Frodo grimaced as the limb he was tugging on slipped a bit, the rough bark biting into his already abraded skin as the huge branch shifted into place. His hands would likely take a while to recover from all this.

"That's it!" Cole yelled. "It's far enough."

Frodo let go and took a deep breath. And it felt as if he was breathing in water. The drip from the trees was constant, but he could see, beyond the tree line, that it was pouring.

Cole Ransom walked up to him wringing out his cap and cramming it back onto his head. Not that it helped much. Frodo had given up trying to stay dry.

"That's the last of it. The road's pretty clear, 'cept for brush and small pieces," Cole said.

"Good," Frodo managed.

The rest of the team was at work sawing up the downed tree into smaller chunks. Frodo watched as they filled yet another pony cart with pieces and sent it off down the hill. There would certainly be plenty of firewood for a while.

The roaring sound in the background suddenly got louder and Frodo peered out beyond the trees. It was like a solid grey curtain of rain, hiding everything behind it.

"What's next?" Cole asked.

"I need to check with Stu. He said there were some trees down along the banks upstream. He's afraid they'll get pulled into the river once it gets high enough. If they hit the mill wheel or pile up at the bridge --"

Cole grimaced. "That's dangerous work." Frodo could see the fear of being that close to those swift moving waters in Cole's eyes.

"We may be able to hook them up and just ease them up away from the river," Frodo said.

"They'll need some rest time," Cole said, tilting his chin towards the two at work just up the road.

"I think this will take oxen, if we can even get to them through the underbrush." He looked up, trying to determine how much light they might have. "Stu's going to come by and let me know if he thinks we can do anything in time. The water's rising fast." Frodo realised they were all so tired that any task, at this point, would seem overwhelming. "Tell them to leave the rest of this for later. The road's clear. They need to rest."

Cole turned to head off just as someone shouted from down the hill. Three figures walked towards them on the road, one waving a greeting.

"Mister Frodo!!" It was Tom Cotton and his younger brother Jolly with him, along with one of the Burrows from Bywater.

"Tom! Jolly! Good to see you all in one piece." Frodo strode forward. "Is your family safe? The farm?"

Tom nodded. "We'll lose some of the winter crop, but not much of it. Da's down at Bag End. Said he heard how you needed some extra hands over here. The Master told us you was up here with a crew. Sent us up ta find ya.  This is Trip Burrows."

Frodo shook the young hobbit's hand.  "Glad to have your help, Trip."

Tom looked around. "Looks like you're pretty well finished here. You want us to cut up the rest of that tree? Let your team rest up?"

Frodo smiled in relief. "I've got something else in mind for you, but we'll need a team and a harness. These fellows are wrung out. "

"Well, Da brought the waggon over with our team. I'm certain he'd be glad to help," Tom replied.

"Cole! Tell them to head home and rest up!" Frodo shouted. Bard Smallburrow gave a tired yell of approval.

"Mister Bilbo said as how you've been pushing yourself pretty hard, trying to set things to rights afore the river crests."

"Well, there was quite a bit of damage. But we've managed." Frodo patted Cole on the back as he passed by with the team on the way down the hill. "Thanks Cole."

"We'll be ready in the morning, Mister Frodo. Whatever you need," Cole said.

"Thanks Horace." He patted Horace's arm as he went by. "You're worth two hobbits."

"Glad to help, Mister Frodo."

"And you too, Bard. Thank you."

"Yessir." Bard touched his forelock.

Frodo looked around the site to make sure no tools had been left behind, then started back down the road with the three Bywater hobbits.

"I heared you had to manage without Samwise Gamgee. Figures as he would decide all of a sudden to go off and visit relations," Tom said casually.

But Frodo saw Tom watching him closely. "Sam left before the worst of it. He likely doesn't even know how bad it was."

"Well, I'm sure he'll head home soon as he does hear. His da sure needs him. He and Mister Bilbo was out looking at the kitchen garden when we was by. Miz Marigold was all worried one of 'em was gonna try to wade out in the mud, Mister Bilbo with his arm all wrapped up and the Gaffer with his rheumatiz. She was all flustered."

"And Tom thinks she's real pretty when she's flustered," Jolly quipped.

"Shut yer trap, Jolly." But Tom turned pink.

"What's it like in Bywater?"

"Well, the Pool's rising fast. But you got most of the wind storm over here, I'm thinkin'."

"Good. All we can hope for is that the river doesn't go too far above crest." Frodo smiled tiredly at all three of them. "Now, you think you're up to moving some trees?"

***

Sam pointed to the haze of blue that covered the field they were passing. "I don't think I've seen that crop afore; at least not that much of it in one place. What is it?"

"That's flax. Pretty, ain't it?" Halfred replied as they walked up the road from town into the hills.

"And this is Grandda's?"

"Yep, this is Goodchild land. Sig's doin' a good job with it." Halfred pointed. "That over there is hemp."

Sam shaded his eyes and looked out across the fields, then turned to look east.

"Still dark back there. Won't be an easy road, I'm thinkin'," Halfred said, following his gaze.

Sam's heart lifted at the thought of being back on that road heading homeward, easy or hard. Being here was fine and all, but his heart longed to bypass the road and just fly home.

"No, it likely won't," Sam agreed.

"Maybe now. Maybe after this, it'll seem shorter," Halfred said thoughtfully.

Sam looked up as they cleared the trees and came upon a sprawling smial nestled into the hillside. There were quite a few buildings above the ground. But the hole was a proper hole, and big by the looks of all the windows. The gardens weren't what he expected though.

"Grandda Bert had the gardens tore out and redone. I imagine you could do better."

Sam didn't want to say, but no doubt anyone could do better than this sparse, untidy sprawl. He had no doubt as to why the old hobbit had torn them out.

"This is Goodfields." Halfred swept his arm around to encompass the rambling smial and grounds. It's too big for just the three of 'em, but Sig's been talking of a family and I think he and Celandine Tigh are pretty serious. Since Grandda's been -- well, he really can't object to joining up with the Tighs no more."

Sam smiled. The old rivalry would likely end. He wondered what that meant for the rope works.

"Here we go. You ready?"

Sam took a shaky breath. "Seemingly."

Halfred walked up to the porch and rang the bell. Sam looked around. They needed some colour here in the shadows. Something blue and restful. And a bench for resting on. Maybe a pot full of--

"Halfred?" came a quavery voice. "Were you to come today? Sig didn't say anything."

"No ma'am. This is a special visit. No need to worry. We're full to burstin' with Abby's roast chicken and Cammie's apple tart."

"We?"

Sam looked up. His Gammer Goodchild hadn't changed that much since that day at Number 3. Her hair was so white in the shadows that it was startling. And she wore that same black dress he had last seen her in, only now it seemed baggy on her and not quite so fine. She was thinner. He could see the difference in her face. And so tiny and frail. She pulled a thick wool shawl around her shoulders with shaking hands.

"It's Samwise, Gammer. My baby brother Samwise come to see you," Halfred's voice sounded thick.

Samwise saw where his mum had got her grey eyes as his gammer gazed at him questioningly.

"Samwise?"

"Yes ma'am. Samwise Gamgee."

"Bell's Samwise?"

"Yes'm."

The door creaked wider as her hand flew up to her mouth. "Bell's Samwise," she repeated.

"He wanted to come and see you and Grandda Bert. He has to leave right quick, but--"

"Hal? Is that you?"

A stocky fellow with dark hair and eyes popped around the door, pulling it wide. "Did we have an appointment?"

"No Sig. This is an unexpected visit. My baby brother Samwise come to see Gammer and Grandda."

"Your brother?"

"Samwise, this is Sig, our cousin a few times removed and don't ask me to trace the family tree, cause I can't."

"Sigmund Weaver, at your service." Sig bobbed an awkward bow.

Sam bowed back. "Samwise Gamgee at yours and your family's."

"Well, come in, come in. We don't have any tea things out, but there may be some biscuits--"

"I was just telling Gammer, we have filled up the corners already. Samwise just wanted to visit quick afore we take to the road." Halfred's eyes shone. "We're going to Hobbiton."

"To Hobbiton? Oh my. That is news. Come in." Sig ushered them into a parlour.

Gammer Goodchild seemed confused about which direction to go, so she stood nervously in the entry. The smial was overly warm with the windows tightly closed and roaring fires in the two fireplaces Sam had seen so far, but it was a lovely place, with thick rugs on the floor and wood furniture polished to a fine sheen.

Sam swallowed nervously. "I-- I just wanted to pay my respects," he said quickly. "I don't mean to be a bother--"

"I heard the bell. Did you send my mum away again? I wanna go home now."

There was no doubt as to who that was. Sam felt his stomach clench at the sound of that quivering childish voice.

"No, Bert, that wasn't your mum. It's Samwise come to see you." His gammer walked across the entry and took the arm of a tottering figure that lurched into the light blinking at them owlishly.

It wasn't the same tall proud hobbit Sam remembered at all, but a little shrunken shadow of a hobbit dressed in a stained nightshirt with an equally dirty robe tied crookedly around his emaciated form. He gazed at Hal, then at Sam, and his eyes narrowed.

"You," he growled, his voice no longer quivering. "You took my Bell." He lurched forward.

Sam stepped back, clenching his fists and feeling his face flush.

Halfred moved into the old hobbit's line of sight. "Grandda, it's Halfred. And this is Samwise. He's Bell's son -- her youngest son," he said soothingly. "You remember me, Grandda. Halfred."

"My Bell," the old hobbit muttered, gazing beyond Halfred at nothing. Then, a moment later, his expression changed. "I heard the bell. Was it my mum?" he asked in a childish quaver.

"No, it wasn't your mum. Here, Uncle, you come with me and I will get some of those biscuits you like." Sig walked forward, holding out his
hands.

"Biscuits! Biscuits biscuits biscuits," Sam's grandda repeated in a sing-song as they walked out of the room. Sig nodded to Halfred as they went.

"Thank you, Sig," his gammer sighed.

Sam took a deep shaky breath.

"I felt the same, brother. And he does that to anyone who has the slightest resemblance to Da. Uncle Andy can't come anywhere around him," Halfred whispered. "So don't feel singled out."

"Samwise?" His Gammer Mim walked towards them and grasped his hands. For a long moment she stood gazing up into his face then she rubbed on his fingers, frowning. "You have his eyes and his hands, but you have her face -- my Bell's face. She never was his Bell."

For a moment Sam thought she was talking about his da. Then he realised she was talking about his Grandda Bert.

"And the girls. The little one, Marigold? She was ill."

Sam frowned, turning to Halfred in confusion. Halfred shook his head. Grandda Goodchild wasn't the only one wandering in the past.

"No, that's wrong. She's likely all grown up now." She blinked and shook her head.

"Marigold will be sixteen soon. And May is twenty-four this year. And Daisy is twenty-eight now," Sam recited. "They're all fine. Hardly ever sick."

"And pretty. I know they're pretty. They're my Bell's. They must be."

"Yes'm. The prettiest in the Shire," Sam affirmed, smiling.

"And you? How old are you, young Samwise?"

"I turned twenty last month, ma'am."

"You're a fine figure of a hobbit, Samwise Gamgee."

Halfred snorted.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"And you have better manners than your brothers."

Halfred stifled a noise and Sam grinned.

"Yes ma'am."

"I want you to see something, Samwise." She was still holding his hands and she turned, pulling him with her.

Sam's heart soared. She was going to let him see his mum's room. He could capture it all and tell the girls about every detail. And maybe, someday, they could come and see it too. His mum's room.

Halfred followed, quiet now as they walked out into the entryway and then down a dim corridor.

It was like one of Mister Bilbo's stories. One of those places you knew was special and magic -- where you should be quiet and respectful.

His gammer fished in her pocket and pulled out a key. "I don't let him in," she whispered.

Sam knew now who he was.

He wondered, briefly, as the door swung open if he would see her standing there, just like he saw her on the Hill sometimes. He took a breath and tears clogged his throat. It smelled of her -- the air in the bedsmial still smelled of her. He felt Halfred's hand on his arm and turned to see tears in his eyes as well.

"You smell--?"

Halfred nodded.

It was just as Halfred had said. His mum's room left as it had been when she was just a tween. But still there were things of the little lass here as well. He turned, his eyes taking in everything hungrily -- the clothes press, the washstand, a basket with a half-finished piece of embroidery, a rag doll, and a cloth pony on the bed. In the corner, there was a shelf with little odds and ends -- acorns, dried flowers, stones with odd shapes, empty bird nests -- just like his mum's shelf at home, filled with his things he brung her. He walked over to the bed and touched the coverlet reverently. Then he stroked the little pony with his finger.

"He tried to pretend she never existed. But I knew she had. I kept her here where he couldn't find her, so I could remember. He pretended until it was too late, and she was gone beyond his reach," his Gammer Mim said softly. "Now he doesn't need to pretend any more. He doesn't remember all the pain he caused."

She walked over to the bed across from him and looked at him with those grey eyes like his mum's.

"You know the story. You know what he did?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good." She reached down and picked up the pony and thrust it at him. "Give it to the youngest -- Marigold. Tell her it was her mum's. And her mum loved her--" Her voice broke. "Her mum loved her very much."

He took it carefully, his hands shaking. "I will."

She turned on Halfred. "You-- Halfred. Are you going back there too?"

"Just for now, Gammer. I'll be back."

She looked down at her hands. "But then you're going away. Like she did."

"I'm going up to the sheep farm. Up in the Northfarthing in the summer, like I told you. With my cousin Anson. But I'll come back and visit you."

"I won't be here," she sighed.

Halfred looked at Sam and Sam wondered, just for a moment, if Sig Weaver and his Tigh bride might keep this room as it was. Then he looked around anxiously trying to remember it all.

They walked out as quietly as they had entered and Gammer Mim locked the door carefully behind them, the sound of the lock loud in the corridor.

Sam held the cloth pony to his face and breathed in deeply. He wondered how long that smell would linger.

Their Grandda Bert was sitting in the parlour, humming to himself and looking out the window anxiously. Sig came bustling from the direction of the kitchen brushing at a new stain on his shirt.

"He threw the cordial at me again," he said breathlessly. "Sometimes it helps quiet him down if I can get some in him."

Sam tensed as his grandda turned around to look at them questioningly.

"That's a pony." His grandda pointed at the cloth pony and grinned. "I have wooden ponies--" The grin vanished and he turned back to the window. "At home-- My mum is coming to take me home."

Sam sighed. He wanted to be angry with the old hobbit. He wanted to hate him for what he had done to the Gaffer, to his mum, to all of them. But Sam couldn't find it in him to hate the fragile creature that his grandda had become.

"Well, we gotta be on the road soon. It'll be a long trip to Hobbiton," Halfred said.

Gammer Goodchild brightened suddenly. "You can take our pony cart. Sig, our team is ready, is it not?"

Sig turned, confused. "Yes ma'am, but--"

"No, that's all right. We'll use our cart or ride with old Cord. We'll manage." Halfred backed towards the door.

"No, I insist. I don't have any use for it right now, and -- You'll bring it back to me, won't you Halfred?" She smiled at him brightly. "You're coming back, you said. Not going to the Northfarthing till summer." Her expression was so hopeful that Sam felt his throat tighten.

"Yes ma'am, but your ponies--"

"I won't have any use for the ponies if I don't have the pony cart, will I?"

She gave Halfred and Sig a defiant glare and Sam grinned. She must've been something to see when she was younger.

Halfred turned to Sam, shrugging. "It is really light and fast, Samwise. And with that team-- Well, it would get us to Hobbiton quicker."

Halfred turned to Sig with a questioning look.

"Well, I suppose it would-- If that's what you want, Aunt. We can certainly get along with one of the other carts for a while," Sig said.

"Hamson will be jealous. He's always wanted to drive that cart," Halfred whispered to Sam.

"Ponies!" Grandda Bert said loudly. "I have ponies--"

***

"It's a beauty," Hamson breathed.

Andwise walked around the pony cart shaking his head then looked at the team standing quiet in harness.

"They're sound. Good, fast ponies. Built for it," Halfred argued from where he stood in the cart box.

"Well, it would get us there faster," Andwise conceded.

Cord stood up in his own waggon bed, where he was arranging the load of rope. "Sure would."

The cart and Cord's waggon were both in the rope walk. Cord was taking on the load of goods he would deliver back to customers. Sam and Halfred waited to load the cart.

"Go south and take the Great East Road. It's farther, but the Post says it's dry and fast till just south of Hobbiton, near the Three-Farthing Stone. The other way's wet and marshy, likely washed out there below the bog. You'll not get through with that cart. You can get a good team in Michel Delving -- at Trip Noakes' stables -- and put them ponies up there till you come back through."

Andwise looked from Cord to Halfred to Hamson to Sam. "All right. Load it, lads. I'll need help with Cammie's parcels. She's likely packed more food than we can eat in a fortnight."

Halfred gave a yip of approval and set to loading packs and bags into the little cart.

"Abby brung your pack over, Samwise. She said your clothes was dry and folded in there," Hamson said, pointing to Sam's pack on the ground next to the cart; Halfred grabbed it.

"But I want to see her and Manny. Say goodbye," Sam protested.

"Don't worry, she's up at the home place. She and Aunt Cammie won't let you get away without a proper goodbye." Hamson grinned. "And besides, we'll be coming your way soon enough."

"Well then, I guess you're elected to come up and help me with the parcels, Samwise." Andwise stood up, stretching.

"Can I ask you a question Uncle Andy, before we go up there?" Sam asked.

"Certainly."

"It's about the Gammidgy Knot." He saw Hamson suddenly stiffen and turn to listen. "I was wondering. It don't look to me like it can be undone."

Andwise looked at Hamson then back at Sam. "Let's go look at it."

They walked into the rope works and back to the wall where the dusty old knot hung. All three of them stood staring at it for a long while.

"So, how would you undo it, Samwise?"

"I don't rightly know. It don't look like it can be. I mean, it's so old and fragile, and there's no ends to speak of." Sam shook his head.

"Why don't you ask your Aunt Cammie when you go up? She might have something to say about it."

They left Hamson staring up at the Knot, a frown on his face.

***

"There's shaved ham and cold chicken and a wheel of cheese. And some of those biscuits you like. And there's two loaves of bread." Camellia ticked off the contents of the sack. "Oh, and butter in a little crock, so be careful with it."

"And I put in Halfred's pot and pan he travels with, and some sausages and potatoes, in case you stop long enough to have a fire," Abelia added.

"And some of the apples."

"We will likely roll into Hobbiton on our stomachs," Andwise laughed. "Thank you, love."

Sam took the sack. It gave out a muted clank.

"And that, Samwise, is for you to take home to your sisters." Camellia pointed to a wooden box on the floor at her feet. Sam noticed her lace-making pillow was empty now, sitting there next to her chair. It looked as if she was in the middle of winding bobbins.

He looked down into it. "Begging your pardon, but those girls'll be all over me and me not knowing which is which."

His aunt laughed. "The packages are marked. Daisy's has a daisy. Marigold's a marigold. May's a rose. Your da's a rake. And yours a hoe."

"Well, that's fine then!" Sam remarked then realised what she had said. "Mine?"

"Don't you worry. It's not lace!"

"Oh." Sam felt himself blush. "Thank you. And thank you from the girls as well."

"I'm hoping they'll thank me themselves one day."

"Yes ma'am."

"Be careful, Uncle," Abelia stepped forward with the baby.

Andwise leaned in and stroked Manny's cheek.  "You be good for your mum, now Holman. And watch your da for me."

Camellia pushed herself up and reached for her husband, who pulled her into his arms and whispered into her hair, then kissed her soundly. "You be sitting right here when I get home. No excursions."

"Yessir," she said, with a wry face, and held out her arms to Sam.

Sam stepped into them and buried his face into that smell again, so he would remember. She pulled him back and held his cheeks and kissed him. "Give one of those to all of them from me."

"Yes ma'am." Sam stepped over to Abelia and leaned into the baby. "You come and visit your grandda soon, Holman," he whispered.

"Samwise had a question for you, love, before we go," Andwise said as she seated herself once more.

"Yes, Samwise?"

It seemed silly now, in light of everything else, but Sam still felt he had to ask. He had to work out how to solve it all before they arrived at Number 3.

"It's about the Gammidgy Knot. How would you undo it?"

Camellia smiled and raised her eyebrows at Andwise. It appeared this was an old discussion.

"Well, there've been times when I would've liked to take an axe and chop it into little pieces, had I the strength," she said solemnly.

Sam frowned and looked up at his uncle.

"What do you think, Samwise? Would that work?" Andwise asked.

Sam looked at him and then at his aunt thoughtfully.

His uncle was silent and both of them were watching Sam solemnly.

"Well, I don't rightly know."

"You think on it, Samwise. It'll come to you," Camellia added.

"Yes ma'am. I will."

***

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