Traces

By songspinner

Disclaimer: The usual…these characters don’t belong to me but to J.R.R. Tolkien and to New Line, Peter, Fran, and Philippa. I make no profit from this story except any positive feedback that happens to wander in my direction...

A/N - A mix of movieverse and book canon. The lyrics in italics at the start of each chapter are from "Get Out the Map", which belong to the Indigo Girls. Sometimes stories just seem to write themselves. Now if they would only announce themselves at a more convenient time than close to midnight or the middle of dinner…

A cup of peppermint tea with honey sat steaming on the bedside table. Rose could smell it as she woke and knew that Sam had picked the mint fresh from the garden that morning, just for her. Stretching in warm sunbeams as she sat up, she propped herself up against the pillows to drink the tea. Arthritic joints creaked a little and she detected a touch of kingsfoil in the tea – Sam being thoughtful as always. They’d brought back seeds from Minas Tirith when they’d visited the first time, and Sam made sure there was always some…what did the King call it?…athelas…in the garden.

Undoubtedly attracted by the small noises she’d made sitting up in bed, Sam quietly opened the door and smiled when he saw her awake. "How are you feeling this morning, Rosie?"

"Oh, I’ll do, Sam," she replied, and patted the bed in invitation. "Were you out in the garden that early?"

"Aye. You know I was. And you know very well why…" Sam plunked himself down at the edge of the bed and kissed her good morning in a long, lingering way that took a while.

"Did you find them? All the ones she wanted?" Rose could see that he was hiding something behind his back and she desperately wanted to see it.

Her husband brought his hands around in front of him, and with them came a bundle of flowers in a glorious riot of cream, blues, greens, and lavender. Rose’s mouth opened in a silent "oh" of delight.

"They’re beautiful, Sam! Just perfect and they’ll set off her hair quite nicely. It has to be perfect! After all, it isn’t every day that the Mayor’s daughter and the Thain’s son marry. I’ll get started on it right away…" She touched the flowers with care, caressing the blossoms with wonder.

"Rosie-lass?"

She looked up at her husband, somehow surprised to hear that long-unused nickname (it had, after all, belonged to one of their daughters for some time).

"Sam, Goldie is getting married this afternoon."

"Yes, dearest. Hard to miss with all the bustling about you’ve been doing these past few weeks. That’s why the flowers, you know, for her garland." He spoke teasingly, but stopped when he saw the serious look on her face.

"Do you think…" Rose broke off what she was going to say and stared at his face, reaching out to smooth a bit of his curly hair behind his ear.

"Do I think of what?"

"Sam, my love, we’re getting old," she murmured. "And our Goldie is old enough to wed and to have little ones of her own now. Elanor and Fastred already have two…"

"Whom we’ve spoilt dreadfully this past week, you know." Sam interrupted.

"Yes, dear. Of course we have…we’re grandparents. But oh…it goes so very fast. I remember when we were that young. And I looked a great deal like Goldie does now, and now…" She gestured to her own body, grown a good deal older with years of pregnancies and nursing.

Rose closed her eyes briefly, and felt her husband’s strong hands take the warm mug of tea from her to rest it on the little table. And the soft weight of the flowers landed in her lap. "Rose, you are always beautiful to me, like the mallorn in the party field. It grew more beautiful as the years passed, too. Any changes it went through are because it was meant to. You and I have had our houseful of children, and today one of them will join with Pippin’s family as well."

Opening her eyes again, Rose looked at him and relaxed. "Ah, but Pippin’s been part of our family since your journey together."

"Yes, but now it will be official. And you and I have had our own journey together that only changed our bodies for joyful reasons. Frodo," Sam added softly. "He’d be pleased at what we’ve done, what we’ve made with what he saved for us. What he gave up…" His voice shook a little at that. "What he wanted was for us to be able to grow old, Rose. Before the eagles came, we thought that was never to happen. And then I had the chance and you’d waited for me."

"Always, Sam my dear." Rose whispered fondly.

"He said I’d be whole again, not torn in two. And so I was, whole, and we’ve had each other all these years. And now we can watch our daughter make her own life. You’ll make her wedding garland as your mother made yours. Weaving in a bit of sorrow and a lot of joy. That’s not a bad thing, growing older."

"I suppose not, Sam." And Rose smiled at her husband’s wise words. "You grew a beautiful garden here at Bag End, and we have wonderful children. I guess that grey hair and all the marks of time passing aren’t so bad after all. I can’t regret any of the time we’ve had together."

And as she had with his flowers, he touched her with care, caressing her with wonder.