A/N: Sorry this took so long to post; the muses had cold feet for a while. ;) This is effectively the end of the story, but there *will* be an epilogue, as well. Many, many thanks to all who have reviewed this story over the past year of its existence! It's so hard to believe it's been over a year since I began... Also, this was posted today in honor of Tangelian's birthday. :)

_Chapter 19_ "Farewells"

"No."

"But--"

"No."

"It's the wedding feast! You have to."

"No."

"What will people think if the Ringbearer doesn't toast the King and his new Queen?"

"I can toast them perfectly well with water," he insisted, clutching his pewter goblet close to himself, protectively guarding it from the pitchers and flagons his cousins brandished.

"Just one glass. That's all, I promise," Pippin wheedled.

"No! That's what you said *last* time, Peregrin Took. 'It'll do you some good,' you said. Ha! We all know what happened after that."

"What happened?" Merry asked cautiously, exchanging a glance with Pippin.

"*Joram* happened," he said angrily, his voice a little too loud and beginning to draw the attention of the other guests.

Sam heard the raised voices even from across the large pavilion, and he hurried his steps as he tried to return to his master's side. Under any other circumstances, being in the company of this many elves would have him awestruck, for it seemed both Rivendell and Lothlorien had been emptied for the grand event. But now he was getting impatient with how many of the tall beings he had to push his way past. Fortunately, most did not seem to notice his rudeness.

The argument was continuing, and he wondered at the fact that all it took was for him to go to the privy for those miscreants to upset Frodo. Just before he gained sight of them the voices stopped, and for a moment he feared something had happened, but then he saw Jael crouching next to them, speaking calmly. A sight she was, and had she not ridden down to the field with them, he would not have recognized her. Her straight hair was unloosed and flowed endlessly down her back, kept from her face by but a delicate headband. And her dress was quite different from usual, a deep green that was fitted in such a way as to make it undeniable that she was most certainly a woman, and an attractive one at that.

Of course, they were all in their finest, and he looked down at himself somewhat ruefully. In the midsummer heat his clothes had acquired a rather limp appearance; at least the sun had set and the lamps scattered throughout the pavilion cast things in a more complementary light. He was uncomfortable in the finery given him, and looked forward to being able to shed it at last.

He came within earshot of the others to catch the end of the conversation. "-you should not push him," Jael was scolding.

"No, no, it is all right," Frodo interjected. "I... overreacted a bit, I'm afraid. It has been a long day."

"Aye, it has," Sam agreed, approaching the small circle.

Jael nodded slightly at him, reassuring him that all was well, before saying, "If you were to sit at one of the tables along the side, I'm sure you could step out once the toasting is complete. The feasting and celebrating is likely to go long into the night, if elves are anything like Men."

"Or hobbits," Pippin added with a wink at Merry.

They had just settled at a table very close to the front but off to one side when the guests of honor arrived. All parted to allow the majestic King and his radiant Queen passage to the head table. Lord Elrond, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, and Gandalf followed at a respectful distance; all were a most impressive company. The hobbits stood on their chairs and gawked, enthralled by the beauty of the elven women. Sam blushed as he saw Galadriel glance in their direction, feeling again as if he hadn't got any clothes on under her gaze.

Legolas and Gimli also joined the hobbits when all claimed a seat, both because they felt more comfortable around those they knew, and because Gimli preferred being close to those of similar height, since they all felt quite short in the company of so many tall folk. The toasts were a long procedure, and as they finally began to wind down Frodo was quite thankful he'd passed up on alcohol, for his cousins were already looking rather tipsy. Finally there came the last toast to the new Queen's health and beauty, and all could at long last let their glasses come to rest upon the table.

More food was served, and the two mischievous cousins decided now was a good time to provide their own entertainment, much to Frodo's chagrin. He tried in vain to get them off the table, as the coolly aloof elves were beginning to stare in what could only be interpreted as disdain. The pair wouldn't budge, so Frodo took this opportunity to slip out unnoticed. Sam accompanied him, and once outside the oppressive air of the tent both heaved a sigh of relief. It was a cool, clear night, and the stars shone brightly as if in blessing of the celebrations below. Frodo yawned, and Sam asked, "What now?"

Frodo looked at him blearily. "What do you mean?"

Sam gestured helplessly. "Where are we going? We can't go all the way back into the city by ourselves."

"Oh..." Frodo frowned. "I don't know."

The unexpected arrival of Faramir solved their quandary. "You are looking to rest, I presume?" his voice came from behind Frodo and the sleepy hobbit jumped, nearly stumbling in his surprise. Sam stepped to his aid as the Man continued, "I've been instructed to take you to a small tent set up for your use."

He led them slowly, as if remembering to take into account their shorter strides and weariness. Sam was disturbed to see that Frodo was stumbling in exhaustion almost as much as his master's cousins had been staggering in their inebriation. He was relieved he'd followed Frodo's lead and drunk only water, for he knew he'd be of no use to Frodo as tipsy as the other two.

They soon arrived at a slightly shorter tent that was set off a bit from the main path. Several lamps hung inside, illuminating a row of four low beds. Once Sam assured him they would be fine, and no, they didn't need anything, the Steward left. Frodo sagged onto one of the beds furthest from the door opening, already unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Why didn't Bilbo come, Sam?" he asked abruptly.

"I don' rightly know, sir," he replied honestly. "Mayhap the trip was too long for him, gettin' as old as he is."

Frodo sighed. "Maybe, but I had been dearly hoping to see him. I miss him," he added plaintively.

"As do I, sir," Sam answered, unsure what else to say. A realization dawned on him, and he felt his stomach sink. What if the old hobbit had died in their absence? Would Lord Elrond have told them by now, or would he choose to wait and not cast a shadow on the festivities? He looked worriedly at Frodo's back as his master laid down and wondered if any of these thoughts had occurred to him as well. He dearly hoped not.

As he took off his own waistcoat and shirt to slide underneath the sheet of his own bed, he found himself wondering what if Bilbo *had* died... it would surely be a sore blow to Frodo, and the others as well. He tried not to think further along that line of speculation, instead blowing out the lamp above them, bidding his master a good night, and directing his thoughts toward beautiful females as he drifted to sleep.

~~~~

The modest celebration continued for four days before the demands of a kingdom required the King's return. Even then the singing and instrumental melodies remained, and it was said for many years after that if you listened closely to the wind on a clear summer's eve, you could still hear the music of the elves.

While Merry and Pippin were somewhat dismayed that the festivities consisted mostly of song and tales, with only a passing thought given to food and drink, they enjoyed what they were given, in the form of miruvor and any number of elven delicacies, including lembas. Sam did not take any, but Frodo persuaded Merry to give him a piece of his, just to try it again.

He ventured a small bite, and his suspicions soon proved correct. The lembas tasted as it always had, and there was nothing troublesome in that, but the familiar taste revived memories of not so distant times when he'd had to rely on it as his only source of food. The recollections were not pleasant, and he hastily returned the remaining piece to his cousin's heaped plate while hurriedly swallowing what little was in his mouth. He would not be able to eat lembas for a long time yet.

After they had spent a week in the elves' company, the hobbits resumed their residence of the small house on the sixth level. All were longing for their normal beds (well, as 'normal' as one's bed in a strange city hundreds of miles from home can be), and Frodo especially was growing weary of continually being in the company of strangers and thus needing to maintain a polite and gracious attitude. So they went back, accompanied by Gandalf, and more or less settled back into how things used to be.

~~~~

Jael stood silently in the doorway for a moment, gauging whether the hobbit was sleeping where he was sitting curled up on the window seat. He sighed and shifted, rearranging his legs, and resumed his wordless watch of the scene before him without ever turning in her direction. He likely hadn't even noticed her presence, and briefly she considered leaving him to himself. But she had volunteered to find him, so she approached him instead.

"It's a lovely view," she said by way of warning as she came up from behind him and sat opposite him on the window seat.

"It is," he agreed absently, his eyes never moving from the studious examination of the windowpane and what lay beyond.

"May I ask why you are in here?" He had told Sam he would be outside in a moment; he just needed to fetch a book. That moment had stretched to nigh on half an hour, and her approach of the house had found a gardener beginning to become worried, so she'd offered to find Frodo, so Sam wouldn't have to take the time to wash up before entering the house, and so she would have an opportunity to speak candidly with him. He'd been abnormally quiet in the week the hobbits had been back, and she'd been wanting to ask him about it. "Frodo?"

Finally he turned to look at her and shrugged. "I was distracted," he said defensively, motioning toward the window.

She looked out a moment, taking in the bright summer day, her eyes also drawn to the elven pavilions just at the edge of sight, the fabric billowing and the pennants snapping smartly in the breeze from the river. "That is easily understood," she allowed. "But that's not the only thing on your mind, is it?"

As if her question had hit a nerve, he quickly turned his gaze back to the window. At length, he admitted, "I wish Bilbo had come."

"Your cousin?"

"Yes." His expression softened a bit as he thought about the dear old hobbit. "Since he didn't come, I'm realizing how much I miss him." He added in a whisper, "I want to go home."

She was silent for a moment. How well she understood that feeling! But she was not sure she had the words with which to comfort him. "Have you talked to anyone about going home?" she asked finally.

"No," he answered shortly. "How could I? We had just recently arrived here when everything happened, and now that it's over, Ar- the King has just gotten married and I..." he trailed off, gesturing helplessly before curling even further into himself, hugging his knees closer to his chest and resting his chin upon them as he continued to stare fixedly outside.

"Ah, but surely the King will understand your desire to return to your home! The celebrations for the wedding have ended and you are recovering well; I see no reason why you cannot now bring that request before the King and your companions." She paused, and then pressed, "Is this why you have been so quiet of late? Your thoughts have turned to your home?"

He did not answer for a time. Then, "I suppose it is."

She waited for him to elaborate, and when he did not, she prodded, "But?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's hard to explain."

Jael looked at him closely, and decided to let the matter drop. She spoke as she stood. "I will go tell Sam that you're all right. And do consider asking the King about leaving. You should know by now he would not refuse you anything."

~~~~

All told, it was over a week before Frodo gathered up the courage to approach Aragorn on the subject. It was late afternoon when he found the King and Queen in the garden. Arwen was singing of Valinor as they sat beside the fountain, and the growing white tree basked in the droplets of water and the voice of unspeakable beauty. As Frodo ventured into the garden, the singing met his ears and began to melt his resolve, and he was tempted to turn around and forget the whole thing. But he'd been seen, and they rose to greet him.

Aragorn anticipated his request and spoke first. "I know what you have come to say, Frodo: you wish to return to your own home."

"It is true that I wish to go back to the Shire," said Frodo. "But first I must go to Rivendell and see Bilbo. I beg leave to depart soon."

"In seven days we will go," said Aragorn. "For we shall ride with you far on the road, even as far as the country of Rohan. In three days now Eomer will return hither to bear Theoden back to rest in the Mark, and we shall ride with him to honour the fallen. And if there were any gifts that I could give to match with your deeds you should have them; but whatever you desire you shall take with you, and you shall ride in honour and arrayed as princes of the land."

But the Queen Arwen said: "A gift I will give you. In my stead you shall go to the Havens, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you then desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West, until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been woven!"

And she took a white gem like a star that lay upon her breast hanging upon a silver chain, and she set the chain about Frodo's neck. "When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you," she said, "this will bring you aid."

He looked down wonderingly at it, one hand absently toying with the unusual gem. "Thank you," he murmured.

They sat in silence for a while, and Frodo gathered his wits about him again to broach a different matter. Arwen seemed to realize this and inquired, "What troubles you so?"

He opened his mouth to speak and, finding no words, closed it again. This occurred several times before he stammered, "I... I would like to... to give something to... to the lady Jael. But I haven't anything to give." His last words tumbled out in a rush.

"What sort of gift did you intend?" Aragorn asked.

Frodo shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

"Think on it, then. You have several days yet to decide."

~~~~

Frodo couldn't concentrate at all on the plate in front of him. He was too nervous. Aimlessly pushing bits of meat and vegetables around with his fork, he looked across the table at Jael, who was at the moment completely absorbed in the business of eating. Esli sat next to her, and when he noticed Frodo's wandering glance, he winked at the hobbit. The wink was answered by a small smile, and Frodo's gaze moved on, gradually alighting on each person at the King's table, and eventually returned to his deplorably full plate.

He sighed, spearing a few small bits and slowly chewing them. The entire meal was a ruse, simply to provide an excuse for Jael to come to the Citadel, and when it was over, he would find out if the gift he'd settled on would be well received. It took him much thought, a long conversation with Sam, and even a consultation with Esli before he made up his mind, but even at these last moments he wasn't sure how she was going to react. He hoped she'd be pleased, but the anxiety of not knowing was tying his stomach in knots.

Frodo was so absorbed in thought that when Jael addressed him, he nearly choked in surprise and had to gulp some of his tea to clear his throat. "Are you all right?" she asked, voicing the concern of all present.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I was just... startled," he said dismissively. "And I'm sorry, what did you say before?"

"I asked what you were thinking about that had you so serious," she said lightly, amusement evident in her tone.

"I was thinking about leaving in a few days," he answered. In truth, thoughts of their rapidly approaching departure were not far from his mind, but he dared not admit what had really been occupying his attention, for fear of ruining the surprise.

"I see." Jael quickly dropped her eyes before he could read her expression and stared at her own plate. She had already known Frodo and the others were anxious to leave, but the reality of having to say farewell in just five short days was only now beginning to sink in. She was going to miss them terribly when they were gone. With their departure it seemed all her life's purpose was leaving as well, as they would no longer need her to cook and care for them, and the reading lessons she had come to enjoy would end.

It was true there had been those days when the hobbits stayed below the city for the wedding merrymaking and she had elected to return home, spending some very welcome time alone with her husband, but that was different. Then it was only a temporary break; this upcoming separation would be permanent. And she would miss the hobbits desperately. Their cheery natures and enthusiasm for life were a welcome change to the dreary existence that was so typical in the city.

She swallowed thickly and pushed those thoughts aside. Better to enjoy these last few days than spend them in the gloom of misery. But still... it was difficult to completely banish those thoughts, and they made her stomach churn.

At long last, or so it seemed to Frodo, the meal came to an end, and Aragorn suggested that the hobbits and Jael and Esli join him and Arwen in a quiet sitting room for a smoke and some conversation. Jael tried to protest her inclusion in the company of such 'high folk' but the King would have none of it and ensured that she and Esli walked right behind him and Arwen, while the hobbits trailed after. Frodo hung back a bit, both looking forward to and dreading the coming moment.

The chairs were arranged around the fireplace, which remained unlit in consideration of the heat, so the room was pleasantly cool in spite of the numerous candles and torches scattered along the walls for light. Aragorn seated himself and Arwen at one end of the semi-circle, and Esli led Jael to the chair next to the Queen, as arranged.

For her part, Jael remained oblivious to everything until her husband nudged her and urged her to sit down. It was then that she finally noticed the small silver harp upon the seat. Her eyes widened and she gasped, glancing at the King and Queen to see if this was just some misunderstanding. But they were smiling at her, so she turned back to the chair in confusion. "What is this?" she asked, her voice sounding choked and unnatural to her ears.

The tone of her voice made Frodo's heart sink in dread, and it did not stop until it had splattered all over the tops of his furry feet. "It- it is a gift," he forced himself to say as he stepped toward her. "It is my fault if you do not like it-"

He was cut off when she knelt in front of him and enveloped him in an embrace. "No! No, that's not it at all," she quickly reassured him. When she withdrew, he could see tears on her cheeks, but she was also smiling. "It's- it's wonderful," she continued. "I don't know what to say to thank you."

"Why don't you play it?" Pippin suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she said in awe as she again surveyed the instrument perched on the cushion. "Not yet. It's been much too long since I've ever touched a harp."

"You could at least pick it up," Frodo teased, having regained his voice once his heart returned to its former place.

Jael gingerly picked it up, as if afraid it would shatter or melt, and swiftly sat down, cradling the harp in her lap. A conversation began and went on around her, something about a white tree and where it came from, but she paid it no heed as her focus was solely upon the delicate instrument. It was of elven make, of that she was certain, and she wondered where they had gotten it. Her fingers brushed lightly over the strings, instinctively picking out the notes of a song she used to know.

Frodo listened with interest as Aragorn told of finding the White Tree, but watched Jael as he did so. She was completely enthralled, and it pleased him greatly that the gift was so well-received, since he'd been so uncertain of whether she'd appreciate the reminder of her life before reaching the city. The faint notes Jael drew from the harp were haunting, and seemed almost elvish in their lamenting quality. The melody seemed almost familiar, like something he'd heard in Rivendell or Lothlorien...

Jael's fingers faltered for what seemed the hundredth time, and she was surprised to hear a voice humming the melody to fill in the gap. She looked up to see the Queen smiling at her. "My Lady?" she questioned the elf.

"You know the Lay of the Mariner," Arwen said quietly, not loudly enough to interrupt the other conversation.

"I did," Jael admitted, blushing as she looked down at her hands. "I'm making quite a mess of it, I'm afraid."

"You are doing well; you have been well-taught," the other assured her gently. "Allow your mind to go free and you will remember."

Jael tried again, but again faltered as everyone turned their attention to her. The Queen touched her arm reassuringly, so she started over. After a moment, and with a smile at Aragorn, Arwen began to sing.

~~~~

The intervening days between that night and the night before the group was to leave passed more quickly than Jael would have liked, and even for the hobbits time flew by. All too soon preparations were made, carts and packs were loaded, the elven tents began disappearing one by one, and the city was silent in anticipation as night fell and the final arrangements were settled for the morning's departure. The weather also seemed to be holding its breath, for not a wisp of breeze stirred the brooding air as it hung thickly over the city.

The next morning dawned warm and bright as a number of folks scurried hither and thither to prepare the King and his party, piling goods onto carts and readying horses as soon as it was light. Jael and Esli were at the house early, Jael preparing breakfast and Esli assisting with loading the hobbits' meagre belongings and any other things that needed doing. The hobbits rose at first light, despite not having gotten much sleep due to the oppressive heat, and were quickly ready for the journey, Merry and Pippin in their respective liveries, and Frodo and Sam in their lightest and most comfortable clothes.

It was with great reluctance that the inhabitants of the house finished eating and cleaned up after themselves. Finally they went out to the main street where their ponies were waiting. Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli had gone up to the Citadel to honor Theoden as his body was brought forth from the tombs in Rath Dinen, leaving the hobbits to say their farewells to Jael. An awkward silence ensued, the chattering of people as they passed and the ponies' shuffling and snuffling the only interruptions.

"I guess this is good-bye, then," Merry said finally.

"Aye," Jael answered hesitantly. She knelt to better look them in the eye, and briefly embraced first Merry, then Pippin. Sam was next, and he mumbled his thanks as he hurriedly hugged her as well, and then stepped back, blushing.

Frodo hung back until the other three had finished. Then Jael was holding him tightly, murmuring softly into his ear. The other hobbits did not see Frodo's face as he said farewell, for his back was to them, but they did see Jael, and she was weeping. What words passed between them, Frodo never told.

By the time they broke the embrace, the funeral procession was approaching, and all were silent in respect for the fallen king. Jael hurriedly reached into a pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt, and pressed a small, smooth object into Frodo's palm. It was a coiled shell, in iridescent shades of pearl and pink. "May you one day see the Sea for yourself," she whispered.

Before he could react, the procession was passing by, and the hobbits had to fall into line, walking as they lead their ponies. Jael was waving at them when Frodo turned to look back and he clumsily waved back, not wanting to drop the small treasure she had given him. All too soon she was lost to view in the crowds of people, and Frodo had to focus on the road ahead. If anyone had seen a few tears snake down his cheeks, they would have thought nothing of it. It was a funeral procession, after all.

And so it was the great and fair company of men and elves and hobbits rode north from the city of Minas Tirith, bound for Edoras and the lands beyond.

The End (an Epilogue to follow)

A/N: The conversation between Aragorn, Arwen, and Frodo by the Tree is taken and paraphrased a bit from Book 6, Chapter 6, "Many Partings."