Still on the Quest

Do you ever wish things were different, Sam?

Different, Mr. Frodo?

If I didn’t have the Ring, I mean.

Well, Mr. Lotho’d have it then, seeing as how he’d’ve been Mr. Bilbo’s heir, and a fine time Gandalf would have had talking him out the door with it, too. He’s never been one for sleeping rough. I expect he’d’ve complained all the way to Rivendell.

I never thought of it that way. I was thinking… well… if Bilbo hadn’t found it.

Something meant him to, by what I heard at the Council, and wishing wouldn’t change that. I daresay I wouldn’t have enjoyed the walk so much if it had been Mr. Lotho, though it would have been a chance to get shut of his ma, and that’s the truth.

What? Would you have gone with Lotho?

As much as I’ve wanted to see Elves all my days? Can’t say as I would have told Gandalf no if he asked me, and if Mr. Lotho were Master at Bag End all those years I expect I would have got used to his ways. I don’t know as I would have ever seen Lorien, though, once having got an eyeful at Rivendell, and the road home plain as daylight. O’course, Mr. Bilbo offered, and I’d have gone with him quick enough. But I can’t see as Mr. Lotho would have volunteered, what with Black Riders and all.

They could have given the Ring to an Elf.

Seems like it’s a job for a hobbit, from all I heard. The ones that want It can’t be trusted with it and the ones that can be trusted don’t want It. So it’s just as well. Like as not they’d have thought I should take it, and then we’d all be in the soup.

rubynye asked for this one, adding that she thought of the idea in a conversation with febobe.


Bell Gamgee’s Pans”

Treyson Goodchild had had the pans made for himself to take on fishing excursions. and kept using them when his children grew old enough to come along. There was a third pan, fit with legs, but it went north with Will Goodchild while the other two stayed in Overhill with Dan. Bell was Dan’s youngest child, and by the time she was born the pans had been shoved to the back of a cupboard in favor of larger skillets, fit to feed more than a hobbit or two. She found them while she was still a fauntling, and played drum on them with her spoon. Later she made mudpies in them, pretending to cook like her mother did.

It took a hard scrubbing and a good bit of sand to get the rust out when she wanted the pans for picnics with Ham Gamgee. He liked her cooking and he liked her too, and she and her pans came to Bagshot Row, and stayed a while. Their honeymoon meals were cooked with them, until time and Mr. Bilbo equipped the kitchen with good cast iron. But her daughters did their first cooking in the small pans, and her sons too, and thought no more about where they had come from than they thought about the moon.

Bell died, and the children grew and moved on, except for Sam, who found the pans useful for an egg or two and a bit of bacon to be shared with his aging father. And when at last he was packing to leave home as well, he hesitated over the nestled pans until Hamfast asked him why he was dithering over carrying a pound or two of tin when he was sure to want a bite to eat on the long walk to Crickhollow.