Lament for a Requiem Chapter 2
Merry came back to find Pippin sitting quietly next to a sleeping Frodo. "He's fallen asleep again," Pippin whispered. "Did you find Sam?"
"They were locked in their room. Not arguing, or at least not saying anything very loudly, so presumably they're, um…"
"Having a reconciliation," supplied Pippin, winking.
Merry reddened. He turned away and realigned a chair, and sat down. "Look, Frodo's waking up again—or not."
Frodo was "or not", indeed; he was trying to rise from the bed, huge blue eyes staring at nothing.
"Sleepwalking," Pippin said. He planted a hand on Frodo's chest and tried to push him back down. "Stay in b—"
The reaction was instantaneous. Frodo's vacuous expression changed to a monstrous snarl and he snapped at Pippin's hand. Pippin yipped and recoiled, snatching back his hand. There was a mad light in Frodo's white-rimmed eyes as he tried to jump after him.
"Eeee! He tried to bite me!"
Merry leaped up and grabbed Frodo around the waist, pinning his arms. "Ai! Now I see what Sam's been putting up with." Merry toppled onto the bed and took Frodo down with him. "Help me with him," Merry said, "keep him down while I get out from under."
Pippin hesitated a moment, then took Frodo by the arms. This time Frodo did not fight. "Note to self: never yank Frodo's chain." Pippin eyed the while jewel around Frodo's neck. "'Cause he forgets what's on the end of it. Or what's not."
Merry got up and pulled Frodo's covers back up over him. "Aren't people supposed to leave sleepwalkers alone?"
"Sure, just let him walk about where he can run into stray fists."
"Hmm. I guess you're right, Pippin, we should try to keep him in his room. This is going to be a long night. You take first watch."
It was morning. Sunshine streamed through Sam's window and sparkled on the honey curls of Rosie's hair, next to him on the pillow. He loved her, and he knew she loved him. She even preferred him to the glorious Frodo. But it was going to be long time before he felt all was right with the world. Just like the silver mallorn sapling in the party field was a wonder to behold, but was going to take years growing before it would make a proper party tree. Sam sighed and climbed out of bed. Well, trees and marriages didn't bloom overnight, and in the meantime there was work to do.
Sam decided to make some toast and sausages for breakfast. He got down his second favorite pan. His first favorite was in a fissure on the plain of Gorgoroth. He built up the fire, and sliced the bread. Would two loaves do? Better make it three, just in case Frodo's appetite returned, and after all the two guests were exceptionally tall hobbits and would put away a lot.
The whole world was quiet this early in the morning, even the wind wasn't blowing yet. There was an illusion of peace. For a moment he wished this quiet space of time would go on forever; then he put the thought away as unworthy. All his favorite hobbits in the whole world were asleep in this hole right now—well, except for his gaffer--, and though he did not know how he was going to fix things between himself and Frodo, nothing was going to get solved by avoiding everybody.
He put the kettle on for breakfast tea, and set out butter and blackberry jam, and a jar of honey. Before long the scent of the sizzling sausages roused the sleeping hobbits. Rosie strode into the kitchen in her white dress and her new spring green bodice—her old grey one was too small now, after the baby—and started setting the table. She smiled at Sam, and he smiled back. Perhaps it wasn't quite happily ever after, but it would do.
Merry wandered in next, from the direction of Frodo's room. He had clearly slept in his clothes. Sam had seen Merry rub his eyes just like that so many times on the journey. It was odd to see the gesture here, in Bag End.
"Morning, Sam," said Merry blearily.
"Morning, Mr. Merry."
Merry took in the table arrangements Rosie was making, and said, "Never mind the fancy dishes, Rosie, we're turn and turn about, so we won't be out at the same time. One of us will come for a tray for Frodo when he wakes up."
Merry picked up a plate and started serving himself from the pan while it was still on the stove, causing Rosie to flit about making little hand motions and disapproving noises. "Mr. Merry, please, sit down and let us serve you, 'tain't proper, the future Master of Buckland serving hisself in the kitchen."
Merry grinned. "I remember when Sam used to say such things. Such sentiments don't survive long on the road. I assure you, just having a roof over my head is luxury enough, even after all this time."
"Still," Sam said, "won't you sit down?"
"I will, but this plate is for Pippin. I'll be back for mine in a moment." Merry slathered some butter on the toast, then put the place setting on the plate and went back to Frodo's room.
"Oh, dear," Sam muttered, seeing where he had gone, "I do believe Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin slept on the floor in Frodo's room. There are plenty of spare rooms."
Merry came back out in a minute and allowed Sam and Rosie to wait on him, but insisted that they then sit down with him and have their breakfast too. Sam thought nothing of it, but Rosie looked uncomfortable all through the meal. She was not used to such familiarity.
Merry noticed, and saw an opportunity for a bit of fun. "Don't let it bother you, Rosie, Sam's sat down with kings. In fact, Sam's sat on the King's throne, along with Frodo. And everybody cheered and sang."
Sam blushed, but he looked sidelong at Rosie to see if she was impressed. She was also looking sideways at him, and the two of them shared a little smile. It took Sam back to when they were courting, in the days after the scouring of the Shire. The days when he was helping to clean up Bag End, and Frodo was living at the Cottons'. That must have been when Frodo heard Rosie talk about him when she thought he was sleeping, Sam thought. He hid his sudden seriousness behind a teacup.
Despite Merry's insistence on treating Sam as an equal at the table, he had no problem with walking off back to Frodo's room after eating and leaving the clearing up for Rosie and Sam. Rosie put the butter, jam, and honey in the cupboard while Sam went to draw water. He returned with a full pail and the two of them worked on the plates and pan.
"What's to come of us, Sam?" Rosie asked.
"What do you mean?"
Rosie gestured around at the smial. "Are we staying?"
"'Course we're staying," said Sam. "This is our hole now, too, well anyway it will be."
"I know we've made a home of it," Rosie said, "but I never mentioned any of this before because I was afraid it would spoil things."
"What, you mean you think I'd leave Frodo? Seek another position?"
Rosie shrugged. "There are lots of rich folks with gardens that I have no history with."
"Put that thought right out of your head," said Sam. "Frodo's a lot more than an employer to me, Rosie. He needs taking care of, and I mean to do it."
"But what if he doesn't want you to stay?"
"Not want me to? Frodo needs me."
Rosie nodded. "This is all so awkward. I thought you had stopped courting me because you were no longer interested. I was just looking for a bit of a romp, that night, and it turned into this. This, mess."
"'That night'?" Sam quoted.
"Yes, Sam, it was just one night," Rosie sighed. "Not that I didn't think about more, but it was just a moonbeam fantasy, like thinking about riding off to fairyland on a unicorn. I admit I did fancy living in Bag End. That part came true. With you. And so it turned out even better. Fairyland without you is just a lot o' moonshine."
"Aw, Rosie." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
A clatter alerted them that they were no longer alone. Pippin was bringing back his plate. "Frodo's awake. I'll bring him some of that toast, and some tea."
"I'll bring it," Sam said. "I want to talk to him." Sam arranged a tray and followed Pippin back to Frodo's room. Inside, he made to settle the tray on Frodo's lap, but Merry took the tray from him and served Frodo himself, blocking Sam from getting too close.
Frodo realized what Merry was doing, and chided, "Merry, I don't need to be protected from Sam."
"The knot on your noggin tells another story," said Merry. "Now eat your toast."
Frodo obediently bit into a piece of bread and jam. Sam tried to think of something to say, and fidgeted with his hands.
"I'm sorry, Sam," said Frodo. "I should have come clean before we left the Shire, and then you wouldn't've had this nasty surprise. But I wasn't sure if we were coming back. Or, if I was coming back. I mean, I didn't see any reason to hurt you with this knowledge, knowing how the thought of Rosie kept you going, if we were just going to die anyway. And after we left, I didn't think about it much. I'm afraid I haven't thought about much of anything, except my own problems, recently."
Sam shifted awkwardly. "Those're enough to keep anyone busy with thinking. And I'm sorry too. I wish you didn't have those problems. I wish I'd done better at keeping you safe."
"Sam, no one could have helped me better. My dear Sam."
"Um, how are you feeling, Mr. Frodo?"
"Well, Sam, it appears that I'll live. And since that's so, I suppose I ought to make sure this kind of thing doesn't sneak up on any more of my friendships. I should make a clean breast of everything, get all the awkwardness over with at the same time." Frodo cast an appraising look at Pippin.
Pippin caught the look. "A, Frodo, if you're about to confess to sleeping with my sister…"
Merry gripped Pippin's arm, as if afraid he was going to have to protect Frodo from him, too.
"I already know," Pippin finished. He pulled his arm out of Merry's grasp. "Pearl boasts about her conquests."
Merry was surprised into a snort of laughter, quickly suppressed.
"'Conquests'?!" Frodo quoted.
Pippin held up a hand. "Her word, Frodo. Because you're not so easy to get, you see. I'm afraid most of the lasses think of you that way. Most of the ones that gossip with my older sisters where I can hear them, anyway."
"Pip, you little spy," Merry said admiringly. "What do they say about me, then?"
"Who, Pearl? Not you too!"
"Gad, Pip, we're first cousins! Their gossipy friends, nitwit!"
"Oh, well, there's…"
Frodo cleared his throat. "I believe I have the floor, gentlehobbits."
"No, you have the bed," said Pippin. "We have the floor." He pointed to a nest of pillows and blankets he had pulled out of the linen closet last night.
Frodo smiled despite the seriousness of the situation.
"You smiled!" Pippin exclaimed. "Thank you, thank you, and for my next conjuration…" He bowed like a stage performer.
"I see my outbreak of honesty is years too late in this case," said Frodo. "Sorry, Pippin."
"Don't be. She's not."
"While everybody's saying they're sorry," Sam put in. "Um, me too." Sam looked down as the three cousins turned to look at him. "For knocking you down. I didn't mean to."
"I know, Sam." Frodo held out a hand, on the side of the bed away from Merry and Pippin. Sam went to Frodo and took his hand, and Frodo covered their clasped hands with his other hand. Then he closed his eyes and sank back against the cushions. He drifted into a half asleep state. He looked peaceful. Fragile, and too thin, and still flushed with fever, but peaceful.
"Now wait a moment," Merry said in a hushed voice, so as not to wake Frodo. "Just say you didn't mean it and everything's alright? I don't know about that. Next you'll be saying he fell."
"He did fall."
"After you hit him."
"Yes."
"I'm going to be watching you, Samwise," Merry warned.
Without opening his eyes, Frodo said weakly, "Sam wouldn't hurt me."
"He already did."
"But don't you see—I know what it is to be pushed past all endurance. Everybody's got their breaking spot in a different place. Sam's is over Rosie. At least his is a person, not a damned piece of jewelry." Frodo coughed, and made a sound in his throat that was disconcertingly Gollum-like. He let go of Sam's hand to finger the white gem lying against his chest. "Lost…" Frodo fell asleep.
Sam sighed, and patted Frodo's hand. He picked up the mostly still full tray of food and left the room. "That's a tree what's going to need some feeding afore it'll flower again," Sam commented to himself. "Patience, that's what."
He set down the tray in the kitchen and went out into the garden. He looked about for a task to do, something to putter around with to stay out of Merry and Pippin's way while they looked after Frodo. His master's cousins meant well, but they would return to their home at Crickhollow soon enough, and in after years, one was destined to rule Brandy Hall, the other, the Great Smials. But Sam would always be here, at Bag End, to do for Mr. Frodo. He had patience enough to last a lifetime.
Sam's gaze rose to the party field. The mallorn tree was blooming.
