For Iorhael, who wanted anything with Frodo. This takes place between "Sam's Hat" and "The Proposal", but it is not necessary to have read those.

The Promise

Foreyule 1419 SR

Rosie heard his whimpers as she was passing his closed door. She’d gone to the kitchen for some tea to help her sleep, as the nights were still difficult for her. Knowing the Ruffians were gone and the Shire cleared out, all thanks to the Travelers, didn’t always ease her mind once the sun went down. They called them nightmares for a reason, and Mr. Frodo seemed to be having one of his own. 

Rosie paused at the door and waited a few moments. More whimpering sounded, so she tapped the door gently and tested the knob. The door was unlocked and opened silently. Mr. Frodo was in his little bed in the guest room, the sheets pushed down and tangling his ankles. His brow was knotted with whatever he was dreaming about, and Rose guessed that the barely audible whimpers were screams in his dream-filled ears; sounds were always louder in dreams than they were in waking. 

She took a cautious step into the room, keeping an arm’s length from the bed, just in case. “Mr. Frodo,” she whispered. “Wake up, sir. You’re having a terror.”

Frodo’s lips moved in silent speech. He hadn’t heard her, but she heard what he spoke next and it sent a chill down her spine. He all but breathed the words, as though even in his sleep he had not the strength to say them fully. “Please... Not Sam...”

“What about Sam?” Rosie asked. That was one of the things she had nightmares about, especially after the Battle of Bywater, when she and her mother tended his wounds. Seeing him with his shirt off, so thin and with so many healing wounds, most acquired long before the Battle, made her worry about him more than she had in the entire year he’d been gone. He’d finally told her some of it the other day, but she knew he’d held back the worst parts. Now Mr. Frodo was having a terror involving Sam - about something that happened? Or only might have happened?

With caution, she reached out and shook his shoulder. “Mr. Frodo, sir? Please wake up.”

What had Sam said to do? Ah yes. Primula Baggins’s lullaby. It was a standard lullaby sung the Shire over, but Mistress Primula had rewritten the last verse just for her son. Rose sat in the chair by the bed and began to hum. When his tension eased, she started singing under her breath. 

Goodbye Sun, you’ll see Her soon

On the other side of midnight

But for now, you’ll greet the Moon

And drift asleep under starlight

May your dreams reflect your days

And bring you only ever delight

May you sleep beneath the rays

Of the soft and gentle moonlight

Go to sleep, close your eyes

I’ll let nothing ever hurt you

Drift away beneath the skies

In your dreams I will protect you 

Have no fear, I’ll be right here

Watching over you always

Never far, forever near

For now and all of your days

Rest my child, sleep my love

Till the stars go down to their rest

You’ll rise in morn with Sun above

As the Moon goes down in the West

You are joy and you are mine

For me a beautiful sight

When you laugh, your eyes shine

I love you with all my might.

He was calm and awake by the time she was done. His eyes caught the light of the single candle she had brought in with her, and when she stopped singing he smiled tiredly. “Sam taught you that.”

“He did.”

“I sang that to him when he sprung his ankle at Bag End. Miss Willow had just put his cast on, and he was so worried he’d end up crippled, so I sung him that song to calm him. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he remembered it.”

Rosie smiled. Sam had told her about that once his ankle was healed and threat of being crippled was gone. That story, among others, had been the reason she hadn’t worried when she heard Sam had gone off with his master into the Blue. She’d known Frodo would look after Sam, just as Sam would look after him. What Frodo said next took her smile away.

“Take care of him for me, Rose.”

“Of course, Mr. Frodo, but you’ll be here to take care of him too,” Rosie said, trying not to remember his strangled begging in his sleep. Just what had Sam neglected to tell her, and did she really want to know?

“I will be, for a while at least.”

“He’ll be distraught without you, sir.”

“But he’ll have you and you’ll have a family. You’ll take care of him.”

Rosie laughed and refused to let any tears spill at the sadness in the master’s voice. “Not if he never proposes."

Now Frodo did smile, a glint of the old mischief in his eyes. “I’ve found that many times waiting is overrated.”

Rosie smirked in return. “Aye, sir?”

“Oh aye. You ask Sam to marry you, and you’ll see he won’t be long to return the offer.”

“You are quite the rascal, aren’t you, Mr. Frodo?” she asked and laughed.

Frodo chuckled too. “One of the best.” Then he reached down for the sheets and she helped him straighten them. She refrained from tucking him in, though she was sorely tempted to do so. Once he was settled, he rolled onto his side, closed his eyes and drifted off to peaceful sleep, a small smile on his lips. 

Rosie watched him sleep for a time and decided that whatever he had dreamt about Sam, it was best she didn’t know, if only to spare Frodo from the answering.

GF 12/21/11