Gondor 1429 SR Rosie completes the story of Frodo's illness and recovery.

September 1428

Frodo closed his eyes and remembered........................................................................

       Darkness. Pitch-black and desolate, like the Plain of Gorgoroth only much blacker. The familiar voices which had murmured in his ears had faded now, and were barely audible. He turned in a circle but there was nothing, and he felt very lost and frightened. He just wanted everything to be over, but now he wondered if the essential Frodo would be stranded in this wilderness forever. If Uncle Rorimac had been right, and life on Middle-earth was all there was, then he was thankful his life was ending, because he could not bear it any longer as it was. Yet..........supposing the soul lived on, wasn't it supposed to go somewhere? Elves and Men did, so he'd been told, and if they did, why not hobbits? He looked around, vainly trying to find a path, but the darkness was unrelenting. He wondered if this was his punishment for breaking his vow - that the next world rejected him even as the Lands of the West had rejected Saruman's spirit. He was condemned to wander in this miserable place for the rest of time, too disgraced to be accepted anywhere..........

       Suddenly two figures appeared, one standing on each side of him. They took his hands and a familiar voice said,

       "Reject you, you silly boy? Of course no-one will reject you. Everyone wants to lavish praise and love upon you but you have refused it because you believe yourself to be unworthy."

       "Gandalf?" Here indeed was Gandalf the White as Frodo had last seen him when he came to Hobbiton for the last time. "Gandalf!" He turned to his left and gazed up at the Lady of the Golden Wood. "M......my lady........"

       "My dear hobbit, you must stop this ridiculous nonsense!" Gandalf sounded just the same. "You are the one responsible for this isolation, because you have pushed away those who love you and wish to help. You have closed yourself off from love and happiness because you keep blaming yourself for things over which you had no control."

       "But I broke my vow!" It was a cry of despair, wrenched from depths he did not know he possessed.

       "I don't remember you vowing to throw the wretched thing in - you said you would take it to the Cracks of Doom, and you did, as I knew you would. Sadly, I knew that by the time you reached them you would be unable to let it go, but I trusted to something else.......your compassion toward Gollum, Sam's common sense and the power of the Valar."

       "But you could hardly have forseen everything - that I would claim the Ring and Gollum would bite off my finger and then fall in................."

       "No, Frodo, I did not forsee that. As I said once before, even the very wise cannot see all ends. I knew that if the Ring claimed you - and you must remember, dear boy, it was that way round; you did not claim the Ring, it claimed you - then Sam would be on hand to do whatever needed to be done. He would have either struck off your finger - or your whole hand - with the sword, or, more likely knowing Samwise Gamgee, he would have grabbed you and jumped with you into the fires. He would have given his life for you, Frodo, and he still would."

       "I don't deserve his love, I treated him badly." Frodo wanted to believe Gandalf but he could not allow himself to.

       "Frodo," Galadriel said soothingly, "You were not yourself when you said things to Samwise. He knows that was not the real Frodo Baggins, and he loves you dearly. Turning away from him when he wanted to help you is the cruellest thing you have done to Sam, not the harsh words and actions in Mordor."

       "Look, my dear, dear Frodo, we can only do our best and hope that it is good enough. You did more than your best and it was more than enough. Let it go now." Gandalf knelt in front of Frodo, clasping both his hands. "You say you cannot be forgiven - there is nothing to forgive. Your pride is telling you that you should have resisted the Ring, because you still want to be a hero. I tell you that none of us could have resisted. You did all that was asked of you - no-one can do any more. You must forgive yourself, my dear hobbit. You can hardly be blamed for your will being broken, any more than if your body had been broken also. There is no blame; it was not your fault. Believe that."

       "And what of my contamination - I am filthy after what ...........they...did ......." He sighed. "I am ashamed..............."

       "The only shame is theirs, not yours, Frodo," said Galadriel softly. "You were a helpless prisoner and they mistreated you. If you believe yourself to be guilty in any way, they will have won, and I do not believe you desire that?" She held his hand firmly. "You are not contaminated, you are not filthy. Your flesh is unpolluted unless you believe it to be. They cannot touch your soul unless you allow them to. Deny them that victory, Frodo."

       "Frodo, I know you felt that nothing could be the same, and in a way that is true. You are not the same, and neither is the Shire, but that is the way of things, I'm afraid. Without change there is no growth, and all living things must grow or die, including hobbits. The Shire was terribly wounded, and there will be scars which will never fade entirely, but the land and the trees have healed, thanks to Sam and the Lady here, and Sam has been desperately trying to heal you too. The land allowed him to help, that is the difference. Trust to love, without which there can be no healing. You will never be the innocent young hobbit who set out so bravely that night. I wish it were otherwise, my dear Frodo, but even I cannot change that fundamental truth. You have to learn to love the hobbit you are now, and to love yourself you have to believe that you are worthy of love." Gandalf gazed into the deep blue eyes, and saw a longing there.

       "We have come to guide you wherever you truly wish to go, Frodo. The Valar have enabled us to come to you because they do not wish you to be trapped in this forsaken place forever." Galadriel smiled tenderly, her eyes compelling. "Do you truly wish to die, Frodo, or do you want to return to those who love you dearly? The choice must be yours."

       He turned as a faint light glimmered in the distance. Through a round doorway he could see lush green fields and a vision of a Shire more perfect than he had thought possible. The rich green of the trees and the green and gold patchwork of the fields was counterpointed with the wildflowers rioting in the hedgerows and tumbling over the walls and doorways of the dwellings. It was so beautiful he could not speak.

       In the doorway stood two figures and he gasped as he recognised them.

       "Mama! Papa! Oh!" He ran towards them, and his mother caught him in her arms. "I've missed you so much!"

       "Oh my sweet boy! I've missed you too but oh! I am so proud of you!" She was smiling.

       "You are? But.........you know what I did.......I ......claimed .........."

       "Nonsense, dear," Primula said gently. You heard Gandalf. And you were so brave. No mother could be prouder of her son, just remember that."

       "Am......am...I not to...come with you?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

       "You still have a life to live, my boy," said Drogo, his hands resting on Frodo's shoulders. "You should return to all those who love you and will be utterly destroyed by your death. Sam, Rosie, the children, Merry and Pippin, the King, Prince Faramir.......all your friends, dear Esme, Legolas and Gimli who have been tending you so devotedly. They need you."

       "It is not your time yet, lambkin," said his mother. "We love you, never forget that, and we shall watch over you as we have always done, but now is not your time. The King is weeping at this moment, re-reading the letters from Sam and Pippin and believing he will never see you again. There are so many people willing you to recover. Go back to your life, allow others to love you as they wish, and enjoy your life again."

       "Your Mama is right," added Drogo. "You have suffered too much, my son. Go back now and be happy. Let them spoil you and show their affection and stop pushing them away. We'll be here, and one day your time will come, but that time is not yet."

       He nodded and said softly, "I love you both so much. Not a day has gone by when I haven''t thought of you."

       "We know, dear. We can feel when you think of us. We'll wait for you, my lambkin. Go now, before it is too late."

       Gradually they retreated, leaving him feeling lonely but reassured. The two figures in white were still with him, standing aside and smiling. He looked up at them and then stared round. The darkness had returned; which way was home?

       "Trust in Sam's love for you. He has sent you a signal to follow," said Gandalf, with amusement and affection in his voice. "I think you'll recognise it!"

       He whirled round, and there in the distance was a bright light, filling his vision until he could see nothing else. He thought of Sam grieving for him, of the children who adored him, Rose who looked after him like a dear sister, his cousins, his friends....... He started to run, then stopped, turned and waved to the two dazzling figures. "Thank you," he whispered, and then hurried on into the light.............

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

       "And when I opened my eyes, there I was, in my own bedroom, with Galadriel's Phial on the chest by the window, and Sam and Rosie, poor dears, sleeping either side of me. I don't know if you'll think it was just a dream, but I think I was given a glimpse of something wonderful that night. I know now that hobbits do have somewhere to go after death and it is so beautiful! Just like the Shire but even more perfect, if you can believe that!"

       Pippin wiped his eyes. "Oh Frodo! Legolas said you were far away in a wilderness and couldn't hear us any more. I think it's true, you did see your parents and Gandalf and Galadriel."

       "I believe it too," said Merry, fumbling for his handkerchief. " I'm so glad they managed to convince you to come back to us. Silly old Fro! Of course we love you, you daft hobbit!" He clasped Frodo's hands.

       "Then do you think my Mam will be waiting for Da?" Sam asked, his eyes wet with tears but his tanned, honest face wreathed in smiles.

       "I'm sure of it, Sam. And no doubt she's very proud of you too."

       Rosie smiled through her own tears. "See! I always thought the Valar wouldn't be so unfair as not to create somewhere for us!"

       "You didn't see Bilbo?" Merry asked tentatively. "Does that mean he's still alive in the Undying Lands?"

       Frodo looked thoughtful. "Yes, I think he is. He won't live long of course. Mortals don't. They're only called the Undying Lands because the Valar and the Elves live there. But I think he would have been given a bit of a new lease of life on his arrival. If he had passed into the next world I'm sure he'd have been there to tell me I was being a fool!"

       "You are a fool if you think any of us blamed you for anything, you .....you.......idiot!" said Merry firmly. "Legolas said you were out of reach of our calls, so perhaps it needed Gandalf and Galadriel to bring you back."

       "It was very strange but I felt it was a gift from the Valar and I had to accept what they said and stop punishing myself. I'm so glad they gave me another chance because I realise how much you love me, now I've learned to accept it and stop pushing you all away."

       Rosie stood behind his chair and embraced him. "Good!" She kissed the top of his head. "About time you saw sense, you stubborn Baggins!"

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

The Present - Minas Tirith Summer 1429

        Rosie sat back and wiped her eyes. Re-telling the story had been more emotional than she had expected, and she saw that Arwen and Eowyn were also weeping. Arwen spoke first.

       "I'm so glad my Naneth was able to help Frodo. Anada hinted as much once, but he said he wanted to hear it from Frodo himself. I'm sure he will speak with Frodo soon."

       "How wonderful too that Frodo had you and Sam and all his friends to love him and call him back. He seems able to accept your love now." Eowyn smiled. "It truly was a gift from the Valar."

       Arwen topped up their glasses again. "Love is the greatest gift of all, and Frodo has that in abundance. He deserves it too."

       "He always seemed so empty, but I said our love for him could fill him and replace the great gap left by ......that terrible thing.. - if only he let it. Now he does - he allows us in instead of locking himself away. He still has his nightmares - sometimes Sam will get up and go to him for a while, but he doesn't lapse into those dreadful trances and scrabble for the Ring like he used to. Mostly he just talks for a little while and then goes back to sleep. If I think he's looking a bit thoughtful I talk to him or the children get him to play or read to them, and he's soon himself again. And those moments seem to be happening less and less these days."

       "I wonder what they're doing at the moment?" Eowyn murmured mischievously. "I can hear singing ............... I.........er....I think it's singing!"

        "Then I shouldn't listen too closely to the words, ma'am, because they're bound to be rude!" said Rosie with a laugh. "Especially if Merry and Pippin have anything to do with it!"

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

       In the King's apartments the party was going extremely well. Celeborn had retired for the night but he had stayed much longer than he intended and had greatly enjoyed the celebrations. Upon his departure, however, the serious drinking began, and two hours later they were all rather tipsy, to say the least. Faramir and Beregond had reached the "you're my best friend, you are!" stage of intoxication and had their arms round each other as they attempted to sing old Gondorian drinking songs, although their grasp of the words - and their tankards - was somewhat less than perfect. Aragorn was still upright - his experience of the taverns of Middle-earth while being leader of the Rangers gave him something of an advantage on evenings like these - and so were the hobbits, whose capacity for drink never ceased to astonish other races. Legolas, the twins and Gimli were sitting propped in a rather untidy heap on one of the couches and Legolas was leaning heavily against the sturdy dwarf. At that moment, Aragorn was expounding on his knowledge of music...............

       "I know any number of drinking songs!" He grinned. "I know a lot of Sire shongs..........." He blinked and re-ran the words through his brain, then laughed and corrected himself. ".............Shire songs. Merry and Pippin have been teaching me."

       "Oh no!" murmured Frodo. "Not "Tuckborough Fair"?"

       "Of course," said Pip. "It's one of the best." He poured more ale and refilled Frodo's tankard at the same time.

       Frodo looked disbelieving. "Pip, some of those songs are a bit.......well.........rude!"

       "Don't be such a prude, you scamp of a Baggins!" said Merry, grinning from ear to ear. "You've sung them often enough."

       "Yes, but I'm not the King of Gondor! Still, as long as you didn't teach him 'The Maid of Michel Delving'."

       "Ummmmm. We..ee..eell................." Pip began.

       "You did, didn't you? Oh Elbereth!" Frodo covered his eyes with his hand. "And 'The Lovers of Scary'?" Pip nodded.

       "What about that other song....the long one where the village had a funny name? No............No.......... something, wasn't it?" Faramir's brow furrowed in concentration, a slightly glazed look in the blue-grey eyes. Alcohol was clearly affecting his ability to think.

       "Oh yes!" cried Legolas, giggling. "That was a good one!" Gimli whispered something in his ear and he giggled again and smacked Gimli playfully.

       Frodo stiffened, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "Pip," he said carefully. "Please tell me you didn't teach the King of Arnor and Gondor, the Steward and Prince of Ithilien, the Captain of the White Company and an Elven prince the words to all thirty-five verses of 'Nineteen Nights in Nobottle'!"

       "Um..........I could tell you I didn't, but I'd be lying," replied Pippin cheerfully. "Besides, I'm sure when he was Strider the Ranger he heard hundreds of rude songs."

       "Frodo!" cried Aragorn. "You've a lovely voice, you give us a note and we'll follow you."

       Frodo thought Aragorn was being very over-optimistic with that statement but he hid his amusement and fixed the former Ranger with a mock glare.

       "Are you implying that I know the words to that scurrilous ditty?" he demanded. Merry gave a snort.

       "Of course you do! Get on with it!" He slapped his cousin on the back, causing him to almost choke on a mouthful of ale. "Sing! The King commands it!"

       Frodo began. The song was one of the most obscene drinking songs in Shire history, and part of him thought he should have been mortified to admit that he knew any of the words. The rest of him decided that he was far too drunk to care. It was the long and incredibly detailed tale of one hobbit-lad's adventures in the taverns, and with the lasses, of Nobottle. However, he was somewhat distracted when he realised that Merry and Pippin had not only taught everyone the words, they had also taught them the accompanying hand gestures. Everyone joined in and sang lustily - although it has to be said that they were not all singing the same tune - and the entire company finished more or less together, laughing and breathless. Frodo thought he would never forget watching the prince of Mirkwood and the Imladris twins singing drunkenly and copying Merry and Pippin's obscene gestures with gusto. He shook his head in a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

       Pippin grinned evilly and leaned towards him. "Perhaps we should teach Aragon 'The Virgin of Staddle'?" he said slyly. "It may be vulgar but it's not a patch on the one we've just sung!"

       "I think you've taught him enough to be going on with," replied Frodo, chuckling. "I never thought I'd see the day when this high-born and august company sang vulgar Shire songs - complete with hand movements! Pippin Took, you and Merry should be ashamed of yourselves! You've corrupted the nobility of Gondor and a number of the First-born, and you don't even look repentant."

      Legolas poured himself some more ale. Gimli looked at him with a quizzical expression.

       "You know, Master Elf, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were drunk."

       "Elves are never drunk," retorted the Prince of Mirkwood. "I'm merely relaxed."

       "Hah! So relaxed you're falling off your seat!" Gimli bellowed with laughter. He took a swig from his tankard and gazed around with satisfaction.

       Aragorn grinned. "I think we're all drunk," he said firmly. "We have had a wonderful evening, my friends, although no doubt we shall pay for it in the morning."

       "Sooner, if our womenfolk are still up," murmured Faramir, attempting to place his mug on the table and missing. He started to laugh, and soon everyone was leaning helplessly against everyone else, giggling.

       "I'm out of practice, I think," Frodo admitted. "Mind you, we drank a lot of mead with Eomer."

       "Sad," said Pippin. "He can't hold his drink, that one!"

       "Poor Eomer, we did rather outdo him, didn't we?" Frodo was chuckling at the memory.

       "Outdo? We drank him under the table - no, really, we did. He was absolutely soused that last evening. Still clutching his head when he waved us farewell," Merry chortled. "Do you remember how drunk Frodo was on one of Bilbo's birthdays? Sam had to carry him home that night!"

       Frodo tried to look indignant. "Meriadoc Brandybuck! You were the one who fell in the Bywater Pool!"

       "Wouldn't deny it," said Merry smugly, "But you were totally unable to stand!"

       Frodo smiled at the memory. "Well, I suppose I was what dear Fatty calls totally legless that night. Not sure why - what was I drinking?"

       "We tried that extra-strong ale at the "Bush," remember?" replied Sam. "It was strong too - I had a headache for two days!"

       "Why are you three so drunk?" enquired Aragorn, looking at the three Elves. They all spluttered and laughed loudly.

       "We finished the wine hours ago and moved on to the ale," replied Elrohir. "You know what ale does to Elves? We don't really get drunk on wine but ale is a different matter........"

       "And Barliman's ale is strong stuff, as I think we've discovered," said his brother, giggling.

       "Before we all collapse, we have to sing our old favourite...........Merry?" Pippin turned to his cousin, who was gazing into his tankard with a strange smile on his face. They stood, decided climbing on the table was not a possibility, and draped their arms round each other.

       "Heigh ho, to the bottle I go...............

       "You should have been dancing round the table, Fro," said Pippin when they'd finished.

       "It will be a wonder if I can stand, never mind dance," he replied with disarming honesty. "And I have to say, many banquets like that and we'll need to be rolled back to the Shire, because our ponies will refuse to carry us!"

       Helpless giggles afflicted everyone at the image this produced. Legolas was particularly taken with the idea of the hobbits rolling across Rohan, and was rendered incoherent for several minutes.

       "The way the horses are treated in the stables here.......," said Gimli, ".........your ponies will need to be rolled back to the Shire also!"

       "Ah!" said Aragorn, "We may serve a lot of food but in Gondor we lack the utter dedication to food and drink which is seen as normal in the Shire. We don't spend half an hour discussing the flavour of one variety of potato, or which type of mushroom goes best with bacon. And second breakfast was unheard of until Pippin made his demands known."

       "Hah!" muttered Pippin. "They still say they don't believe in elevenses, even after all these years. I'm very offended. One of the cooks said it was...................," he screwed up his face in concentration, "...............a figment of my ima.....ima.....imagination!"

       "Even though you have a pretty strange imagination, eh?" murmured Sam, grinning.

       "See? Now he's the Mayor he thinks he can insult me!" Pippin pouted. "And Rosie is always after me with the tea towel, even when I haven't done anything...........except grab a few tartlets or a slice of cake, or steal a few mouthfuls of stew. It's not fair, Sam. If Rosie doesn't want me tasting her cooking, she shouldn't be such a wonderful cook."

       "I'll be sure to tell her," said Sam drily. He glanced at Frodo. "I reckon we'd best be steering you to bed. You'll be a sorry sight in the morning I should think, unless you follow that advice of Mr .Bilbo's about drinking water before you go to sleep."

       "How much water?" asked Merry. "Drink a lot of water and we'd never get any sleep between visits to the privy!"

       "Mr. Bilbo said two glasses," said Sam, hooking Frodo's arm round his neck. "C'mon, m'dear, let's get you moving."

       Frodo giggled. "Silly! I think I can walk - just......" He dragged himself up, swayed a little, then regained his composure. "There! Knew I could!"

       "I may need more help than Frodo," said Aragorn with a laugh. "I don't remember the last time I was this drunk." He rose, slid back in his seat and the group promptly collapsed in hysterics again.

       Progress to the door was slow and repeatedly interrupted by incidents such as these. Eventually they all managed to stumble into the corridor and stagger to their rooms, although not before one last rousing verse of "Heigh ho, to the bottle I go......." which woke anyone who happened to be asleep except, fortunately, the babies, who snoozed blissfully through the off-key singing, even if their nurses did not.

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       There was little sign of a masculine presence stirring anywhere in the Citadel the next morning. Arwen stole from bed early when her milk started flowing, leaving Aragorn slumbering heavily. She, Eowyn and Rosie compared notes, giggling at the descriptions and planning to use their fragility as a source of fun when they did finally emerge from bed.

       "Sam did drink some water last night, and I've never known him have a really bad hangover, but there's always a first time. He said he hadn't seen Frodo so drunk for years." Rosie blew a raspberry on little Pippin's tummy and he gurgled and kicked. Eowyn grabbed one of the little feet and began to tickle it, making him laugh and wave his hands.

       Arwen stroked her baby daughter's hair. Little Melian, who was named after the mother of Luthien Tinuviel, the Maia whose blood flowed in the veins of both Arwen and Aragorn, stretched out a hand and grasped a strand of her mother's long dark hair. Arwen disentangled the tiny fingers before the hair went in her mouth, and kissed the child gently. She put her on the rug with Eowyn's daughter, Theodwyn, and baby Pip, and all three women sat on the floor to watch and play. The children explored each other carefully, grasping hands and feet. The little girls soon discovered that Pip had a lot of hair on his feet while they had none, and this kept them occupied for some time before they finally dozed off in a tangled heap.

       The older children tumbled in later, indignant that their fathers were not up and ready to play. Little Eldarion was quite upset to be told that Aragorn was still asleep, but he cheered up when Arwen explained.

       "I'm afraid Papa has rather a headache this morning, my pet. They all do - just be as quiet as you can for a while and I'm sure he'll make it up to you later."

       "We heard the singing when they went to bed," young Boromir added, giggling. "It sounded funny."

       "Will Uncle Frodo be awake yet, Aunt Rose?" Eldarion asked, sitting beside her and stroking little Pip's curls.

       "Probably not, dear. They all drank a bit too much ale last night so it will probably be a late start for everyone today." She smiled. "Would you like to hold the baby?" She placed him into the arms of the future King of Gondor, and smiled to see the earnest little boy tenderly cradling the baby hobbit.

       Eowyn gazed at her son. "Bobo! Please tell me there isn't a mouse or a frog in your pocket! You really shouldn't bring such things into the nursery!"

       Boromir opened his eyes wide and tried to look affronted. "Only one frog, Mama! I wanted to show Papa - he's a big frog. Look!" He scooped the creature from his pocket and it sat on his hand.

       "The pond is where he belongs. Poor thing, he doesn't wish to spend all day in your dry, stuffy pocket, covered in fluff and Eru knows what else. Besides, for all you know, Aunt Rosie might be afraid of frogs!" Eowyn tried to be cross with her son but it was not easy. When he stole a glance up into her face she saw his father's eyes.

       "Frightened? Bless you! Couldn't be frightened of frogs - the pond at Bag End is full of them. My Sam likes to encourage the frogs and toads because they eat the flying insects in the garden. Silly things are in and out of my kitchen all day in the summer, and they make such a noise at night with a chorus of croaking. When I first moved in I wondered how Sam and Frodo ever slept with that noise going on, but now I don't really notice it."

       Boromir took the frog over to show Rosie, before departing reluctantly to put it back near the large pond in the gardens of the Citadel. Eowyn shook her head, laughing.

       "He's incorrigible, that one! I try to be stern with him because his father won't, but it's very difficult. Poor Faramir, he wants to be close to his son because his father was so distant with him. He tries to treat them all the same too, because he was always aware that his brother was the favourite, and that is not fair to a child."

       "You must find it very difficult with five of them, Rose?" said Arwen, as they handed the babies to the nurses and went to the royal apartments for breakfast.

       "Have to be careful not to have favourites. If I have to shout at one they all get it! As for five......I had my fortune told once, at Hobbiton Fair, and she said I'd have twice that number and a few beside! Reckon my Sam went quite pale when I told him that, but I said he'd got the easy bit. It's me as has to carry and birth them!"

       The royal ladies began to laugh at Rosie's down-to-earth philosophy, and soon all three were giggling and swapping feminine gossip. They sat down to a good breakfast while the children tried unsuccessfully to play quietly.

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

       The King of Gondor awoke and regretted it. His first semi-coherent thought was that a group of dwarfs had begun knocking down the Citadel with very large hammers, and several of them seemed to be inside his head. His second thought was that something had crawled into his mouth and died. His tongue felt fuzzy, as though it was covered in a thickly-woven cloak. Vague memories of singing, laughing and falling over drifted through his fuddled brain; he groaned and covered his face. He should have known better - what had possessed him? Mind you, it had been a wonderful evening, and he had been delighted to see Frodo so well, having so much fun. He must talk to Frodo later..........how was Frodo dealing with the after effects of the previous night, he wondered. He tried to roll over, but the pounding in his head and the uneasy roiling in his stomach prevented him. He remained still, tried to shut out the glaring light of a beautiful July morning, and went back to sleep.

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

       The three women looked up in surprise as Frodo and Sam walked in. They were both walking carefully and seemed rather quiet, but the fact that they were there at all astonished everyone.

       "Well look who's here! Morning boys, how are you after all that ale? Got a headache, Sam?" Rosie teased.

       Sam grunted. "Morning, your Majesty, Your Highness. Morning, love. Tea?" he added plaintively, slumping into a chair.

       Frodo waved at the three, and collapsed next to Sam. "Tea," he repeated, gazing blankly at the table. He was paler than usual and his eyes looked somewhat red, and combing his hair had clearly been beyond him since the dark curls were all over the place. He looked rather dazed and Eowyn had to look away before she started giggling.

       Rosie supplied tea without comment, and Frodo took the sugar bowl and added four spoons to his cup. He stirred it very quietly and then drank it quickly, as though it were medicine. When he had downed it he wordlessly handed the cup to Rosie for a refill. After three cups, he sat back, wiggled his toes and risked a sideways glance at Sam, who had also drunk a lot of tea.

       "Better?" he enquired, a little huskily. "I'd be dead without the tea."

       "Reckon I'll live. In fact, I think I could manage some breakfast now," Sam replied, peering at the table. One of the servants took a plate and went to the side table, which was laden with everything a hobbit could possibly desire for first or second breakfast.

       Frodo contented himself with dry toast, not caring to risk anything else yet. He nibbled cautiously and then smiled at the three smirking women.

       "Alright, yes, we were extremely drunk last night, and I don't like to think what sort of state I'd be in now, if I hadn't taken Sam's advice and drunk two glasses of water before I fell asleep. Bilbo was right - it does work."

       "We heard the .......ah........singing!" said Eowyn, unable to stifle her giggles any longer. "It was ........er.........most educational!"

       "'Nineteen Nights in Nobottle'! You two should be ashamed!" said Rosie, her shoulders quivering with suppressed laughter. "I'd never have believed that you knew the words to that one, Frodo Baggins!"

       "I am, I am. Can't quite believe it myself, Rose. Mind you, everyone was singing it, not just me. Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir singing obscene songs - complete with hand gestures!"

       Arwen's laughter exploded. "Oh were they? Wait till they emerge - I'll give them a talking to!" Her dark blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "I think the sight of the Prince of Mirkwood with a hangover would be most amusing, don't you?" Perhaps we should take him some tea soon.........."

       "My lady Arwen," murmured Rosie, "Your wicked mind matches mine - I was thinking much the same!"

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

       Legolas tried to think positively. Elves were immortal. They could only be killed in battle or die of grief. Nowhere had he read that an Elf could die from too much alcohol or the resulting headache. He was uncertain if that was a good thing. He had been drunk before, of course, but never quite that drunk. Vague memories of very vulgar songs drifted through his fuddled brain. Had he really been singing words like that? He groaned at the memory. Worse, he had drunk ale instead of wine, and ale and Elves did not mix terribly well.

       The sound of female laughter in the passage outside his room brought him back to the present. Someone said "Ssshhhh!" and there was a light tap at the door. Legolas risked a peep, wincing at the bright light from the window. The door opened and in stepped the Queen, Lady Eowyn and Rosie, bearing a tray.

       "Feeling rather fragile, Legolas?" the Queen enquired, trying not to smirk. "We brought you some tea."

       "Th........thank you," he murmured. He heard Eowyn splutter and felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. She was laughing at him! He sat up and glowered. "I suppose you're enjoying yourselves at my expense?"

       "Poor dear, I don't suppose he's used to hangovers," said Rosie, her eyes twinkling. "Try and drink the tea, pet, it will make you feel better."

       Legolas peered at the brown liquid and shuddered, but he closed his eyes and gulped it down. For a few moments he struggled with his stomach, which was busy telling him it did not want this, but finally he opened his eyes and mumbled, "That's...........better."

       Arwen smiled. "You'll live. You should see Estel. He looks terrible! Little Gilraen went in and woke him, and he was not very happy."

       "He looked rather green," said Eowyn, chuckling. "And my husband is no better. He and Beregond staggered down a few minutes ago, both clutching heads and whispering. Haven't even seen Merry and Pippin yet."

       Legolas drank a second cup. "What about Gimli? Is he up yet?" He had always dismissed the hobbits' claims that tea was a cure for hangovers, but he was beginning to appreciate its curative properties.

       "No, he isn't. So you're one up on him, which you can tease him about for months!" Rosie giggled. "I think we'd best leave this poor lad to get dressed, and see if we can assist any other sufferers. After all, can't have gossip about ladies visiting him in his room while he's in a state of undress, now can we?"

       "Certainly not!" the royal ladies chorused, and they departed, only to collapse in hysterics in the corridor.

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

       Eventually everyone surfaced, delicate and a little pale but happy to be together. The King pulled himself together enough to mix one of his own cures, and by early afternoon they were all having a late luncheon. The children were sitting at their own table, talking excitedly about plans for the next few days. There was much to see, and Legolas and Gimli were to take the hobbits on a tour of the city the next morning.

       Lord Celeborn sat with his youngest great-grandchild on his lap. Melian wrapped her tiny fingers round one of his, and gazed into his face. Elf babies were very aware, and she seemed to possess an extraordinary gravity for a child of five months. He smiled down at her, and she responded with a huge smile. He reached out and stroked her cheek, and she cooed softly.

       "She is enchanting, my child." He looked at Arwen. "She is much like you at that age." He looked at little Theodwyn, who was sleeping in her mother's arms. "Look at the contrast of colouring - these red-gold curls against Melian's black. Beautiful!" Then he nodded at baby Pip, awake and looking at the food around him. "Now there is a young hobbit! Not yet six months, and already eyeing the food on offer!"

       Rosie laughed. "We certainly chose the right name for him! Takes after his uncle where food's concerned! He'll eat us out of house and home when he's older!"

      "Isn't this wonderful?" Frodo leaned back. "I cannot believe I'm here, and with all my friends about me."

       "To see you here, my dear friend, warms my heart and makes me happier than I can say," said Aragorn softly, hugging Frodo. We have so much to catch up on. And in September you will see how we celebrate your birthday. The people of the city have been awaiting your presence on the day and they are all overjoyed. It will be very special."

Sam said little, but his look of contentment spoke for him as he gazed around the room. "I don't think it could be any better," he said.

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