Chapter 1: a ringy
Once in a galaxy far, far, far away- o sorry, wrong story. Call me Ishmael- ugh wrong again. Here we go—
When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of bag end announced he would shortly be celebrating his 111 birthday with a free laptop to the first 111 people who came, Gandalf suddenly showed. (Amazing how the power of electronics can lure wizards.)
The whole Shire was up for a good time- watching Gandalf’s downloaded fireworks, drinking Gaffer’s Old Home Brew by the pints- actual pints, mind you- and Farmer Maggot’s mushrooms courtesy of Pippin and Merry’s swift hands. It would be a night to remember. But let’s make it short. After Bilbo’s speech- leaf anonymous sucked-and his mysterious disappearance, Frodo found himself, accompanied by Sam, walking to the gate.
“Go meet Rosie at the Green Dragon, Sam.” Frodo insisted. “I want to be alone.”
Sam ventured away, mumbling as Frodo entered into Bag End. Tea, Frodo thought, that’s what I’ll have. Hot tea. He opened the door to find a messy room to greet him. I’ll have to clean first. He decided, pulling on a red and gold apron. He entered the living room and started at the tall figure.
“Gandalf! What’ve I told you about being messy?” He paused. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He left you everything, you know.” He hesitated momentarily. “Even this.”
“Oh, per-tty!” Frodo said fingering the ring. “I always liked Bilbo’s ring. Shiny, you know.”
“Yes, it is. But you must keep it secret. Keep it safe.”
“So no shouting at the top of my lungs?”
“NO!!!”
“Okay, then.” Frodo grinned. “Oh merry hobbits!!” Bunches of lace skirts holding three hobbits jumped out.
“Frodo has a ringy- a ringy- a ringy!” Sam sung, doing cartwheels.
“Oh, a ringy?” Pip inquired, doing back flips on the window ledge.
“Frodo when you’d marry this pretty lady?” Merry demanded, pointing at Gandalf. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
“Well, you see…”
“Silence!!” Gandalf roared. “I am not a girl, I am not married to Frodo, and you aren’t going to tell anyone.”
“We’re not?” The four asked innocently.
” You’re not. Now, I’ll be back. Pig out; drink ale by the gallons, and, Frodo, I’ll come back and freak you out soon.”
“Okay.” Frodo said enthusiastically.
“Oh, and, Frodo, is that real gold on your apron?”
“I dunno. I guess. Maybe.” Frodo turned and whispered something to Merry.
Merry grinned as he lifted the gold part of the apron and sunk his teeth into it. “Yep.” He said showing them the teeth that had fallen out.
*J*J*
6 months later at the Green Dragon, after Sam had proposed to Rosie that she get him more ale…
“Pip! Over here! Let’s sing!”
“OK, Merry! What should we sing?” Merry whispered the song to Pippin, who started smiling like crazy. “Alright then. Here we go.”
Soon the whole Green Dragon was being serenaded by the two’s not-so-PG-rated version of ‘The Monkey Chased the weasel’. During the arousing song, Frodo decided he should leave the pub and go home to call the Barbie Doll Hotline and order the Malibu string bikini Barbie and Ken for Merry’s birthday.
“Sam, I am going to go on home.”
“I’ll join you Mr. Frodo. Rosie’s busy anyway.” Sam turned and called to the hassled beer maiden. “Bye, Rosie, see you tomorrow night!”
The two companions left the stifling pub and walked into the cooling, relaxing night air. The two, master and gardener, walked in silence, each mulling his own thoughts. Sam’s containing of him and Rosie one day and the life they might live. Frodo’s holding images of how his old cousin- Bilbo- might be.
“Oh, how I miss Bilbo, Sam. He was a wonderful ‘uncle’ even though he was my cousin. He knew so much about Dell and such.” Frodo sighed.
“I know Mr. Frodo. He was a good man. He could swipe anything off Ebay.” Sam grinned. “He taught Pip everything he knew. And that’s saying a lot.”
“Yes, Sam, it is.” Frodo looked at his gardener with love. “Sam, would you like a pint of ale for your house? I’ll give you one.”
“Why, certainly, Mr. Frodo. I’ll wait outside for it though.” Standing at the gate, he watched his master and friend, walk into the magnificent old home.
Once in the house, Frodo set to moving stuff around to enter the wine yard.
“Hello Gandalf. Nice day.” Frodo said as he moved the old 1812 IBM.
“Hey!” The gray wizard protested. “Unfair! You were supposed to be freaked out!”
“Sorry. I was waiting for this day.” He shrugged.
“Anyway,” the wizard cleared his throat, “is it secret, is it safe?” he asked, pulling on a face of pure angst.
“Don’t know. I guess.” Frodo shrugged again.
” What do you mean ‘don’t know’?”
“I really don’t know. See, Pip wanted to sell something expensive on Ebay, so, I gave him Ringy.”
” ‘Ringy’?”
” I named it all by myself!” Frodo beamed triumphantly. “Anyway, Pip sold it to a man named Sauron. (He’s a good chap, you know.) He wanted to take the one Ringy and use it to conquer the world. Said he would keep it secret and safe afterwards. I think he has.”
“You fool of a Baggins!”
“Sorry, but it’s ‘Took’. Fool of a Took.”
“Shut up.” Gandalf was clearly agitated.
“Someone’s out there, wait here.”
“But it’s – ”
“Shut up!”
“Alright.” Frodo went back to moving stuff.
“Now.” Gandalf paced. He was thoroughly worried. How could Frodo sell the ring? “You’ll go to Bree. I’ll probably miss you, but you’ll get a letter. Stay with Strider.”
“Okay, Captain Corn! No wait, that’s Merry.”
“Silence! Gandalf interrupted. Frodo did as he was told and shrugged. Oh, well. If Sam got killed, too bad. Frodo thought, I can have more ale!
Gandalf crept over to the window where Frodo and Sam agreed to meet. Gandalf could see a hobbity figure. Although he wasn’t scared- okay maybe a little- he did worry for Frodo. The poor hobbit had lost his parents and, now, his ‘uncle’, he needn’t more pain.
Sam heard the talking had stopped. Oh well, he knew the story anyway. He was part of it, somewhat. He was- like Frodo- expecting this day. But what he wasn’t expecting was what he just received- this bonk on the head that made him…
Sam awoke to see a stick with a white root-like stick on the top pointing in between his eyes. He moved his right arm and felt a mug- of ale! His left arm felt a great weight on it- him.
“Told you I’d give you the ale, Sam.” Frodo was saying. “Sorry about the bonk the bonk, Gandalf’s a freak.”
“I am not!” Gandalf protested, moving his stick to Frodo for a second. He returned to see Sam struggling to sit up on the table. “Down, you foolish, eavesdropping hobbit!”
“I wasn’t dropping any eaves, sir. Never Sam! I was waiting for my ale! Honest, sir!” Sam gulped. “Please be merciful.”
“Oh?” Gandalf gave Frodo a grin. “I think I have a better idea.”