Worth It

Frodo smiled as he watched his Sam sleep in the rocking chair he had given as a wedding gift, his dearest friend's arms wrapped around the wonder of the newborn daughter they had all been gifted with that morning. The Ring-bearer felt a deep peace and contentment instead of the darkness that usually surrounded his heart. It had been pushed back by the marvel of that new life and now he stood in the wide circle of her light and that of her father's which warmed his cold body and soothed his torn soul. Rose watched him from the door and marveled at that light which shone from Frodo so brightly now.

He leaned down to softly kiss the brow of the little one who was already so dear to him.  "Mae tolen, tithen min," Frodo whispered.  Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo. It's all worth it to have you here. Everything bit of it."

He then kissed Sam's head. "What a wonderful father you already are, my Sam."

Frodo moved to his bedroom and was blessed that night by Irmo, lord of dreams, by visions of Elanor and some of the other flowers that Sam and Rosie's bountiful garden would be blessed with. He woke the next morning refreshed instead of more tired than he had been before resting. Seeing Sam again holding his daughter made it all very much worth it indeed.