Chapter Six: A Time for Joy

Sam looked on with a grateful smile from inside the smial as Merry and Pippin engaged their cousin in a game of tag. So it had been going since the cousins had arrived two weeks earlier for Frodo’s birthday celebration. Aragorn had not been able to stay more than two days and Frodo had been very sad to see him go so soon. He would have held him forever, but he let go and watched him leave and then retreated into the smial and nothing anyone could do could entice him in any activity that day. After a long walk with Gandalf the next day, Frodo returned alone, bereft of another source of support and was nearly as silent that day. But the next he was better and had allowed himself to be dragged into a game of checkers with Merry and Pippin. He won, which gave him some satisfaction and a small smile to his face. He had held his cousins then for a long time without talking and that too seemed to soothe him.

Sam hadn’t thought it his place to ask them to stay though he dearly wished they would, but Merry and Pippin had figured things out themselves and seen how much their beloved cousin needed some distraction, so they overwhelmed him with so many activities he had no time to be sad and too exhausted to have nightmares. It gave them all, Frodo included, great joy to flourish under their watchful, loving care. Sam thought it was as though his beloved brother was bleeding deep within and while Sam did all he could, he could only control the bleeding. Merry and Pippin were able to stop it and Sam was eternally grateful for that and would have loved to have them stay forever, though he wondered how he would ever feed them, especially someone with Mr. Pippin’s appetite. Sam had long ago stopped thinking of Frodo as a childhood companion on romps through the Shire, but the younger hobbits never had and it was that that Frodo needed, a reminder that there had been happier, carefree days. A shriek of laughter came from outside and Sam smiled. It was Frodo’s.

"Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?" Rose asked as she joined her husband.

"The most beautiful sound there is, my Rose," Sam agreed. "The most beautiful sound," he repeated much softer, almost to himself.

The sun would be setting soon and they all knew that Frodo no longer stayed out after that and soon enough Sam and Rose heard the door slam and excited voices in the hall. Three bright, shiny faces, red from exertion and excitement, greeted them. Sam could have stared at his dearest friend forever from the sheer joy of seeing him happy. Frodo smiled at him as he tried to catch his breath. Sam returned that smile.

Pippin grabbed Frodo’s arm and would have dragged him off somewhere, but the elder hobbit stood his ground. "No more tonight, Pip dear. Have pity on an old man. I shall sleep very well tonight I think because of you. I am certainly too tired to do anything else."

The tween beamed. "I should hope so, cousin, for your sake, because tomorrow is another day!"

Sam’s smile widened and he shook his head as Frodo gave a mock-groan and moved off to the parlor to sit down. He extended the smile to Pippin who looked between him and Merry who was smiling widely as well at the tween with love and pride.

Pippin rubbed his hands together, bouncing on his heels, quite proud of himself. "Well, that was fun! I have tomorrow all sorted out as well for how our cousin shall be entertained."

"Very good, Pip," Merry said. "I shall leave it in your capable hands and join our dear one for a breather."

When Sam came to check on his brother before bedtime, he found him already with his eyes closed in Bilbo’s larger bed, safely ensconced between his two sleeping cousins, with a smile on his face. Sam stared for a long time at that smile, memorizing it, then he brushed at Frodo’s curls and leaned down to kiss his head. "Good night, dear," he murmured. "Sleep well. I love you."

"Good night, my Sam," came the very sleepy reply. "I love you, too."

Merry reached out in his sleep and put an arm around his cousin. Sam left, knowing his brother was literally in very good hands. Frodo woke only once when Pippin’s restless legs jabbed him. He turned over and brushed at the tween’s curls.

"You’re kicking again, dearest," he said softly.

"Sorry," Pippin whispered. "I’ll move."

Frodo took his hand. "No, I want you to stay right here. Forever if you can manage it."

Pippim smiled, then realizing his cousin couldn’t see it, he brushed his brow with a quick kiss instead. "I think I can, at least until Pa drags me back to grow up."

Frodo laughed quietly. "I don’t anyone can make you do that, dear ’squeak. I think you will remain forever young. But then sometimes I think you are already grown."

They drifted back to sleep. The morning found them rising early. After breakfast, Frodo went to the study to work on his book and Merry and Pippin went with him part of that morning, answering his questions about their roles in the War after they had been parted. They remained close about what their treatment at the hands of the orcs, not wanting to upset their cousin, but Frodo had already been the day they were reunited when he had touched the scar on Merry’s forehead and had looked at it with frightened, worried eyes. Merry had grasped the fingers that searched the area and held them away as Frodo looked at him. "It’s all right, cousin," he had said to the questions in those beautiful eyes. "It all turned out all right." That was all he ever said and Frodo had not asked further.

The other mornings the two hobbits left their elder alone and impatiently waited for lunch to come so they could drag their cousin away. They all knew he was never truly alone. He was with all his memories and those, they well knew from their own nightmares, could be overwhelming.

So it was this morning, that after their interviews were over and Frodo had politely thanked them for their input, he had turned back to scribble furiously while Pippin and Merry very nearly drove Sam to distraction with all their impatient pacing waiting for noon.

When at last the appointed hour came, Pippin sprang toward the study like a cage animal suddenly freed from chains. Sam looked at the floor as though he believed he would see a furrow there caused by all the pacing.

Pippin entered the study and physically dragged Frodo away, barely even giving him the time to drop his quill. "Come on out, cousin, or you are going to get as moldy as the books."

"My books are not moldy!" the elder hobbit protested, but went away willingly enough, resisting the tween’s pull only long enough to put the stopper in the ink bottle and clean his quill.

They had lunch out in the garden for it was uncommonly warm weather out. Frodo still shivered in it, though he tried to hide that and his four companions tried to honor his unspoken wish to ignore it as well until Sam finally couldn’t stand it anymore and went back in to bring out a blanket to put around his brother’s shoulders. Frodo had grasped it gratefully and a little sadly.

"Thank you, Sam," he said.

He was carefully watched by both his cousins to make sure he ate enough. They piled his plate with food and refilled his glass and didn’t allow him to stop until they, not he, determined that he should.

"But if I eat another bite, I shall burst!" he protested more than once and they ignored him as they had every other time he had said anything similar for the last two weeks and he kept eating and they kept smiling among themselves, Sam and Rosie also.

Afterwards, Pippin took him by the arm. "Let’s go for a walk, cousin. It’s a beautiful day for one, don’t you think?"

Frodo gave him a loving, indulgent smile. "And for what else, dear, I wonder?"

"You’ll see!"

Frodo laughed and let himself be led by the hand down the walk. "Slowly," he said. "I’ve eaten so much I can barely move."

Pippin looked up, smiled and tugged his cousin along. The tween kept up a constant stream of chatter, looking over occasionally at his cousin to make sure he was still listening. Frodo smiled, squeezed his hand and put in the few words he could manage while Pippin paused to take a breath. At one point, the youngster let go of his cousin’s hand to animatedly describe something and when he looked over next, he suddenly realized that Frodo was no longer at his side. He looked around warily, well familiar with the tricks he, Merry and Frodo had played on each other when young. A slow smile spread on his face as he realized that was happening again. It was nearly wiped off when he was tackled to the ground from behind and his assailant sat on his back.

"You dare to call my books moldy!" came a deep, threatening voice.

Pippin giggled. "Yes, I do dare and more besides!"

"Impudent Took!"

"Moldy Baggins!"

"Baggins? Who is this Baggins? I am Balderac, Lord of Dragons!"

Pippin tried to squirm but he remained firmly pinned. "Don’t you mean Balderdash?"

"Ahhhh!!" the dragon roared and Pippin giggled all the harder even with hands on his shoulders pushing him further down. "I will punish you for your careless words! Yield now!"

"Never!" Pippin cried defiantly.

The pressure on his shoulders eased suddenly and he began to squeal and squirm as his cousin began to tickle him mercilessly, knowing from long experience exactly where the tween was most vulnerable.

"Do you yield!?" came the dragon’s roar once more, but not so deep or threatening as Frodo began to laugh as well.

"All right! All right!" Pippin cried between breathless giggles. "I yield!"

Frodo immediately stopped and released his prisoner. Pippin got up, looked at his cousin’s beaming face and directly in the eye, pleased beyond all telling to see only the vaguest of shadows there. "But I still think you and you books are moldy," he pronounced cheerfully, then scampered out of the way as the dragon roared again and lunged after him, running full out toward the laughing hobbit. He was no longer shivering.

When they finally returned to Bag End, it was time for dinner. Sam looked up as they entered, at the whirlwind that was Pippin and the gentle breeze that was his brother. Their faces were shining, lit from within. Frodo had twigs and leaves in unruly curls and grass stains on his shirts and breeches and mud on his feet. Sam thought he had never seen his brother look more beautiful.

His eyes smarted a little from the sheer joy of seeing him so filled with light, like he had ever been before the Ring and so rarely after it. Frodo looked at him beaming, trying to catch his breath, and Sam smiled, then turned away to fetch his brother some clean clothes and set a jug aside in his bath to clean his feet. Frodo was still beaming when the gardener returned and Pippin equally so, very pleased with his accomplishment of once more making his cousin so happy. Merry smiled at him proudly.

Sam handed Frodo his clothes and smiled. "Dinner’s almost ready," he said.

"Thank you, Sam," Frodo said. "I’m starving."

Sam’s smile grew beautific. Frodo, who barely ate enough to keep body and soul together, was starving! At this, the swelling in love in Sam’s heart spilled over and he clasped his beloved brother tightly in his arms. Frodo hugged his dear guardian back just as joyfully. The younger hobbit could have happily held his elder forever, but settled for a long moment, then kissed his brow and reluctantly let go.

"You better get changed and cleaned up, dear," he said. "Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are already going to beat you to the table and you know what that means."

"I do indeed, Sam," Frodo said with a loving, teasing smile for his beloved cousins.

Merry pulled Pippin into a tight side embrace as Frodo disappeared into his bedroom. "Thank you," Merry murmured and Pippin beamed.

The dinner that night was filled with light and cheer. Merry and Sam both made sure that Pippin got extras, especially of the sweets he adored, which made him very happy. And they all watched Frodo take seconds which made them all even happier.

When Sam made his nightly check to make sure that his brother was tucked in, he stood there for a long time just looking at the slumbering Frodo’s smiling, peaceful features, his light shining from within as bright as it ever had, his body curled around Merry’s and both cousins’ arms sheltering him. Sam leaned down, brushed at his curls and kissed his brown, breathing in that clean scent that was uniquely Frodo’s. "Good night, dear. Sleep well. I love you so much."

"Love you, too, Sam," Frodo murmured, "very much."

Sam watched him for a little while longer, then left for his and Rosie’s room, a smile on his face as he held the memory of Frodo’s smiling face in his heart. The four hobbits hoped in the joy of their time together, Frodo would forget all together that the next day with the 6^th.