Chapter Eleven:
The Birthday Party
Though it did not have the glory the Hobbiton folk remembered of old Bilbo's 111st birthday party, Frodo's 50th birthday party still retained quite a glimmer of delight and amusement among both the young and old. Gandalf the Grey appeared again, to the delight of all, after a prolonged absence, armed once again with magnificent fireworks and tales to tell. Food and drink of all kind and special gifts were abundant and everyone found themselves having a marvelous time.
Everyone, that is, except Rosie, who outwardly seemed to enjoy the evening, but inwardly was a nervous wreak. Lotho's evil 'either-or' was still running through her mind, and she considered everyone before her in light of his news. Her state of mind was further destroyed by seeing Lotho arrive, and begin to talk with the Gaffer and her brother Tom. She immediately headed over to hear what he had to say.
"Are you acquainted with the Golden Elanor, Mr. Gamgee? It seems you of all people, so well known, might have an idea of who he might be."
"No, I daresay," chortled old Hamfast. "Nobody knows! Quite an odd occurrence, I can tell you! The whole place is in an uproar."
Lotho bowed to Rosie as she walked over. "But perhaps the women have an idea of who he could be?"
Rosie simply smiled in defiance. "No, my good sir. But we would all willing die for him; we count him so very heroic and powerful. We tremble for him when he is in danger, and we exalt with him in the hour of his victory."
A simple laugh caused the party to turn, to see Sam walking by with a pint in hand and a smile on his face. "And I'm afraid we husbands must stand by and watch while our wives worship a shadow."
Chapter Twelve:
The Scrap of Parchment
But that was only the beginning of Sam's amusements for the evening. Following in the grand tradition of Mr. Bilbo, Sam composed a poem for the evening, 'in honor of Lotho', he claimed:
"We seek him here, we seek him there.
Those Uruks seek him everywhere.
Is he in the Shire - or perhaps Valinor?
That demned, elusive Elanor?"
The hobbits were delighted: good company, good food, and a witty rhyme to pass the evening. Rosie, however, was not amused by her husband's banal pastime and left him in order to find the dancing. A short while into the evening, she caught sight of the appearance of Merry and Pippin, still slightly bruised but the not worse for wear, considering the serious thrashing they had received. To Rosie's amusement, Pippin made straight for Diamond, with whom he spent a considerable time thereafter conversing with in a quiet corner.
As she passed from partner to partner on the dancing floor, her thoughts began to wonder about the identity of this stranger, this hero which had become a demi-god in her mind. A burning curiosity and desire to know his identity began to surge through her, and not just for the safety of Nibs. She began to feel that she must know who – wait...
Nearly causing a crash in the dance, Rosie froze and watched. Diamond had left to talk to someone else in the crowd, and Pippin stood by the Party Tree, alone and rather listless looking. Yet this was not what caught her eye. Rather, what struck her eye was Frodo walking past Pippin, brushing up against him, and sneakily dropping a piece of paper into Pippin's hand, which Pippin immediately hid within the breastpocket of his coat. Having accomplished this, Pippin then turned and headed for a small, out of the way table with no one else around, where he sat down and began to read it.
Rosie excused herself from the dance with all the grace she could muster. There was no turning back. All thoughts of that brave heroic were gone from her mind: all she could think of was her dear brother, locked up in some horrific prison somewhere, begging her to help him. She made her way, oh so carefully!, over to Pippin and flopped down onto a chair beside the table.
"Oh, I feel a bit faint!"
Pippin, ever the gentlehobbit, carefully helped her down and inquired if he could fetch anything for her. She declined; she merely needed to sit a moment and rest. Closing her eyes and holding her head seemed enough to calm Pippin's nerves, and he sat back down to his note. Rosie, however, kept a corner of her eye on this young hobbit and, when he placed the corner of the note in the burning candle sitting upon the table, she saw her brother's chance for life going up in flames.
"Oh, how clever of you, Pippin!" she exclaimed, grabbing the paper from his hands, blowing out the flame, and fanning it before her face. "Mother always taught me that the smell of burning parchment could cure fatigue."
Pippin obviously had had no such idea, and looked quite nervous at the idea of having the paper out of his hands. However, decorum dictated that he could not simply snatch it away again, and he simply sat and watched carefully that the paper should not leave his sight. Rosie began to grow nervous by his constant watchfulness, but no more nervous than he. He remembered the stories of her betrayal, and remembered that a friend to the Uruks was present at the party. Therefore, it was only by the merest of chances – Gandalf happening to shoot of a firecracker that seemed to cause quite an uproar – that Rosie managed to seize the chance of gazing upon its contents. She managed to catch only a short phrase before Pippin's eyes turned back, and when they did she placed the paper once more upon the flame.
"For shame, Master Peregrin," she teased gently, "you should know better than to exchange love notes. And you should know better than to read them in public. Imagine, if I hadn't been such a good friend and refused to snoop, I might've seen the sweet nothings you wished my good friend to read."
Pippin's heart lifted as he watched the paper go up in flames and believed the contents to be safe. Unfortunately, only one of his beliefs was true.
Chapter Thirteen:
Either – Or?
Rosie returned to the dance floor, the few words she had read now emblazed upon her mind. "Plan falling into place. Wait for my signal…" Those words seemed unimportant and the initial flames had destroyed the next few words, but the last words of the letter began to run over and over again in her mind. "If you need to talk to me, I shall be in the Bag End library at one o'clock precisely." The note had been passed by Frodo Baggins, but was he the Elanor, or merely a carrier? And what, or rather who, would the library hold at one o'clock?
Once again, her mind began to deliberate over her options. Could she truly condemn this wonderful man to almost certain torment and death? But could she condemn Nibs to the same fate? If the Elanor was captured, would the Uruks leave or would they simply stand unopposed? Only a few hours remained before one o'clock, when her one remaining hold on her brother's life would vanish. Occasionally she saw Lotho across the crowd, and she would shudder at the idea of giving him this information. But occasionally she would also see her brothers across the floor, and tears would rise to her eyes. Memories came – both of the happier days with her younger brother, but also of the joy and gratitude expressed by Diamond upon being rescued.
Rosie felt she would go mad, and perhaps would have if dinner was not announced, and the Gaffer arrived to escort her to the tables.
Chapter Fourteen:
One O'clock Precisely!
Dinner proved quite entertaining for everyone else. Rosie seemed to be quite a charm, Sam to be amusing in a rather brainless sort of way, and Frodo had returned from Rivendell for the first time in quite awhile, and entertained all with his stories of the queer ways of the Elves and Bilbo's poems. Food and drink was abundant and laughter was more so. Nothing of any importance was discussed, and Rosie had to work hard to keep from screaming at the overall triviality of it all. Not twenty minutes into the meal, she excused herself from her seat, made eye contact with Lotho, and walked towards the darker corners of the field, unlit by the fires and torches. She had made up her mind. Her brother was her main concern. The mysterious stranger – well – Rosie only hoped that, as he had eluded capture so many times in the past, he would do so again. After all, she was not giving Lotho a name, merely a location.
She started when she saw the Gaffer sitting there, quietly enjoying the soft wind and the distant noise of the party. Fearing him seeing her alone with Lotho, she smiled and took his arm as she sank into the seat next to him.
"Dear father, could I ask a great favor of you?"
"Certainly, my dear," he said, placing down his pipe and smiling lovingly at his daughter-in-law.
"I'm feeling rather tired, and I believe I shall be heading home soon. Would you let Sam know? I don't want him looking for me after I've gone."
"Of course, my dear," he said, creakingly getting up from his chair and tottering off after the party. She watched him go, wishing she could follow and leave the grim task she had as of yet still before her undone.
"You have news for me?" Lotho asked, having snuck up behind her, his voice triumphant. She sighed.
"Yes," she said, her voice barely audible. "I do not know who he is, but I know he will be in the library at one o'clock." A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched Lotho's face light up in a sickly joy. "Please – what will you do?"
"That depends," Lotho said, grinning malevolently, "on who I shall find in the library at one o'clock."
"What if you find more than one somebody?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter. It will still narrow it down. Other papers I found on Peregrin and Meriadoc list several places the traitors are wont to stay. When I find who the Elanor is, I will track him as far as these places; he will lead me to their latest capture. When that has happened…" Lotho rubbed his hands together in delight.
"And Nibs?" Rosie added in alarm, as Lotho stood to reenter the party. He stopped, considered it, and turned back to her.
"If the Elanor is caught, I shall hold true to my bargain and will try to save your brother's life." He bowed and left Rosie alone in the shadows.
His mind turned to other matters as he started up the hill towards Bag End. He smiled devilishly; she had given him the information he needed and the Elanor was nearly in his grasp. And, all this, without the slightest hope of reward! His latest journey to Isengard had shown him the wizard in a foul temper. The White Hand had captured many hobbits from Bywater, questioning them all under great torment about the location of the Ring. Once he was certain they knew nothing, he would send them to Mordor, claiming to have captured them for the Dark Lord. Yet the Eye was not so foolish: before the White Hand had a chance to question Nibs, a Wraith had arrived to steal the important cargo away to Cirith Ungol, awaiting questioning by the Dark Lord. Rosie's brother, therefore, was out of his hands. Yet, the capture of the Elanor would not go completely unrewarded: he, certainly, would receive much thanks from the White Hand, especially as the wizard seemed quite convinced that whoever this nuisance was also held the Ruling Ring; find him, and they would find the Ring. The White Hand would take over Middle-Earth, and the ruling of the Shire had been quite neatly promised to him. Lotho rubbed his hands; yes, the plan was coming together and would fall into place so neatly and effortlessly. 'Twas a pity about poor Rosie, but such was the ways of the world, after all.
The green door opened with a creak, and Lotho cautiously crept his way through the house. Past the coat hooks lining the walls; one, two three doors down to the left, Lotho peeped through the door and found what he was looking for. Bilbo's old study, complete with walls lined with books and desks covered with papers, he had found the room with about twenty minutes to spare. He was surprised to find a fire roaring in the fireplace ("Though why not if a meeting is planned?" he thought to himself) and was doubly surprised to hear the sound of snoring behind him. After jumping at the noise, he turned to find Sam Gamgee spread out on a couch, a blanket wrapped around his feet, snoring away the party spirits. Lotho smiled and took his advice, settled down on another couch, put his feet up, and waited.
Chapter Fifteen:
Doubt
Rosie sat in the darkness still, unable to return to the party and pretend to be gay and carefree. Her thoughts went to the library of Bag End, willing the mysterious stranger to not show up, and yet hoping beyond hope that he would. Lotho's terrible 'either-or' still hung in her mind: soon, she would have the blood of some sweet soul upon her hands – either her brother or her hero.
She was so lost in thought, she didn't hear Hamfast return, and jumped when he spoke.
"You must've thought I'd forgotten about you!" he puffed, settling down in the chair with a sigh of relief. "But I had quite the time trying to track down that ninnyhammer son of mine. And seems he was quite tired too; he was snuggled up in Bilbo's library, dead asleep. But I let him know."
Hamfast pulled his pipe back out of his pocket, and sighed contentedly with it. Rosie, however, turned her thoughts elsewhere.
"Did you see the time while you were in there, father?"
"Yes, it is a little after one, my dear."
Her heart rose. "And was there anyone else in the room?"
"No…" he puffed on the pipe, then added, "Nay, there was! That little pimple of a creature, Lotho S-B was in the corner sleeping, too. Seems it's quite the place for naps of that kind."
"No one else?"
"No, my dear. Why?"
Rosie jumped from her chair and started an ascent of the hill towards Bag End. The dear old Gaffer must've thought all her senses were gone, but seemed content to let her leave. Rosie's thoughts went wild. Had the Elanor evaded Lotho? Had his plan failed? What then would become of Nibs? She had tried her hardest, she had spied and had betrayed him, surely that was worth something, even if Lotho had not been able to capture him.
On her way up the hill, she ran quite literally into Lotho himself, so lost in thought they both were. She grabbed him by his waistcoat.
"Lotho, what has happened?"
"What do you mean, fair lady?"
She nearly growled in rage. "You know perfectly well what I mean! Have you caught the Elanor? Who was in the library?"
"The Elanor, my dear lady," he said, with an evil grin. "He did appear. However, your brother's life still hangs on a thread. I suggest you pray that the thread will not snap."
"But I worked for you!" she cried aloud. "I did what you asked! What will happen to Nibs?"
"You must be patient. When the Elanor is safely in my hands, and on his way to his justice, then I will do what I can for your brother."
He began to walk away down the hill, leaving her stupefied and frightened, and quite alone. Seeing him fading into the shadows, she called after him, "Lotho! Give me some hope!"
He disappeared, his low voice springing from within the shadows, mingling with them, "Pray that the thread will not snap." And he was gone.
Chapter Sixteen:
Number Three, Bagshot Row
Rosie no longer wanted to think. Thinking had gotten her into this mess – allowing her mind to create reasons why she should betray such a wonderful man, allowing her mind to remember Nibs. And thinking only made what she had done more heartbreaking. She simply became numb to the world and allowed her feet to take her wherever they wanted: indeed, if they had chosen to make her walk into the sea and never return, she wouldn't have objected. It was what she felt she deserved. But her feet merely led her home, down the hill towards Bagshot Row. As she was approaching the house, she saw a figure on ahead of her in the moonlight: Sam.
He didn't see her, and for a moment she simply watched him walk on ahead. From a distance in the moonlight, his eyes didn't look quite so silly, his walk more pronounced and purposeful. For a moment, her scorn and hatred left her, and she pitied him. Truly he was not to blame for being born so simple and plain. And, after all, didn't she deserve to be hated?
A pain shot through her heart. Yes, she had not meant to tell Lotho of the hidden hobbits, and she certainly hadn't realized that such an offense would have them arrested. In that affair she had been innocent, and his scorn of her had not been deserved. Yet she had just committed cold-blooded murder by purposefully seeking out the identity of the Elanor and supplying that information to a man who wished only his destruction. Truly Sam's scorn and simple, unknowing hatred of her was now justified.
Suddenly filled with despair, she rushed forward into the night, reaching the garden in front of their house as he opened their door.
"Sam," she called out, her voice causing a visible tremble to go through him. He turned back to her, his face sad and actually rather serious looking in the moonlight.
"Rose?"
She paused, unsure of how to continue, yet she knew she would not let this go by another minute.
"Would you… would you walk with me for awhile? The garden looks so lovely in the moonlight."
Sam paused as well, the silence filling the gulf between them with a heavy tension.
"Well… bless me, but I doubt you'd find me good company, if you take my meaning."
"Please, Sam. Could we not walk together and perhaps remember the happy days?"
"I'm afraid it might not be a good idea to go walking down into the past. Like the Gaffer always would say…"
"Forget the Gaffer, Sam!" Rosie exclaimed, stepping forward to stand beside her husband on their doorstep, her red curls nearly aflame in the light of the moon. "Walk with me?"
Taking a deep breath, Sam finally nodded and the two turned to walk down Bagshot Row, neither looking at the other, neither speaking.
"Sam, is it possible for love to die?" Her frank question caused Sam to falter, and he slowed his steps. She turned back to look at him, and was quite surprised to see his brow furrowed in thought and his eyes avoiding hers. Realizing that she had, for the first time in years, struck him to the heart, she stepped in front of him and tried to meet his gaze. "You said once that your life was mine, that nothing could stop you from loving me. Yet here you are avoiding me, wearing a mask to hide your true feelings from me."
"Why do you need my love?" he retorted back, his voice thin and quiet. "You spurned it once, after I had offered it so fully as you profess. You kicked me away, as I remember."
"Sam…"
He turned away and began walking quickly, as though to dispel the anger pent up inside of him. "Just hours after we were married, the entire Burrows family was taken away to some untimely end…"
"I told you that I was responsible!" she interrupted, near tears. He turned to her with a murderous calm, his eyes intent and focused now.
"Yes, after I had heard the news from strangers. After I had watched my master hear the news that his cousins had been taken away. And after all this, had the strength to tell me without caring a word for what you were saying."
"That's not true," she cried back, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face her. "I didn't tell you the whole story then because I knew you wouldn't listen. Sam, listen now. Years ago, Nibs, my dear sweet Nibs, fell in love with Myrtle Burrow. Her brothers, however, refused to allow him even to speak with her, being that he was merely a farmer's son. When he managed to send her a love note, they hunted him down and beat him." Her tears were flowing freely down her face now, and she made no attempt to hold them back. "They left him for dead in a ditch somewhere; I nearly lost him. Then, all those years later, I heard from a friend that the Burrows were hiding some hobbits condemned to be arrested in their home. I, stupidly, mentioned it to Lotho. I didn't know he was friends with the Uruks and I didn't know he would tell them. I didn't know until the deed had been done, no sooner than you. And then I realized what a fool I had been, and I needed you, Sam. I needed you."
Sam's eyes now were brimming with tears, though he still tried to hold them back. He set his jaw firmly, however, and turned his eyes away.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Rose. I… I wish I had known…" He paused, trying to get a hold on his emotions once again. Unable to do so, he turned his eyes to the heavens and exclaimed to her, "But why didn't you tell me this before? I asked you for an explanation, and you refused. I wanted to believe you were innocent, that I knew you well enough to believe you had nothing to do with this, but all you told me was that if I loved you, I wouldn't need an explanation."
Rosie turned away in frustration. "Oh Sam, don't you see? I was young, I was stupid, and I was scared. I needed someone who would support me and would help me through it. I was scared of losing you, and I wanted to believe that you would love me blindly through everything. But you didn't." Her voice lowered as she studied the face of the man she had loved. "You turned from me. You hid behind a… a mask of carelessness, and all your love died."
They both fell silent, turned away from the other. It was at long last that Rosie spoke, her voice low and quiet with sadness.
"I came to you tonight, because I need your help."
"I am yours to command."
Rose turned away and placed her hands on the nearby fence for support. Taking a deep breath, she spoke. "It's Nibs, Sam. He was a part of the league of the Elanor, and he was stupid and foolish and got himself arrested by those creatures in Bywater. For all I know, he's being tortured right now." She burst into tears, her body shaking with the relentless sobs. If she had been able to watch the scene, she would've seen Sam race to her side, his arms outstretched, stopping a few paces away and forcibly willing himself not to take her in his arms.
"What would you have me do?" he asked, his voice cracking.
"Could you not ask someone to help – Gandalf, Elrond, someone? You have so many powerful friends, I feel certain…"
Sam's head bowed, and he slowly, and somewhat clumsily, took her hand in his.
"You have my word, Rose, no harm will come to your brother if I can in any way stop it."
Although she otherwise would've laughed at this gesture – after all, what could he do to help? – Rosie felt strangely at peace and her tears lessened. She even managed a gentle smile as Sam carefully raised her hand to his lips, bestowing upon it a gentle kiss.
"Thank you," she whispered gently. He simply looked away as the light of the dawn began to creep over the hills.
"No, don't thank me," he said, a gentle blush rising in his cheeks. "As the Gaffer would say, all's well as ends better, and nothing's ended yet."
Rosie's smile disappeared. With the light of day, the passion she thought she had seen in him, the rousing of his heart, she realized it had all been an illusion under the light of the moon. He was no more serious now than he ever was, and her confession to him made no more difference than if she had remained silent. Bitterly, she carefully walked by him back to the house. At the doorstep, she turned back to look, but saw only the foolish, childish boy wandering up among the flowers. She turned with a sigh and entered the house, closing the door behind her as she headed to bed.
Had she but looked out the window before retiring, however, she would've seen a sight that would've put her heartbreak and inner torment to shame. Outside the warm walls of Number Three, Samwise Gamgee collapsed to the ground, tears welling in his eyes, and gently kissed the steps where her feet had trodden.
Chapter Seventeen:
Farewell
As Rosie crawled beneath the quilts, her mind, strangely enough, abandoned all its prior concerns and heartbreaks; Nibs was far from her mind, as was the Elanor she had just condemned. Rather, her mind was only conscious of a dull and aching pain in her heart. Could she truly have fallen in love with a fool? Or, just as paradoxical as that thought, could she have fallen in love with him, just as his love was dying for her? In any case, she fell into a dreamless, restless sleep, where she was vaguely conscious of trying to find Sam, of trying to understand what was going on.
When she finally awoke, she noticed a faint light streaming through the window. Dawn had arrived, but only moments before, and it was still far too early for the world to arise. However, she felt something was wrong and, reaching her arms out, she realized that Sam was missing and a small piece of parchment was left on his pillow. She snatched it up violently and raced across the floor to the window, attempting to read the words by the faint light of the sky.
"Rosie-lass ~ The Gaffer always would say it's the journey that's not started as what takes the longest to finish, so I've set out to have a talking to with Elrond and Gandalf and all them wiser folk to see what I can do. You've given me a job to do, so to speak, and I intend to see it through to the end. ~ Sam"
While reading over the simple words, she became aware of a pony's whinny outside the window, and looked up to see Sam saddling Bill for the aforementioned journey. Forgetting that she was clad only in her nightgown, she raced outside in the hopes of seeing him before he departed, if only to bid him farewell.
"Sam!" she called at the door, forcing him to rein Bill to a halt that she could reach his side.
"Rosie?"
Upon reaching his side, however, she found she had no words. The morning sun was creeping over the hill and Sam seemed eager to be away. Pausing a moment, she finally contented herself to say, "You are leaving?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
"You will not be in any danger?"
He smiled softly. "Am I ever in any danger?"
She smiled back; surely if anyone was likely to get into peril, Sam was the least. Both fell silent once again, as she tried desperately to divine his thoughts and tried vainly to put her own into words. Finally, she simply took his hand in her own.
"Will you accept my thanks for doing this?"
Sam gave her a sweet, lopsided grin. "I haven't done anything yet! And it's not like I'm off to do some heroic stuff. Don't worry your little head about thanking me."
"Very well," she said, running his hand along her face. He turned away, closing his eyes to hide the emotion behind them. "I… guess I should let you go then."
Sam nodded, and gave Bill a giddy-up. As he galloped down the road, she frantically called after him, "Sam!" He turned at the end of the row, looking back in alarm. "Come home soon," she called after him. Smiling, he bowed his head and wheeled away to the east.
Chapter Eighteen:
The Mysterious Flower
Tired, yet strangely content, Rosie returned to bed and sleep peacefully for several hours more. Although her mind had much to brood over, and her mind put little hope in Sam's simple offer of help, she felt serene and calm, as though it would all work out in the end.
With the sun now shining her warm face at the world, Rosie awoke and began to go about the business of keeping house. In times of worry and doubt, sometimes the greatest balm to the soul is the familiar, even if it be as trivial as housework. After fixing herself a cup of tea, she took some water to the garden, carefully watering the plants that Sam usually tended with such love and care. After that, she took the broom from the wall and began her tour of the house.
After sweeping through the kitchen and the bedrooms, she paused and realized that she had unconsciously passed by Sam's study. This perhaps was not so odd, as she always did so. In the previous days, the contradiction of terms in the title "Sam's study" earned her scorn, and she resolved never to set foot within the room, for fear of growing more aggravated with Sam's foolishness and, most likely, messiness. Yet now her curiosity was peaked: if anything would give her an insight into her husband's mind, would not it come from the place where he studied?
She backtracked her steps, leaving the broom against the wall, and stood before the door to this unseen room. A strange feeling of foreboding flooded through her as she reached for the doorknob and slowly began to turn it. She must have suddenly suffered from her husband's dull wits, for it took her several minutes to understand why the door wasn't opening.
Locked! She stared at the door in utter amazement. Sam – the one far too simple to even keep a secret – had a locked room in their very house? Frustrated, but now more curious than ever, she raced for the ring of keys he kept by the front door and raced back, spending countless minutes trying to unlock the door with shaking hands. Finally, one went into the hole and turned correctly, opening the door with a violent creak that made her jump.
Eru only knows what she expected to find in the room. Her expectations of Sam called for mess and disorder; her foreboding spirit called for dead bodies or treasure troves. But neither was fulfilled. The room sat in an orderly fashion, a few general notes on gardening sitting on his desk, a few books carefully stacked on the shelves, and a few maps rolled and placed around the room. (She found this somewhat confusing at first, but explained away their presence easily; after all, Mr. Bilbo had been an avid fan of maps, and since he had passed onto Sam his love of poems, why should he not also pass on his love of maps?)
Somewhat disheartened by this lack of discovery, she turned to leave the room. It was only when she was placing the key in the door to lock it again that the curious item sitting upon the desk caught her mind. She threw the door back open and raced to the desk to make certain that she had not imagined it. But no, it was there. Sitting upon his desk, potted gently and obviously well cared for, was a golden elanor.
Chapter Nineteen:
The Golden Elanor
At what moment the insane thought first struck her mind, it was hard to say. Suffice to say that, having ascertained the existence of the flower and its rightful identity, she walked from the room in a daze, locking the door behind her and turning her steps to the kitchen to make herself another cup of tea.
But, bah! What a thought! Why shouldn't a gardener keep a flower in his study? And, moreover, why shouldn't a man so enraptured with the Elves keep an elvish flower? It was utter lunacy, and she had convinced herself of such by her second cup of tea, at which time she heard a rap at the door and a gentle, "Hullo!" as it opened.
She stood to her feet and smiled as she greeted her older, but dear friend Eglantine Took and bid her come in for a cup of tea.
"My dear child, I don't mean to take your from your chores, but today is my day for calling on people, and I thought to myself: I haven't seen that dear Rosie lass for so long!"
Rosie smiled. "And I'm glad you've come. Sam left this morning, so I was afraid I'd be lonely all day."
Eglantine simply stared in amazement. "Sam's gone, too? Well, he must be part of their 'great plan'," she said with a chuckle as she blew on her tea. Rosie turned sharply.
"Plan? What plan?"
Eglantine smiled. "Oh, my dear Pippin's up to something. Mr. Merry came over bright and early this morning; said something about how their boss had shown up and said he was leaving this very morning and they had to start the plan early." Eglantine squinted her eyes, trying to remember all that she had overheard. "Oh," she started, "Fancy my remembering and telling it to you!" she laughed. "The last thing they said was something about how the boss was worried about your brother, and had some job he had to do."
The blow had fallen. She had managed to delude herself most of the morning, but now she knew. Poor Eglantine continued to prattle on for some time about her son running off and leaving her, 'all in a fuss and a bluster as though it was the end of the world, or some such thing', but Rosie was not listening. Rather her thoughts turned to her husband's hidden emotions, the "job" he had to do, and the small golden flower sitting in his study.
"My dear, are you alright?" Eglantine's shrill voice asked, catching Rosie and bringing her back to the realization that she had dropped her teacup right onto her feet.
"I'm sorry, Eglantine," she said, rising to her feet and racing to the door. "I'm afraid I have forgotten something quite important I was to do today. You will excuse me, I hope?"
Eglantine, seeing the worry in her young friend's eyes, quickly stood to her feet and walked Rosie to the door, helping the young lass into her cloak.
"Of course, my dear. I only hope it's nothing too urgent?"
"Unfortunately it is. I must be off."
"Very well," she said, taking her own cloak and heading out the door with Rosie. She kissed her friend goodbye, and watched as Rosie raced off down Bagshot Row, headed in quite a hurry for Hill Lane.
Her thoughts were frantic and scattered – was her husband truly the Elanor? Had he been hiding his feelings all along behind the same mask with which he hid his cunning and strength? And – good Eru – she stopped in her tracks. Lotho. He told her the Elanor had shown up, but the only person the Gaffer had seen in the library was Sam and that pimply-creature. Did Lotho know, then? Had she condemned her very husband to death?
At this very moment, he was headed out to save her brother. Obviously, they had concocted some scheme which was now being put into early works, perhaps before they were ready. And all the while Lotho followed close behind, armed with the knowledge of where he would go. Both follies were committed by her own hands, so she steeled herself against the knowledge of them. What had been done was done, and now she must right her wrongs. She would follow her husband wherever his path took him and try to warn him; she didn't know what good she could prove, but she would die before she allowed any further hurt to come to this brave man whom she now fully understood her love for.
But she could not go alone: Lotho knew where Sam was going, but she did not. And, for this very purpose, she raced up Hill Lane, bound for Bag End and some explanations.
Chapter Twenty:
The Friend
Moments later, she burst through the door, and hurried inside to find Frodo Baggins settled in front of the fire, perusing documents in a rather frantic and worried fashion. He looked up, startled to see her standing before him and began to set the papers aside.
"Rosie! Are you ill?"
"No, Frodo, but I beg you: we have little time to talk, so I will be brief. Your leader and comrade, the Golden Elanor – my husband Sam Gamgee – is at this moment in deadly peril."
Had she retained any last doubts about her suspicions, they would have been destroyed upon seeing the frightened look on Frodo's face. He shoved the papers into a drawer, as though they had somehow confessed this fact to her, and he stood to his feet.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Sam - the Elanor? Rosie, dear, sit down – you're obviously ill…"
"No, Frodo. I know as well as you do that it's true and thank the heavens that I have found out, though I pray I have not stumbled upon this fact too late. Please, sit and listen to what I have to say. When Merry and Pippin were waylaid at Bree, papers were found on them that spoke of a plan – to do what, I don't know – but a plan nonetheless. It also gave information on hiding places crucial to the plan. Lotho found these, and last night discovered that Samwise and the Elanor are one and the same, and is now following Sam. If he finds him and captures him…" she trailed off, unable to finish her own terrible thoughts.
Frodo collapsed into a chair, burying his head in his hands. She knelt beside him, worried.
"Do you believe me, Frodo?"
He looked up slowly, and met her eyes. "Just tell me one thing, Rosie. How did Lotho find out that Sam is the Elanor?"
Rosie bit her lip. "I told him. He holds my brother captured… he promised me that if I could find the Elanor for him, he would have Nibs set free – and how could I know that I would be condemning Sam?"
Frodo stood and paced around the room.
"Please, Frodo, tell me it is not too late. We must help him, warn him somehow! If he is caught, Lotho will arrest him, take him away from me, perhaps kill him."
Frodo laughed bitterly, and turned back to her with haunted eyes. "Sit down, Rosie. You don't know the half of it." Rosie did as she was told, but a terrible fear crept into her heart as Frodo sat beside her, his eyes wild with fear.
"Have you ever heard Gandalf tell the stories of the olden days? Of Sauron and the Rings of Power?" Rosie nodded hesitantly, wondering how this related. Frodo continued. "After Bilbo left, he gave me his Ring. Gandalf discovered it was, in fact, Sauron's Ring. We none of us had any idea what to do with it, but decided it was best to keep it hidden in the Shire while we devised a plan. I was gone too much, visiting Bilbo, so I left it in Sam's keeping, knowing him to be a wise and cautious man." He paused, looking over Rosie's frightened face. "You married no fool, Rosie, know that now and always believe it.
"A while later, we heard from Gandalf that the head of his order had betrayed them, and now had his eyes fixed on the Shire. Sam kept the Ring hidden, disguising his intelligence behind the simplicity and foolishness that most everyone associates him with. But all the while we have been plotting how to destroy this Ring; how to get it into Mordor, the one place it can be destroyed. Meanwhile, Sam has been smuggling people out of Bywater, and we have been devoted to him and his noble quest. Unfortunately, we heard word from Gandalf last night that your brother is no longer in the keeping of Saruman. He has been moved to the tower of Cirith Ungol, on the very edge of Mordor, awaiting torture by the Dark Lord. Sam was quite worried about him, and this morning left without a word, saying he had to devise a new plan, as our old one would take months before it would be ready. Aragorn and Gandalf need more time to assemble the armies that would challenge Sauron at the Black Gate as a diversionary tactic, and it depended on discovering the dates when the Orcs would leave Mordor. But he apparently felt he could not wait any longer to rescue your brother, nor to keep the Ring hidden, and has fled this very morning for Mordor."
Rosie's heart fell. "You mean to tell me then that my husband is heading into Mordor, carrying the Ring of Power, with nothing to divert the attention of Sauron and with the power of Isengard following him close behind, knowing who he is and where he will attempt to hide?"
Frodo dropped his head into his hands again, and Rosie's heart rose into her throat. For a moment, her head swam and she felt she would faint; but only for a moment. In the next, she rose to her feet and stood before Frodo.
"Then my road is decided. I will follow him into Mordor, into death itself, in the tiniest of hopes that I may be able to warn him, or at least to give my life for him."
"Rosie, no!" Frodo exclaimed. "Truly yes, I must go to try to warn him, but the road will be too dangerous. I cannot let you go."
"Frodo," she replied through gritted teeth. "I will go whether you lead me there or not. I have betrayed the man I love to his death, and I will not sit at home idly, hoping it will all turn out for good."
"Very well. Go home, pack warm clothes and some food. We will start immediately."