over his shoulder.

“They’re back,” he muttered irritably to Sam.

Merry and Pippin joined them at the table again.

“What did she say?” grumbled Frodo.

Pippin frowned. “She isn’t very friendly.”

Sarcastic laughter burst from Frodo’s lungs. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

What seemed like an hour that passed, Tansy never left the bar, staying close to Rosie as possible. Then, she grew worried after Sam finally mustered the courage to ask Rosie to dance. She hated feeling isolated and thought this whole thing, visiting the Green Dragon was a bad idea. Terrified, she rubbed her fingers together while watching Rosie enjoying her dance with Sam.

After the dance ended, a proud Samwise Gamgee returned to the table.

“Finally!” Frodo exclaimed in a voice evident of someone who had too much ale.
“You asked Rosie to dance!”

“Now it’s your turn,” Sam shouted back.

“What do you mean?”

“Miss Puddifoot. Why don’t you ask her to dance?”

Frodo chuckled. “What?”

“Well, it’s only fair, Mr. Frodo. You’ve been teasing me about not asking Rosie to dance.”

“Go on, Frodo,” Pippin insisted, “Let’s see you dance!”

Frodo huffed.

*It looks like there’s no way I’m getting out of this one is there?*

He sprang from the chair in a giddy mood. “All right, I’ll ask her to dance!”

“Rosie, please, I want to go home.”

“Are you sure?” Rosie walked from behind the bar and sat down beside her. “Okay, I’ll be finished here soon–,”

Tansy gasped. “It’s Frodo Baggins,” she said as he slowly approached her. “What does he want?”

Frodo stopped at the bar and stood in front of Tansy.

Rosie politely excused herself, leaving them alone.

“Yes?” said Tansy sharply, wishing she could stop the shivers while staring into the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.

“I, uh…I apologize for my behavior earlier.” He extended his hand toward her. “Would you like to dance?”

Tansy stared at his small hand, as if it had been infested with a plague.

Frightened, her eyes leaped from his hand and met his gaze that appeared bolder than it had been earlier.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head.

Stubborn, Frodo persisted. “I insist you dance with me…Miss Tansy Puddifoot.”

She shot a nervous glance at Rosie who encouraged her with a nod and smiled.

Tansy slipped her pudgy hand into his. Frodo graciously guided her away from the bar and toward the middle of the floor. She continued to stare at him in shock, thinking it strange for a Baggins to ask her to dance.

Fiddles played. Couples began their dance.

Folk sitting at the tables watched.

By then, Tansy’s face turned chalk-white.

“I–I don’t know how to dance.”

“Just follow me.”

The next thing that happened, she found herself gliding into a dance with Frodo.

And as they danced, for the first time, Tansy felt a burst of adrenaline surge through her veins. Disappearing into the crowd of other couples dancing, she could not believe she was enjoying this moment, and the laughter she shared with Frodo. But when Tansy’s eyes left his to focus on the folk sitting at their tables, she noticed those who watched them and gossiped. Fear…it found her again, perforating itself deep into her stomach that rolled with nausea.

She could no longer keep up with Frodo. Disoriented, Tansy stumbled out of rhythm, tangled herself into the others who danced and she slipped, plummeting to the floor with a deafening thud. Tansy looked up to see the baffled stares from those standing around her. A stunned Frodo wondered what happened, extending his hand to help her up. Tansy’s face turned red hot at the embarrassing moment. Instead of allowing Frodo to help, she sprang onto her feet, scowled at him and stormed out of the Inn.

Frodo stayed where he was, feeling foolish while people stared. Furious, he raced after her and braked in his tracks at the table where a roar of laughter bellowed from Merry and Pippin. Sam, well, he knew his gardener was ashamed about the whole thing and kept his head bowed over his mug.

Frodo huffed and continued after Tansy. She stood outside, leaning against the wall of the Inn. Her arms folded tightly against her chest. He faced her, unaware of Sam, Merry and Pippin rushing out of the Inn and standing in the distance.

“What happened?” Frodo asked her.

Anger boiled and burned across Tansy’s face.

“What happened? First the tea, now this! You did it on purpose.”

“Wha–I’ve done no such thing–,”

“Now I know why you asked me to dance. What am I? Just a fool to a Brandybuck, a Took…and especially a Baggins!”

Frodo had never been so angry at a lass. Embarrassed and insulted, he glared back at her.

“If that’s what you believe, then let it be so. Sam is right, you are strange!”

Frodo thought he saw tears in her eyes. He wasn’t sure because by then, Tansy marched away from him.

Sam rushed to his side. “Mr. Frodo, are you all right?”

Solemnly, Frodo shook his head. “No, Sam. I’m not all right. I’ve had too much to drink and now I want to go home.”

“Okay, Mr. Frodo. We’ll go.”

Frodo shuffled inside his home. No sign of Bilbo, although a fire burned under the mantle, casting a mellow glow around the parlor. He stumbled, woozy from all the ale he drank and still upset about the incident with Tansy.

Suddenly, Bilbo scurried down the tunneled hall and into the parlor.

“Frodo, what happened? You don’t look well at all.”

“You’re right, uncle, I’m not well. I’ve had too much to drink.”

“You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Frodo nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Frodo sensed Bilbo’s awareness of something else wrong besides drinking too much ale. He was certain his uncle would ask him about it in the morning. For now, Frodo shrugged it aside and confined himself to his room.

He leaned against the round door, then sliding down onto the floor. He remained there with his arms entwined around his legs.

Tansy Puddifoot.

Why did she accuse him of such an act? It’s true that Sam and Pippin coerced him into dancing with her, but a part of him really wanted to dance. It was no jest. He recalled the words she spat at him…

“What am I? Just a fool to a Brandybuck, a Took…and especially a Baggins!”

His thoughts tormented him again…

*Baggins. You see, she thinks you’re a snob*

“I’m not like that at all,” Frodo said aloud, softly at first, then he shouted, “What do I care what she thinks!”

Frodo slapped his hands against his face.

He trembled slightly and uttered, “What’s happening to me?”

TBC