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Reunion in Minas Tirith  by Baggins Babe

In Gondor in 1429, Rosie continues with her tale.

March 1428 SR

Sam felt the tension rise in him as March 13th approached. Frodo had been doing so well it would be terrible if he suffered a setback now. Sam found himself watching his master intently for signs of pain or distress, a distant look in his eyes, a spasm of pain in his neck. It had been a wet and windy March so far, and Sam had been kept busy with Mayoral duties rather than working in the garden. He tried to think optimistically but Rose knew he was worried, and so was she.To their relief and surprise the day came and went without incident. Frodo was perhaps a little sleepy, but otherwise he betrayed no signs of discomfort. In fact he himself had not noticed the date, and did not realise the 13th had passed until three days later.

       "Sam, what's the date today? I've lost all track of time, being indoors so long."

       "The sixteenth, m'dear.......of Rethe."

       "Oh! Then............I was alright on the thirteenth, wasn't I? Oh Sam, I didn't even notice!" He looked shocked, relieved and very happy. Sam took his hand for a moment and squeezed it.

       "Yes, thank the Valar! We didn't want to say anything but we were all holding our breath for you. I think you slept a bit more, but otherwise you seemed fine."

       Frodo laughed, a sound more beautiful to Sam than all the Elven music he had ever heard. "I've been practising my walking. I know the passageways of Bag End a little too well now, but at least my legs don't shake under me anymore. I do so want to go out again." He went to the cradle to fetch the fractious baby, who was teething. "The children will want to go on picnics and berrying expeditiions soon and I can't be left behind. I've spent too much time shut away and missed all the fun, and I don't want to be the boring old invalid uncle who never goes anywhere and is no fun!" He bounced Merry-lad gently on his knee. ."You don't want a boring old uncle, do you?" The baby dribbled, blew a long stream of bubbles and made a sudden grab for Frodo's pipe. "Whoa! No you don't, my lad!"

       "You'll be out soon enough. Don't want you catching a chill in that wind. When the sun's out and the wind drops perhaps we'll settle you on the seat with a blanket over you, and you can watch me do the weeding." Sam poured more tea, and rose to check the oven, where Rosie's latest batch of bread was baking.

       "Glad to see you both working so hard while I'm shopping!" said a voice, and Rosie was standing in the doorway, smiling. She carried a full basket on her arm, and some extra packages, which she handed to Frodo. "More from your admirers," she laughed. "All anxious that I convey their respects to "dear Mr Baggins" and tell you how much they long to see you out and about again!"

       Frodo grinned, and undid the various parcels, revealing pies, cakes, jams and the Valar knew what else. "Look at it this way, Rose-flower, at least it means you have less cooking to do! This is another of Mrs. Bracegirdle's steak and mushroom pies I believe, and I think it's long past lunchtime." He took three forks from the drawer and handed them round. "Tuck in, there's plenty."

       Behind his back, Rosie and Sam exchanged a smile. This was the Frodo they had longed to see.

                                                                           ************

       Frodo still had an occasional nightmare. Sometimes he woke with a start, his heart beating wildly for a moment. Now, however, he could put them aside and not remain lost in the horror for hours or days, as he used to. He would look around his bedroom, reassure himself that all was well, then settle back to sleep, or read for a little while. One afternoon he woke suddenly with a gasp, sitting up and looking around wildly before falling back on the pillows in relief. As he did so he realised he was not alone. Elanor was sitting solemnly by his bed, her brow furrowed in concern. He sat up again, and held out his hand to her.

       "It's alright, Ellie-girl. Just a bad dream and it's gone now." She burrowed against him and he draped an arm round her.

       "I thought you didn't have them any more?" She looked upset, her lower lip quivering.

       "I think I'll always have the odd one. Everyone does sometimes, dear. Even little Rose-bud has them, and she's only a baby."

       "Does it mean you're not really better?" she asked tremulously. "I thought you were going to be well for ever?"

       "I am, my lamb. I can cope with these dreams. No life is without some pain, it's part of living. If we don't feel pain we haven't truly lived. Do you understand? We learn something from all the painful things in our lives."

       She shook her head. "No. Pain isn't a good thing."

       "No, it isn't, but it teaches us something.. When you fell and cut your knee on the cellar steps, what did you learn?"

       She thought for a moment, her finger half in her mouth. "Not to run on stairs?" she said at last.

       He laughed. "Exactly! And when your brother burned his hand on the stove, what do you think he learned?"

       "That the stove is hot." She clapped her hands. "I think I see, Uncle Fro!"

       "Ah! But when Uncle Jolly tripped over that hidden log in the snow last winter and broke his wrist, was that his fault?"

       Elanor was silent for some minutes. "I don't think so...........," she said slowly. "Unless it was his fault not to be looking for hidden logs?"

       Frodo chuckled. "No, I don't think it was, Ellie-flower. I think in that instance your uncle was a victim of circumstance. And it would be silly if he went round for years saying it was his fault when it wasn't, wouldn't it?"

       He lifted her chin with his finger and thumb and looked directly into her eyes, and she nodded. "Well I was like that, blaming myself for things I couldn't help, things over which I had no control. What happened to me wasn't my fault. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time really. These things happen. No use crying over spilt milk, as your mum would say." He stretched. "Nightmares are fine if you know it's a nightmare and can turn over and go back to sleep again. The problems come when you get lost in them. I don't get lost in mine anymore, because I know you and your mum and dad and the others are waiting for me. So you see, I am well." He kissed the top of her head and she draped her arms round his neck and hugged him tightly.

       "I'm hungry," she said suddenly, jumping off the bed. "It's tea-time!" She ran to the door, pausing to hold her hand out to him. "Come on, or it will all be gone!"

       He rolled off the bed and followed her to the kitchen, smiling broadly.

                                                                            ************

       Over the next few weeks there was much to celebrate. Elanor's birthday was a joyous occasion as she handed out presents to the family and friends. With Rosie's help she had found a beautiful little book at the booksellers in Bywater, and Frodo was deeply moved by the gift, a selection of Elven children's stories. He held the child close and they both had tears in their eyes.

       "Now I can read to you and teach you Elvish at the same time, Ellie-girl."

       There was loud laughter when she gave Pippin a recipe book. He liked to read about food almost as much as he liked to eat it. Pip took the joke in good part, claiming a kiss from his favourite girl and declaring it to be the best birthday ever.

       Legolas and Gimli had returned from Mirkwood, where Gimli was now quite a regular visitor. King Thranduil had been somewhat disconcerted to discover that his son was great friends with a dwarf, but once he had met Gimli he came to like him very much. Legolas admitted that his friend's visits certainly caused a great deal of amusement, but he was happy that Gimli was well received. He himself had met Gloin, who was a surprisingly jovial sort once he dropped his testy manner. It was nice to see them together, so unalike and yet so close.

       The two friends were delighted with Frodo's progress. He had even ventured into the garden, although the wide horizons after so long indoors had made him feel quite dizzy at first. He was hoping to walk as far as New Row soon and pay the Gaffer a visit. The old man would soon be celebrating his 102nd birthday, and a party was planned for him, in the Party Field. Frodo wanted to go to it and he was determined to walk there.

       On 6th April the mallorn flowered, and people came from miles around to see it. A number of the visitors also called at Bag End to pay their respects to Frodo, and there was a constant stream of people, most bearing gifts. Rosie claimed they would be able to start a shop or open a stall in Hobbiton market with all the packages now filling the parlour and overflowing into the hall. Fortunately the foodstuffs were useful for Sam's birthday and, being hobbits, nothing was wasted; Pippin saw to that. They also had Merry-lad's first birthday to rejoice in. The older children helped him give out the gifts and cheered the fact that he had cut a tooth that very day. He was more preoccupied with seeing how many bubbles he could blow in one go, but he smiled a great deal to show off his little teeth. He sat on Gimli's knee and tugged on the dwarf's beard, which amused Legolas immensely.

       "I agree, my little one, I cannot believe it's real either!" he chuckled, and Gimli gave a loud "harrumph" and rolled his eyes, which only made the baby laugh.

       "Saucy pointy-ear!" He leaned down to the child. "Why don't you go and pull his hair - I don't believe that's real either!"

       "My little Elanorelle never pulled my hair," the Elf said, lifting Elanor into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, and everyone smiled to see them together. The child's hair was so fair, unheard of in hobbits until the Year of Plenty, that she looked like a little Elf.

       May Day saw everyone down in the Party Field where the maypole stood. Frodo had achieved his ambition and walked there, although his legs felt rather shaky for a few moments afterwards. He soon recovered, and enjoyed being part of things again. He thought it best not to do any dancing round the maypole but he enjoyed watching the lads and lasses and the children. It was also amusing to watch the young people pairing off and sneaking away for romantic trysts in the woods. He sat at one of the tables with his friends and family around him, sipping good ale, eating splendid food and revelling in the beauty of the Shire that he hoped soon to wander - the woods, the fields, the little rivers......... He could not believe he had almost lost all this, or that his life had been given back to him. He felt truly blessed.

       He found himself at the centre of a large group of Shirefolk all falling over themselves to shake his hand and wish him the best of health. It was very disconcerting but he was soon explaining the Quest to bands of inquisitive hobbits, all impressed by the fact that he was on first name terms with the new King and friends with an Elf prince and a dwarf. Older housewives and old gammers wanted to ask him about his health and the young girls gawped and blushed when he spoke to them, and the men and lads all wanted to know if he'd seen any fighting, or any monsters. He told them frankly that monsters were not fell beasts or fire breathing dragons, but those who abused their power to the detriment of others. They may not have understood that but he felt he should tell them. When he was beginning to feel a little tired he went in search of his cousins to lighten his mood. He found Pip sitting near the mallorn.

       "Not dancing, Legolas?" enquired Pippin in his distinctive Tuckborough burr. "I was hoping to see you and Gimli skipping round the maypole together."

       Frodo almost choked on his ale at the very thought. Pippin had to smack him on the back while he coughed, then the two cousins collapsed in helpless laughter. "Oh my! Legolas I can see dancing, but the idea of Gimli prancing about with ribbons........................." he paused, unable to continue for giggles.

       Legolas was also amused at the thought of his stocky friend dancing round, interweaving ribbons and performing intricate dance steps. He threw back his head and laughed merrily. Gimli turned to look at him, too far away to hear the conversation but suspicious that he was the reason for the Elf's merriment. Frodo knew this would be the cue for a string of insults to be hurled back and forth, although at least it was good-natured these days.

       "You watch," said Pippin slyly. "It will be 'wretched pointy-ear!' and 'grubby rock-splitter!' any minute now!"

       "Neither of them will admit how fond they are of each other. It's so funny!" Frodo smiled in their direction and drained his mug.

       "Wooaah! Mrs Bracegirdle, bearing down fast on your right. There's no escape!" said Pippin, and fled, leaving Frodo feeling rather abandoned.

      "Mr. Baggins! My dear Mr. Baggins, how wonderful to see you out and about," boomed Hyacinth Bracegirdle, and before Frodo could rise from his seat to shake her hand she was upon him, and he found himself eye to ample bosom with the maker of the steak and mushroom pies. He was about to mumble a few words but before he could open his mouth he was clasped to her prominent chest and embraced very firmly.

       "Poor Frodo, he'll think he's gone deaf," muttered Gimli, and Merry guffawed loudly while Pippin sprayed ale in all directions. Even Legolas was biting his lip, and Sam and Rosie were all but falling off the bench. Eventually Legolas took pity on him and walked over to rescue his dear friend before he suffocated.

       "Good afternoon, ma'am," he said politely, taking her hand and kissing it, bowing low as he did so. Mrs, Bracegirdle fluttered and released Frodo, who was blushing strawberry pink and quite out of breath. It was some time before he could politely extract himself from the conversation, and not before he received another smothering, but finally he managed to join Legolas and walk back to his cousins and friends, who were still howling.

       "Very funny," he growled, fanning himself with his handkerchief. "It's alright for you - I wasn't sure I was going to come out alive!"

       Merry was still laughing. "You should have seen your face, Fro! I'm surprised you could breathe in there!"

       "Awwwww!" cried Pippin, "He's blushing! All those gentlehobbit sensibilities! Didn't stop you looking though, did it?"

       "It may have escaped your notice, Peregrin Took, but I had very little choice!" Frodo was fighting the urge to laugh. "It was like being trapped between two very large pillows!"

       Merry took a swig of ale. "Rumour has it that Mr. Bracegirdle's seen less of her recently than you did just now!" He winked at Pippin. "I think she's sweet on you, Fro. She thinks you're brave and noble and heroic - which you are - and you're handsome and a bit delicate. She probably wants to mother you.......................or something.........!" He dodged as Frodo flipped an apple core in his direction.

       By the time they returned home, with sleepy children trailing behind and Rosie-lass drowsing in her father's arms, Frodo felt he had broken another barrier. He laughed off Sam's suggestion that he rest, and he and Legolas put the children to bed. Sam could hear giggling and talking from their rooms for some time. He smiled at Rosie.

       "He's even getting some colour in his cheeks again. He'll never put on a lot of weight but his bones don't stick out any more, and he's cheerful. It's truly wonderful, lass. I still can't believe it sometimes."

       "Frodo Baggins!" Rosie said as he returned to the kitchen. "I declare you're as bad as those children for lingering over the good-nights." She held both his hands, turned them over and tutted. "How can I tell Ellie and Fro not to bite their nails when their uncle chews his to the quick. You stop biting or I'll put something nasty on them! You have beautiful hands and those nails spoil them." She wagged a finger at him. "I mean it - no good you laughing! I want to see proper nails in six months."

       "Yes, ma'am," he said, and ducked the tea towel.

                                                                           ************

       The Gaffer's birthday was one of the happiest and most splendid occasions to take place in the Party Field. The old man was delighted to be the centre of so much attention, surrounded by all his family. Halfred had travelled from the Northfarthing with his wife and children, and Hamson and his brood had come in from Tighfield, where he worked as a roper. Sam was the only one of Gaffer's sons to follow him into gardening but he had become the greatest in Shire history, a fact of which the Gaffer was very proud. It looked as though young Fro would be another; barely five and already he had his own little plot in the Bag End gardens. Only that morning he had dragged his uncle out to see his plants, which were flourishing and almost in flower. He knew what they were called, what sort of light they needed and how much water. He was constantly questioning his father and grandfather, and seemed to remember everything he was told, without it being written down for him.

       Frodo was delighted to see Sam's brothers again. They had been his companions whenever he came to stay at Bag End in the years after the death of his parents, and he spent a great deal of time in the cosy kitchen at No.3, Bagshot Row, helping Bell Gamgee and playing with baby Sam.

       "These two saved me from a beating from Lotho on more than one occasion," he explained to Rosie. "They were big for their age and Lotho was a coward. He was fine pounding me, but if someone hit him he usually ran screaming for his mother. He started taunting me about my parents, calling me an orphan, jeering about how they died. I was only eleven and they'd only been dead a month, and of course I started to cry. Just then, Hamson came up and said, 'Why, you pimply-faced little weasel, I'll make you sorry you said that,' and the next thing I knew, he and Lotho were rolling over in the lane. Then Halfred joined in and Lotho fled, wailing and howling. They were my heroes after that."

       Hamson, a broad and brawny hobbit, put an arm round Frodo's shoulders. "You were always so fond of our Mum, and little Sam, and so good with our sisters. We were proud to share Mum with you, Mr. Frodo, and she thought the world of you."

       Halfred grinned. "Remember the time we had to sort out Ted Sandyman as well? We threw him in the pond, didn't we? Only at the edge, he wasn't likely to drown, but it scared him and he stayed away from you after that.

       "I remember," Frodo laughed. "My two terrible enemies reduced to snivelling children. And Sam started being my protector at a very young age.........and, Elbereth bless him, he's been doing it ever since!" He held Sam's hand in his for a moment. "He ran at Ted Sandyman once - he can't have been more than eight or nine - and completely bowled him over! Just put his head down and charged like an enraged bull!"

       Sam smiled shyly. "I think I was yelling something like, "You stay away from Mr. Frodo, you great bully!" and I caught him in an awkward place and he went down as though he'd been poleaxed!"

       Hamson laughed. "I remember him rolling about, clutching his treasures and moaning. Funniest sight I'd seen since Mrs Proudfoot dragged her husband home from the "Bush" by his ear!"

       "The one who frightened me the most was your sister Daisy. She is rather.............formidable." Frodo paused.

       "She's a good heart, our Daisy. Of course, she's also got a tongue like a sacking needle," Hamson chuckled.

       "Have you ever watched her have a row with someone? She lets them jump up and down and scream till they're red in the face and then she just comes out with a remark that takes the rug from under 'em, and walks away. I don't know how she does it." He shook his head in admiration.

       Daddy Twofoot banged on the table for silence and the Gaffer stood. He was going to make a speech - if Bilbo Baggins could make one on his birthday then so could Hamfast Gamgee. He surveyed the field with its food-covered tables, the smiling hobbits all around him, the beauty of the mallorn above, and smiled to himself.

       Most of the crowd had felt the Gaffer's hand a time or two as young hobbits during fruit-scrumping expeditions.

       "My dear friends! This is a wonderful day, to see all of you here enjoying yourselves. I've had a wonderful time, and I've had a wonderful life too. My only regret is that my dear Bell is not here to see this day. She was the best wife and mother any man could wish for, and I'd like us all to drink a toast to her memory." He raised his mug and everyone did the same. Sam had tears in his eyes. His mother had been a sweet, kindly and capable woman, motherly and tender. She had taken Frodo to her heart when he arrived in Hobbiton just after his parents died, and he became devoted to her.

       "To Mum!" said Hamson, drinking deeply. "We'll never forget her!"

       "Indeed not," Frodo murmured. "Dear Mrs. Gamgee, she was so kind and loving."

       "Now, I'd like to say a few words about my children," the Gaffer said. "I'm proud of them all, I must say. They've all done well for themselves, going off and being independent. I admit I was disappointed when my two eldest didn't want to follow me, but my young Sam more than made up for it. The gardens at Bag End have never looked better, the Shire's been healed, and now he's the Mayor! Who'd have thought it? And my girls, all wed and with families of their own now. Even my baby Marigold's 'spectin' soon, so I'll be a grand-dad again come the winter." He paused, amused by Mari's blush . "I'd also like to thank Mr. Frodo here, for looking after my Sam and his family. I've always said that Mr. Frodo Baggins is a true gentlehobbit, and it's a pleasure to see him up and about again, looking so well." He raised his mug to Frodo, who glowed rather pink but smiled and responded. "Thank you to all my friends and neighbours for coming here today - I hope you've all enjoyed yourselves. I think that's all I wanted to say. I thought of saying something about hoping we wouldn't have too much food left over, but with Mr.Merry and Mr. Pippin around I don't think there's much danger of that!"

       Loud laughter ensued at that point, and Pip raised his mug and yelled, "Happy Birthday, Gaffer! We'll do our best!"

                                                                              ************ 

       May and June were the finest since 1420. The sun shone, the rain was gentle and mostly came at night, and the fruit trees and bushes groaned under the weight of their crop. In late May Rosie came over queasy while cooking breakfast. Frodo saw her go pale, and leapt up.

       "Rose! What's wrong?" He guided her to a chair. "Feeling sick?" She nodded, hand over her mouth, and he hurried to fetch her a glass of water. "Are you expecting again?" he asked.

       "Looks like it." She sipped the water, and smiled. "I always said Sam don't know his own strength."

       Frodo laughed. "Now you go back to bed, put your feet up and stay away from cooking smells. I can make breakfast."

       "It wouldn't be right. You're still not fully recovered yourself, and you're..........well, you're a gentlehobbit and the Master of Bag End........"

       "Piffle, Rosie Gamgee! I'm quite capable of cooking breakfast and Sam and I can see to the children. You have a rest and I'll bring you some tea and dry toast in a while." He saw the longing in her eyes. "Go on, do it. I promise we won't burn the place down or poison the children!" He pushed her gently to the door. "How long have you been looking after me? I've been very selfish, and it's time I stopped." He was startled when she put her arms round his neck and kissed him.

       "I know exactly why Sam loves you so much. No-one could be nicer than you. Thank you, dear. And you're not selfish, and don't ever let me hear you say so."

       When Sam returned with some early redcurrants he was surprised to find Frodo chopping mushrooms and cooking bacon and fried potatoes. Frodo sat him down and gently explained, and Sam spent the next ten minutes grinning and blushing.

       "Expectin' again? How did that happen?" Frodo roared with laughter.

       "Well if you don't know after all this time, I don't think I'm the one to tell you!"

       The children had finished breakfast and were helping to clear the table when their mother emerged from the bedroom. The doors and windows were open wide to air out the smell of cooking, Frodo was washing dishes and Sam was scrubbing the floor. Rosie stood in the doorway, watching the scene and thinking she could not be happier. This pregnancy would be so much nicer because there would be no worries over Frodo, as had been the case before Merry's birth.

       "Fancy letting Frodo wash dishes," she said reprovingly, patting Sam on the head. He looked up and took her hands, then rested one hand on her belly.

       "Didn't have much choice, lass. It was either the dishes or the floor, and I could hardly see the Master of Bag End on his knees scrubbing the floor, now could I?"

                                                                              ************

       Rosie bloomed with the summer. As with her previous pregnancies, she glowed with life. Her hair was lustrous and her skin looked like a peach, and she used her nesting instincts to rearrange furniture and clean every nook and cranny. Frodo kept the children out of her way by taking them into the walled fruit garden to pick redcurrants, raspberries, blackcurrants, gooseberries and blackberries, and to the orchard to collect plums, cherries, peaches, apricots, damsons and greengages. They filled baskets, bowls, basins and boxes, and gave away plenty to their friends and neighbours. They all had permanently stained fingers and lips and Rosie teased them about eating more than they brought in. She was also very surprised to discover that Frodo could make pastry.

       "Where did you learn to do that?" she asked, when he presented them with a superb peach and raspberry pie one evening, when they returned from a day at the Cotton's farm.

       He smiled and said, "At Brandy Hall. I spent a lot of time in the kitchens after my parents died, and the cook took me under her wing. She gave me little jobs to do and taught me things. She said I had a light hand for pastry - most lads are too heavy-handed for it. Sam's mother taught me too."

       "I knew he could cook, lass, but it never seemed right to mention it or bother him before. Old Mr. Bilbo was quite useful in the kitchen too."

       "See," Frodo chuckled, "I'm full of hidden talents."

       "You are," she agreed. "I'm beginning to wonder what other talents you've been hiding all these years!" She giggled at his blush. "That's right, it's good to see some colour in your cheeks." She turned to Sam. "Isn't it about time you two went to the Dragon - you've not been out at night for ages. Must be two years or more since Frodo went there."

       "Reckon she's trying to get rid of us," Sam said, grinning at Frodo.

       "Looks like it. Well, we could go tomorrow evening - Merry and Pip are coming over and I'm sure they won't turn down a trip to the inn."

       "Are you up to the walk, Frodo?"

       "I'm fine - I've been tramping round Hobbiton with the children since June, so I've had nearly three months practice. Not to mention all that fruit-picking."

                                                                              ************

        Frodo was right. Merry and Pippin were certainly not going to turn down a trip to the "Green Dragon" and they set out the following evening, strolling down the hill and making their way through Hobbiton. The inn, and its rival, "The Ivy Bush," stood just the other side of the village, on the Bywater Road. They met a number of the regulars on their way, including their dear friend, Cousin Fredegar, known to most as "Fatty," Bolger, who was also Merry's brother-in-law. He was delighted to see Frodo out for an evening's fun, and they walked along, laughing and joking. It was a warm evening but without the sticky heat of August, and very pleasant to be out and about.

       The inn was bright and cheerful, welcoming them in from the darkening twilight of the road. Jeb Sandyman, Ted's cousin but a much nicer character, and the miller since Ted had departed for Bree, called a greeting from the corner.

       "Evenin', Mr Baggins! Mr. Meriadoc, Mr.Peregrin! Mr.Mayor! How nice to see you all. And Mr. Bolger too! Hope you're all well?"

       "Doing fine, Jeb," Sam replied. He and Frodo went over to have a word while Merry and Pippin set up the drinks. The landlord was glad to see them since they were funny and popular and usually stayed for a long time and consumed a great deal of ale. This particular evening was to be no exception.

       "Pippin, you can't sing that song in here!" Frodo hissed, although he was trying not to laugh. Pip downed the rest of his ale and set the mug down.

       "And what's wrong with "The Virgin of Staddle" may I ask?" he said indignantly.

       "There aren't any virgins in Staddle, Pip. Everyone knows that!" Frodo tried to be crushing, but the smile playing round his lips made that difficult.

       Pippin smirked. "Not since Merry and I went there a few years ago, I agree!" Frodo rolled his eyes.

       "From what I've heard, there never were any virgins in Staddle," chuckled Fatty. "It's a very strange place, even by Bree-land standards."

       "Besides, it is a very vulgar song, and there is a lady present," said Frodo, nodding towards the hobbit lass behind the bar. She caught his eye, blushed, giggled and bobbed a curtsey.

       "Oooh! Little Daffodil Chubb! She likes you, Frodo! She keeps blushing and giggling when you look at her! Tell her it's your birthday next week and I'm sure she'll give you a special birthday kiss!" Pippin was in no mood to let it go. Sam glanced at Frodo to see if he was upset but Frodo merely laughed and went to buy another round.

       "Look at him" said Merry, smiling as he watched his cousin standing at the bar, his curls almost black in the lamplight. "I thought we'd never do this again, all of us. I still can't believe the change in him. Has he ever said if he remembers what happened while he was unconscious?"

       "Not really," murmured Sam. "He did say something about Gandalf but I've never liked to press him. Reckon he'll tell us when he's ready."

       Pippin bounced up. "C'mon, Merry! We have to sing something, and since our dear prudish Fro won't let us sing anything vulgar we'll have to do the old favourite!"

       Merry staggered to his feet and somehow managed to climb on the table, and they began..........

       "Hey ho, to the bottle I go!

       To heal my heart and drown my woe.

       Rains may come, and winds may blow,

       And there'll still be many miles to go..........."

       Frodo turned to look, shaking his head in amusement. Those two were utterly incorrigible. Daffodil was laughing and half trying to flirt with him, lowering her gaze and blushing a little. She had never seen truly blue eyes before as they were most uncommon in hobbits, and Frodo's were a deep blue which rivalled the lobelia flowers trailing from the hanging baskets adorning Bag End. If she looked at those eyes she found it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying.

       "They always sing that song when they've had a really good evening," he laughed. "You know, if and when those two have children of their own, perhaps they'll realise what unholy terrors they were. Justice, that will be."

       The walk home along the dark lanes was uproarious, with some singing and a lot of laughter. Frodo was sure he was not walking in a straight line but it was a wonderful feeling to be out with friends, after a happy and convivial time, just revelling in being alive.

                                                                              *************

       The next morning he wasn't quite sure he was still alive. He had forgotten what a hangover felt like, but as the morning light seared his eyeballs he mumbled "Ow!" and pulled the bedclothes over his head. Somewhere there was a pounding, which seemed at first to be in his head but which he eventually managed to identify as someone knocking at the door. It stopped after a minute or two, so he assumed someone had answered and drifted back to sleep. When he finally dragged himself out of bed and tottered to the kitchen in search of revival he found Rosie making jam, the children playing in the parlour, and no sign of Sam.

       "Ah! Up at last, eh?" said Rosie. "I expect you're feeling a bit the worse for wear after all that ale last night?"

       "I'd forgotten what too much ale does to me. I think fragile is a good description at the moment. Where's Sam - already out in the garden?"

       "No, dear. May came for him first thing. His Gaffer's taken poorly so he's down there." She poured Frodo a cup of tea and added plenty of sugar.

       "Oh dear. Nothing serious, I hope?" He stirred it carefully, trying not to make a noise with the spoon.

       Rosie lowered her voice to a whisper, lest the children overhear. "He's had that cough for a few weeks, and now it looks like pneumonia. At his age I don't think.............." She put a little jam on a saucer to distract the wasps. "It looks like the end, I'm afraid."

       Frodo was saddened. He liked Gaffer and he was deeply upset for Sam's sake, and the children's. He sipped his tea slowly, gradually feeling a little more connected to things as his head cleared. When he had bathed and dressed he would go down to the Row and see if he could help.

                                                                             ************

       Sam sat beside Gaffer's bed. The old man seemed comfortable, dozing quietly. Daisy and May, Sam's sisters, moved almost silently, doing chores and talking in whispers. Marigold was on her way, but as she was in the last stage of her pregnancy they wanted her to take it slowly. Messages had been sent to the Northfarthing and Tighfield and the boys would come, although it was doubtful if they would arrive before the end.

       "Samwise?" The voice was shaky and there was a rattle in the chest which Sam knew and dreaded. Less than a year ago he had sat at Frodo's bedside, fretting and grieving.

       "Yes, Dad, I'm here." He took the old man's gnarled, work-worn hand and held it tightly, as though his own strength could hold him back from death.

       "Don't you fret, boy. I've had a long life.....a wonderful life. I've been happy in my work.......and happy in my home. I'm proud............I'm proud of all of you, but I'm 'specially proud of you, son. Never thought my little Samwise would be Mayor..........." He chuckled and it turned into a fit of coughing. "Last year you were worritting over your Mr. Frodo and you got him back. I'm old, I've had my time. Better me than him, son. I'm ready to go, I reckon. Wasn't right that he should have gone................. "

       "Dad! Don't say that. You've got years yet, we don't want to lose you." Sam chafed his father's hand gently.

       "Now, now. You're a man grown, Samwise, with bairns of your own. There's a time and a season for everything, son. You're a gardener, you know that as well as I do. Time is right for me to go. An apple shouldn't stay longer on the tree just because it likes it there." He smiled and patted Sam's cheek. "There you are, living up at Bag End and more like a brother to Mr. Frodo now..........He's a true gentlehobbit, that one, I allus said so." Gaffer's eyes closed and he slept.

       Frodo crept in and sat next to Sam. They hugged each other wordlessly, and kept vigil for the day. Sam was speechless with gratitude that his master should have joined him, and his sisters were very touched by his concern. Gaffer woke once more, recognised Frodo and spoke a few words before lapsing into unconsciousness and slipping away just before dawn.

                                                                              ************

       Sitting in the Bag End kitchen, the children still sleeping and unaware, the sorrowful little group did their best to comfort Sam. Merry and Pippin were subdued, sympathising with their friend and wondering yet again how they would cope in such a situation. The only one in the little group who had lost a father was Frodo, and he seemed able to console Sam. Rosie made tea and sat tucked beside her husband, her arm through his.

        "I know this might sound silly but what happens to him?" Sam asked plaintively. "Is that it? Is this life all there is? That's what I want to know."

       "I don't think any of us can answer that," said Merry slowly. "I know most hobbits say that there is nothing, but I've always hoped they're wrong."

       "I remember Uncle Rory telling me that when my parents died," murmured Frodo. "But Bilbo always maintained that hobbits went into the next world. Why should Men and Elves - and Dwarves I think - go somewhere and not hobbits?"

       "I guess none of us will ever know until our time comes," said Pippin, glancing round.

       Frodo cleared his throat. "I think I may............if you laugh at this, any of you................." Everyone shook their heads. "When I was ill I ........well I think I was given a glimpse of............... You promise you won't think I'm mad?"

       "Of course we won't, Fro," said Merry. "Tell us, please. We want to know, we've just never liked to press you into telling. It's obvious something amazing happened to you."

       "Very well. I'd like to tell you, and I think it may help Sam here." Frodo set down his teacup and began.

                                                   ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*





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