VIV. A Crown of Roses
The month of April drew to a close just as the wedding day came. The party field was set up with tents and tables, ready to be stuffed with hobbits and food. The mallorn tree that Sam planted was blooming gold flowers, and had become the marvel of Hobbiton. Frodo and Pippin had set up the altar under the young tree, and Gandalf smiled broadly as he stood behind it, wearing his white robes. He looked both wise and proud. The guests were filing into the long bench seats set up on opposite sides of the altar: the right being that of Sam's relatives and friends, and the left side being that of Rosie's family and friends. It was evenly balanced. About fifty hobbits sat on each side.
The sun rose to a nine o'clock position, and the violets in the grass emitted their soft scent as some of Hobbiton's most talented musicians picked up their lutes, lyres, and flutes and played a gentle tune to quiet the guests. Samwise Gamgee, nervous though he was, walked with a sense of pride down the aisle in his shining white finery. His head was crowned with symbolic flora, as was tradition: he wore fern, symbolic of the Magic of this event, with forsythia, whose early golden blooms preceded its leaves and stood for Anticipation, and the early green leaves of strawberry, that signified his Fame. Sam was then followed by the old gaffer, Hamfast Gamgee, dressed to the nines, who was beaming from old ear to old ear, despite the fact that tears were in his eyes. Then came Frodo, Sam's best man, wearing soft blue and white, his eyes sparkling. Then followed Merry and Pippin, also in blues. Pippin carried the Rosie's ring. They settled nervously next to the white-washed podium from which Gandalf would conduct the ceremony. Sam let out a shaky breath, and Frodo came to his side and said softly, "Nervous now? Doubtful? You won't need to be once you see her."
It was then that all eyes turned to the end of the aisle, where Rosie stood in her flowing dress, her crown of white roses and blue forget-me-nots which stood for True Love, and early honeysuckle, signifying Bliss. Mr. Cotton was on her arm, and proudly beamed at the crowd, though he knew in his heart how hard it would be to give her away. Mrs. Cotton followed behind, her eyes misty and her hands clasped. A line of Rosie's friends then followed: Angelica Took, who wore her most extravagant pink dress (being Frodo's vainest cousin), the clumsily tall Iris Took with soft doe eyes, Estella Bolger, sweetly smiling with apple blossoms in her hair, and then Poppy Took (though she had originally declined being a bridesmaid, considering it a role for only the dearest friends of the bride), looking timid but beautiful in a soft pink dress. Then Nellie Boffin, a shy child whom Rosie treated as a little sister, came behind and scattered white rose petals until they group reached the side of the altar opposite that of Sam and his friends.
Gandalf greeted those gathered, then said, "This is a significant ceremony that concerns all hobbits, for not only does the beauty of this wedding show that the Shire's land is healing, but that the hearts of its people are recovering as well. It makes me glad every time that Love has a victory over Hate, and Good over Evil.-- This is definitely a victory for Love. And through this Love, Goodness will follow, for through these two young lovers there may be many more generations of fine and courageous hobbits! Let us bless this union!"
The crowd clapped and cheered (for hobbit weddings are not formal, and are celebrations rather than ceremonies), and then quieted when Gandalf motioned for Rose and Samwise to join hands. Rosie placed her hand in Sam's with a blush and a smile.
Gandalf turned to Sam and asked him the most important question of his life:
"Will you have her, Samwise, to be your wedded wife?"
"Yes, I will," said Sam. "And I will love her all my life."
Gandalf smiled and turned to Rosie; he queried her likewise:
"And will you have him, Rose, to be your loving husband?"
"Yes," said Rosie softly, "And I shall love him to the end."
And so, from the reciting of ancient vows, Rosie Cotton became Rosie Gamgee and received the ring that Sam had bought with hope so long ago when she had first stolen his heart, and the union was sealed with a tender kiss. A cheer rose from the crowd.
The feast afterward lasted long into the afternoon, filled with various toasts and speeches given by the members of the Fellowship. All of them gave the best wishes of love, prosperity, and goodwill towards the young couple (and although Pippin's speech was rather humorous and was received with much laughter, it was none the less sincere). At the head of the table, Frodo recounted to Rosie and her parents the story of Sam's incredible brave actions in the Dark Tower, and Rosie's eyes shone with pride and awe as she looked at her husband. Sam blushed under her gaze and insisted that Frodo was exaggerating his heroics in the story.
"Oh no, I'm not!" Frodo objected, then he turned to Rosie and said, " I'm probably underplaying his part, if anything. I can't say anything about that rescue that would even come close to doing it justice. Rose, you've got the best hobbit in the world for a husband-Baggin's Truth-I think you should know that."
"I already do, Frodo," said Rose. She gave Sam a loving look. "And I'll never forget it."
The sun began its slow descent, and it was time for some of the more traditional wedding games to be played: the children danced around the maypole as the bachelor and maiden friends of the bride and groom gathered around for the "Crowning."
Hamfast Gamgee began to give directions to the old game, "Here's whatcha got to do: Ladies, quit yer giggling and line up un'er yonder apple tree. Fellas, all a' you quit yer jokin' and teasin' and line up across from the ladies. Double-quick now!"
The hobbits did as they were bade, except for two.
"I don't think I'll play," said Frodo, leaning against the table. "I'm a determined bachelor, like Bilbo. It wouldn't be fair to tie a girl to a strange fellow like me anyways-- traveler as I am. So there's no sense in playing."
"Of course there is!" said Sam, who was currently being blindfolded by Freddy. "You'll get in line because I'm telling you to!"
Frodo laughed, "Fine. I will, for the sake of the groom . . . But if I have to, then so does Poppy!"
Poppy started from her seat, stammering, "Oh, but I don't think I should...I mean, I couldn't. I'm not the marrying sort. I'm--"
"You're going to get in line, is what you're going to do!" said Mrs. Cotton, nudging her.
"I think what she means is that she's already taken," said Frodo. "Has he proposed yet?"
"Who?" said Poppy, obviously puzzled.
"Faysal, of course," asserted Frodo. "Don't pretend you don't care for him."
"Oh, no! You thought that he was..." Poppy exclaimed, then trailed off in laughter. She recovered herself, then said, "I do care for him, but not like that! He's my brother!"
Frodo realized his gaff, and his normally pale skin flushed red in embarrassment.
"Well then, you're not taken, so get in line!" said Mrs. Cotton giving Poppy another nudge. Then she laughed at Frodo's obvious humiliation from his earlier assumption, then gave him a push. "Go on, now!"
X. Playing Games
So the last of the hobbits joined the ranks, and the bride and groom, crowned as they were at the ceremony, were blindfolded and spun around, then faced towards line of friends of their own gender. Sam made a slow, trailing pass over the bachelors, passing Frodo twice (much to Frodo's relief) before finally stopping in front of a hobbit lad. He reached out and blindly patted the strangers curly hair to ascertain where his head was, and then took the crown from his own head and placed it on that of the unknown receiver, the next to be married in the Shire. The bachelors roared with laughter at Sam's selection, and then Frodo uncovered Sam's eyes. Sam laughed in disbelief when he saw whom he had crowned. Grinning broadly before him was Peregrin Took, with the green and gold crown on his head.
Rosie decided to tease the girls in her line a bit more than Sam teased the lads. She paced slowly, blindfolded before them, stopping occasionally in front of a hobbit lass, and patting a few heads of the eager bachelorettes and pretending to remove her crown of roses. She would seem to have finally made a selection, but would then suddenly turn and move to another. This teasing could only last so long, however, before Rosie was finally forced to make her choice by the pleading lasses. She took the flowering crown from atop her golden-curled head and placed it on the marigold-red curls of the shocked Poppy Took. The ladies tittered and congratulated her.
"Who's your sweetheart, dearie?"
"Yes, the lucky fellow! Who is he?"
"I don't know!" she sputtered. "I don't even think I want to be married!"
It was then that the loud singing rose from the male ranks and Pippin, crowned and beaming a smile, was carried on Merry and Freddy's shoulders over to the ladies' group, followed by his noisy peers. "Hullo ladies!" said Pippin. The ladies stopped chattering when they saw that a handsome and strong young bachelor was now crowned, signifying that he was the next in the Shire to be married, and they began to flirt almost simultaneously with Pippin, hoping to be the next bride.
Poppy laughed when she also gained more attention than she had bargained for.
"Pretty lady! Come grace us with your presence!" said Merry, who took her hand led her into the center of the bachelor group.
"Sing something for us!"pleaded Freddy. "Please! Your songs are so pretty!"
Poppy considered for a moment, but when she saw the eager faces, she decided to throw her inhibitions to the wind. She began to sing a silly song in her lovely voice:
"A kitty went to the house
Of a very small mouse
To ask her to be his wife.
She was sweeping the floor
When he came to her door
And played a tune for her on his fife."
The tune was fast catching, and the hobbit lads began to clap, and Poppy picked up her skirt and danced as she sang with bravado:
"The mousie near swooned
To the elegant tune
And asked the cat why he came.
'To ask for your paw,
To take in my claw,
So we may be wed, sweet dame!'
"And the cat sang a song
Of sweet courtship long
And the mousie fell in love,
'Oh how sweetly you sing!
But what of a ring?'
Said the cat, 'Fear not, dearest Love!'"
The group was now clapping loud enough to attract the attention of Pippin, who was flirting with the ladies across the field, and he came over to see the spectacle. He saw what was going on, and he motioned to Edgar Boffin, who knew how to play the melodin. Edgar picked up his bow and accompanied the well-known tune.
"Hied he to his barn
And retrieved his ball-yarn,
And tied a link round her wrist.
'O, say yes, Sweet heart!
To the hill we'll depart!'
She said, 'Yes!' and his whiskers she kissed.
"So they married that eve
Under yonder beech tree,
And neither's family had known.
They danced the whole night
In the sweet silver light
Though the cat and the mouse were alone.
"They danced the whole night
In the sweet silver light
Though the cat and the mouse were alone!
"They bought a nice house,
The cat and his mouse,
And their love, it grew and grew.
The cat laughed with joy
When the house filled with toys
For children who cried 'Squeak' and 'Mew!'"
The song ended in a wave of applause and Poppy, flushed from her dance, gave a gracious curtsy.
"Encore! Encore!" said Pippin, but Poppy waved him off.
"Oh! I couldn't! I need a drink!"she said, and fanned herself with her hand. "Thank you for playing, Mr. Boffin. Do keep the party going while I take a break!"
Edgar Boffin nodded and picked up the melodin again and fiddled a merry tune as Poppy went and sat in the shade of a lilac bush. She breathed in its sweet scent and leaned against its shapely trunk as the lavender flowers hovered over her sylphlike face. It is difficult to describe in a word how she looked at this moment: lovely-- no, exquisite perhaps, for soft and delicate was the beauty that she shared with the blossoms. She reclined in this manner for quite some time, catching her breath.
Presently, she heard soft steps and a voice. "Did someone say they needed a drink?" said Frodo, carrying a glass of cool water and extending it to Poppy.
"Yes, bless you!" said Poppy, and she took it from him and drank gratefully.
"What a show! I daresay you've stolen the heart of every bachelor in the Shire," remarked Frodo.
"That wasn't my intention, but so be it," she said, smiling coyly. She handed the glass back up to Frodo, who placed it in a fork of the sweet-smelling lilac bush with his right hand.
It was then that she noticed for the first time the injury that he had sustained there, for he often kept that hand in his pocket. Her heart wrenched when she saw how badly his hand had been mauled.
"My dear Master Baggins!" said Poppy, "What happened to your hand?"
Frodo shyly put the hand back in his pocket. "It is a result of my own failure, I'm afraid. The finger's been bitten off, but such was the price I had to pay."
"The price? Of what?"
"Of the Shire, and Middle Earth," he said softly. He sat down next to her, but avoided her questioning eyes and studied the clustered lilacs overhead. "As I've said, It's an awfully long story. But you shall hear it, if you would come with us to Minas Tirith after Sam's honeymoon."
"To Minas Tirith! Oh, but Master Baggins! I could never, ever..." Poppy said, but Frodo cut her off.
"Yes, you could. You told Freddy you that wanted to 'get away,' didn't you?-Well, here's your chance!" he said. He looked to the sky, as though he were examining a map in the clouds. "We plan to go first to Rivendell, in the East, and visit Bilbo and the elves, and then we shall go to Lothlórien, if we can, and finally-- go to Gondor to see the King!" Frodo exclaimed, then his blue gaze turned eastward, to lands very far away.
His mind swam with thoughts as he considered his own fate; it was like a river of words, images, and experiences, all running into a pool of decision. He murmured his decision to himself, and so light was his voice that no one but himself knew his words: 'Far safer will this journey be than my last, and my last journey I believe it shall be... I don't know if I'll come back. I have been hurt, too deeply to be cured by any of the healing arts in the Shire... But I mustn't tell Sam this. No, he can't even catch wind of it until we're in Gondor...'
"Master Baggins?" Poppy politely called him from his thoughts.
He turned to her then and said, "I'm sorry. I was drifting again. But will you consider coming with us? We're all quite fond of you, and would very much like for you to come."
"I will consider this, seriously," she said, then stood. "But come! I feel quite refreshed, and the music calls! Dance with me, please, before Freddy decides that he wants me to sing again."
So they descended into the Party Field, and joined the hobbits whirling about on the grass. Sam and Rosie were dancing together: Rosie all blushing, glowing with her joy, and Sam beaming and smiling at her, enthralled with her charms.
XI. A Long Night
The dance lived into the evening until Rosie shyly whispered something to Sam, who turned very red, but nodded enthusiastically nonetheless. He tenderly took her hand, and the two of them then said their good-byes to their guests. Then, with many cheers of goodwill from the crowd, they climbed on the newly-painted wagon, which overflowed with blooming sweet pea flowers. They waved as they disappeared down the hill. It was the beginning of a lifelong journey full of love. This particular part of the journey was soon over when they reached the cottage and Sam wordlessly lifted Rosie from her seat and carried her over the threshold. There was no need for either of them to speak. This night was for the expression of their love with actions instead of words.
After midnight, the party wound down, and many hobbits went home to sleep. Some did not, for many of the married hobbits had felt a renewal of their own love after the dance and the ceremony, and were amorously inclined; these couples nuzzled each other as they went on their way.
Pippin had flirted with various ladies at this party, and did not really wish to see them go. He gallantly kissed their various hands and led the many ladies to their respective families as they went away. There was, among these maidens, a lass with dark brown curls and chocolate eyes whose hand Pippin very reluctantly released. She was Diamond of Longcleeve, and she was full of jokes and tricks. And Pippin, being a trickster, found her undeniably attractive as she laughed and also caused laughter during the party. Now, as he let go of her hand, he was surprised when she suddenly jumped up and kissed him. He blushed deeply, and she laughed, then winked at him before she turned and left.
Yes, love was in the air as April died away that night. Many of the bachelors in the Shire, including Freddy, Merry, and Jay Cotton, had fallen under the spell of Poppy's charms. She had danced with many of them that evening, and she had amazed them all with her loveliness. Now she was quite tired, and she walked slowly with Merry, Gandalf, and Frodo. Gandalf was yawning and he looked quite old and bent as he walked with his staff.
"Every single party," he said, and rubbed his eyes under his bushy brows. "I tell myself, 'Gandalf, you ought to leave early and go to bed. You're too old to party with the little folk into the wee hours of the morning.'- - pardon the pun. But here it is, nearly two in the morning, and I am still awake. I'm going to pay for this tomorrow." He chuckled a bit as they entered the garden gate at Bag End. "I hope you do not mind, Frodo, but I may be too stiff to move from my bed in the morning. I may be a bit late for breakfast...nay...second breakfast."
Frodo opened the door and said, "I think we all should sleep in a bit tomorrow. No sense in getting up with the chickens when we went to bed with the cats."
"Cats indeed!"said Merry, who really hated cats. "Poor little mice; they just want a bite to eat. Can't the little fellows eat without getting nabbed by those awful scratcher-snatchers?"
Poppy laughed. "I like cats, actually. They're such wise creatures. They go to sleep in the best places. The warm and cozy ones, that is," she yawned, and smothered it softly with her hand. "I wouldn't mind a nice catnap right now."
When they finally entered the house, the first to settle in was Gandalf, who looked rather funny in his bed, even though it was a big bed by hobbit standards. His feet stuck out from the covers, and his gentle snoring echoed in his round chamber and could be heard in the hall.
Poppy filled a copper kettle with boiling water and took a bath before heading to bed. She still felt a bit awkward bathing in the bathroom of a home that was not hers, and so she decided to take the metal tub into her borrowed room to bathe in front of the little fireplace. She filled it and relaxed for a while in the soothing warmth before she reached for her bar of soap and scrubbed. When she was done, she dried her long hair with a towel as she stood in her nightgown in front of the fire.
It was then when she heard a knock at her door, and she pulled on her robe and answered it. There was Frodo, who looked a bit nervous and shy standing outside her room. She greeted him warmly, smiling at his boyish awkwardness.
"Hello, Master Baggins. Do come in! Make yourself comfortable; it is your house after all."
Frodo came in and sat in the little chair by the fire. She realized, with some humor, that he looked a bit too long to sit in a hobbit chair, like a child who had outgrown his rocking horse. She sat opposite him on the wicker settee. "Sorry to bother you," he said. "Late as it is, it seems quite trivial, but, I'd like to know if you've made your decision yet to come with us. We'll need to start packing soon."
"Actually, I have made my decision," she stood up and folded her towel over the wire that stretched across the fireplace, then she grabbed her bristled hairbrush from the little shelf by the bed and tapped it against her nails. "I've met so many of your friends, and they're such good people that I love all of them. I'd like to go with you and meet more." She brushed her hair in long, sweeping strokes. Her locks were still moist, and they shone red and orange, reflecting the flickering fire. "I can't help but wonder, though, who will mind your property while we're off in Gondor."
"Already taken care of. Freddy'll be glad to do it."
"And Sam and Rosie?"
"--Will come with us, as sort of an extended honeymoon trip. It will be interesting for Rosie, no doubt. She's never been more than twenty miles from Cotton Farm, and she's never even seen an elf. She's plenty excited about it, too." Frodo smiled, "And of course, you both will get to hear our story: the whole, unabridged version, and meet all of the heroes. Even Stride-umm---King Aragorn."
"Will I really get to meet him, or just see him?"
"Meet him. And probably Queen Evenstar, too."
"Me! Meet royalty! I'd never see that coming," she said and set down her brush. She gathered her hair, which had fallen around her face, and swept it behind her shoulder.
"Well, you'll see it soon enough," Frodo said, rising. "For now, you're probably very tired." He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Goodnight, m'lady."
"Goodnight, Master Baggins,"she returned his smile, and watched him go. She listened for a while after he closed the door. He seemed well-adjusted to the darkness of the hallway, for he moved soundlessly and lit no lights to guide him from her chamber. She gave no more thought to the observation, however, and with skillful fingers she gathered her hair into a thick braid before disrobing and slipping into bed. She listened to the fire crackle and burn down into glowing embers as she drifted off to sleep.
XII. Night Terrors
The dream in itself began as a confusing jumble of images: clouds, light as in summer, then dark with winter and laden with snow. There were swirling winds of dark colors that carried death's whisper. The snow fell, a confusing jumble of white, blinding, bewildering, stinging the cheeks and eyes, the breaths steaming in the air. It was full picture now, of hobbits in the snow in the moonlight, dark little shapes, armed with a variety of antique weapons, rallying each other with brave speeches that Poppy couldn't hear. In the dream, she was back in her warm house in Staddle, watching the hobbits through the window, praying for their safety. Praying for his safety. She heard shouts, then a rallying cry, and the hobbit-men raced off into the snow to the deep banks near the trees. In the darkness of the forest waited huge men, ruffians, half-orcs, and a variety of malicious beings. They rushed the hobbits, jeering and drawing their weapons.
She cringed and leaned into the window, her breath fogging the glass. She hurriedly wiped the condensation away and stared, too scared to blink. The battle raged outside, and the shapes rose and fell in the moonlight. The storm picked up with a howling wind, and soon she couldn't see through the snow and the dark. It seemed like hours went by as she sat by the window, listening. She then turned from the window and paced; fear and doubt heavy in her steps. The clock ticked on the wall. Twenty-eight seconds to the New Year. Twenty-seven, twenty-six... She peeked out the window, and still couldn't see. She wanted to go out, to fight with them, with him, but she swore she wouldn't leave the security of the locked house. Twenty seconds. She heard a cry beyond the hill, a wild and desperate sound howling in the wind under the door. Nineteen. She couldn't stand it any longer. He was in danger. But she promised she would stay inside..but promises can be broken. Fifteen. She grabbed her cloak and a long dagger that hung like a sword over the fireplace. Eight. She slung her cloak around her. Five. She gripped the dagger and put it in the sash of her dress. Four. She drew her hood over her head. Three. She unlocked the door. Two. She took out the heavy bolt. One. She left the house, and the clock clanged with an iron sound, loud in the night. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong....!
There was silence on the field now, no hurrying feet. Then she heard it, the sound of mourning, a low, slow wail. She ran through the snow with the icy air in her lungs and burning her throat. She could see moving figures; many small shapes were returning from the trees. They neared, and she saw that it was the hobbits, and they bore their fallen in their arms. There was Freddy, his face stained with blood, a tigerish smear on his chin. In his big arms was a figure wrapped in a cape-- His red cape, dark maroon in the cold night. She recognized the cape, and her heart wrenched. With a cry, she ran to him. Freddy saw her coming and he wept. "Poppy...Poppy....I'm so sorry..." He knelt to the ground then, the snow was stained red under his knees. Poppy went to him, and took the precious cargo from Freddy's arms. The figure in the bundle was heavy and limp, yet it was lighter than she remembered. She cradled His body, wrapped in the cape, stained a darker crimson with His blood. She was sobbing, sobbing, and looking at the handsome face under the red hood; the once lively face was pale as the snow. Her love had a dagger in his heart, and his life's blood was on his cloak, on Freddy's coat, on her dress, on her arms, and on her hands.
Poppy woke with a wailing sob, the sound of a heart in anguish. She tore violently from her bed and ran to the window and thrust open the curtains. She looked at her hands in the moonlight. She saw nothing: only her own soft skin and her trembling fingers. She sat on the bed and covered her face with her hands. She heard footsteps in the hall, and she saw the light of a candle under her doorframe.
"Poppy! Is everything all right?"
"Are you hurt, Miss?"
"No, I am not hurt," she said, then quietly added, "no more than I have been." She wiped her face and went to the door. She opened it, and saw Merry and Frodo in the hall, a candle lit between them. "Just a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you, Master Brandybuck, Master Baggins."
"Are you sure you're all right? That was quite a sound. Eerie, if I may say so," said Frodo. In truth, he had thought it sounded frighteningly like the wail of a Ringwraith, and he had drawn a weapon upon waking before he realized that the sound came from Poppy's room.
"Can we get something for you? Warm milk perhaps?" offered Merry.
"No, no thank you. I'm fine. I just feel awful that I woke you, it already being a late night and all..." Poppy saw that the faces in the candlelight held much concern. "I suppose that I could read a bit to get back to sleep. Something boring...Maybe some of Bilbo's history translations?"
'Boring indeed!' thought Merry, 'Within those volumes is all of the history behind the Ring!'
"All right, but you'll have to deal with my notes mixed in the pages," said Frodo, who actually liked history.
"That's right; you're writing a book, aren't you?" she said. "May I read what you have so far?"
"It's not very good, or interesting...not yet, anyway...Just history, maps, and the account of Bilbo's last birthday in the Shire," Frodo said with a dismissive tone.
"Haven't you gotten to the exciting parts yet? Like the time when we went to the Barrowdowns---and when we were attacked by Ringwraiths on Weathertop?" Merry was aghast. "Do you remember how Aragorn defeated those awful snufflers? Fire, and lots of it! What a show! I'll never forget it!"
"You'll never forget it, but I was half conscious. All I could see was Sam, Pippin, and ---The Ringwraiths!" he exclaimed, then shivered. "I'll never forget those dead eyes..." he murmured. Frodo's voice trailed off.
"Frodo!" whispered Merry, "I thought you said you wanted to forget them! You won't forget as long as you keep talking about them."
"Sorry, Merry. But you did bring it up, after all."
"Ringwraiths?" Poppy murmured.
"Oh no," Frodo sighed, "I'm not telling you about Ringwraiths while you're already troubled as it is. But here, let's go to the study. There's loads of books there for you to pick from."
Frodo and Merry led her down the hall treading silently, as hobbits are wont to do, until they came to the little oak door that led into the cluttered study. Frodo had set it up as an office in which to organize all-things-wedding, as well as to serve him as a quiet writer's studio. Sheets of discarded parchment were piled in and around the waste bin. Frodo lit the torch on the wall by the bookshelf and poked around the leathern volumes.
He selected a rather small one with beautiful gold inlay on the cover. They formed leaves and flowers that wove in and out of the letters of the title. The letters themselves were sweeping curves and delicate pricks of the Elvish Tengwar. "This is a book about dreams, translated by Bilbo. It's very interesting. Elves believe that dreams hold a certain power to them, and they study their meanings closely....It may be of some help to you."
"Hmm..." Poppy flipped through the book carefully. "But it's an old dream. I've had it for a year now, and I know what it means.." She gave a heavy sigh, then continued, "Because it's more than a dream. It's a reality. An event. I lived it, and I can't let it go..." Poppy's voice faltered and her countenance fell. "And maybe I shouldn't."
Frodo's eyes caught hers, and for a moment, he saw a kinship to the pain in them. He had dealt with the many horrors of his own memory for the past year: the tortures in Mordor, the Eye, the stabbing, freezing pain from the Nazgul blade, and many more terrors. "You should let it go," he whispered softly.
Poppy's eyes misted and her gaze dropped from his. An uncomfortable silence stretched for several heartbeats.
Merry cleared his throat. "Maybe a different book would be better." He moved to the shelf and pulled out a book with a carved wooden cover. "I'm pretty sure that this is all poetry and songs. Good stuff..." He extended the book to her.
She accepted it and held it to her chest. "Thank you," she said, her voice still shaking with emotion.
Merry swayed on his feet a bit uncomfortably and put his hands in the warm pockets of his robe. "Well," he said,"I'd best go to bed. I wish you more pleasant dreams than your last one."
"Good night, Master Brandybuck. I'm sorry I woke you," Poppy said softly.
Merry smiled, "Please, Poppy, you don't have to be so formal. I'm Merry....just plain ol' Merry," he said, then slipped into the hall.
"Merry's not used to being called by a formal name," said Frodo, shaking his head. "He should be, though; he's the heir of Brandy Hall, and they'll all call him Master Brandybuck one day." He chuckled softly. "Merry as the Master of Brandy Hall. What's this Middle-Earth coming to?"
"Trouble, that's it," said Poppy. "Especially since Mr. Took's going to be Thain."
"Good old Pippin!" said Frodo. "I have to wonder what will happen to him when he gets older and settles down. It's really to early yet to tell what he'll be like...Not much different, I'll wager."
"He'll settle down soon enough," said Poppy. "He had that Diamond girl on his arm all night. She'll tie him up eventually. You'll see."
"Take him into bondage, you mean. Nothing short of shackles and a chain will keep Pippin down."
"Too true!" Poppy laughed, and then she blanched. The bell in the grandfather clock chimed four times. The swarming images from her dream came once again into her mind, and she visibly shook. "I-I-Oh, no. It's four in the morning! I'm so sorry!" she said suddenly. The wild emotion in her eyes could not be contained, and knowing this, she turned from him.
"Why are you crying?" asked Frodo. He had seen her eyes shine as she turned away.
"I'm not," she said, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to keep her tears from falling.
He surveyed her skeptically, "Yes, you are. It's the dream isn't it?"
"Yes," she said quietly.
"It's that battle-- on New Year's last year; the nightmares are from that battle," he said. He moved to her side, and he could see that it was true by the look of pain on her face. "I remember you being very upset when Faysal told us about it, and you said someone close to you died in that battle, back at Crickhollow..."
"Yes, but I can't talk about it now," she said. She drew her hands to her face and wiped her tears away. "I just can't. I just--can't."
"You can, when you are stronger. You've been hurt by the War, and I'm sorry to say that it's my fault that such evil came to the Shire. Those men and those orcs-- they came looking for me."
"For you?"she said, astonished. "But why?"
"I'll explain everything. Later. Right now, you're so tired and upset that you can hardly stand. Please, go to bed and get some sleep."
