Author's note: Okay, everyone, this sequel is near the end and so I hope you enjoy this chapter before the last one!


Disclaimer: No, Tolkien's characters aren't mine, but I own Tansy and Calla.

Tansy lay beside him in bed. She wondered if he even knew she was there as he whined from the high fever that inflicted him. Tansy patted his sweaty forehead and face with a cloth that had been dipped in cool water.

"Frodo?" Tansy whispered, begging for him to look at her.

When he turned his face and his sunken eyes opened a little, she smiled.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you before. I'm here now."

Frodo's eyes rolled away from her and his face fell onto the other side of the pillow.

"Frodo?"

Silence.

Frightened by the chilling silence, Tansy laid her head onto his chest. Her hands grasped the beige sleeves of his nightshirt.

"Oh no, Frodo, please don't die," she cried. "I don't want to lose you! No! No..."

Chapter Five: Bid Not Farewell


Tansy sat in a chair not far from the foot of the bed. It seemed she stayed there for hours, forlornly watching the bed where she once slept beside Frodo. Nothing anyone could do or say had persuaded her to leave the room. But her friends would not give up easily. Someone tapped the door twice. At the moment, even a knock on the door failed to interrupt Tansy's unwavering gaze that padlocked itself onto the bed.

"Come in," she barely said before the third knock.

She kept her gaze straight-ahead and yet aware of Rosie and Sam entering the room.

"Tansy?" said Rosie, stepping carefully toward her.

Mrs. Baggins remained still, as if every limb had been stiff. And not a twitch of her eyes until they finally gave in and fluttered a few times.

"Rosie?" she said, disoriented. "Yes, it's me. Sam is here, too.

"I--," Tansy began, shaking her head. "I still cannot believe he's gone. I tried everything to bring the fever down. I told him I was sorry and I'll be there for him. I tried, I--,"

"You've done all you could, Mrs. Baggins," said Sam, wiping a tear from under his left eye. "It's not your fault. The doctor tried, we all tried our best to keep him alive. Mr. Frodo, I think he just got tired of fighting."

"Tansy," Rosie uttered gently. "I know you don't feel like talking about this but it's important. It can't be put off any longer...what about his burial? We need to discuss it."

"I can't. Please, not now."

"But, Tansy--,"

Finally, she looked away from the bed and shot a bitter glance at Rosie and Sam.

"No! Not now. I'm tired and I just want to be alone."

"All right," muttered Rosie. "We'll come back tomorrow."

Tansy waited until they left and then she decided to leave the chair, something she never thought she could do. Mrs. Baggins stood by the left side of the bed where she slept. Tansy knew she would have to sleep in the bed eventually. After Frodo's death, it pained her to even step inside the room. And so she stayed in the parlor at nights, sleeping in the chair. It wasn't the most comfortable way of getting a good night's rest. And so before the evening came, Tansy's exhausted body begged for sleep, begged for the bed that looked so inviting.

Slowly, cautiously, as if something dreadful would happen, Tansy eased herself onto the bed. Her head fell against the soft pillow as she shifted her body into a fetal position.

As she stared at the mid-day sun streaming through the window and lovingly embraced her in its arms, Tansy thought she heard her mother's voice—a loving whisper that broke the frigid silence.

Close your eyes my child...sleep.

"Mum?" Tansy mumbled.

"Mum," she repeated and the rest of what she wanted to say had been silenced by sleep that gently closed her eyes.

Something jolted Tansy out of her pleasant slumber. She sprang from the bed, alarmed at the noise coming from the kitchen and Calla, gone from her wicker cradle. A terrified Mrs. Baggins quietly opened the door and tiptoed out into the hall.

"Who's there?" she shouted, not wanting the intruder to know that she was indeed frightened. "Who is it I say?"

When Tansy neared the end of the hall, the intruder greeted her. She gasped at someone unexpected.

"Frodo, what—what are you doing here?"

Clad in his white shirt and suspender breeches, he eyed her shockingly.

"What do you mean what am I doing here? I live here."

Tansy raced into the kitchen where the perky one-year old Calla Baggins was seated in her high chair.

Frodo followed her and added, "You were resting. I didn't want to disturb you and so I decided to give Calla her lunch."

"What—I don't understand. You died."

"Died?" Frodo chuckled. "Now if I was dead would I be standing here?"

"What a horrible dream," she said and circled her arms around Frodo, giving him a snug embrace. "I thought I had lost you when you were ill."

"I know. That was a few days ago, remember? I'm better now."

Tansy wondered if he had forgiven her selfishness. He never told her. If she had truly been forgiven, she longed to hear it from his lips. She longed for him to make love to her again, something they hadn't shared since he came home.

Tansy stared into his eyes. For a moment she thought his lips were closing in on hers, then he broke away from her embrace and returned to the table. She joined him, watching Frodo dejectedly as she sat down.

Frodo, I will not say goodbye to our marriage. Somehow, we have to get back what we once had. Please...please.

Calla pointed her spoon at Frodo.

"Da!" she shouted.

Frodo laughed. "That's right, Da." He brushed his fingers along her chubby pink cheek. Suddenly his smile faded. "I'm really your daddy."

"And a good daddy you are, too!"

Frodo eyed Tansy again. His smile returned—a shy one that replaced the melancholy expression he showed only seconds ago.

"And you're a good mommy."

Tansy smiled back, but unable to shake the uneasy feeling between them, her gaze left him and fell onto the table.

Wanting to veer the subject away from them, Frodo thought of something more cheerful.

"Isn't it splendid news about Sam and Rosie?"

Tansy perked in the chair and a broad grin brightened her face.

"Yes, it is. When Rosie told me that Sam asked her to marry him, I was so happy for her. She missed him terribly while you were both gone. And what a splendid idea you had of asking them to move in with us. It would be a pleasure having them here. I hope they have a beautiful day like we had."

Their wedding day, it seemed like years had passed since then and yet in June it would only be two years. Every time Frodo thought about it, about anything in the past, he winced at the memories along with the pain of his wounds.

I don't understand. You died...

Frodo whispered silently,

No Tansy, it's not a dream. I am dead. Dead to you and everyone I love.

When the first of May had finally arrived, it was a very joyous day for Sam and Rosie. Again, many guests were invited to the wedding that was held on the field. Tansy watched the couple, beaming at how beautiful Rosie looked in her dress and the flower crown that she had made for her. During the moment they kissed, she clapped excitedly and eyed Frodo who stood beside her. She saw his ecstatic expression but she also wondered if he remembered how happy they were on their wedding day.

A few days after the wedding, Frodo, Tansy, Sam, Rosie and of course Calla who took her usual seat in the high chair, they were all enjoying their dinner that Sam offered to cook.

Tansy, while finishing her chicken marinated in a rich broth, watched Frodo who laughed and seemed to be having a good time. At that moment, hope once dim had brightened again. And it's the reason she refused to give up on their marriage that the ring had broken.

"Hey," said Frodo to Sam and Rosie. "Your wedding is over, but that doesn't mean the celebration is over. Let's celebrate at the Green Dragon? I'll ask Merry and Pippin if they want to join us as well."

"Yeah," Sam answered eagerly and turned to look at Rosie sitting beside him. "Why don't we Rosie?"

"Why not? You know I don't mind a bit."

Frodo's initiation of having fun was a welcoming delight to Tansy's ears.

And so this is what she asked, "When will we go? Certainly not tomorrow. I have to get the babysitter here for Calla and she has to know of our plans in advance."

"Friday evening," Frodo suggested. "Will that be good?"

"Oh, yes," said Tansy. "That will give us plenty of time."

Sam and Rosie nodded in agreement.

Tansy added excitedly, "We'll have a wonderful time!"

On a chilly Friday evening, a cart, more like a coach parked in front of the Green Dragon Inn. Frodo, Tansy, Sam, Merry and Pippin stepped out and entered the inn. They met Rosie who was already there, working her usual shift. But that evening, she finished early to join her husband and friends in celebrating their marriage. First they sat at one of the tables, laughing and enjoying their ale. After some time, Sam asked Rosie to dance. Pippin proudly danced with a lass known as Diamond of Longcleeve and Merry strutted onto the floor with Estella Bolger dancing in his arms. But...Frodo and Tansy remained at the table, staring at one another uncomfortably.

"Well?" said Tansy, "Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"

"That's why we're here," Frodo answered, almost sarcastically. "To have fun, isn't it? So--,"

Frodo stood from the table. He gestured his left hand toward her while his other hand had been tucked behind his burgundy waistcoat.

"Would you like to dance Mrs. Baggins?"

Tansy gazed at him for a moment, suddenly troubled. Not by his invitation to dance, but the way he said...

"That's why we're here, to have fun isn't it?"

Tansy rose from where she sat.

"I would love to dance—Mr. Baggins."

Her hand slipped into his and she was guided onto the floor, joining the crowd of jaunty hobbits. Tansy watched him carefully as he waltzed her around the floor.

"Frodo," she said, her spiraled curls swung along with every movement of their dance. "Shouldn't we slow down a bit?"

"Why?" he answered, bitter laughter bellowed from his lips. "Aren't you having fun?"

As they twirled in an uneven circle, Tansy's hand grasped his shoulder, pulling him closer so that now they were face to face.

"Why did you want to come here?" she asked in a firm, raspy voice through clenched teeth. "Certainly not to have fun like you've said."

"You're not having fun. I on the other hand, am having a splendid time. You ask too many questions. How can you enjoy anything?"

They spun faster and during that moment, even the music seemed to suddenly speed up along with boisterous laughter booming around them.

Tansy raised her voice above the noise. "You're lying. Are you really having fun?" she remarked boldly.

"You doubt me so much. Why, Tansy?"

His face darkened. Something she had seen before. It terrified her then and now her fear of him had returned.

Despite the fear, Tansy refused to back down. "You didn't come here out of your free will."

"What do you want?" Frodo growled.

"I don't want it to be like this. The ring, Frodo, it was destroyed at Mount Doom like you told me, but you need to destroy it in your mind. Please, you must do it so we can move on or else what we have will be gone forever."

"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped, "Let's just dance...like you wanted!"

"I said, not like this! Please, Frodo, slow down!"

Frodo tightened his grip around Tansy's waist.

"Stop it. Let me go!"

He ignored his wife and continued to spin her around until they stepped out of rhythm, losing control of the dance.

"I said stop it!"

Frodo stumbled backwards, bumping into one of the couples.

The elder hobbit Frodo had bumped turned around to see that it was the queer Frodo Baggins he detested.

"Hey!" the elder hobbit said indignantly. Anger blazed across his harsh facial features. "Why don't you watch it! I don't have patience with cracked folk such as yourself."

Frodo humbled himself. "I'm terribly sorry."

"Are you now?"

The elder hobbit marched toward his table nearby. He grabbed the handle of his mug.

What Frodo didn't expect was to be slapped on the face with ale.

The music and dance came to an abrupt halt.

Everyone froze, shocked at the incident as they watched Frodo who was obviously upset and embarrassed.

Tansy threw her hand against her mouth, wanting to reach out to her husband. Ale dripped from his drenched curls, down his face and onto the waistcoat he wore.

A furious Samwise Gamgee pushed through the crowd, targeting the elder hobbit.

"There was no reason for that!" he snarled. "Mr. Frodo said he was sorry."

"Go on," the elder spatted. "You're cracked just like he is!"

At that, Sam clutched the collar of the elder's shirt. And it seemed like he was about to strike him when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Sam!" Rosie called desperately. "Don't. He's not worth it. Let's be on our way now."

Not wanting to disappoint Rosie, Sam fought his desire to roll his fingers into a tight fist. Instead, he loosened his grip on the elder's collar and pushed him against the table.

Merry and Pippin managed a quick bow to the lasses they danced with and rushed away from the crowd.

Again, Tansy wanted to reach out to Frodo but he stormed away from her and out of the inn. She sadly looked back at Rosie and Sam approaching her.

"Come," Rosie said, comforting Tansy with one of her warm, endearing smiles.

They left the inn and when riding back home in the coach, no one said a word.

The coach passed the willow tree by the pond where Tansy and Frodo had their picnics together. She stiffened and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from falling apart.

I never thought it would come to this.

When the driver parked the coach in front of the Baggins' and Gamgee hole, Merry and Pippin solemnly said their goodbyes to both couples and then the coach was off again.

Frodo had been the first to unlock the door and walk inside the hole. Tansy, Rosie and Sam lagged behind. Frodo paid the babysitter and after she had gone, he checked the bedroom where Calla had been sleeping peacefully. After he had done that, Frodo returned to the parlor where Sam, Rosie and Tansy sat in their comfy chairs by the fireplace.

"I'm sorry, Sam...Rosie," he said to them in a flat, dejected tone. "I ruined your night that was supposed to be fun."

Sam spun around in the chair and jumped onto his feet. "Mr. Frodo, it wasn't your fault. Now I don't want you worrying about it either. He was just looking for trouble is all."

"Sam is right," said Rosie. "We had a delightful time."

Frodo nodded. He turned away from them and shuffled back down the hall.

Tansy dashed after him. "Frodo?"

He stopped short, turned and faced her.

"Tansy," he said softly with a frown on his face. "I'll be in the bathroom. I need to get out of these clothes."

"All right."

Her eyes, heavy with sorrow had followed him until he disappeared into one of the bathrooms. She had gone back to the parlor where she joined Sam and Rosie. This time, she remained standing beside the chair Rosie sat in.

Sam shook his head. "I feel so bad for Mr. Frodo. He's trying to get on with his life. And what happened tonight...I wanted to--,"

"I know Sam," said Rosie. "But it would have made things worse for Frodo."

Suddenly, alarming screams shrieked through their ears—screams that thundered and seemed to echo down the hall.

Tansy gasped. "Frodo!"

Sam and Rosie sprang from where they sat.

"Tansy--," Rosie started, wanting to follow her.

"No," Tansy shook her head. "I'll be all right."

Mrs. Gamgee nodded and allowed Tansy to go.

Tansy sped down the dimly lit hall. Her heart leapt and hammered against her chest each time she heard him scream. Her hand reached for the brass knob of the bathroom. For a moment it seemed to her that she would never grasp it, but she did. And when Tansy bolted inside the spacious bathroom, she saw Frodo on the other side of the room near the tub resembling a huge barrel. He was slumped against the wall. His face, sheltered behind the sleeves of his nightshirt.

Tansy shut the door behind her. Trembling from fright, she wet her lips.

"Frodo?" she uttered and eased cautiously toward him.

Bombarded with the memories that had taken him back to the darkness, the madness.

The flaming eye blazed with a ferocious anger, watching him...

I see you.

Frodo saw something else, Smeagol falling into the lava. And the ring, there it was, floating a top the smoldering red liquid.

It's mine, no, no!

Behind his tears that felt hot like the air around him, he could do nothing but watch the ring—his precious that sank slowly until it had been swallowed by the ravenous lava.

Noooo!

And yet another thing he saw, slinking out of the darkness was one of the Orcs. A horrifying place it was, the tower in Cirith Ungol. He almost retched at the foul smell and his eyes widened at the whip snaking in the air. Frodo screamed again when the whip tore through his flesh, branding his skin with a bloody whip-weal.

No more! Please, no more!

The Orc ignored him, showing a haughty smile along with rotten, black teeth.

A merciless rage boiled deep within Frodo, a rage that shoved him away from the wall and barging toward the Orc. He slammed the hideous creature against the other wall, pinning him there with his hands clenched tightly around the Orc's neck.

"I'll kill you!" Frodo snarled. His facial features contorted by the rage that blinded him to who it was.

Then, as if something shook him, waking him to the reality of the situation...Frodo's eyes widened in horror at his hands around Tansy's neck.

Sweat drenched his face. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what happened as he loosened his grip from around Tansy's neck.

Her hand clutched her neck while she gasped violently and begged for air.

"Tan--," Frodo began but didn't finish. He trembled when realizing he almost killed his wife. At that horrifying realization, Frodo turned away from her and slowly slid down onto the floor.

Tansy continued to gasp and cough.

Three knocks pounded at the door.

"Tansy!" she heard Sam shouting outside in the hall. "Mr. Frodo!"

Mrs. Baggins stumbled over to the door, at the same time she rubbed her neck to ease the burning pain.

A raspy "Sam," gurgled from her lips.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

She cleared away the thick phlegm that lodged in her throat.

"Y-yes. We're fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sam."

She listened for his footsteps that faded away from the door and then she turned to stare at Frodo who sat against the wall. He gazed unblinking into the space around him.

Tansy sat on the floor several feet from her husband. She stayed there for a while, staring at him.

He never moved.

He just sat there.

Lost.

Tansy eased herself across the tiles, sliding toward him.

His eyes fluttered twice but he kept his gaze away from her.

She shivered and despite what had happened, Tansy didn't run away from him.

More words sputtered from her lips. "Your hair needs washing, Frodo. The ale, remember? I have to wash that out."

As if she was in denial of everything, Tansy took the basin used for hair washing and filled it with lukewarm water. After the first task had been done, she sat in a chair and laid the basin on her lap. Then gently, she lifted Frodo's limp body onto a cushioned bench. Tansy placed his neck into the headrest on the basin. For a moment, she stared lovingly into his angelic-like face. His eyes were shut. Tansy proceeded, ignoring the throbbing ache and unaware of the ruddy bruise that already made itself known halfway around her neck.

She dipped his head into the water and with a small bar of soap she began to wash his hair. Tansy wanted to make sure there was not one trace of ale left in his hair, vigorously washing his curls that were now buried under a thick white lather.

She took the bucket of water, pouring it over his hair until all the soap had been washed out. Tansy swept her hand through his clean, wet curls no longer sticky from the ale. She bit her bottom lip that trembled.

Come back to me, Frodo. I love you so much.

Tansy removed the basin off her lap and placed it onto the floor. She lifted Frodo, sitting him up on the bench and then she took a towel and began to dry his hair. She flinched when his fingers gently twined themselves around her wrist, stopping her from what she was doing.

"Frodo, what is it?" asked Tansy. She left the chair and knelt in front of him. "Please, talk to me."

He slid off the bench, collapsing onto his knees. And before Tansy could say another word, Frodo fell into her arms. Choking sobs burst from his lungs as she snuggled against him. Her own tears, longing to be free had streamed down her freckled face.

Since he had been home, they never cried together and for the first time Frodo embraced the closeness he missed while Tansy rocked him lovingly.

"I—I'm sorry," cried Frodo.

"Shh--," Tansy whispered.

"I love you," he cried again.

"I know...I love you, too."

Tansy unfolded his right hand until his four fingers had been in sight. She took his hand and brushed his fingers along her cheekbone. Tansy watched the water peek from beneath his damp curls and trail down his skin. His fingers moved from her cheek and onto her lips. She shivered when the tips of his fingers arched down along her neck.

"I'm sorry," Frodo repeated when he saw the bruise. He peered into her eyes that told him she had accepted his apology. And then...

His four-fingered hand left her neck, drifting down further.

Tansy stiffened at his touch—his touch she had desired for so long.

Slowly she shut her eyes and felt herself falling back onto the cool tiles.

Her lips had been taken into his.

Lost in the rapturous moment. Everything that happened, all that existed...

Became still.

Tansy awoke to the room spinning around her.

Where am I?

Her eyes narrowed, focusing in on the small round window. It was open just a bit. Sunlight flooded what she now recognized to be the bathroom. A warm, soothing breeze wafted inside, bringing with it the invigorating aroma of fresh flowers.

On the floor, Tansy was cuddled in Frodo's arms and discovered she never changed into her nightdress. Ruffled sleeves of the dress she wore draped below her shoulders. And the bottom of her dress hiked up to her thighs that were locked between his legs.

Tansy peeked at Frodo who stirred in his sleep. Several buttons on his nightshirt and been undone. Every moment or so, the breeze peeled back the left side of Frodo's shirt, revealing glimpses of his chest.

"Frodo?" she whispered.

And when she saw he looked so peaceful, Tansy decided not to disturb him. Instead, she snuggled her face inside his shirt and tenderly laid her cheek onto his chest.

During the year 3021, another winter, spring and summer had come and gone. September visited them again. Tansy stepped inside the den where Frodo sat at his desk and busy scribbling in the red book about his adventure. He didn't know she was there, standing behind him. That night inside the bathroom was as clear as if it happened yesterday. It wasn't the only time they were close. They're were other times, though the nightmares and his illnesses continued to haunt him.

His birthday was a few days away but she noticed he didn't talk about celebrating it.

"Frodo?"

He looked up to see her standing above him.

"Hmm?" He stopped writing and dunked the quill into the ink jar.

"What are you planning for your birthday?"

He drew in a deep breath and reluctant to begin what he wanted to say. Tansy stiffened. She wondered why she suddenly felt uneasy. Afraid.

"What's wrong?"

"I won't be here for my birthday."

"You won't be here? Where are you going?"

"Uncle Bilbo is leaving for the undying lands. The journey to the Grey Havens will be a long one and I must be with him when he leaves."

Tansy nodded. Frightened, she answered nervously, "You told me about this before, the Grey Havens. The elves go there and they leave in the ship to Valinor, never to return. Frodo, promise me you won't leave again?"

He stood and embraced her against him. Frodo squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he could not promise anything at the moment, because he knew what happened before when he gave her his promise. All he could do was whisper...

"I love you."

Sam gave Rosie and their daughter, Elanor a hearty hug. Tansy watched through a blur of tears, Frodo dressed in his waistcoat and hoisting Calla into his arms. He kissed her forehead and when he put her down next to Elanor, Frodo kissed Tansy's lips once more. Again, she was faced with the pain of watching him walk away with Sam, down the steps and toward the gate. The coach waiting for them.

She continued to watch them until her eyes faded behind the closing door.

Not long after Frodo had gone, Tansy entered the bedroom. She froze when seeing an envelope that lay on the desk. Reluctantly she reached for the sealed envelope and after opening it she pulled out a beige parchment. It was a letter written by Frodo. Tansy read the first paragraph and could not read any further.

The elves go there and they leave in the ship to Valinor, never to return.

She slumped down onto the edge of the bed.

The letter slipped from her fingers.

Like a feather, it fell onto the floor and glided across the tiles by the breeze that sailed through the window. The letter had been blown into the airy tunnel and continued its journey down the long, silent hall.

TBC