Chapter Thirty-seven

"There, another gown is finished." Linwe said with satisfaction. Rosie looked up from where she sat working on her own sewing. "You out do yourself with each garment, dear. With the fine embroidery you have been doing, this will be the best dressed baby in the Shire."

"It is nothing less than my niece deserves."

"What will you do if you should get a nephew?"

"Then he deserves to be dressed well too. However that really is of no concern because you are having a girl."

Rosie chuckled. It was a continual game played in their home. Linwe always asserted that the baby would be a girl while Sam was just as confident that the baby would be a boy. Rosie rested her hand on her round belly, "I suppose in a few weeks we will know which of you was right." Rosie paused for a moment, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she scrutinized her friend. Being careful to keep her voice light and casual she said, "I am sure that in a couple months time you and Frodo will start this all over again as you debate over what the next little Baggins will be."

Linwe said nothing.

Rosie carefully scrutinized her friends profile, it was blank, almost as though Linwe had stopped feeling, or had been turned to stone like one of old Bilbo’s trolls. "You are not going to talk about it, are you?" Linwe’s silence continued. "Linwe, this isn’t good for you. I’ve not heard you utter a word about the miscarriage since the day you learned of your loss."

Still Linwe said nothing. She kept her eye firmly on her hands and the small gown they held.

"Linwe, you can not continue pretending that it never happened."

"I’m not," Linwe said very quietly.

"What was that, dear? I couldn’t quite understand you."

"I said, that I am not pretending." Linwe’s voice was tight.

"Then why do you never speak of it?" urged Rosie.

Rosie’s question was only met with more silence from Linwe. But as Rosie watched she could see the evidence of Linwe’s inner battle of emotions showing itself on her face. "Linwe, you can not keep holding it in like this. You will just make yourself sick again. Please talk to me. I am so worried about you. We all are."

Linwe took several deep shaky breaths. "I am afraid to talk about it. I am afraid it will hurt more," Linwe looked up at Rosie with tear filled eyes, "It hurts so much now. If I speak of it, surely it will just make it hurt that much worse." Linwe put her hands to her face as she started to cry.

"Oh Dearest," Rosie got up awkwardly from her chair, "Come with me. Let’s sit on the couch, you can put your head on my shoulder cry all you want to and tell me everything."

Once settled on the couch nothing was said, Rosie just handed Linwe a handkerchief then let her cry until her tears were spent. After the sobbing had subsided and Linwe’s breathing was a little more even, Rosie spoke again. "Are you ready to talk now? I know you are afraid to but I really do believe it will make you feel better, not worse."

Linwe sniffed, "I don’t know what to say."

"Tell me how you feel at this very moment."

"Sad. Very sad, and empty, like I will never be happy again."

"Have you felt like this all of the time the last few weeks? Have you felt even the slightest bit happy?"

"I have. Once in a while, I am able to forget it ever happened. But it is only for a moment, then I will remember."

"Does my condition ever bother you? Does it hurt to have me here?"

"Sometimes," Linwe admitted reluctantly, "but mostly I am glad you are here." Linwe put her hand on Rosie’s swollen tummy then rubbed it. "You do remind me of what I have lost. Sometimes just being in the same room as you makes me so angry, that I will want to tell you to leave. I will leave myself then. I will go for a walk or go hide with my herbs. Most of the time I am grateful you are here. I can hardly wait until your baby is born. Being a doting auntie to yours is better than having no baby at all."

"Linwe, you will have a baby of your own. You need to allow yourself a little bit more time to heal from your miscarriage, but before the spring is out you could be blessed again."

Linwe sighed, "Perhaps, but Rosie, it took so long to conceive the first one. Will have to wait as long for the next?"

"Dearest, would it matter if you did? If I could tell you with all certainty that you would have to wait as long as you did the first time, or even longer, what would you do? Would you decide that you did not want a baby after all? Would you stop sharing intimacies with your husband?"

Linwe blushed, "Well, no, of course not."

"Then why fret over something you are not willing or able to do anything about? The best thing you can do to keep from having such a long wait, is to just not fret over it so much. Just keep enjoying those special moments you have with Frodo for what they are, beautiful expressions of the love you share. If you are blessed with the conception of another child, during one of those moments, then it will have just made that particular event sweeter."

Linwe impulsively threw her arms around Rosie in a strong loving hug, "You always make me feel better, it makes me wish I had confided in you earlier. I love you so much, did you know that?"

Rosie chuckled as she returned Linwe’s hug, "Yes dear, I have long suspected as much." Rosie pulled back to look at her friend and sighed, "Now, Frodo is very worried about you. I think he could manage better if you spent all of each day crying on his shoulder, than have you continue to keep this silence. He looks as though he isn’t getting hardly any sleep at night."

Linwe’s expression became sad once more, "Frodo has more troubling him than this."

Linwe’s comment immediately reminded Rosie of the discovery of Frodo and Linwe’s matching scars. Rosie had been strongly opposed to demanding answers from her friends, but she had always been hopeful that an opportunity would present itself for one of them to finally share their secrets. Maybe this was just that opportunity. Rosie held Linwe a little tighter, "What else could Frodo have to worry about?"

Linwe said nothing.

"Linwe Taralom Baggins, please remember the vows that were made on your wedding day. If you and Frodo are hurting you have a responsibility to share it with those who love you best. Remember we are supposed to share times of sorrow as well as joy. Now what else could possibly be troubling Frodo?"

Linwe snuggled closer to Rosie, then closed her eyes as though she meant to go to sleep there. "It isn’t really all that much I suppose," Linwe said with a sigh, "It is the nightmares. I know Sam has nightmares about the quest. I once asked Merry and Pippin and they both admitted that they do too. Since they all do. I keep trying to tell myself that Frodo’s are not anything to worry all that much about."

"But you are worried all the same. Are you aware of any particular reason that you might be concerned about Frodo’s dreams beyond the fact that it is Frodo having them?"

"Well, yes. It just seems he is having more of them than ever before, every night he has them. Sometimes he is awakened by them more than once. There are nights he doesn’t go to sleep at all because he knows the dreams are waiting and he just can’t bear them. Is Sam having more of the dreams?"

"Yes, I think he is having them more often. I can’t say that it has been enough to make me more than mildly worried. Maybe you should talk with Sam, Merry and Pippin about it. If Merry and Pippin are like Sam, then they do not like talking about it much, but since it is you asking out of concern for Frodo, then all of them might be more forthcoming."

"I really hate to have to bring it up with them when none of them care to talk about it."

"I understand, but the same rule that applies to you applies to them too. If they would talk about it a bit more then they would likely feel better for it. It has taken a lot of coaxing on my part to get Sam to talk to me about the dreams and what happened on the quest. Sam has even admitted that sharing has helped, but there are still so many things that I know he has not told me."

"Again, you are right. Perhaps I will talk with the others."

~~~~~

Frodo woke up from a night of endless nightmares with a deep sense of foreboding and an awareness of the date on the calendar. It was going to happen again. He could feel it, but this time it would be worse than it was the year before. "Please not again." He said whispered to himself.

"Frodo?" Linwe’s voice sounded sleepy. He felt her hand settle itself on her chest, he put his own hand on top of hers. "Frodo, what is the matter?" Frodo turned his head and looked at her, his eyes were dark and stormy. Linwe looked into them for several long moments then shivered. "It is happening again."

"It is."

Linwe sat up, "What can I do?" she asked in a calm voice.

"Go tell Sam and Rosie I am not feeling well, tell them I fear making them sick so I am staying in our room today. Keep them away, I don’t want them to know."

Linwe did as Frodo asked. She made her excuses to Sam and Rosie. She smiled and assured them that Frodo was not really all that sick but merely wishing to be cautious for Rosie’s and the baby’s sake. Through out the day, Linwe made appearances in the kitchen to further insure that Sam and Rosie did not discover that Frodo was once again suffering on the anniversary of his wounding by Shelob.

~~~~~

Frodo sat at the desk in his study, Bilbo’s large red book before him. Carefully in his own neat hand he worked to get down his account of the quest for the ring. Three days had passed since he had fallen ill on the March anniversary. In one way the anniversary had gone better than the year before. This year he had been expecting it. He had watched the day approach. He said nothing to Linwe until the morning of, when it was obvious it would be bad again. And it was bad. It was worse than the previous year, just as the second anniversary of Weathertop had been worse than the first. Frodo woke up on the morning of the fourteenth; the previous day’s suffering a cloudy memory. He woke up and knew that certain truths had to be faced, decisions made, plans laid out. Frodo spent the next couple of days in his study. He assured Linwe he was fine, just tired from the episode. He knew she did not believe him. Linwe knew better. Frodo also knew that for the time being she would say nothing. Linwe would keep her silence as they both had for the last several months, acting as though there was nothing wrong, that the dreams were not getting worse, that the darkness was not getting more difficult for both of them to live with. Frodo stayed in his study. He worked on writing his part of the tale as well as sort out his plans for his and Linwe’s future. On the third day he was ready to talk to her so he asked her to come to his study when she was done cleaning up from breakfast.

Linwe came into the study with a bright smile on her face, "Rosie’s brother Tom was just here. He said that they will be finishing the spring planting in the next day or so and then they will be ready to get right to digging out the new addition on Sam and Rosie’s wing of the hole. He also said that he and his crew will be ready to go to work on our tree house by the end of April so he would like to start discussing final plans for that with us. Frodo said nothing. He carefully placed his quill in its stand and closed the book. Linwe’s smile disappeared in the face of Frodo’s silence. "Frodo, what is the matter?"

Frodo took a deep breath to try to steady himself, ‘Why must I have to do this?’ he asked himself. "Linwe, we need to talk."

"About what?" Linwe could feel a sinking feeling within herself.

"About the tree house. About our future…"

"You’re going to leave me," interrupted Linwe, "You’ve decided to go with the Elves. I can’t believe it. You’ve made this choice without even telling me you were considering it. How could you?"

Frodo hurried to Linwe to take her into his arms. As soon as he touched her she started to shake with sobbing. "Linwe, I am sorry. You are right. I should have at least told you that I was considering it. But, Linwe, my love, can you honestly tell me that you were not aware that this was becoming a stronger possibility?"

"It doesn’t have to be this way. We can manage. We have been doing just that. I know how to care for you when it is at it’s worst. We were happy last summer, you were happy. It was not till that day last October that things started getting worse. Maybe as we go into spring it will be better again. We’ve not been talking about it, Frodo, but I have been thinking of it. I just wanted to wait to talk about it when spring was truly here. I wanted to see if it made you feel better as I hoped. Maybe it is only in the fall and winter that it will really hurt. We can find a better way to take care of you. I will talk to Merenwen. We can take you to Rivendell or Lothlorien. We can spend the winters in one of those places if we must."

"Linwe, the Elves are leaving."

"Not all of them. Merenwen told me so. She has given some thought to staying behind as well. Your friend Legolas is staying. They will help you. They owe you." Linwe was becoming more frantic by the minute."

"No, they have helped all they can," Frodo said with some force, "Besides you are not strong enough for such journeys."

"I am too!" protested Linwe.

"Maybe you are, but I am not."

"Then we will only go once, we will go to live with the Elves that will remain. You would be well enough with them."

"Linwe, think about it. If that were true wouldn’t they have told me so a long time ago? Instead of going west with them they would have offered me a place here."

"But…"

"Linwe, I have to go. There is still so much darkness locked inside of me. It is getting harder to bear, you know it is."

"You will be all right, we will find a way."

"Linwe, I’m dying!"

Linwe jerked as though Frodo had just struck her with his hand. "As much as I would like to stay here, even if it was only so that I could die with you near me, I can’t. You feel far too much of what is happening to me, I fear that if I die, then you will die too. I would rather go with the Elves, and know that you were safe and alive."

Linwe held him tightly, hearing and feeling the truth of his words, slowly letting it all sink in. She did not want him to die. She knew she would rather see him leave with the Elves to live in some form of peace than to stay here to die in torment. "When will you go?" she whispered at last.

"I am going to get a message to Lord Elrond to see when he plans to leave. Next autumn I will either set out to meet him at the Gray Havens, or I will go to Rivendell to wait with Bilbo until it is time for us all to go and meet the ship."

Linwe cried out in renewed anguish, "Why? Why must you leave so soon? Especially if you must go to Rivendell to wait! Why should you wait there? Why not here, with me?"

"Because it isn’t safe. Last October I attacked you. I came to my senses before I could hurt you but next time we may not be so fortunate. The next time I could come to my senses only to find that I have badly hurt you, or worse killed you."

Linwe’s legs buckled beneath her, Frodo held her tight then eased them both down until they were sitting on the floor. Linwe kept her ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beat. She knew that what he said was true. She listened to the beating of his heart knowing that all too soon she would never be able to do so again.