Chapter Five: A Visit to an Old Friend

A/N:  Sorry it's taken so long for another chapter.  One of the reasons is I've been teaching myself Quenya (or trying to at least!) 

“What do you say we have a picnic lunch out today, Sam?” Frodo asked as they walked back. “I’ll make it with all our favorites. I know just the place. We can start your lessons in Quenya in earnest. It’s such a lovely day, don’t you think?”

Sam smiled. “Did you think, Iorhaelnya, with all those extra words I wouldn’t catch what you said? I thought we had decided I was going to make the meals.”

Frodo barely hesitated. “Well, yes, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. But, please, Sam, you can make breakfast, can’t I make lunch?”

“I have waited a very, very long time to make you anything, melmenya, and I’ve hardly made you anything yet.”

“Well, I would hardly call six meals a day for the last three days, nothing,” Frodo pointed out, glad that Sam was already picking up some Quenya. “And I’ve waited just as long to make you something.”

Sam sighed and Frodo held his breath for a moment, suddenly hopeful. “All right,” the younger hobbit said, “if it’ll make you happy, you can pack a basket with whatever you want, but I’m carrying it.”

Frodo looked at his brother for a moment, rather stunned that he had actually won the argument. He waited for a few seconds before he celebrated to really make sure. Sam looked at him with nothing but tender love and the elder hobbit cheered. “Oh, hantanyel, ammelda!” He vigorously swung the hand he held back and forth as they walked as though a child who had just been given a great boon by his father. Sam laughed. “You’re welcome, dear.”

They had a quick breakfast, then Frodo excitedly went into the kitchen to start preparing the feast right then as though afraid Sam may take back the victory that had been won so unexpectedly.

“And no preparing anything else but what goes in the basket,” that dear one warned. “I know how tempting that’s going to be for you to do elevenses too.”

Frodo grinned his most innocent and mischievous. Sam thought that Pippin, who was a master at that, must have learned it from his much elder cousin. “I’ll try to behave myself,” that cousin promised, “but it may be too much in the end. I suppose you’ll just have to put up with it if it comes to that.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. Frodo hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek quickly. “Nanye alassea harvayel tula, ammelda otorono, sie alassea. I am joyous you have come, my dearest brother, so joyous.”

The younger hobbit kissed his head and hugged his beloved brother back. “There’s no other place I’d rather be, meldanya.”

After a long while, they broke apart and Sam left for the garden. He had missed working in the earth. He hadn’t always had the time to do that with thirteen children. Frodo watched him happily for a while outside the window, then returned to gathering what he needed for the picnic, singing softly. From the open window, Sam heard that lovely voice and his heart was more than content. When a little while later, Frodo brought out a tall glass of iced tea, the gardener was glad for the break.

“I think my body is remembering how old it is again,” he said as he gratefully accepted the glass.

“Then rest here on the bench, ammelda,” Frodo said. “It’s just about time for elvenses anyway.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow and sat down. “You made that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, dearheart,” Frodo acknowledged boldly and stared right into his Sam’s eyes as though daring him to rebuke him.

The younger hobbit laughed. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

“I knew you would be tired.”

“Not too tired to take care of you.”

“Well, it’s done now and there’s nothing you can do about it. We can’t let it spoil.”

Sam looked into his brother’s impish, triumphant face and couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go in then and enjoy. And what do you have prepared for the picnic?”

Frodo’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a nulda, a secret. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“And this marvelous place you are taking us, that’s a secret too?”

“For a little while longer. It’s one of my favorite places to be. It’s on top of a tundo, a hill, and you can see so far. I spent much time there and dreamed many a fanore, a day dream, about you and all my nieces and nephews. It’s peaceful and beautiful and a little bit hobbity on this Elvish island.”

Sam looked up surprised. “How can that be?”

Frodo smiled mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

They ate a quick elevenses, then Frodo made to pick up the picnic basket that was covered by a cloth, but Sam stopped him. “I thought we had decided I would carry the basket.”

Frodo looked as though he would argue, then, “All right, but no peeking under the cover.”

Sam laughed. He was struck again how innocent, almost child-like his brother had returned to being. There was no sign any shadow had ever touched him. “Well, part of your secret is already ruined. What’s the word for those mushrooms I smell?”

“Telumbi is the plural, telumbe is singular.”

“I don’t think I’ve much use for the singular. Whoever heard of a hobbit and just one mushroom?”

Frodo laughed, clear and full. Sam thought his heart would spring from his chest just from the beauty of it. “Who indeed, ammelda, who indeed,” the elder hobbit said.

“That was a lovely song you sang earlier, meldanya,” Sam said as they walked out the door.

“Hantanyel. It’s one of Bilbo’s old ones, actually.”

As they walked along, Frodo began to sing it again, this time in Westron and they both remembered the times they had either heard Bilbo sing it or sung it themselves on their romps around the Shire. Now as then, Frodo took Sam’s hand and swung it wide in keeping with the joy of the song and the company.

’Twas early one morn in the spring of the year,

And I was on errantry bound.

The birds they were singing, the flowers were gay,

From blue skies the bright sun shone down.

And O what exceeding great joy filled my heart,

And I sang as I went on my way.

“Oh, why do you sing?” asked a traveller. Said I,

‘I sing for the joy of the day.

“I sing for the spring and the birds and the sun

That shines on the earth warm and bright;

I sing for the glory of moon and of stars

That brighten the cold darkling night.

I sing for the river that flows swiftly on,

Unhindered, untroubled and free,

I sing for the flowers that sweeten the air

And dance in the breeze merrily.

"So come ye, my good lad, and join in my song,

And gladly together we'll sing

Of rivers and flowers and birds and the sun,

That warms this wide world in the spring.

We'll sing of our homes and of food and good cheer,

Of loved ones now far, far away,

We'll sing of our road and of when we return,

We'll sing for the joy of the day.”

Sam sang it himself once Frodo was finished and then they simply enjoyed each other’s company in silence. The younger hobbit looked around him, his gardener’s eye and heart appreciating all the tremendous beauty surrounding him. He couldn’t wait to see more of the island.

Frodo noticed. “Lassselanta, Autumn, is very beautiful here,” he said softly, never losing his own love and joy of it all.

Sam took it all in, but he appreciated most the beauty of the being beside him, a glowing light barely held in a small body that vied with the sun for brightness or so it seemed to Sam.

They arrived at the top of a large hill. Sam laid down the basket and took in the view. It was breathtaking how beautiful it all was, how far he could see. “I think this will become my favorite place, too, ammelda,” he said.

“Let me show you why it’s mine,” Frodo said and he guided his brother to a simple marker laid in the grass.

“This is where Bilbo was buried. I know it’s nothing but his body long abandoned and his soul is held by Iluvatar, but it always comforts me to be here.”

Sam knelt down at the marker and rubbed his fingers along the name of his first master that was carved in Quenya and Westron. He could tell that the area was lovingly maintained. Elanor flowers and morning glory’s were planted around it. Frodo stood by his side and let him have all the time he needed to remember, then the gardener sat back and smiled up at his brother.

“I’m glad it’s here,” he said. “That little bit of hobbityness.”

Frodo smiled back and then knelt down at the basket. “And now for lunch! Ela! Behold!” he cried and with a dramatic flourish uncovered his surprise. Among the mushrooms, deviled eggs and large and varied vegetable salad was a bottle of wine. “That was so kind of Aragorn to send such a lovely gift - that basket and this wine! I think we shall be drinking for days!”

“I’m sure he meant it that way,” Sam said with a smile as he peered into the basket his brother began to unload and lay out on the cloth that had covered it.

“What’s this?” Frodo wondered as he pulled out a piece of parchment. He opened it up and saw his king’s elegant handwriting. Nanye alassea elye haryea atahirne alasse, otornonya, listea.

Tears pricked the hobbit’s eyes. He closed the note and held it to his lips for a moment and closed his eyes. “Hantanyel, otornonya,” he murmured.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes again and set the letter reverently aside. He bowed his head and said softly, “Laita nye, otornonyar ar laita sina apsa ar suca. San na.”

He looked into Sam’s questioning eyes and smiled. “I asked Iluvatar to bless me, my brothers, and the food and drink.”

“Can you say that again, then, a little slower and louder?”

Frodo’s smiled widened and he happily complied with his favorite student’s request. Slowly, Sam repeated it.

Frodo beamed. “Saliava quetina, my Sam! Well said! Now A tule, a mate ar a suce merendo! Come, eat and drink of the feast!” He raised his mug. “Almien! Cheers!”

“Almien!” Sam replied with a smile and a raise of his own mug.

As they savored the meal, more questions about Iluvatar came to him. “Have you gone to that dark room everyday?”

“Almost. Gandalf introduced me to it early on and even before my instruction was complete, I would go there often, especially when the call of the Ring bothered me. It would go away when I sat there, because I came to understand that even though I was an ucarindo, a sinner, I was still loved and forgiven. After my instruction was completed, I did not miss a day.”

“I’d like to start going. Would you instruct me?”

“I would love to. I was so hoping you would come to know Eru.”

Sam chewed thoughtfully on his mushrooms for a long moment. Frodo waited patiently for the questions to come as he remembered how his had come and Gandalf had answered them. He prayed that he’d be wise enough to answer them.

“Mr. Gandalf told me how Iluvatar knew what was going to happen to you and didn’t stop it. I wish He had so you wouldn’t have been so hurt.”

Frodo was silent for a moment. “I wished that many times myself, but we are Eru’s children, my Sam, not his slaves with no will of our own. He allows us to get hurt, to make mistakes, even though He knows how much it will pain us because He respects us enough to let us make our own decisions. I fought the Ring as hard as I could through the grace and strength He gave me, but the Ring influenced me too because as with any creature, I could be swayed one way or another, toward good or evil. If Iluvatar stopped us every time we were about to do something against the goodness and light, we would not be the free children He created us to be. He had placed within each of His children the way to that light and if we but hearken to that Voice inside, we would not be in trouble, but sometimes we don’t listen. It’s like we are told not to touch a hot kettle or we’ll burn ourselves, but sometimes we touch it anyway and learn by doing what is not to be done. Like any parent, I think our mistakes and the pain they cause us, pain Him, more than they hurt us, but still He allows them to happen, even though they break His heart and ours. Or sometimes our common sense is overwhelmed by darker urges inside us and we become who we are not meant to be. Even Sauron was created for the light, but he chose another path. I was seduced in much the same way he was, by lies and trickery and malice, but I chose to come back, he didn’t.

“It would seem wonderful if all the evil we do to ourselves or have done to us could be prevented, but then we would have no will of our own and that is Iluvatar’s great gift to us, that we can make our decisions and choices. Sometimes we make the wrong ones and hurt ourselves or hurt others, but He is always there to guide us back if we allow Him, if we have the courage and humility to accept the hand He offers to us. It was only after I came here that I truly understood that each time a hand was offered to me, whether it was my parents’ or Bilbo’s or Merry’s or yours or Pippin’s, it was really His. I am very glad I accepted each time.”

“So am I.”

A/N:  That song was from Queen Galadriel. Aragorn’s note translated means, “I am joyous you have found joy again, my brother, full of grace.” Frodo’s grace before eating is “Bless me, my brothers and bless this food and drink. Amen.” Or at least that’s what I want them to say and the same goes for Frodo being joyous that his brother is with him again. These are the first sentences I’ve composed in Quenya myself so I hope they are right!