Notes: Written in response to a prompt: Character 1 cooks breakfast for Character 4, which gave me Frodo and Rosie. I loved the idea, and it turned into something much more.

Set on March 26, SR 1420.

A Morning in March

Rose woke on the morning of March the twenty-sixth to the soft cries of newborn Elanor and the warm smell of baking tea cakes and sizzling mushrooms and herbs. She felt Sam shift beside her, rising and dropping a kiss on her brow.

'I'll get her,' he murmured, going to Elanor's crib and lifting her in his arms.

Rose watched him with warm fondness, but with surprise too, for she could still smell the scents of baking and hear the sizzle of the frying pan from the kitchen.

But now Sam came back to the bed, Elanor held small and restless close to his chest, and he was humming brightly and tunelessly. Rose laughed, sitting up gingerly in bed and reaching for her hungry daughter.

Sam handed her over with a warm smile, then he sat again behind her on the bed, and Rose with a sigh leaned back against him, closing her eyes as she fed Elanor. The soft sounds of Sam's singing fell over them, and she drifted warm and content on a sea of early morning light.

Suddenly there came a knocking at the door, and presently Frodo's head appeared, peeking round the frame. His face was etched with lines of pain and weariness, but his eyes were bright and he was smiling.

'Good morning, Gamgees,' he said.

'Come in, Mr. Frodo,' Rose said. 'It's a bright morning and the whole world feels like singing, if you understand me.'

'I do,' said Frodo quietly, and as he came in they saw that he bore a laden tray in his arms. On it were new loaves with butter and yellow cream, and a dish of last year's apples cooked in honey, and fresh cheese and a great steaming bowl of mushrooms. There was also a pot of rich smelling tea.

'And here is breakfast to celebrate!' said Frodo. And he set the tray on the table by the bed.

Sam sat up with a start. 'You didn't have to, Mr. Frodo,' he began, but Frodo only laughed.

'I wanted to,' he said. 'The two of you have worked hard enough, I think, and Rose's work yesterday was the hardest.' He smiled again, and Rose saw that it lit his whole face.

'It smells wonderful,' she said, meeting his eyes, and an understanding passed between them. 'Thank you.'

Elanor had now finished her own breakfast and was making soft, contented bubbling sounds. Rose waited a moment, watching Frodo, and then with a clever twist of her mouth, she held Elanor out to him.

'Will you hold her a moment, Mr. Frodo?' she asked with a grin. 'It would be a shame to let all this go cold.'

For a moment Frodo looked startled, but then he reached out hesitantly, and Rose laughed with delight and handed Elanor over. Sam watched them with a smile, and Rose felt quite pleased with herself indeed.

The food did smell good, but neither Rose nor Sam began eating yet. Instead they watched Frodo as he held Elanor carefully and looked down into her soft smiling face. There was wonder in his eyes, and a quiet joy, such as Sam had not seen in many days. Gently he brought his hand up to stroke her brow, and they saw that it was the right hand, and through the gap between the middle and last fingers light was shining.

Rose turned and looked at Sam, and she saw that tears shone in his eyes, but he was smiling.

'She likes you, Mr. Frodo,' he said. 'I reckon she knows it was you who named her.'

'Maybe,' said Frodo. But Rose saw that his eyes now were very far away, though he smiled still.

'She will be wise,' he murmured softly, as though to himself, but Rose heard, and she remembered it for long afterward. 'And fair. And maybe there will live in her some memory of the things that are gone.'

Rose looked at him, startled, and then turned quickly to Sam, but he seemed unmindful, watching Elanor and laughing as she burbled loudly and beamed up at Frodo.

And Frodo too laughed, coming back to himself at the sound. 'And happy,' he finished, brushing his hand once more over Elanor's brow. 'She will be very happy.'

'Well,' said Rose, watching him now with a new understanding, and a sorrow that was yet blessed and not unhappy. 'That's all we could wish.' And she smiled at Frodo, and reached for the tray and the pot of tea.