Chapter Thirty-five

Esmeralda slipped silently into Frodo and Linwe’s room. Linwe slept quietly in the bed. Esmeralda and Merry had been able to get Linwe's fever down with a stronger medicine, so she was now able to rest more peacefully. Frodo lay on a cot between the bed and the fire place sound asleep. Merry sat on the edge of the cot, gently washing Frodo’s maimed hand with a damp cloth. Merry had just spent the last hour and a half giving Frodo the first bath he had for several days. Merry even went so far as to wash Frodo’s hair. All of this was quit an undertaking since Merry didn’t dare risk waking Frodo by just simply submerging him in a tub full of water. When Frodo barely stirred while having warm water poured over his hair, Merry started to think the full bath may have been possible after all. As Esmeralda took in the scene before her she was reminded of a similar scene from many years before. It was during the brief time that she and a much younger Frodo had both been members of the Master of Buckland’s family. She because she was married to the future Master, Frodo because he had been orphaned and had became the charge of the Master of Buckland himself.

Esmeralda remembered a room lit up in the warm glow of fire and candle light. A small boy with soft brown curls sat on a rug shaking a small rattle to the delight of the baby that lay on the rug next to him. "Esme, look! Merriadoc is smiling at me. He likes me!" young Frodo said happily.

Esmeralda smiled, "Of course he does. I think you are his favorite cousin."

"Do you really think so? I like him too. I can hardly wait until he’s big enough to go exploring with me. Maybe we will some day go find Uncle Bilbo’s trolls," Frodo said excitedly.

Esmeralda chuckled, "I’m afraid you will have a bit of a wait before Merriadoc is old enough for all of that."

"I know." Said Frodo as he continued shaking the rattle for his tiny cousin. Merriadoc smiled his toothless baby smile and waved his chubby baby fists all about, trying to catch the rattle. "Esme?"

"Yes, Dear?"

"I was thinking, Merriadoc is an awfully big name for such a small Hobbit."

"Yes, I suppose it is, but he will grow into it," Esmeralda said as she sat knitting, her needles flickering in the fire and candle light.

"Well, I had an idea that since he is so happy most of the time, that maybe I could call him ‘Merry’ for short. Just until he is big enough to be ‘Merriadoc’ you understand."

Esmeralda looked up from her knitting and smiled, "I think that is a fine idea, Frodo."

Frodo turned back to the baby at his side and smiled happily. "You hear that? I get to call you ‘Merry’. You and I will always be friends as well as cousins, and we will look after one another, wont we Merry?" Baby Merry cooed in agreement and looked up with adoration at Frodo.

Esmeralda smiled to herself. She had quickly learned that for all of his pranks and stealing of mushrooms at every opportunity, Frodo was a sweet sensitive child, despite his reputation as being the terror of the neighborhood. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant every word he had just spoken to his infant cousin.

"Mother?" The now grown up Merry called out to Esmeralda and startled her out of her reverie. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, dear, I am. I was just reminiscing is all. I seem to do that more as I grow old." Esmeralda smiled a small wry smile.

"You may grow older," said Merry, "but I don’t think you could ever grow old."

"And aren’t you the darlin’ boy for saying so," Said Esmeralda adopting the lilting speech of the Tookland farming folk. "How is Frodo?"

"He is sound asleep, I gave him a pretty hefty dose of that sedative and he is exhausted so I think he will sleep for quit awhile." Merry stood up with basin, cloth and towel in hand, and went to return them to the bathroom. Esmeralda took Merry’s place at Frodo’s side. She reached out and brushed the soft brown curls from his temple, and remember the many times she had done the same when Frodo was a boy.

It had been about a year after he had lost his parents when she moved into Brandy Hall as Saradoc’s bride. Old Rory and Menegilda had taken Frodo into their care. Frodo had been settled into Saradoc’s boyhood bedroom, and Saradoc and Esmeralda had taken the room next to it. At first Esmeralda hardly ever saw Frodo. Though he was the ward of the Master of Buckland, in truth Frodo had been allowed to do pretty much as he liked. The boy spent most of his days wandering Buckland alone, helping himself to pies cooling on window sills and produce from any garden that was handy whenever he was hungry. The only time Esmeralda was sure to see him was at dinner, the one meal he always ate at home.

One evening about a month after her arrival, Esmeralda walked by Frodo’s door and heard the sound of weeping coming from the other side. Esmeralda knocked on the door but there was no answer. She opened the door and let herself in. There was Frodo, curled in a tight ball around his pillow, crying. Esmeralda’s heart went out to the small lad and without thinking she went to him and gathered him up in her arms. The ‘Terror of Buckland’ did not resist. Instead he wrapped two rather dirty arms around her neck and pressed his grubby and tear-streaked face into her shoulder and cried himself to sleep. Esmeralda learned that it was at night that Frodo missed his mother and father the most. In the silence of his dark bedroom he was loneliest and missed their presence.

Esmeralda shook off the memories of the past and pulled the quilt up higher over Frodo’s bare chest. It was then she noticed a mark on his left shoulder. "Merry?"

"Yes, Mother," replied Merry as he came back into the room.

"What is this on Frodo’s left shoulder?"

"That is where the Dark Rider stabbed him," Merry said, his face clouding at the memory of the terrifying night.

"But that was two years ago and this wound looks only half healed. He should have nothing but a scar there now."

"It will likely always be as you see it. It was not an ordinary blade that made that wound and some of the poisoning evil still lingers there." Merry said grimly.

Esmeralda felt tears start to sting her eyes. She sat looking at the wound, mournfully, for several long moments, when another thought came to her awareness. She started to look at it more curiously, "There is something familiar about this wound."

Merry’s raised his eye brows in surprise, "How so?"

Esmeralda sighed and shrugged, "I am not certain, but I am sure it is not important." With one last affectionate brush of Frodo’s hair she stood up and turned towards Linwe. "It looks like we managed to get her resting comfortably." Esmeralda reached out and put a hand to Linwe’s brow. "She is still a bit warm, but far better than she was before. A small amount of fever should actually help her." Esmeralda turned from the bed and said to Merry, "I think Linwe is settled for the night. Should I send Sam or Pippin to help you finish getting Frodo settled?"

"That would be most helpful. And could you send them with a dinner tray? I haven’t eaten since we arrived."

Esmeralda chuckled, "Of course, I can’t have you wasting away."

At the door, Esmeralda turned and took another glance about the room with it’s two patients. She noticed that Frodo and Linwe were lying in nearly identical positions, with their right hand on their stomach. A train of thoughts moved quickly through Esmeralda’s mind. She wondered over the coincidence of their lying in such similar poses and then remembered the never healing wound on Frodo’s shoulder.

Merry was surprised to see Esmeralda go back across the room to Linwe’s side and pull the neck line of her gown to one side revealing her left shoulder. "How can that be?" He heard her say to herself.

"How can what be? What is the matter?"

"Merry, come and look." Merry walked over and looked closely at Linwe’s shoulder and saw a long, thin, grayish mark. He reached out and touched it tentatively, "It’s cold! What it is?"

"This appeared on her shoulder when she fell ill, just days after moving to Brandy Hall with her parents. I have never had any idea of what it was or what had caused that illness until now."

Merry looked at his mother with his own puzzled expression. "What do you think it is?"

"Look at Frodo’s wound on his left shoulder and then look at the mark on Linwe’s left shoulder."

Merry did as he was told. "They are the exact size and shape, and in the same location," he said in surprise, "but how is that possible?"

Esmeralda ignored his question, "Tell me what day Frodo was wounded." 

"It was October the sixth."

"That was the same day Linwe collapsed and that mark appeared. Now how long did it take for Frodo to heal?"

"About a fortnight."

"Linwe lay unconscious for a fortnight. In all of that time I could never sort out what was wrong with her. Lila and Marmadas called it a ‘lost spell’. They said that all her life she had them but nothing like what they were seeing then. They said Linwe would go into a daze, not seeing or hearing anything that was going on around her. They said they asked her once what happened when these episodes occurred and she said she did not know."

"Mother, what is it you are trying to tell me?"

"I know this will sound strange, but I can’t get the idea out of my head. It makes so many things fit into place."

"Please, Mother, tell me what you are thinking." persisted Merry.

"Merry, what if all of those times Linwe was having a ‘lost spell’ she was, in some way, sharing in something that was happening to Frodo?"

Merry looked at his mother in disbelief, "You can not be serious, Mother. How would such a thing even be possible?"

"There have always been Tooks who seemed to know things, who could sense things, that know one else could. Frodo and Linwe both have Took blood in them so maybe that is the way."

"No Took has ever showed marks matching another person’s scars though. Besides, Frodo has scars from other wounds he received on the quest. There is one on the back of his neck, and he is missing a finger. Linwe still has all of hers."

"Linwe has her fingers but there is a mark on her right hand ring finger. It goes all the way around and it is in the same place where Frodo’s was bitten off. She also has a mark on the back of her neck. "

Merry looked at his mother in disbelief, "Would those happen to have appeared with her mysterious illness in March of that year?"

"Yes, the one on the back of her neck appeared first. She had been visiting with Merenwen and collapsed suddenly. When Merenwen brought her back to Brandy Hall we found the mark."

"And the mark on her finger, did she suddenly start to recover after that one appeared?"

"Yes."

Merry clenched his jaw and thought for a moment. "From the first moment Frodo and Linwe laid eyes on one another there seemed to be something different about them. Maybe this is that something, but if it is it brings up even more questions than it answers. Do they know something they are not telling anyone else? Is there anyone else who knows about this? What exactly is the connection between them?"

~~~~~

Merry stood facing the silent, astonished faces of Sam, Rosie, and Pippin. Rosie was the first to recover from the shock of Merry’s news and speak, "Are you certain the marks on Linwe match Frodo’s scars?"

"I looked at them closely. They are the same shape and they are located in the same places on her as they are on Frodo. The Mark on her finger even follows the same line as Frodo’s stump," asserted Merry, "You can look for yourself if you like."

Sam shook his head, "I don’t understand how this is even possible. This is unbelievable."

"To a Took it is believable," came Pippin’s quiet reply.

"What did you say?" asked Sam.

"I said that to a Took it is believable. You have all heard the rumors of a long ago Took marrying one of the fairy folk."

"Yes," said Sam, "and all of you Tooks are quick to laugh it off as nonsense when ever anyone mentions it."

"I’ll not deny it this time," said Pippin, "A Took did marry one of the fairy folk, and to this day the fairy blood runs strong in some Tooks. It is the reason why some have left never to be heard from again. Some Tooks have a habit of knowing things that are about to happen or have happened miles away. You can tell which Tooks have the fairy blood by their green eyes." Sam’s eyes widened, suddenly he was acutely aware that Pippin’s own eyes were the purest green Sam had ever seen.

"Frodo and Linwe are both from the Took line," said Merry "but neither one of them has green eyes."

"I didn’t say that the fairy blood was what caused what ever it is that has gone on. I just said that what ever has happened is believable to the Tooks."

"Would you stop!" cried Sam "There has to be a reasonable explanation for this."

"Really Sam, after all that you went through with Frodo, I would think you would be more open minded," chided Pippin.

"It is because of all that I saw Frodo go through that I don’t want to believe it!" Sam burst out, his face showing his deep felt anguish. "The thought of Linwe being here and going through so much suffering is terrible. She lost her parents while we were gone, that was bad enough. There has to be another reason for those marks, she could not have been through what you are suggesting. It’s nonsense."

Rosie reached out and took Sam’s hand, "It isn’t nonsense," She said quietly, "its true." Rosie took a deep breath and went on, "One day last March, Linwe and I were coming home from doing the marketing. Linwe suddenly got dizzy and pale, then she grabbed the back of her neck and cried out in pain and started to collapse. I tried to get her to stop and sit down but she got frantic she said Frodo was hurting and insisted on getting home. When we got to the house she went straight to Frodo’s room, he was lying on the bed, apparently unaware of his surroundings. Sam, Linwe knew he was hurting when we were not yet home. She felt his pain."

Tears spilled down Sam’s cheeks, "Frodo suffered so much, now you are all saying that Linwe went through that suffering as well. It is too much."

Merry wiped tears from his own eyes, "We don’t know how much she saw or felt, Sam. We don’t really know much of anything. Maybe all Linwe knows is what she was told, that she was sick."

"They must know about the scars," said Rosie, "They are husband and wife, and rather affectionate, should I say? They had to have seen the scars."

The room was silent for several moments, the only sound was the crackling of the fire. "What are we to do?" Pippin asked quietly.

"I think we need to have a talk with them and get some answers." Said Merry.

"We can’t do that," said Rosie, "as concerned as we are this really is not any of our business."

"How can you say that?" retorted Merry.

"Very easily, because it is the truth. This is a private matter between Frodo and Linwe, and however much they know, they have obviously decided not to share it with us. We have to respect their silence."

"Rosie, if Sam, Pippin, and I, respected Frodo’s silence whenever it was obvious that he was hiding something from us, Frodo would have died, alone, on the road to Bree, and all of Middle Earth would be under a cloud of evil so vile as to make the occupation look like a Lithe Day picnic."

"I understand that, but do you honestly think that Frodo and Linwe are hiding something that threatens all of Middle Earth? You have seen them. They are a happy and settled couple. Their only plans for the future are to have a family. They are not going anywhere, and they are in no danger."

"I’m sorry, Rosie, but I cannot settle for that. Yesterday I would have agreed with you. Yesterday I believed that all of their pain was in the past and they only had a peaceful future ahead of them. All of that changed this morning when, I was given the news that Linwe had nearly froze to death and that she was gravely ill. We are all aware how badly Linwe has wanted a baby and no sooner than we get here, the news is Linwe has miscarried the child she likely did not even know she was carrying. Pardon me if in the wake of all that, I find it difficult to just calmly accept that every pain Frodo felt on the quest was visited on Linwe as well. I promised them, we all promised them, that we would serve them if ever they were in need. We can not do that if we do not know what the need is."

"Merry, you just told Sam a few minutes ago that we couldn’t be sure of what has happened and how much either of them know," protested Rosie

"You said yourself that surely they know about the scars," retorted Merry

"And so they likely do, but that does not say that they are in anyway knowing what they mean. We don’t know, if Linwe felt any pain. And even if she did we do not know if she remembers."

"They know. Frodo knows." Pippin’s quiet voice cut through Merry and Rosie’s arguing. Pippin’s voice trembled as he continued, "Earlier, when Frodo collapsed, I heard him say ‘Isn’t it enough that she bears my wounds too?’."