Sevends ods of Passion

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Chapter 4: Schooling!

It would now be two days before Alana’s first day of school. And Frodo was praying that she would fit in and make friends. He hoped and prayed that the Shire children would accept her. Well, they had better treat her with respect. Frodo already loved Alana dearly. More than Anything. And he was overly protective of her. Sometimes Alana felt that she should be walking around in a suit of armour with the way Frodo looked out for her.

He was far more protective ther oer own parents had been. And leaned a lot more on the touchy feely side as well. Her parents had never hugged her, kissed her or cradled her as much as he. Not that it mattered much to her as a kid. No kid cared much about their parents getting too affectionate. And if they kissed them, well, they’d just scrunch their noses in disgust. Having Frodo kiss her, however, was much different.

Of course, she sometimes felt he went way over the line, even if she were a normal kid, when it came to his overly protective eye. One rather chilly day, she had requested if she could go outside and ‘play.’ While in reality she had just wanted to get some fresh air and allow herself some time to think. Frodo had to think about it, seeing as how there was a slight breeze. He allowed her to go outside eventually, but not until he made sure she was bundled up enough.

He made her put on five extra pairs of knickers, and triple wrapped her in one of his cloaks that was much too big for her, making her look like a cocoon. Then he gently shoved her out the door to go play, warning her not to wander out of his sight, but of course, with all her layers of clothing, she could barely walk. This resulted in her tripping over his cloak by accident, and falling into the dirt, only to have Frodo immediately rush to her aid, and carry her back into the house. All because it was cold outside. Yeesh.

On this particular day, he took her shopping for new school clothes down in Hobbiton. Oh, how she dreaded the idea of going to school. She hated school as a kid. Being cooped up inside all day. All that time that could have been spent horseback riding or fencing. This time, however, wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the first. All she would have to do was sit in a classroom all day and pretend like she was learning something. All the while, plotting her escape since she would know everything they’d be teaching anyway.

Frodo didn’t know the first thing about clothing a five-year-old human girl. The clothes she had been wearing were given to him by the kind Fernberry couple, who already had daughters of their own. Of course, Alana couldn’t fit into clothes that were made for a five-year-old hobbit. So she would have to settle for clothes made for a ten-year-old.

Alana stared in disgust at all the dresses in the shop window, as Frodo held her little hand tight in his and scratched his mop of dark brown curls, contemplating on what he should do. Well, might as well pick some outfits out for her and help her try them on. Alana knew this was coming, and it made her blush. How humiliating. To top it off, none of these dresses looked appealing. But they were children’s clot And And who did she have to attract anyway? Might as well pick some plain dresses and get it over with.

She tugged on Frodo’s arm. Frodo looked down and smiled. “See some dresses you like already, dear? My little girl is already blossoming into a little lady.”

They were suddenly halted by a shrill female voice near by. “Yooohoooo!” Frodo and Alana both stopped and cringed. They turned to see a bouncy Estella Bolger waving at them from across the street frantically, her well kept blonde curls jiggling about her face. At this sight Frodo forced a grin, and Alana stuck her tongue out and looked as though she might puke. There was that weird lady with the glazed over eyes again. Alana felt that she wasn’t quite all there. And unfortunately, she loved children. Especially little girls like Alana.

She tried tugging on Frodo’s arm harder. “Come on, daddy. Let’s go buy some dresses.”

“Just a minute, baby. We have to greet Miss Estella. We can’t be rude, love.”

Alana groaned. The pretty, yet bubbly Bolger, picked up her light velvet blue dress, and gleefully trotted over to greet them. Alana found herself nearly hiding behind her guardian. “Hullo, Mr. Baggins!” she gleamed. She leaned down and peeked behind Frodo trying to get a glimpse of Alana, who almost seemed to be using his cloak as a shield. “And Hewo, Alana. Are we Dwess shopping today?” Her and that annoying baby talk. Alana had to bite her tongue in order to avoid making some snide remark.

“Hullo, Estella lass,” said Frodo, straining to keep his smile. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Estella. She was a sweet lass. But sometimes her presence was unintentionally annoying. “Yes, Alana and I are attempting to buy her some school dresses. But I’m not really used to…”

Estella cut him off. “I’ll help! I know all about dress sizes. Especially little girl ones.” Frodo was hardly surprised. He had to hear all about her love of children from Merry, and his whining on how she would keep bringing up the subject and dragged him shopping while subconsciously leading him to toy shops, or the children’s section in clothing stores. Although, she just might be able to lend him a helping hand with this situation.

It somehow led to Estella guiding Frodo and Alana around the little shop picking out dress after dress and handing them to Frodo for his little girl to try on, all the while Alana was jerking his arm and pinning him with sharp glances whenever she got the chance “Oooh, these are just so adorable!” squealed the unnaturally ecstatic lady as she scanned the racks of little girl dresses. Frodo just stood back and let her do all the work. Estella motioned for Alana to come to her, but Alana just scrunched her nose in disgust and shook her little head rapidly. “Awe, its okay, honey. I just want to see what these would look like on you.”

Alana shook her head again. “Ah, uh.” She hid behind Frodo.

Estella frowned, and Frodo sighed then turned around and kneeled in front of his daughter. “Come on Alana, luvvie. She could help you more with dress sizes than I can. The sooner we find some that fit you, the sooner we can leave. Now be a good girl, and I promise I’ll take you to the candy store after, kay?”

Alana grumbled, but decided it was best not to argue. She wasn’t going to win anyway. He was right. She would try on some dresses and then get the hell out of there. She walked over to the goofy lady, and Estella held up an atrocious looking, frilly polkadot dress in front of her. Alana had a look of pure agony. Estella excitedly piled nch nch of dresses in the little girls arms, until her little face was hidden, and she looked like a walking pile of clothes. Estella insisted that she help her try them on, but Alana shot her a killer look and spoke as calmly as possible. “No.”

“Awe, now dearie. I think you should let me help you get them on. There’s wots of dwesses there, and some need to be tied in the back.” Estella couldn’t seem to be able to talk to Alana in a normal voice.

Alana gritted her little teeth and tried mumbling some profanity that was muffled out by the big clump of clothes she held in her arms. She turned her head a little so her face was free and so she could look at Frodo. She was giving him a ‘get rid of her’ look. Frodo eventually persuaded Estella into letting Alana try them on herself.

She found that trying dresses on turned out to be more difficult than she thought. The dresses Estella picked out for her were designed so weirdly that it took her forever to figure out how to get them on. All these weird, scratchy, frilly things in the wahe ghe grunted and growled in frustration and nearly ripped a couple while attempting to dress herself in these ridiculous kiddie outfits. “Are you alright, Alana honey? Do you need Miss Estella or me to come in there?” Frodo called from the other side of the dressing stall curtain.

“No! I’m fine, daddy.” Alana would respond rather grouchily. She eventually stuck with the plainest and most comfortable dress and came out with it. “I’m done.” She said dryly.

Frodo’s eyebrows raised a bit. “You didn’t show us what your other dresses looked like, Alana honey.”

“I tried them on already, daddy. That’s what took so long. I want a doz…I mean I want a lot like this one. Then can we go home?”

But Estella wasn’t quite through with her yet. “Ooooh, sweetie. Try on just one more for me. Pweeaaase?” She brushed some hair of Aof Alana’s eyes, then held out the most ‘frillyish’ dress that Alana had seen yet. A light pink one with sewn in colorful hearts all over it and a large yellow smiley face on the chest. It was ludicrous. The colors clashed with everything.

Alana sneered at Estella. “Look, lady. There’s no way I’m trying that thing on. It’s hideous!” Estella’s eyes widened at Alana’s choice of words and her insolent tone.

“Alana,” Frodo spoke warningly. She glanced up at her guardian, and he shot her a stern look. “Remember what we talked about.”

This time, Alana cowered under his gaze and gulped. She must watch her mouth and actions, for she wasn’t in the mood to be punished right now and certainly not in front of this ding bat. She went back in the dressing stall to try it on. She did it so quickly in her fit of rage, that she found she couldn’t figure out how to get the darn thing on correctly, and ended up getting stuck in it. Great. Time to swallow her pride. “Um, daddy? Need help.”

Estella’s ears twitched and she immediately spoke up. “I can help you, de..”

“No. Want daddy. Daddy only.” Alana cut her off.

Estella frowned, and Frodo pushed back the curtain and let himself into the dressing stall. He looked down and couldn’t hold back a smirk as he saw his little girl entangled in the frilly colorful dress. “You seem to have gotten yourself trapped, little one.” One of her arms was stuck in the dress and the other caught up in the air. Frodo kneeled down and helped her pull it on all the way.

When Alana walked out Estella nearly fell on the floor from swooning over how adorable she was. Alana’s face flushed. She couldn’t take anymore of this. She started faking a child whine. “Daaaaddy. I’m tired. Wanna go now!”

“Okay, okay sweetie. We’ll be leaving soon.” Frodo assured her. But Alana was already trying to drag him to the counter to pay for her selected dresses and leave. She was still wearing the colorful frilly dress that Estella had picked out, but right now she didn’t care. She just wanted to escape, and avoid suffering from any further humiliation. They bid Estella farewell, and Alana breathed a sigh of relief.

*

“Well, my little cutie, that dress DOES look quite pretty on you.” Frodo chuckled as he walked with his little girl down through Hobbiton while carrying a bag full of new dresses. He noticed how Alana kept glancing down at her dress and grumbling.

Just when she thought she was going to be free, Frodo ended up bumping into a rather chubby hobbit and his seemingly obese daughter. Mr. Hornblower, who lived out by Michel Delving, immediately started talking Frodo’s ear off. He greeted Frodo with a hearty hello, and Alana silently groaned under her breath when the two male hobbits clapped each other on the back and acted as though they hadn’t seen each other for a while. This meant they would be talking longer thae ree really cared for.

Mr. Hornblower held his daughter’s stubby little hand in his, her other hand clasped tightly around a rather large and melting chocolate ice cream cone. It was dripping on her hand, and she immediately lapped it up with her tongue and sucked it up in her plump little face. Alana grimaced. The girl was a bit taller, and much, much larger than Alana was. Well, make that wider.

Alana started tugging on Frodo’s sleeve. “Daddddy! Wanna go now!”

Frodo looked down and patted her head. “Shhh. Just a minute, sweetie. Daddy wants to talk to Mr. Hornblower. We’ll go soon. Promise. Just be patient.” He gave Alana a gentle shove towards Mr. Hornblower’s daughter. “Why don’t you two little ladies get to know each other while your daddies talk?”

*
Alana was grumbling to herself as her faster father was busy talking to his old friend. She leaned against a thick tree, and crossed her arms, mumbling profanities under her breath, while Mr. Hornblower’s plump little girl focused earnestly on her ice cream cone. “So…,” She said in between slurps. “What’s your name? And how come you look nothing like your daddy?”

Alana rolled her eyes. “I’m Alana. And I take after my human, dark sorceress mother whom my daddy had sexual intercourse with in order to have me.”

The large child looked at her confused. “Setule innercourse? What’s that?”

Alana rolled her eyes again. She had to remember that this was a young child, and wouldn’t understand her choice of sarcasm. “Never mind,” she sighed.

The plump girl took Alana’s hand and shook it, surprising Alana with her brute strength. Alana’s eyes widened and she winced. “I’m Blossom. My daddy named me Blossom ‘cause I’m so dainty! Like a purty lil’ spring flower!” She let out a loud, low, belly laugh causing some of her flab to jiggle.

Alana managed to get her hand back. She checked it for any shattered bones. It was now sticky from melted ice cream. Alana tried wiping it off on her new dress with a disgusted look. Not that it mattered. She hated this dress anyway. “Dainty. Right.”

Blossom brought her freckled face downward and looked at Alana’s feet. “Why are your feet so small? And where’s all the hair at?”

Alana let out another heavy sigh, and looked over to where Frodo was still conversing with Blossom’s father. She looked back at the large redheaded girl. “I was born with a defect.”

Blossom gave her another confused look. “Huh?”

“An evil wizard shrunk my feet. And shaved all the hair off.”

“Oh.” Blossom started carelessly running her fingers through Alana’s hair. “Your hair is so straight and dark and shiny!”

Alana felt her hair sticking to the girl’s fingers and she growled. “Hey!” She yanked her head away from Blossom’s hand only to lose a few hairs to her sticky palm. “Don’t touch my hair!”

The girl frowned. “I just wanted to see what you’ve done to it! It can’t be real! Are you wearing a wig?”

“Don’t touch me, damn it!” Alana growled. The taller, wider child was leaning over her and already trying to feel her hair again, when she gasped at Alana’s choice of words. She jolted from the shock, causing her melting scoop of chocolate ice cream to slip off its cone and land right on top of Alana’s dark head. Alana didn’t move for a few seconds. Her sharp amber eyes widened when she felt the icy cold substance dripping down her forehead and over her ears.

Blossom pouted. “My ice cream!”

*
“Well, my little one. This is going to be quite a challenge to clean out.” Frodo frowned down at his little girl as he led her back home to Bag End hastily. Blossom had dropped a rather large chunk of ice cream on Alana’s tiny head, and he wanted to get home before the remainder of it embedded itself in her hair, making it even harder to scrub out. The Hobbiton Ice cream shop seemed to love putting extra sugar and other junk in their ice cream to give it more flavor. But all this did was make it sticky, unhealthy and very stainable if it got in one’s clothes.

Alana grumbled and muttered quiet profanities under her breath. She couldn’t believe that the hobbit she had been talking to was merely ten. She would surely be the size of an Oliphaunt by the time she reached adulthood.

Frodo led his little girl to the washroom and drew her a bath. He immediately took a warm damp wash cloth and tried scrubbing out some of the stains that had found their way into Alana’s brand new dress. Frodo frowned and shook his head. The stains weren’t going to come out it seemed. “A brand new dress. Pity. Well, children will be children.” When he turned away, a tiny smirk pursed Alana’s lips. At least there was some good to come out of having sticky chocolate ice cream spilled all over her. Her atrocious dress was ruined.

Frodo finished drawing his daughter a warm bath, checking the water with his fingers about five times like he always did so she wouldn’t burn her smooth young skin. He turned to Alana and bit his lip. Well, he had already seen most of her, but this would be the first time he planned to bathe her all the way. He couldn’t trust her to get that sugary goop out of her hair by herself. He gave her a gentle look and smiled. “Alana luvvie. Daddy is going to have to help you get that stuff out of your hair.”

Alana looked up at him and gulped. She knew how she would have acted in this situation when she first moved in with Frodo. But now, she really didn’t want to protest. But she thought that maybe she should whine a little so he didn’t get confused by her sudden change in attitude. So she forced a “No, daddy. I can do it myself. I think.”

Frodo frowned. “Now, dearie. You’re just a little girl. If you don’t let daddy help you, that stuff can stain your pretty hair forever! You wouldn’t want that!”

Alana had to hold back from laughing. He was trying to scare her with a little white lie again. But instead she forced herself to form a shocked expression and put her arms up. “Oh daddy! I don’t want my hair ruined! Help me!” She motioned for him to take her dress off.

Frodo nearly smirked to himself. “That’s my good girl.” He pulled the dress off of her little body and laid it aside carefully. He frowned at the now wet stains. He would surely have to talk to Miss Rosie about how to get stains out. She seemed to be good at that. He turned back to his little human, who blushed and was subconsciously crossing her arms over her chest. Then she stopped herself. She realized there were no breasts to cover up. Just two undeveloped, pink baby nipples. She let out a heartfelt sigh, and Frodo gave her a concerned look. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m fine,” she assured him. Then she expected ho lio lift her up and place her in the tub. But he wasn’t doing it. What was he waiting for? She looked down and noticed she still had her knickers on. Oh, that. He was waiting for her to take them off herself. She slipped her fingers into the waist band, and avoided his gaze as she slowly slid them off, trying with all her might to not make herself appear as a grown woman seductively undressing in front of a she she highly fancied. She stopped and pushed them down to her ankles, then kicked them off sloppily as any normal five-year-old would do.

Frodo smiled at her shyness. She seemed to be blushing from head to toe. Most children her age couldn’t care less about who saw them naked. They’d run naked in the fields if they could. At this thought, Frodo’s smile faded. He remembered why she was probably so shy. It brought his protective, nurturing feelings to the surface. He took her little hand in his. “Okay, sweetie. Let daddy help you into the tub, and we’ll get this goop off of your pretty little head.”

He helped her step into the tub, and Alana let out a mature sigh of pleasure. The warm water felt good on her skin. “Now, luvvie, I want you to lay backwards for daddy and soak your head,” Frodo commanded gently. A bit bit her lip and obeyed. This ordeal was going to make it extra difficult for her to hide her pleasure. He started massaging her scalp with his gentle hands. She fought the urge to grab one of his wrists and guide his hand over her chest and belly.

Slowly, but surely, the sugary goop broke from Alana’s strands with the help of Frodo’s slender fingers. He motioned her to sit up again, and he continued to scrub her scalp.
Barely had Alana survived the scalp scrubbing without too many subdued moans of pleasure when Frodo grabbed a sponge, dipped it in the soapy lukewarm water and started stroking her petite back.

Oh, no! That was too cruel!
Alana idly wondered if she could get out of this by faking a sudden nausea or restlessness. Restlessness was good! It would suit her age. However, as the soft sponge moved down her spine, her resolve to carry out her plan went with it. Down! To make matters worse, her foster father began humming a hobbit children's tune to make her comfortable so that she wouldn't mind being naked so much. He did it in all innocence, still presuming that her shyness and reluctance towards being naked in front of him derived from the terrible ordeal she had been through before coming to him. So he hummed. In a full, mature and pleasant baritone, carrying a tune nicely. To add to the torture, his phrasing was even husky and soft.
It very nearly drove her insane.

But, damn, he had good hands. Alana had a tendency to subdivide men into two categories: Those with nice, but boring hands, and those with absolutely magnificently sensuous hands; unfortunately – or perhaps 'of course'? – Frodo's hands fell into the latter.
She had to bite her lip hard to suppress the kittenish, gluttural moan that was about to work its way up through her throat as Frodo's right hand moved smoothly in round circles while he was supporting her with his left. His hand was so big compared to her arm that his fingers went round her miniscule arm to rest half their length on her chest. Shit! This wasn't fair.

Having done her back, the clever hand continued round her narrow hips to connect with her belly button. Here she got an unexpected period of grace as Frodo decided to play a childish game of hide and seek.

"Where's the button? Where's the cutie button?" he smiled and covered it with the sponge, "Oh, there's the cutie button!" he exclaimed and removed the sponge with a big grin. Alana didn't even dare roll her eyes; she was busy not rolling in the tub with laughter. When he got tired of the game, he moved on to scrub her belly button very, very slowly, being the thorough caretaker that he was, making sure it was reeeeeaally clean. Alana gritted her teeth. Did he have to be this close to her abdomen?

Of course, he did! He was her god damn foster father and supposed to take care of her. Alana got a grip and tried imagining a big ugly brute in front of her to subdue her strong urge to kiss him passionately and take gruesome advantage of him. Only,n shn she did that, she felt like flattening him – now he looked too much like some of her opponents. Oh, a nerdy geek, then. Yes, that would do it! It wasn't her handsome and sensuous hobbit caretaker that was bathing her; instead it was a geeky moron with unruly, oily hair and squinting eyes, and he… oh, dear.

Frodo had done her chest and was mg dog downwards, and it was more than poor Alana and her mature sexual instinct could take. When his soft touch reached her abdomen, gently poking her to part her small wet thighs, the moan she had been suppressing with all her might, slipped out. Loudly, intimately, fervent and deep. The inevitable disaster had happened!

Frodo looked up with surprise and his hand mercifully stopped.
"What did you say, little one?"

Oh, hell!

Alana's brain was in an uproar to come up with a probable explanation. He thought she was a baby who had been raped. She would have to use that now to her advantage.

"Can you… will you…? Let me??? Do this by myself, daddy?" she babbled, her confusion adding to the illusion.
She had clamped shut her thighs very, very tightly, but Frodo's hand was still lying in her lap. Her squeezing her short legs together helped her shiver just a tad.

Frodo felt tears come to his eyes. The trauma was still so deep in her, and he didn't know how to help her heal. Would it be right to make her part her legs so that she would understand the whe would do no harm to her? Or would the damage be irreparable? Was it better to let her have it her way and leave her to it?
Either way, she needed to know that he would never, ever harm her in any way. So he lifted his hand, stroked her nape lovingly with his left hand and said:

"You do know, don't you, Alana honey? That I would never, never, ever hurt you in any way?"
Alana frowned. How to get out of that one? Of course, he wn'tn't harm her. She knew that well enough. But she had to act as if she was heavily traumatized by a child rape. Why, had she still been a woman, she would blatantly use her knowledge of men…
Alana stopped mid track. Of course. That was the answer.

"That's what the other man said too, daddy," she said glumly, looking down.
There was silence for a while, and then Frodo grabbed a towel and lifted his little precious baby out of the water, cradling her. He sat on a chair, rocking his bundle, holding her tight and rubbing her gently with the towel in slow, non-threatening circles.
"Listen to me," he whispered, having severe problems hiding his croaking-with-tears voice, "I love you more than the world. I know that there are ugly men out there who doesn't knoat lat love is, but I give you my word that I would never, never do to you what they did to you. Not in a million years."

At this point, Alana almost swore.

"I will protect you, nurse you, take care of you, feed you and bring you up to be a fine little lady, but I will never force you to do anything unnatural. Do you understand that, sweetie?"

He had never stopped rubbing and stroking her lovingly, and it was driving-her-crazy as she sat there on his lap with her privates completely naked and exposed, keenly feeling a bump underneath her that was, if not aroused, then manly all the same. Goddamn it! Not counting the rape, how long had it been? Waaaaay too long and despite her unnaturally small body and completely un-congenial physique, she was still a woman – a woman with needs and urges. Shit!

Her inward profanity continued as Frodo persisted in caressing her. In his book, his touch was a testimony of trust and love: I am touching you, but I am not hurting you – it has no sexual content. However, to Alana, his touch was a testimony of one thing only: I am one heck of a lover and you can't have me!

Frodo carried his little daughter back to the tub. Alana wasn't quite sure what he was planning to do, but whatever it was, she hoped to gawd that it would be over soon.

No such luck. Frodo, apparently, had decided to follow up his luck and bathe her all the way. He carefully put her back into the water, instantly grabbed the sponge and continued to clean her privates before she had a chance to cringe or protest. Alana gasped, clenched her teeth and eyes and held her breath.

And she still held her breath as the sponge, incruciatingly slowly, slid smoothly between her feminine folds, only just brushing her tiny little clit, back over her soft hips and then in between her tiny buttocks. The little sensitive nub that she hadn't been able to activate in her bed, went off the scale. Oh, man. She knew that all children have the sexual instinct and mechanism, though only in its rudimentary form and definitely not ready for anything, but hers was increased by her mature mind.
It was torture.

When Frodo finally let her out of the tub, she was spent, strained and shaking. All from keeping her arousal at bay. If he ever found out, she would have a looooot of explaining to do.

*

It had come!
Her first day at school.
Alana took a deep breath.

She was standing in front of her bedroom mirror while her loving father was brushing her long silky hair with the colour of the misty night. Like Estella Bolger, he clearly loved touching it and handling it, but contrary to Estella, Alana enjoyed every touch he bestowed on her dark head. He looked proud. Just as proud as any father who was about to let his daughter embark on a journey into the fascinating world of education. But he also showed a hint of a smirk.
"Now, darling. You must listen to what the teacher says. I know that you know an awful lot that the other kids don't. But you must still listen and behave like a good little girl. Do you promise daddy that, honey?"

A deep sigh. "I will do my best, sir," she said with a very, very tired voice. Frodo's gentle hand stopped momentarily, the hobbit slightly taken aback by the adulter than adult tone of voice she carried.
"It'll be all right, sweetie," he said softly, "you'll make lots of nice new friends, and daddy will be there for you the first day."

Nice new friends, indeed. She didn't need nice new friends. Basically she needed Juggernaut's head on a plate and her estate back. Oh… and her guardian's body close to her adult one, of course. The last thought made her blush slightly and utter a suppressed giggle. She almost winced; arrrrgh, it sounded so… girlish in her own ears.
And in Frodo's, no doubt. He smiled broadly at her.
"There you go," he said and gave her thick straight hair one last sweep with the brush, "you'll love it. I promise!"

It had all the indications of being a cloudy day. The Indian summer that Hobbiton had enjoyed for so long was beginning to draw on an end and the friskier and snappier winds bore witness of an approaching autumn with very fierce air and cooler temperatures. Alana loved it. She cherished tough weather; it was what she had been brought up with.

But her over-concerned foster father stopped and mumbled something about a 'too light dress' as he tried to pull down her skirt in a futile attempt to prolong the seam in the middle of the street. Alana had enjoyed the cool wind playing with her legs – now she inadvertently jumped at the sensation of Frodo's long and sensitive hands on her knees and shins.

"Daddy, I'm not cold," she said sharply. Frodo let go of her legs as if he had burnt himself. Without a woe toe took her hand and they proceeded down the street to the school that was situated just around the corner next to Miller Curly's house with the tall, polychrome lilacs. She felt how he had stiffened at the tone of her voice, and she regretted that she had to play the role of the raped and traumatized child, but she had to divert his attention from her obvious signs of pleasure every time he touched her in the nether regions.

The Daughter of the Seven Winds shook her head free of naughty thoughts as they entered the colourful portal of Hobbiton School. Now, how cosy was that, she thought with a smirk. Above the doorframe a row of little goblins were engaged in a merry little dance together with laughing piglets, each with a different kind of hat on their tubby little heads. The door itself was painted in merry shades of light colours, and mobiles were seen hanging from the ceiling the second the visitor stepped over the worn threshold that creaked a bit under the weight of a crowd of eager young kids and their broad hairy feet.

Alana, however, soon lost her smirk as the other children began to crowd her and push her. Frodo tried to guide them through the pack of hobbitlings with a gentle yet firm hand, but he couldn't stop the tide of Hobbiton's youth surrounding her. It was annoying. She felt like decking them to get them going and stop crowding her, but that wouldn't do, obviously, so she clung to her daddy's hand. Frodo mistook her squeeze for fear and anxiety and leaned down to pat her.
"It's okay, Alana darling. Don't be afraid."
"Right," came the dry reply. The situation was ludicrous. She, who had faced armies and fought a thousand men. She was comforted by a hobbit in a sc roo room, full of kids. Alana started to laugh spontaneously.

Frodo straightened with a happy smile on hace.ace. It was going to be all right.

*

"That's right, darlings," the mathematics mistress said loudly. "If you use your fingers, you can count to ten. All together now…"

A choir of shrill and moderately bored kids' voice rose in the room and made the air vibrate in pure apprehension. Only one kid did not chime in. She sat instead with an open mouth in shock. They were counting on fingers????????
The mistress noticed at once, of course. Frodo suppressed an inner sigh. Here we go again.

"Alana, dear," the math wiz said with authority, "it is not hard. See? You take one finger at a time and count…"

Alana whipped around her oval little head, an almost violent motion that made her hair wave around her face like a horse's tail on a hot summer's day, and nailed the poor unsuspecting mistress with the funny looking power bun.
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15…." and she rapidly continued until a hundred, comepletely shellshocking the poor teacher.

The silence that followed was almost noisy.

Finally the mistress gulped and asked hoarsely:
"How did you do that?"
"I included my toes," came the sarcastic reply.

And the class erupted in uncontrollable mirth. Alana permitted herself a soft smile as she heard her foster father's clear laughter through the choir of shrill kiddie laughs.

The next class wasn't any more interesting for an increasingly bored Alana. The first class had been maths, the second was reading. Naturally, this was nowhere near a challenge for her. What did prove to be difficult, however, was stifling her continuous yawning. Now and thhe whe would feel a gentle shove in her back as her guardian tried to keep her awake, but knowing her ability to read, couldn't but agree that this must indeed seem very tedious to his overly intelligent daughter.

Recess time. The room came very suddenly extremely alive. As the children approached Alana in curiosity, Frodo approached Mistress Sunflower.
"I am glad to talk to you, Mr. Baggins," the nobly looking lady said with a voice that shivered a bit, "I believe we must discuss the appropriate level for Alana."
"I agree," F sai said, almost attaining the same degree of sarcasm as his daughter.
"Her ability to read is most surprising and quite frankly nearly unbelievable for such a young child."
"Perhaps humans have other ways, other traditions and a different rate of maturing," the concerned father mused.
"Perhaps," Ma'am Sunflower granted him, "however, whatever the reason, she is clearly too advanced for this level, and we cannot let her stay in this grade. She will not socialize appropriately, nor will she ever learn anything."
"What do you suggest?"
"It was Mistress Butterfly's estimate that she should start in this grade? I will take it up with her, show her Alana's results and then we will come to you
F
Frodo nodded. That solution sounded reasonable. They both turned to look at the firm little human girl, who was already trying to extricate herself of sticky little it kit kiddy arms.
The child had been reading his Red Book, for crying out loud. How to top that and still let her be a child? Impossible.

Last class was sports! And it was obvious that Alana felt much more at ease with this subject. Here she did not need to lower her intellect, she never got the chance to fall asleep and she secretly cherished any chance to train her too depressingly small kiddy muscles.

Frodo watched from afar with concern as the older kids threw his little baby a ball. The game was called 'Chieftain Round' and basically was about chasing the ball and 'conquer' it from the Chieftain's men. Everything went fine… until a tall kid near Alana got the ball and she decided she wanted it. Ogo Skinnyfeet was about three inches taller than Alana, but that didn't stop the firm little human from twisting the lanky boy's arm around expertly and resolutely retrieve the ball. A gasp ran through the watching grown-ups as they saw the boy yelp and drop the prize.

*

Leaving behind her three frustrated teachers and a classroom full of mystified and thrilled hobbit children (and one with a strained arm), Alana was dragged home by her father. He wasn't exactly steaming angry or anything, but he couldn't let his daughter get awath mth maiming other kids. Not even the ones bigger than herself.

Alana felt it. bondbond between them had been strengthened by her conscientious daddy's method of discipline, and now she keenly picked up his intent almost before he knew it himself. It was uncanny.

She bit her lip. What was uncanny was the thrill of anticipation she felt in her heart. She was literally looking forward to being punished! God damn it! This couldn't continue. At some point Frodo would feel it and then he would be disgusted. Then, what? Would he take her to a head doctor? Leave her to someone else? Like *gulp* Estalla Bolger? Heaven forbid.
No, whatever happened, Alana must control her reactions to this incredibly hot and attractive hobbit.
Whatever it took!