Chapter Eleven: The Counting Song

The next morning, the sun was bright once more. Puddles were the only thing that remained of the storm and Frodo was mightily tempted to jump into one just as he and Sam and his cousins had done as children. The only thing that restrained him was that he knew his brother would then fell compelled to clean his clothes. That held him back until they were returning from the dark room and then two furry feet made a tremendous splash just outside the garden and there was a peel of laughter from the owner of those feet such as Sam had not heard in a very long while. Frodo raised a radiant face to his brother. There were few times he had looked so beautiful to Sam, so full of light, even though his clothes, legs and feet were now covered in mud.

"You better get yourself into the bath the moment we get in, meldanya," Sam said with a smile.

"Don’t you want to jump in, too, Sam?" Frodo asked.

Sam laughed and shook his head. "I’m 102, dear! I don’t have all the same agility you do. I’d probably just fall in and what a mess that would make!"

"Well, I’m twelve years older than you and you are not going to be feeling all that old the longer you are here. Why, I believe the silver in your hair is already turning back to lighter brown."

"Just get you inside," Sam said with a smile as he took his brother by the arm and began to pull him in.

"Look in a mirror if you don’t believe me," Frodo said, only reluctantly letting himself be led.

"I will after I draw your bath and get breakfast started."

As Frodo cleaned up, Sam took his clothes to start soaking, put out a fresh set on the bed and then worked on preparing breakfast. He did pass a mirror and took a glance in it and was surprised that his hair was indeed beginning to change back. Not that he thought Frodo had lied to him, but teasing.

The elder hobbit emerged from his bedroom, clean and dressed. His hair was still damp, but carefully combed as was his foot hair. He had industriously scrubbed all the mud off and so proudly presented himself for inspection.

"That’s better," Sam said with a smile and Frodo beamed.

They sat down and enjoyed their porridge. Frodo’s toast was on a plate beside him, with just the right amount of jam and his tea was just the right temperature and sweetness.

"You remembered everything," he said with just a bit of wonder.

"Of course."

"Hantanyel."

"You’re welcome, melmenya."

They ate silently for a while, then Frodo spoke again. "I thought I would teach you your numbers today, Sam. I know I gave you a lot to learn yesterday and probably too much at once. So I thought I would have some pity on my favorite student today. Remember the Shire rhyme about numbers? I still remember my mother singing it to me and that’s how I learned."

Sam smiled. "And I remember my mum singing it to me and Rosie singing it to our bairns."

Frodo’s face lit up. "Oh, Sam, won’t it be fun to sing it again! Just like being back home."

After they had finished eating, Frodo insisted on washing the dishes since Sam had insisted on washing his brother’s clothes. When the former servant had wanted to do both, the elder hobbit held up his hand. "Now, Sam, I can’t let you spoil me too terribly. I’ll wash and you wash and then we’ll settle down and remember the Shire."

So they went to their respective tasks, Frodo humming the counting song as he washed.

When Sam reappeared, his teacher was already waiting for him by the door. "Shall we learn in the garden today? It’s so beautiful out."

When they had seated themselves on the bench amidst the myriad flowers and plants, they began to sing, Frodo first and then Sam at each line that started "O tell me..." just as they had sung it with their mothers when they were just little lads. Later in the song as it began to repeat, Sam also joined in there. It was nice to remember Rose again for the loving mother she was. There was some pain in that too and some threatened tears and some hoarseness of voice, but Sam did not falter. He just let himself remember both loving mothers, listen to other beloved voice and marvel in the light of his brother which glowed ever more.

"I'll sing to you of mine, melmenya.

Fair grow the roses.

O tell me of your mine, melmenya.

Mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I'll sing to you of atta, melmenya.

Fair grow the lilies.

O tell me of your atta, melmenya.

Atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya.

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of nelde, melmenya.

Fair grow the bluebells.

O tell me of your nelde, melmenya.

Nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids, clad all in lily white, melmenya.

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya.

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of canta, melmenya.

Fair grow the asters.

O tell me of your canta, melmenya.

Canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya.

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids, clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of lempe, melmenya.

Fair grow the violets.

O tell me of your lempe, melmenya.

Lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya.

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of enque, melmenya.

Fair grow the pansies.

O tell me of your enque, melmenya.

Enque is enque, the snow-white swans that swim upon the water, melmenya.

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of otso, melmenya.

Fair grow the daisies.

O tell me of your otso, melmenya.

Otso is otso, the stars that shine above me as I wander, melmenya.

And enque is enque, the snow-white swans that swim upon the water, melmenya;

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of tolto, melmenya.

Fair grow the poppies.

O tell me of your tolto, melmenya.

Tolto is tolto, the nights I’ve sleepless lain, a-longing for my home, melmenya.

And otso is otso, the stars that shine above me as I wander, melmenya

And enque is enque, the snow-white swan’s that swim upon the water, melmenya;

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of nerte, melmenya.

Fair grow the morning-glories.

O tell me of your nerte, melmenya.

Nerte is nerte, the roads I’ve trod since from you I was parted, melmenya.

And tolto is tolto, the nights I’ve sleepless lain, a-longing for my home, melmenya;

And otso is otso, the stars that shine above me as I wander, melmenya;

And enque is enque, the snow-white swans that swim upon the water, melmenya;

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of cainen, melmenya.

Fair grow the daisies.

O tell me of your cainen, melmenya.

Cainen is cainen, the days I’ve still to wait until I see my home, melmenya.

And nerte is nerte, the roads I’ve trod since from you I was parted, melmenya;

And tolto is tolto, the nights I’ve sleepless lain, a-longing for my home, melmenya;

And otso is otso, the stars that shine above me as I wander, melmenya;

And enque is enque, the snow-white swans that swim upon the water, melmenya;

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of minque, melmenya.

Fair grow the dahlias.

O tell me of your minque, melmenya.

Minque is minque, the leagues that lie before me yet ere I may rest, melmenya.

And cainen is cainen, the days I’ve still to wait until I see my home, melmenya;

And nerte is nerte, the roads I’ve trod since from you I was parted, melmenya.

And tolto is tolto, the nights I’ve sleepless lain, a-longing for my home, melmenya;

And otso is otso, the stars that shine above me as I wander, melmenya;

And enque is enque, the snow-white swans that swim upon the water, melmenya;

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya.

"I’ll sing to you of rasta, melmenya.

Fair grow the roses.

O tell me of your rasta, melmenya.

Rasta is rasta, the songs that I shall sing as I’m returning home, melmenya.

And minque is minque, the leagues that lie before me yet ere I may rest, melmenya;

And cainen is cainen, the days I’ve still to wait until I see my home, melmenya;

And nerte is nerte, the roads I’ve trod since from you I was parted, melmenya.

And tolto is tolto, the nights I’ve sleepless lain, a-longing for my home, melmenya;

And otso is otso, the stars that shine above me as I wander, melmenya;

And enque is enque, the snow-white swans that swim upon the water, melmenya;

And lempe is lempe, the children running glad among the flowers, melmenya;

And canta is canta, the fair white doves that sit upon the gable, melmenya;

And nelde is nelde, the bright-eyed maids clad all in lily white, melmenya;

And atta is atta, the dark and light-haired hobbits, clad all in green and brown, melmenya;

And mine is mine and all alone, alone it aye shall be, melmenya."

Frodo beamed. He leaned over at the end and kissed his brother’s head. "Vande lirne, dearheart! Well sung!"

"Can all the others lessons be sung, too?" Sam asked. "You have such a lovely voice."

Frodo’s smile widened. "I’ll see what I can do."

"And I love to hear it, too," said a new voice.

"Gandalf!" the elder hobbit cried. "How long have you been eavesdropping on us?"

"Oh, no, I’ve been dropping no eaves," the wizard said with a completely straight face, but then a twinkle grew in his eye and suddenly Frodo roared with laughter until Sam had to hold him up to keep him from falling off the bench.  What good it did both of his friends to hear such.

Frodo wiped at mirth-filled tears after he had regained his composure. "I’m sorry, Gandalf, I suppose I needed to laugh. Such is this place that it heals all wounds and a terrifying time can be thought of as hilarious. Do the wonders of Iluvatar ever cease?"

"Indeed not."

The Maia turned his gaze to the younger hobbit. "So, Sam, you’ve been learning your numbers?"

"Yes, Mr. Gandalf, up to twelve at least. That’s as far as that old song went."

"It’s been many a long year since I heard that. I had to come when I heard it now."

"That’s quite all right, Gandalf," Frodo said. "I was beginning to wonder where you were hiding yourself. It’ll be time for second breakfast soon. Care to join us? Sam will be making it. He hardly lets me do anything anymore." He tried to sound annoyed, but couldn’t convince two who knew him so well.

"And I'll be making minqueses as well," Sam added.

Frodo sighed dramatically. 

Gandalf tried very hard to keep from laughing.  "How lucky you are, my dear hobbit," the wizard said with a smile.

"I know," Frodo agreed with a grin and kiss to Sam’s cheek. "Very lucky."

A/N: The song is from the queen with a little modification from me, including adding the numbers in Quenya. Mine is one and then it goes on from there.