The Elves Sing

Summary: “Esme, the boy just lost his parents! No matter whom our family decides later on to take care of him, Frodo needs every ounce of attention we can offer now.
Rated: G
Characters: Frodo, Bilbo, Saradoc, Esmeralda
AN: My greatest thanks to two betas of mine, slipperieslope and truly_bohemian. I really appreciate your time, suggestions, and words of encouragement.

Outside, the sun had long withdrawn to the west. The hushed breeze turned wintry as mists thickened, gusting through the canopy of leaves, coercing every mum to seal the window and save their brood from any harm the wind could bring. The inhabitants of Brandy Hall were not exempted. One by one the round windows and doors were shut and locked. And one by one every parent brought their children into the bedrooms and tucked them warmly in their beds.

One by one everyone retreated through the hall into their bed chambers. They left the previously lively and crowded sitting room, rendering it bare, under the watching of a pair of forlorn eyes, their owner shrinking himself in a corner of a cold couch, wringing his fingers firmly among each other.

His anguish was disrupted by the slamming open of the door by someone, and the sounds of another who was following from behind. Rolls of laughter of drunken hobbits followed along before they were halted abruptly.

“Frodo!” Bilbo’s voice ensued. Frodo tilted up as if physically hauled by it; his lips were pressed tightly together though their quiver was undeniably evident. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in bed yet?”

There was still no sound coming from the lad, and Bilbo and Saradoc now noticed that Frodo’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Oh, my dear,” sighed Bilbo, but Saradoc, as if remembering something, jumped and half shouted to someone, whilst dashing through the hall.

“For the sake of the moon, Esme!”

His wife appeared in an instant at the door of their bedroom, looking worried but annoyed at the same time.

“Saradoc, you get in and stop yelling like a doe in labor! What’s it about?”

Saradoc took a deep breath and realized he had shouted too loudly. He squeezed Esmeralda’s shoulders gently and spoke in his softest voice possible.

“Esme dear. Have you forgotten we have Frodo tonight? He’s alone on the couch not knowing where to sleep and what to wear. Do you realize he might not have his nightclothes with him at all?”

Esmeralda gasped, eyes showing her concern but her brow furrowed with incomprehension.

“My good Lord. Saradoc, how could I forget him? But then again, are we supposed to be the ones taking care of him?”

Saradoc huffed, gaping at his wife in disbelief.

“Esme, the boy just lost his parents! No matter whom our family decides later on to take care of him, Frodo needs every ounce of attention we can offer now. Look for yourself how wretched the lad is. Oh, and you’d better bring something for him to sleep in.”

Back in the sitting room, Frodo was curling up with his head on Bilbo’s lap and his hands folded over his chest. His eyes were clenched shut and his breath was slow but a bit ragged as if he had just been crying. Perhaps he was, and feeling Frodo shiver with tears, Bilbo ran his hand through the boy’s hair.

One could catch the older hobbit’s soothing voice. It seemed that Bilbo was singing his cousin a song or two.

It’s summer snow in the deep blue sea
I try to touch, but it fades away
It must be a dream I will never get
Just like my love that’s crying for you

“It’s the elf’s song, Frodo dear. Lovely, isn’t it? Though a tad glum.”

There was no reply from Frodo. The lad seemed to catch his breath again.

“Shouldn’t be sad for long, Frodo. You know your momma and daddy loved you so much.” But Frodo shook his head. Bilbo inhaled and exhaled, and felt rather relieved at the sight of Esmeralda, and Saradoc behind her.

“There’s your aunt now,” said Bilbo, stirring Frodo’s shoulder a bit. “Look. She’s brought you some night wear.”

Frodo did not want to upset anyone and indeed felt silently thankful that his relatives had not abandoned him. He rose from Bilbo’s lap and started to divest himself of his day clothes. Receiving the night shirt from Esmeralda and slipping his head through it, Frodo then curved his mouth into a small smile.

“Thank you, Aunt Esme,” he murmured as he bowed his head, his eyes catching inadvertently the loose supposed-to-be-short sleeves that went way over his elbows to the middle of his forearms.

“How’ve you been feeling, Frodo?” asked Esmeralda tenderly as she stroked one side of the lad’s face.

“B-better,” Frodo stammered. His voice stayed low as he made an attempt to speak further. “Bilbo’s sung me some elf’s songs. They are b-beautiful.” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

Esmeralda could not stand it anymore. She took Frodo into her arms and held him close.

“You’ll be fine, child. You’ll be fine.”

AN: Song taken from Summer Snow by Sissel.