Author's Note: Not much to say on this one. Take it as it is. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Kudos to Master Tolkien!

Life's Lessons

By LadyJea

Lily Cotton hummed to herself as she washed the last of the dishes from afternoon tea. Now she would have to begin preparation for dinner. It was times like this that she missed Rosie, only married just two months now, no longer there every day to smile and joke and help with the massive amount of cooking required for a farming family of seven—no, only six now. Perhaps Tom—her oldest— would marry soon, and there would be someone to keep her company during the day, when her husband and sons were busy in the fields.

With the final plate returned to the cupboard, Lily reached for her large mixing bowl, but was interrupted by a knock on the kitchen door. On the step stood Rosie, arms crossed, looking down at her feet with a tear-streaked face.

"Rosie!" Lily uttered in shock. Her daughter lifted her head and then searched nervously for signs of her brothers or her father.

"Can I come in before they see me? I don't want them goin' off their heads and beating on Sam or anything…" her voice trailed off before she could choke on her words. Tears threatened to spill from her brown eyes.

"Oh dear. You've had a row, then," Lily gently pressed her daughter back, stepped out of the smial, and closed the door behind them.

"It was awful!" Rosie wailed. "And it's all my fault! I said things I shouldn't of, and we yelled and I swore I never would, and—"

"Calm yourself, dear. Walk with me," Lily put an arm around Rosie and turned her away from the smial, checking for sight of her husband or sons. Rosie's fears of them going after Sam for 'causing Rosie to cry' were not unfounded.

"But—" Rosie stopped and turned back toward the kitchen door. "I thought we could go in and…talk, and maybe have a cup of tea or…" her voice trailed again. Lily took her hand and led her around the smial to the dirt path leading to the road.

"I remember the first time I had a fight with your father. I was absolutely convinced that it was over and that I had ruined eveything! And I did just what you're doing now. I ran home to my mother, because I knew that she loved me and I was certain she could fix everything." Rosie looked at her mother, relieved. Perhaps now she could go back into that familiar kitchen and have a nice cup of tea, just until she felt better. But her mother did not stop speaking. "She refused to let me in," Lily continued as though she spoke of the weather or the chickens, not the fate of her daughter's marriage. "She turned me out the door and told me to grow up and go home."

Rosie stopped walking. "Mama," she began, not quite so relieved any longer. Lily put a finger to her lips to quiet her.

"She told me later that turning me away like that was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. She said the look on my face when she turned her back and shut the door on me near broke her heart. But she had to do it. And it taught me a very important lesson, Rosie. A lesson that I now must teach to you." Lily took Rosie's face between her hands. "You don't live here anymore, Rosie. I love you, but you're married. You can't run away from Sam, you have to face him no matter what. It's time to grow up," she paused. "Go home, Rose Gamgee." Dropping her hands, Lily turned away and went back to her home, leaving her daughter alone on the road.

Rosie was still standing there when Lily peered out of the front-room window to watch her. She waited, holding her breath. Several heartbeats stretched into an eternity, and then Rosie turned and walked slowly back down the path, back to her husband and her own home. Lily released her breath slowly and sank into a nearby chair to have a good cry, pondering—as only a mother can—why life's most important lessons were always the most painful as well.