Chapter Seven: Letters

The next morning, after second breakfast, Sam spent time in the garden. Frodo took his box of letters from his nieces and nephews and cousins and sat out on the bench near where his brother worked. Some of the letters Frodo had read many times overs, others were still so new they had only been read once or twice. He drew out some of the oldest to read again. He knew them so well he could have repeated them in his sleep and he knows sometimes he had indeed done that. Bilbo mentioned sometimes about him talking in his sleep. Even now, his lips moved silently as he read them and he imagined what the voices of such beloved ones as these had sounded like.

Dear Uncle Frodo, this is Elanor. I wish I could remember you. I know you loved me and I know I loved you, still love you, but I can’t remember you. I think I dream of you sometimes, at least I think I hear your voice when you used to sing to me. My da sings to me and he has the most lovely, sweet voice. He tells me he sings to me the same songs he used to sing to you. I close my eyes then as he holds me and I just listen and I can hear all his love for me in his voice. I smile and feel I can burst because he loves me so much. Did you feel the same when he would sing to you? It’s those nights that I dream I can hear your voice singing those Sindarin (my da told me how to spell that) lullabies and I can remember you then and how much you loved me and how much I loved you. Do you remember singing to me?

Dear Uncle Frodo, my name is Merry. I know my sister drew you my picture when I was a baby, but I had her make you another one because I’m much more grown up now. I’m seven! And this is the first time I could write to you myself instead of telling her or my da or my mum what to write. The only Frodo I really know is my brother named after you, but I feel I know you too because Da is always talking about you. He misses you so much and loves you even more and I do too. So does Uncle Merry. He’s always talking about you too and so is Uncle Pippin. I wish you were here, but Da says you had to go away so you could get better from whatever made you sick. Do you think you could come back when you are better? I hope so. You’ll know me because Uncle Merry says I look a lot like him. I’m glad Mum and Da named me Merry instead of Meriadoc, but don’t tell Uncle Merry. I don’t know if he would like that. I’m including one of my baby teeth so you’ll have something of me and some of my hair from the last time Mum cut it. And some of my Frodo’s and my Pippin’s and Elanor’s, Rosie-lass, Goldie’s, Ham’s and Daisy’s. They are all my brothers and sisters. Daisy’s just a baby. I’ve bound them all with their initials so you’ll know which is which. Could you send me some of yours? Who cuts your hair? Love, Merry

Dear Uncle Frodo, my name is Pippin. Just Pippin, not Peregrin (I had to ask my da how to spell that) like Uncle Pippin is called at times. He told me that was a type of bird, but I am glad that I am not named after a bird, but after a hobbit. My brothers are helping me with this letter, but this is all my writing because I wanted you to see what I write like. I am almost six. I love my Uncle Pippin very much and my Uncle Merry and my da and mum and all my brothers and sisters, especially my brothers Frodo and Merry. And I love you, too, Uncle Frodo. Everyone is always talking about you so we all know about you. I wish you were here. Do you think you will ever come back? Da says you were very sick and had to go away and he cries sometimes because of that, but he said you were going to get better where you went. I am glad that you will. I know it’s no fun being sick. I am going to draw a picture of myself giving you a big hug and hopefully that will make you feel better. Da and Mum’s hugs always make me feel better when I’m sick. And I’m going to draw them too so you can have their hugs too. They are even better than the tea and jam they make for me when my throat hurts so much I can’t take anything else. And sometimes, if my stomach is not upset, they give me sweets they wouldn’t normally so I can feel a little bit better. So I suppose I shouldn’t say it’s never fun being sick, because sometimes it is! Do you have someone to give you sweets when you are sick? I hope so and all the hugs and kisses you could ever want. I wish I could send you some of the tea and jams and those sweets Da and Mum give, but Da says he’s not sure they would survive properly and I don’t want to make you any sicker. But you’ll still be getting the best part - the hugs! Love, your friend, Pippin

Frodo looked up into the bright sunshine. The love saturated in those letters had sustained him through the years as much as Sam’s love had. Many tears, both of pain and joy, had been wept over them. When he had first received the letter from his nephew Pippin, he had stared for the longest time at the hugs the lad had drawn - three stick figures with their arms wide open. He had hugged the letter back and wished with his all heart he could have actually hugged the giver of such a loving gift. He stared long now and wished for the same thing. He had slept with the letters sometimes. It had helped him remain close to all those he held dear in his heart, though he had never seen many of them. He treasured the few lines Sam would add each time, sometimes smeared by the years of running his fingers over the writing or the tears that had fallen on them.

He watched his Sam now for a long time with a happy smile on his face, then he put the letters away and stood up and re-entered the smial. His brother was going to be tired and sweaty after all this and he was going to take full advantage of that dear one being distracted a little longer.

After a half hour, the elder hobbit came out again with a full platter of goodies for elvenses that he placed on a white table. "Maita, my Sam? Hungry?"

The gardener looked up as Frodo brought him a tall glass of lemon water. "Soica?" Frodo asked. Thirsty?"

Sam wiped at his sweaty brow. "Hantanyel, meldanya." He drank it down, then smiled as Frodo took the glass back and refilled it and placed it back on the table.

He pulled out a chair for his brother. "A hara, ammelda! Sit!"

Sam laughed a little. "Not until you do. I see you can’t be left alone for a minute without getting into some mischief. Are we going to argue about who is going to make meals as long as we live here?"

Frodo grinned. "Let’s sit down together. And yes, I think, we are going to argue for a long time." They sat down and Frodo placed his napkin on his lap and reached to serve his brother from the large mushroom salad he had made, but his brother beat him to it and served him instead.

"I’ve been taking care of you or wanting to take care of you all my life, dear, and I’m not about to stop," Sam said. "I don’t know if you felt it all those years apart..."

"Yes, I did. I felt every bit of it. All those times you held me so I could sleep. All the wishes goodnight and how you loved me. I heard it all. My heart did at least. And I hope you heard all of mine and all the times I held you back. I never knew if you could, so you can understand, I’m sure, after all this time, how much I want a few opportunities to take care of you."

Sam looked into his brother’s bright, loving, just slightly mischievous, eyes for a long time, tears bright in his eyes. He reached out and took his hand and felt Frodo’s curl around his tightly.  "I can’t let you out of my sight for a minute, can I?" the younger hobbit murmured.

The elder grinned. "I suppose not. But one meal a day, ammelda, is that so much to ask?"

"Yes, it is," the servant in Sam said with a small laugh.

"Then I suppose I’m just going to have to keep sneaking away until I can convince you otherwise."

Sam laughed harder and shook his head. "I think you are aging backwards, my dear. You sound more and more like Mr. Pippin did when he was a lad or tween."

Frodo beamed. "Hantanyel, ammelda."