35 ~ And then... 

The clock on the mantle strikes nine in the evening, and suddenly Rosie rises from her seat. “We should get the children in bed, Ellis. There’s no reason keepin’ ‘em up, and we can wake them, should somethin’ happen.”

Ellis nods, rising and lifting Amber into his arms. She is already half asleep, yawning as she wraps her arms around his neck.

Sam and I rise and we help pack the ten little ones off to bed.

As soon as we get the last child in bed in one of the three rooms the children share, there is a knock at the door, and Ellis rushes to open it so the sound doesn’t disturb the healer in the other room.

“Ferdinand!” Ellis cries softly. “You came!” He flings the door open wider as a hobbit of about 39 or 40 enters, carrying a small baby wrapped in a pink knitted blanket and a boy of about three or four toddling behind him arms wrapped around his leg.

Ellis ushers them in, taking the baby out of the hobbits arms.

“How is she?” he questions.

“I don’t know. The healer shut the door a few hours ago and hasn’t come out since,” Ellis replies. Suddenly he notices the hobbit staring at Sam, Rosie and I. “Oh, Ferdi, this is my teacher, Mr. Frodo Baggins, an’ his family, Sam an’ Rosie Gamgee. They’re good friends o’ Mum an’ Da too.” He turns to us. “This is my brother in law, Ferdinand Burrows, and his son Ben, and daughter, Ana. He was married to my sister, Ana.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say, bowing my head in greeting.

“And you,” he says, returning the gesture. “Ben’s tired, Ellis. Do you think I could slip in and put him to bed with Ted and Brin?”

“Of course. We just sent them to bed, so they’re probably not asleep yet,” Ellis says, sitting down on the makeshift couch, holding baby Ana carefully in his one good arm.

I stand behind him, gazing over his shoulder at the baby. “She’s beautiful,” I say.

“Looks like her Mum,” Ellis replies. “Someone asked me why I don’t hate her, since she’s the cause of Ana dyin’. I told ‘em, I couldn’t hate her. She’s almost all I got left of my sister.”

* * *

The clock on the mantle strikes eleven. Ellis is asleep on the couch, Rosie is rocking baby Ana, while Ana’s father paces the floor restlessly. I am lying at the foot of the couch with my head in Sam’s lap, as he absentmindedly straightens the tangles in my curls.

The door to the bedroom opens, and Mr. Goodbody comes out, looking extremely tired. Ellis is instantly awake and sitting up. Ferdinand stops pacing.

I rise to a sitting position, and search his face for a sign of what had occurred, but I’m not able to tell if it is good or bad.

“She’s alive,” he says, a small smile of relief flooding across his face. “The healer says she’ll probably not walk again on her own, but she’s gonna live.”

Behind me I feel Ellis sag in relief, and Ferdinand supports Mr. Goodbody to the cough, where he sinks down and pulls Ellis to him, tears streaming down his face.

As soon as they’ve composed themselves, Mr. Goodbody turns to me. “Thank you for comin’ out here. It feels good knowin’ folk really care,” he says.

“We couldn’t do nothing,” I say. “We’re only glad we could help.”

Sam and I stand. “We’d best go now,” Sam says.

“If you need anything else, feel free to send someone for us,” I say as Rosie hands Ana to Ferdinand, and gathers our cloaks and things.

“Thank you again,” Mr. Goodbody says.

“You’re quite welcome,” Sam replies.

I look back and see Ellis mouth goodbye, and I nod in farewell.

Sam and Rosie bid them goodnight, and we head home, exhausted, but relieved.