The Travelers
by Gillian
Left Behind.
The next morning Frodo was happily eating his toast when he became aware he was under scrutiny. He paused with a slice halfway to his mouth, marmalade dripping from one end. Pippin was staring at him.
"What?"
"Hmm?" Pippin smiled innocently. "Nothing."
"You're staring at me," Frodo accused.
"No I'm not." Pip rested his chin on his hands. "So, Frodo, how did you sleep?"
"Pippin," Merry said, nudging his cousin with his shoulder. Pip turned to look at him and Merry glared.
"Why is he staring at me?" Frodo asked.
"I'm sitting here harmlessly eating my breakfast," Pippin said defensively.
"May I speak to you for a minute?" Merry said tightly, dragging the protesting hobbit up from the table and out of the kitchen. A muffled argument drifted down the hall behind them.
"So, how long are they staying?" Bilbo said, sipping at his tea.
"Until the party's over," Sam chuckled, leaning Fael over one big hand and stroking his back gently. The baby burped and Sam patted his back, praising him. "Good lad!"
"I love them dearly," Bilbo said, his eyes rolling. "But they're so noisy! I like a bit of peace myself."
"Did Fael wake you up last night?" Frodo asked anxiously. "He was a bit fretful."
"I did hear some noise," Bilbo said thoughtfully. "But I just rolled over and went to sleep."
"Maybe we should move rooms," Sam said uneasily. He pressed the bottle teat back to Fael's lips and the baby latched on and began to suckle greedily. "He's generally pretty good at night, but he does wake now and then and roar his head off." He looked down at the baby, the tips of his ears a little red. "We wouldn't want to wake you every night."
"Every night," Bilbo mused. "Hmm, imagine that?"
Frodo raised a brow as Sam flushed even further and Bilbo smiled mischievously down into his milky tea. He hoped they were all talking about the baby's cries right now, but with Bilbo you never knew.
"It's only for a few more months," Bilbo dismissed. "I'm sure I can put up with the occasional disturbance in the night."
"What was happening in the night?" Pippin asked eagerly as he sat back down at the table with a bump and Merry groaned and covered his face with one hand.
"Fael was cryin'," Sam said firmly. "That's all. Just the baby cryin', as babies do."
"Oh," said Pip, looking crestfallen.
"Anyway," Merry said hastily. "We're delivering the invitations today and picking up the barrels from the Dragon. Is everything else organized?"
"This party was your idea," Frodo reminded him. "It's all in your hands."
"Won't be as good as my party was," Bilbo said in satisfaction.
"I don't think anyone will see a party like that again any time soon," Frodo agreed. "I'll take him, Sam," he offered as the bottle was noisily drained. Sam handed him over and Frodo stroked the wind out of him, deftly wiping the inevitable milky trickle he always brought back up. He sat him on his lap and let the baby lean back against his chest, one hand supporting him and the other stroking the down on his strong little feet. Fael kicked and wriggled, loving the freedom to flex his toes against his father's hands.
"I have some letters to write," Bilbo said, heaving himself to his feet. Pippin helped him up and supported him down the hallway and Merry put his head in his hands.
"What's that about?" Sam said from the sink.
"What?" Merry said, jumping to his feet. "Nothing! I'll go get those invitations!"
Frodo watched him go and then turned to Sam with a shrug. "Don't ask me," he said before Sam could say a word.
"How many cousins do you have anyway?" Sam teased, laying his hands on Frodo's shoulders and kissing his crown.
Frodo tilted his head and smiled up, hoping Sam could make out this invitation. It seemed he could because his eyes sparked and he lowered his head and parted his lips, just a little.
"Cooee! Anyone home?"
Sam straightened and Frodo blinked in disappointment.
"Daisy?" Sam called.
"Speaking of relatives," Frodo muttered, and then there was Daisy Green, nee Gamgee, Sam's oldest sister and the ruler of the female side of the Gamgee clan since Sam's mother had died when he was a lad. She had Sam's brown eyes and sandy hair, but she was a bit rounder and shorter. She had to reach up to kiss Sam's cheek and he ducked his head and turned his face so she could give him a peck.
"This is a surprise, Daisy," Sam said uncertainly.
"Well, I couldn't wait for you to find the time to come see me," she said pointedly, taking off her hat and laying it on the table. "Mr. Frodo," she nodded politely. "Oh, don't get up," she said as he made to stand. "I see you've your hands full. So this is the wee'un that has everyone talking, is it?"
"Nice to see you Mistress Green," Frodo said quickly, getting a word in while she could draw breath.
"We only got home yesterday," Sam defended, feeling the side of the pot and putting the kettle back on the fire.
"I know," Daisy said placidly, sitting down at the table with a comfortable sigh. "I saw dad last night and he told me about you becoming a father. You haven't seen your newest niece yet, Sam, she was born a month after you left last year."
The censure in her tone was unmistakable. "I hope you'll bring her to the party tomorrow," Sam said apologetically. "Er, the invitation should arrive today."
"I'll look forward to it. How's that tea coming along?"
Sam poured a fresh pot and exchanged a helpless look with Frodo, who suppressed a laugh. It was good to see someone else suffering under the gaze of his relatives. Then Daisy switched her attention to him and he gulped and tried to keep a panicked look off his face.
"So, can I hold my new nephew?" she said, reaching out her arms. Frodo handed Fael over and she held him with the ease of long experience, looking down into his wide blue eyes. Frodo tried to recall how many children she had now.
"Well, he's just as dad described him," she said thoughtfully. "My Holly is just getting over her cold, Sam, else I'd have bought her to show you and meet her new cousin. I've a pile of old clothes you might find useful if you don't mind second hand." She pinned Frodo with another glance and he almost squirmed.
"That would be fine," he managed. "We were going to buy some-"
"Oh you don't want to waste good money on baby clothes," Daisy dismissed scornfully. "They grow out of them quick enough. You pop by later, Sam, and I'll give you a basket full, and when you're done with them you pass them along to the next as needs 'em."
"Thank you, Daisy," Sam said weakly.
"So, he looks healthy enough," Daisy allowed, eyes busy over Fael's little form. "How old is he?"
"Nearly eight weeks," Frodo volunteered and she hummed thoughtfully.
"He's a mort small?"
"He was born early."
"Hmm. How's his possetting?"
"His what?" Frodo replied blankly.
"Does he bring up much of his feed?" Daisy asked patiently. "Might be he's not getting enough to eat."
"He's getting plenty," Sam said defensively.
"But not breast milk," Daisy said shaking her head sagely. "That's a set back."
"The elf who delivered him gave us a powder to mix with his milk," Frodo said, feeling his hackles rise a little at her dismissive tone. "It makes up for-"
"Nothing can make up for breast milk," Daisy interrupted smugly. "I've not weaned Holly yet, so I've some to spare. Best if I took him for a few months, gave him a better start. Always room for one more at our house."
"Daisy!" Sam exclaimed and Frodo decided he'd had enough. He reached over and plucked his son from his aunt's lap and held him close.
"We can manage just fine," he said haughtily.
"I wasn't going to steal him away, Mr. Frodo" Daisy chuckled, her eyes shining. "It was just an offer."
"And we're grateful for it," Sam said hastily.
Frodo glared at him. "Hmph," he said.
Daisy chuckled again, shaking her head. "No need to get your back up," she said, waving her hand airily. "I thought two lads might be glad to have someone take a new babe off their hands."
Frodo sat down with a bump on the opposite side of the table. "Well we're not," he said ungraciously.
"So I see." She studied him and Frodo held Fael up to his shoulder, resisting the urge to check to see if he had marmalade on his chin. Daisy Green had a stare that could bone a fish at twenty paces.
"Well, if you ever need advice you send for me. I promise I won't try and snatch him away." She gave him a smile and it was so like one of Sam's that Frodo found himself relaxing a little and huffing out a rueful breath. He lowered Fael back to his lap and dropped an absent kiss on his downy head.
Daisy sipped her tea placidly, looking with curious eyes around the kitchen. "A few biscuits might go well with this tea," she said pointedly and Sam sprang up.
"We have cake?" he offered and Daisy nodded.
"That'll do," she allowed and he rushed to fill a plate with Mrs. Hill's finest offerings.
Tea and cakes consumed Daisy picked her straw hat back up and smiled down at her new nephew. "Don't forget them clothes, Sam." She lifted her face and he obediently bent over and let her peck his cheek once more. She pinched his chin, probably the same way she'd been doing since he was a baby himself, Frodo thought, noting the soft love in her eyes as she gazed up at her little brother. "You are a worrit to us," she chided fondly, and then she swept out of the room like a small round tornado, leaving wreckage in her wake.
Sam sat down at the table. "Whew."
"Cheek," Frodo huffed without heat. "Did she think we'd just hand him over?"
"I feel better that's out of the way though," Sam said with a sigh. "It's her and dad I dreaded facin' most." He frowned. "Though neither of them asked all the questions I was expectin'."
"Not yet," Frodo predicted and Sam groaned. "There's one more you've yet to face," Frodo said, standing up and cradling the now dozing baby to his shoulder.
Sam raised a brow.
"Rosie Cotton," Frodo said and Sam winced.
Frodo patted him comfortingly on one slumped shoulder and carried Fael to their room for a nap. Before he laid him down he sat with him a while, holding him close and just stroking his hair. "Don't worry, Fael," he murmured into his delicate pointed ear. "Your dad and I won't be letting you go anywhere any time soon."
Poor Sam, Frodo thought. He had a feeling that for Sam Rosie might be the hardest one to face of all. Somewhere inside him something in Frodo felt small and ice cold.
He had his own fears where Rosie Cotton was concerned.
888
Rosie blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and sighed. It would be nice to get through one hour of work today without someone mentioning Samwise Gamgee. She deftly patted the yellow butter into a square and pressed it with the Cotton Farm stamp. Then she laid it aside and began to shape another.
"Mrs. Hill said they're back for good, or so it seems. They've got a standing order for her baked goods in already." Ruby carefully washed eggs and began to sort them.
Mrs. Cotton sniffed. "Well, she's a good enough cook for some, I suppose."
"They're getting all their dairy from us, mam," Rosie pointed out. "Just like they used to. That's good business."
"Aye, and their eggs too." Ruby surveyed her mornings work critically. "Might be worth investing in another half dozen layers, Lily, what do you think? I saw some good'uns at market last week."
"Let's see if those wanderers stay put this time," Lily Cotton said pointedly. "Barely a six month they stayed last time they come home and then they were up and off." She cast her daughter a significant glance. "Disappointed some folk around here, I can tell you."
Rosie rolled her eyes.
"But our Rosie weren't one of them," her aunt said cheerfully. "Else she wouldn't have been walking out every Sunday with the likeliest lads in Hobbiton."
"Hasn't wed one of them yet, has she?" Lily said sharply, then peeked out at the sun high overhead. "Better check that joint," she muttered and trotted away.
"You pay her no nevermind, love," Ruby said, drying her hands briskly on her apron. "She's just worried for you and it comes out sharper than it means."
"No need to worry over me," Rosie said, finished the last pat of butter with a grateful sigh. "Sam and I never made no promises." She chuckled. "He never could work up the nerve before he went off the first time."
Ruby joined her chuckles. "I recall. I'm partial to the shy type myself," she confided. "My Will blushes something terrible when..." she trailed away with a happy sigh and Rosie hid her smile behind her hand. Ruby shook herself. "Anyway," she said briskly. "You say you made no promises before he took off that first time, but what about when he come home? They stayed right here at the farm, didn't they?"
"Yes, but Sam was busy, off and about. And..." Rosie trailed off and bent over the tub, washing the greasy butter from her hands.
"And?"
"And he was different,' she shrugged. "Older, but in more than years. His eyes had such an odd look sometimes."
"So you didn't mind him going off again then?"
Rosie flicked her aunt a smile. "I minded something terrible," she confided. "Made a big fuss, just about stamped my foot at him. Told him I wouldn't wait for him, bold as brass, and him not even asked me!"
"There's askin' and there's askin'," her aunt said wisely. "I reckon you're grown up enough to know what a lad's sayin' with his eyes, even if he hasn't the nerve to speak it aloud."
"You know, I thought I was. But maybe I was mistaken about what I thought I saw. He was quick enough to hare off again when it suited him, and he hasn't exactly beaten a path to my door since he got home."
"Rosie, love," her aunt said tentatively. "I know the gossip has been flying thick and fast these last two days since they got back, but I was wondering..."
"I've heard about this mysterious babe, Aunty," Rosie confirmed and her aunt smiled in relief.
"Golden haired, so the stories go. Though that's not so rare as it was after this last year."
"Well I heard from Mrs. Hill that she saw the babe yesterday when she delivered some pies, and that his eyes were as blue as cornflowers."
Ruby pursed her lips thoughtfully. "That's a hopeful sign. Never known a Gamgee with blue eyes."
"Mr. Frodo's are blue enough," Rosie said pertly, untying her apron.
"So might this babe's mother be," Ruby retorted. She studied her niece with a worried frown. "So you reckon to pick back up then, love? Where you left off?"
"The problem is, Aunty we never left off anywhere." Rosie laughed and kissed Ruby on the cheek. "No, I reckon if I want to get anywhere this time, I better be the one who speaks up!"
888
Rosie pushed open the gate to Bag End and climbed the steps. Mr. Frodo was bending over a bush, plucking leaves. He turned, flicking a curl from his eyes.
"Hello," he said in surprise. He straightened and turned. "Hello, Rosie."
"Mr. Frodo," Rosie greeted, studying him curiously. He certainly looked different than he had the year before. His skin glowed with life and his hair was bright and shining in the afternoon sunlight.
"If you're looking for Sam he's popped out for a bit I'm afraid. Daisy had some baby clothes for us." He shot a glance to the wooden bench and Rosie saw a large beautifully woven wicker basket laying upon it. She could just see golden downy curls over the edge.
"I might walk and meet him then," Rosie said, backing down a step.
"You're welcome to wait," Frodo said generously. "I have a pot massing." He held up a handful of sage. "I was just picking some fresh herbs for a recipe I'm trying out. Something the elves shared with me."
"I wouldn't want to disturb you," Rosie said shyly.
"You'd be doing me a favor actually. If you could carry the herbs in for me?"
Rosie straightened her spine and stood her ground. What was she running away from? After all, this was where Sam was staying, she had a right to wait for him without feeling like a trespasser. "I'll carry the baby if you like," she offered on impulse.
Frodo glanced at the basket and then back to her. "Thank you."
Curious, Rosie stepped forward and peered down into the basket. The little one did indeed have golden curls and one pink palm pressed against his cheek. A light blanket was tucked around him and his rosebud lips were pursing in his sleep. She glanced up at Mr. Frodo and saw he was watching her closely. With a smile she picked up the basket and tucked the handle in the crook of her arm.
Frodo smiled back and indicated the open back door. "I'll lead the way, shall I?"
Rosie had to admit to some curiosity as she followed him into the dim cool hallway. She studied it all with interest, filing it away to tell her mother later, she was sure to be interested. The wide tiles were cool under her feet and Rosie followed Frodo down the fine paneled hall into the cozy kitchen.
"Just put him down on the table," Frodo invited, laying the herbs on a bench and taking down a cup and saucer from the dresser. "You will have some tea, won't you?"
Rosie watched as he bustled around, unable to help comparing him with the hobbit he'd been the year before. He'd looked well enough for the most part back then, just drawn about the eyes and tired a lot. In fact until his illness you'd have thought that was all that ailed him, weariness after the long journey he'd been on. But now Rosie could see it was if a light had been lit within him, and it was easier to see what had been missing the year before.
"You and Sam did it then," she blurted out and Frodo lifted his head and raised a curious brow. "Found your cure?"
Frodo huffed a chuckle. "Yes," he confirmed, turning back to the pot and pouring tea into her cup. "Thanks to the elves."
"I'm glad, Mr. Frodo," she said sincerely. "Right glad." She looked down at the worn old table, tracing a knothole with one finger. "Sam was that worried about you."
And now he doesn't have to be worried any more, Rosie thought in satisfaction. Mr. Frodo was all well and healed and that meant Sam had finally come home for good.
"Milk?"
"I can help myself," Rosie volunteered, feeling much more cheerful all of a sudden. She poured herself some milk from the jug and looked around the kitchen again. "I always wondered what it looked like in here," she confided.
Frodo looked around. "A lot barer than it used to," he said ruefully. "There's barely a bite in the house! But we'll have those larders filled in no time."
The baby stirred and Frodo lifted his hand and stroked his belly, soothing him back to sleep.
Rosie nodded at the sleeping babe. "Folk are spreadin' the strangest gossip about him," she said daringly. "The things they're sayin!"
"I can imagine," Frodo said, smoothing the blue blanket over the baby's chest and lingering to touch his pointed chin softly.
"But then you must be used to that," Rosie mused, sipping at her tea. "Why, you should of heard the things folk said about you and Sam the first time he took off with you!"
Frodo raised a curious brow. "About us?"
"Well, even before then really. Folk seemed to think you and him was too close, you know? For master and servant."
Frodo's face was still and Rosie put her cup back into the saucer nervously, wondering if she'd said too much. Then his lips curved a little and he shook his head.
"Fancy that."
"Didn't you know?" she asked, surprised.
Frodo shrugged. "It never occurred to me. Sam and I were just friends back then. I wonder why that surprised folk so much?"
"Well, all this for one." Rosie said, indicating the room. "Sam and me, we come from different kind of folk, beggin' your pardon. Nothing like this grand house and all."
Frodo followed her gaze around the room. "I didn't do anything to earn all this, Rosie," he told her honestly. "My parents didn't even have their own home, they were living with family when I was young. And when they died I was just an orphan, passed from relative to relative."
Rosie listened, eyes wide. She knew Mr. Frodo had been orphaned young, but she'd never heard any of this before.
"If Bilbo hadn't taken me in and made me his heir I'd be working for my living now, just as Sam has always done. So I've never really felt the differences between us that he has."
"Oh," Rosie said in wonder, taking another sip of her tea. "I never knew all that."
Frodo shrugged. "I've been lucky in the people who love me."
Rosie thought of Sam's devotion, so often the cause of bitter resentment in her and she was forced to agree. She studied Mr. Frodo as he sat pensively drinking his tea. What was there about him that inspired such loyalty?
"If folk talked when we left the first time, what must they have said the second?" Frodo wondered.
"Oh, Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin made sure everyone knew why you went off," she told him. "That you'd been hurt somethin' terrible savin' the world and all."
Frodo flushed and closed his eyes in embarrassment. "Is that what they said?"
Rosie nodded. "Aye. The stories they told! You wouldn't believe it!" Then she put her hand to her mouth and giggled. "What am I sayin'? Of course you would, you were there!"
Frodo chuckled with her, shaking his head. "Don't mix me up in their tales! We weren't together all the time. Sam and I had to go off alone." His smile faded and he looked down into his cup.
"Course you did," Rosie said a little tartly. "As if Sam would let you go off without him."
Frodo looked up at her and there was something in his eyes that bought a flush to her cheeks. She squirmed a little, regretting her sarcasm.
"You're right, Rosie," he said quietly. "Sam wouldn't let me go off without him."
"No, he never did," she retorted, not liking the way he was making her feel. "Never mind the gossip or those he left behind, if you wanted him to go then off Sam went." She subsided, realizing her hands were clenched around her cup. She unbent her fingers and laid her hands in her lap.
"Yes," Frodo agreed simply. "He did. Although to be fair I'm not sure Sam knew or cared about the gossip. Why should he, there was no truth to it back then."
And something about the way he said it suddenly hit Rosie. She frowned.
Back then?
Suddenly the cozy kitchen seemed too close, too small and Rosie pushed her chair back and stood. "Thank you for the tea," she said politely. "I might see if I can meet Sam in the lane."
Frodo smiled up at her. "It was nice to see you again, Rosie."
888
Back in the laneway Rosie blew a breath out with a puff. What had she been doing, leaping up and running off like a startled hare? What must Mr. Frodo think of her? She forced herself to take a few deep breaths. Mr. Frodo had just been chatting, that's all. He hadn't meant anything by his idle words.
Back then.
And yet now that she thought about it his words hadn't sounded idle. He'd said it twice, she recalled, and there had been a gentle look in his eyes as if he were trying to tell her something.
The afternoon was cooling, the breeze was gentle on her face and on impulse Rosie began to walk faster and faster, feet slapping in the dust, arms swinging. It felt good to move, to feel the breeze hit her flushed face and she increased speed and began to run. She ran as she hadn't since she was child, flat out, head down, hair streaming behind her.
She sensed rather than saw the obstacle in front of her and tried to stop, but she was too late, big hands came out to stop her and a basket spilled at her feet, tiny garments scattering in the dust.
"Rosie?" A dear familiar voice said in concern and Rosie looked up and saw Sam's face, no different than it had been a year before when he turned and walked out of her life.
"Rosie, what on earth are you running from?"
Sam's hands were on her arms and Rosie bowed her head and breathed, pushing tumbled curls off her brow. "You've dropped your basket," she panted, hands on her hips as she breathed.
"Never mind that," Sam dismissed and Rosie looked up into concerned hazel eyes. She'd forgotten how tall he was, how broad! And how kind his eyes could be. "Why were you running?" He glanced suspiciously over her shoulder at the lane behind her. "Was someone chasin' you?"
Rosie couldn't help smiling at his concern. "No," she said, tucking her hair back behind her ears, suddenly realizing how untidy it must be. "I was just runnin' is all."
"You surely were," Sam chuckled, letting go of her arms and stepping back, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they did when he laughed. "You looked just like you did when you were a nipper runnin' wild in these fields, all of us together!" He nodded to the long green grass, his smile widening. "Remember?"
Her heart clenched in her breast and her arms felt cold where his warmth had held her. "I remember you and Tom runnin'," she said shakily. "And me and Marigold tagging along after you, wantin' to join your games."
Sam's smile died and he frowned at her, face concerned. "Rosie?"
"You was always pirates and elves and adventurers and such like. But there was no room in your games for girls, you said. And then you'd run off and leave us behind."
"You sure you're all right?"
Rosie shook her head and huffed a rueful laugh. "Pay me no mind, Sam, my head's all over the place today." She glanced down at her feet. "Let me help you."
They knelt together and picked up the clothes and napkins, shaking the pale fine dust from them and laying them back in the basket. Rosie picked up a little blue shirt and stood, holding it out and admiring it.
"This will suit his golden curls," she said, stroking the smocking around the neck.
Sam glanced at her in surprise. "How do you know his hair is golden?"
"I've just been to Bag End," Rosie admitted. "I saw Mr. Frodo and the baby."
Sam turned his head and looked curiously at her and she felt her heart skip a beat again. Not brown, hazel. How had she forgotten the shade of his eyes?
"Did you?" he said as she tried to catch her breath.
"He told me you found that cure you were looking for with the elves." Rosie regained her composure. "I was glad to hear it, Sam, truly. He sure was looking poorly when you took him off."
"He's all better now," Sam said with a smile.
"So he said." Rosie looked down at her dusty toes. " It's been weighing real heavy on me, Sam, the way I let you leave, without even a good bye. I'm sorry for that."
Sam smiled at her, his eyes warm. "You don't have anything to be sorry about, Rosie."
Rosie smiled back tentatively, wondering if this was the moment she'd been waiting for without even realizing it for the last year. Every time she walked out with a lad and they started getting sweet on her she'd find herself holding back, just a little. As though part of her knew she had unfinished business before she could move on.
She held her breath, wondering if Sam was going to lean over and kiss her, the way she'd wanted him to ever since he walked back into her life so many months before.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he just shook his head, before he turned and kept walking down the lane.
Unaccountably disappointed, Rosie stood for a moment, fighting her fears. Why had he let that moment pass?
"Daisy tells me the Shire's had a wonderful year," Sam said conversationally and Rosie shrugged off her disappointment and fell back into step beside him.
"Aye," she said, casting him a small sidelong glance at the change of subject. "Thanks to you and your friends ridin' back the way you did. It's like the whole Shire was holdin' its breath and waitin' for somethin' to happen! And then you all came home and made it happen." She cast him a shy glance. "Folk still talk about you all."
Sam huffed a laugh. "No doubt Merry and Pippin have somethin' to do with that!"
Rosie marveled how at ease Sam was calling Mr. Frodo's grand cousins by name. Why, Mr. Merry would be Master of Buckland one day, and Mr. Pippin would be the Thain, although that was a little harder to believe. Last time she'd seen him he'd given her a right saucy wink that had made her giggle all afternoon remembering it.
"They have been to and fro a lot, gettin' Bag End back into shape." She cast his absorbed face another look. He was smiling as he looked around him, curling his toes on the ground as if even the feel of the dirt path was making him happy. "You're glad to be home," she said surely.
Sam smiled his delight. "It's all I've wanted for months," he confided. "Don't get me wrong, the elves of Rivendell treated us like honored guests, we wanted for nowt. But it's not the same as your own hearth, is it? Your own chair and bed at night." And he ducked his head and flushed a little again.
"But you're not quite home yet, are you? You're still stayin' at Bag End."
Sam turned his head and looked at her. "Bag End is my home now too, Rosie," he said simply.
"Your home? You mean you're stayin' there for good?"
Sam nodded and then he took a deep breath. "I am. I'm stayin' with Frodo."
Rosie absorbed this. "For ever?" she said, trying to get it clear in her head.
"Yes."
"Oh."
They continued side by side down the lane, Rosie casting glances at Sam now and then from the corner of her eye.
"Does Mr. Frodo still need you to look after him then, Sam?" she asked tentatively.
"No, I don't work for Frodo any more, Rosie, it's not like that. Frodo and I are just making our home together now." Sam stopped and sighed a breath. He turned to face her. "We're making our life together now."
Rosie blinked in surprise at his clear gaze, the direct honesty in his eyes.
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because we love each other," Sam said simply.
There was silence for a long moment as Rosie stared at him, blinking her surprise.
"Well." Rosie took a shaky breath then swallowed. "Well, you've always loved each another, Sam, I know that."
Sam tilted his head in surprise.
"Well of course I know that," Rosie said, huffing out a stronger breath. "I mean, when Mr. Frodo needed you to go with him that first time you shrugged off the Shire like a worn coat to follow him. And when he needed healin' you left us all behind again to take him away. I always knew you loved him."
"I did," Sam admitted. "I did love him. And now I'm in love with him too."
"Oh," Rosie said numbly, wrapping her arms about her waist as this sunk in. "How is that love different? What's changed?"
Sam looked shyly down at the basket in his arms and then back up at her. "I'm not real good with words, Rosie. I wish I could explain. It just has changed is all."
His eyes darted away from hers again and instincts Rosie didn't know she had screamed at her. She shook her head in disbelief.
"He took you to his bed, didn't he?" she gasped.
Sam drew in a surprised breath, his cheeks reddening. "I think I'd better go," he said quietly.
"No, wait," Rosie said, putting out her hand and catching his arm. It was warm under her fingers, the fine hairs soft. "I'm sorry, Sam! You just caught me by surprise is all. Please don't go."
Sam was biting his lip. "I think I should."
Rosie squeezed his arm. "Please, Sam, I want to understand this. I need to understand."
"I don't know as I can help you understand," Sam said helplessly. "I don't know how to explain that lovin' Frodo doesn't depend on what bed I'm in." He lifted his troubled gaze and shrugged.
Rosie felt a rush of tears to her eyes at his words but she blinked them away. She didn't want to cry now, this was all too important. She felt as if there was something here, some truth just out of reach, and if she could find it, understand it, then maybe she could make sense of all this.
"I shouldn't of asked that," she said evenly. "But I need to know something, Sam. Just one thing."
Sam nodded, eyes down.
"It wasn't all in my head last year, was it? There was a moment between you and me when we had a future." Rosie squeezed Sam's arm urgently. "Wasn't there?"
Sam laid his hand over hers and held her fingers gently.
"I reckon there was," he admitted softly.
Taking strength from his words Rosie took a step closer. "And if you hadn't gone and left me behind again there still would be now, wouldn't there?"
Sam gently squeezed her fingers and then stepped back, separating them.
"I don't know, Rosie," he said lowly. "I don't know what would have happened. I just know how I feel now."
"So it's not too late for us," Rosie said urgently. "It don't matter to me what happened while you were away, that's over and done. You was lonely and far from home, Sam, and you fell into the arms of someone you love. I can understand that. But you're back now and you and I can make a go of things."
Sam was shaking his head but she kept speaking, desperate to make him understand, knowing this was her last chance.
"Look, Sam, I've always known he come first with you. Haven't I spent a long cold year learning that lesson? I expected him to come first with you all our lives. Just as long as there was room for me there I was content."
"Oh, Rosie." Sam stared at her aghast. "Did you really expect to come second to anyone? You deserve so much better'n that, love."
"I know I do!" Rosie exclaimed, fists clenched. "Do you think I don't know that? Why else wouldn't I reach out my hand to you back then, before you ever went away? I wanted to be all and everything to the hobbit I wed."
"And I'm sure you will be," Sam said quietly. "You should be. But that hobbit won't be me."
"Because Mr. Frodo reached out his hand," Rosie said bitterly. "Greedy's what I call it. He had every other part of you, Sam, he had to have that too? He couldn't leave me anything?"
Sam lowered his eyes, his fingers where they clutched the basket were white.
"Rosie," he began sadly.
"I thought this at least was something I had that he couldn't give you," she finished in a rough whisper.
Sam shook his head helplessly. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way."
Suddenly Rosie couldn't take this any more. Had she really thought she was fighting a battle for Sam's affections? The truth was Frodo had already won, hands down. There was no doubt in her mind who had begun this, who had made the choices. There was no doubt in her mind that if Frodo had made another choice then she and Sam would be in each other's arms now.
It was painful to accept that she would have settled for that. It was even more painful to accept that now she didn't have to. Sam belonged to Frodo now, in every way there was. He would never belong to her.
"I've work to do at home," she said as evenly as she could, stepping back and away.
Sam made no move to stop her, he didn't speak. What was there left for the two of them to say?
They stood on the path for a small while, just looking at each other.
Why, I think he's saying good bye to me in his head, Rosie thought. Just as I am to him. Did he once have dreams about us too? Was there even the smallest part of him that doubted his choice?
Sam nodded to her and then he really was turning and walking away, as he had so many times already. And Rosie found herself biting her lip to stop from doing what she should have done those other times he left her behind, to call out and ask him to stop.
It was too late for that.
888
Aunt Ruby found her out back feeding the chickens and stood leaning on the fence for long minutes as Rosie clicked under her breath and scattered corn. She knew her nose was red and her eyes a little swollen from tears and she kept her head turned away as she fussed about, filling the dishes with feed and grit. Finally Ruby spoke up.
"Your dad just got an invite to a party over at Bag End," she said idly. "Lily's already making a fuss about what to wear, and what to cook to bring along."
Rosie dusted her hands off and leaned on the wire, looking down over the farm with blank eyes.
"Me and Will are included in the invite, but I thought I might just stay home that evening. Have a nice quiet time in an empty house. If you like, you could stay with me?"
Rosie blinked a few times and looked around, not quite meeting her aunt's eyes. "You love parties."
Ruby shrugged carelessly. "Me? I can take or leave them."
Rosie turned around fully and surveyed her aunt's innocent face. "You love to drag Uncle Will up to dance and you're dying to get a good look at that baby!" she accused, sniffing and smiling. "You wouldn't miss it for the world!"
Ruby rolled her eyes. "And what about you? You're a pretty good dancer too. Will you be going?"
Rosie pushed trembling fingers deep into her apron pocket. She remembered sitting happily at Mr. Frodo's table that morning, chatting about Sam and her face grew hot. Go to their party? Face Mr. Frodo again?
"Darn right I will," she said firmly. "And I'll dance every dance and drink a toast to their health and I'll do it all with a smile on my face!"
"Good lass,' her aunt beamed approvingly. "And you just wait. Keep that smile up long enough and it'll become real. Dance with enough lads and the right one will come along, you mark my words."
Rosie's stubborn look faded. "You know what, Aunty? I think the right one's already been along," she said quietly. "But he kept right on goin'. And left me far behind him."
"It's his loss," her aunt said loyally and Rosie gave her a watery smile.
"It is," she agreed. "I know it is. And I should be glad, right? That I finally know where I stand?"
Ruby just watched her, eyes sympathetic.
Tears finally began to fall and her aunt reached over and patted her back, comforting her with her strong work worn hands.
"But I don't feel glad," Rosie sobbed. "I don't feel very glad at all."
"There, there, my lass," he aunt soothed. "There's plenty of lads out there who know a good thing when they see it. And who knows? That fool might open his eyes and see what he's lost, given a bit more time."
Rosie sniffed and scrubbed her eyes with her apron. "Oh, no, I've given Sam Gamgee all the time he's gettin' from me! Besides, he's made his choice." Rosie puffed out a cynical breath. "Or rather Mr. Frodo made the choice. And you know what I think? If Frodo had made another choice it'd be me and Sam dancin' at this party, and no mistake!"
"Well, would you have still wanted him if..." Ruby broke off and her eyes grew wide. "Did you say Frodo?"
Rosie snorted a laugh and smoothed her apron down. "Aye, Aunty," she said, slipping through the gate and locking it behind her. "That's what I said."
Ruby's mouth was opening and closing. "Mr. Frodo?"
Rosie wrapped an arm around her aunt's waist and hugged her. "Glad I'm not the only one surprised."
"Oh you won't be!" Ruby said, the light of good gossip igniting in her eyes. "Oh my goodness no!"
Rosie leaned her head fondly on her aunt's shoulder, and Ruby patted her with one work worn hand. "You'll be all right," Ruby predicted and Rosie sighed.
"Not got much choice," Rosie agreed. "Now." She straightened up determinedly. "What am I going to wear?"
888
Frodo lay Fael down on his belly on the sheepskin, arms tucked under his chest, chuckling with delight as his little head lifted and he kicked his toes against the softness. "Does that feel good, Fael?"
Tiny fingers grasped the sheepskin and Fael bobbed his head enthusiastically. Frodo sat down beside him and tilted his head back, enjoying the sunshine and the feeling of good health that always washed over him when outside. It was like he was connected now, to the blue sky and the good earth below him, and he wondered if Fael felt the same. The little one always seemed extra lively in the sunshine.
Slow footsteps tramped up the lane and Frodo knelt up and watched as Sam walked towards the gate, head down, laden basket over one arm. Frodo felt his heart sink.
"You look as if you're carrying the weight of the world along with those baby clothes," Frodo said, trying to keep his voice light. He sprang up and opened the gate. "Daisy bend your ear again?"
Sam laid the basket down and sat on Frodo's blanket with a weary sigh. "No more'n usual," he said with a tired smile and Frodo sat by him, feeling helpless.
"Sam?"
"I met Rosie in the lane," Sam said quietly.
"She was here earlier," Frodo revealed. "She's very nice." He studied Sam's face worriedly, feeling his heart ache at the sadness there. "It doesn't make it any easier."
Sam heaved a sigh. "I hurt her feelings."
Frodo tentatively reached out his hand and felt a little relieved when Sam took his fingers and squeezed them.
"It was bound to hurt a little," Frodo ventured. "If she still cared for you."
Sam nodded, eyes still cast down.
"And-and hurt you too," Frodo said softly. "If you still have feelings for her."
"I don't," Sam said, looking up and smiling reassuringly. Frodo smiled back as well as he could manage. "But she was in my heart a long time. And if things had been different..." He played with Frodo's hand, gently tracing the poor stump of his mutilated finger. "She still wants me," he confided quietly. "Even knowing about you and me."
"Oh." Frodo looked at their linked hands, hating the jealousy and doubt that filled his heart. "What did you tell her?"
"What do you think I told her?" Sam said, looking at him in astonishment. Then his face softened into concern. "Frodo? What's wrong, love?"
"Oh, Sam," Frodo said, his hands feeling ice cold in Sam's strong grip. "Did you... Are you... Do you have any regrets?"
"Of course not!" Sam exclaimed. "What a question to ask!"
Frodo felt a little of his tension ease at how sure Sam sounded. "You loved her once," he whispered.
Sam shook his head firmly. "I never loved her, Frodo. I've only ever loved you."
"But you said she was in your heart?"
"And so she was, once. But if I'd ever loved her, really loved her the way I do you, then I'd be with her now. Because I think I'm the type that only loves one person in their whole life, Frodo, and that's you." He gazed into Frodo's eyes and smiled tenderly. "It's always been you."
Frodo smiled back tremulously. "It has?"
Sam lifted Frodo's hand and laid a gentle kiss on it and Frodo followed the tender movement, smiling tearfully. "I have been a bit worried, Sam," he confessed thickly. "That you might still have feelings for her."
"You really have been worried haven't you?" Sam said in wonder. He shook his head. "Oh, Frodo. How long have you been frettin' about this?"
Frodo looked down at the linked hands, feeling a flush of embarrassment on his face. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just that I've never had anyone in my heart but you. So I don't know how this feels for you. I just know that the thought that you and her-"
"There is no me and her," Sam chided, reaching out and pulling Frodo under his arm. "There might of been once, you know that. But it was a long time ago for me. Think on how much has changed since then. Think how much we've been through together. Do you think anythin' or anyone in this world could drag me from your side now?"
And Frodo did think, and remember. And he relaxed finally into Sam's warm embrace. "I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered. "Have I been a jealous fool?"
Sam kissed his temple. "No. I can't say I'd like the idea of someone from your past showin' up in your life." He slanted Frodo a crooked little glance. "I know how awful it is to be jealous. I only have to remember how I feel when I think of those you knew before me."
Frodo sensed a dangerous subject. "Been jealous too, have you?" he said lightly.
"Aye. After all, Frodo, you know I've never been with anyone but you. But I have to wonder who you've been with."
"I don't even remember them, love," Frodo said, sliding his arm around Sam's sturdy waist under his waistcoat.
"Hmm, good answer," Sam said skeptically,
"And the only one you're likely to get," Frodo said pertly, feeling his jealously fade. After all, he was the one Sam had chosen in the end, it was by his side that Sam would spend the rest of his days. He lay his head on Sam's shoulder.
"Nearly feeding time," Sam said and Frodo opened his eyes and blinked down at Fael, laying on his back kicking on his sheepskin, little fists waving.
"Did you turn him over, Sam?" Frodo asked.
"I've not touched him," Sam returned.
"He's turned himself over!" Frodo said in excitement, everything else forgotten. "I lay him on his front and he must have rolled himself over."
"See if he'll do it again," Sam said eagerly and Frodo picked him up and laid him back on his front, arms under his chest. Fael lifted his head a little and then decided he preferred looking up at the sky, with a strong twist he was over on his back, toes pointing.
"Did you see that!" Sam said proudly. He leaned over Fael and kissed one round cheek soundly. The baby reached up and latched onto his nose and Frodo threw back his head and laughed.
Sam patiently let the little fingers explore him, kissing them when they reached his lips. He gazed into his son's wide blue eyes and Frodo felt his heart melting at the sight. The two people he loved best in all the world smiled into each other's eyes and then Sam tilted his head and invited him down by their side. Frodo propped his head on his arm and lay on the sheepskin, stroking Fael's tummy gently.
"Did you really ask me if I had any regrets, love?" Sam chided softly, resting on one elbow.
"I didn't know what to think," Frodo confessed, lifting his spread hand. Sam met it with his and locked their fingers together. "You looked so sad."
"I was sad," Sam said honestly. "To tell you true I didn't know her feelings ran so deep. I don't think I handled it all very well."
"Well it's over and done now, Sam," Frodo said firmly. "In the end, you chose me, right?"
"In the end?" Sam said in disbelief. "It's been pointed out to me a few times just lately, Frodo, my love, that I've always chosen you. I chose you over my family, and over the Shire and Rosie too. Of course no one else is in my heart now. There's only room for you and Fael."
Frodo absorbed this, letting the truth of Sam's sincere words sink right in. He smiled tremulously and Sam smiled back.
Fael focused on their linked hands and reached out for them, small pink fingers waving. Frodo and Sam separated their hands long enough to engulf his tiny hand between theirs
Their circle was complete.
888
"What's this?" Pippin said curiously, lifting the basket up onto the table. He pulled out a small calico gown with roses embroidered on it and held it up to his chest.
Merry tilted his head and hummed thoughtfully. "Not really your color, Pip."
Pippin fluttered his eyes flirtatiously.
"My sister Daisy gave us some spare baby clothes." Sam explained. "I haven't had a chance to go through them yet." He reached into the basket and began pulling out clothes and nappies.
"That's nice," Frodo observed, nodding at a shirt with blue smocking around the neck.
Sam fingered the sturdy material sadly. "It'll go with his golden curls." He shot Frodo a look and then forced a smile, laying the shirt aside.
"How does he wear this then?" Pippin said, pulling out a quilted rectangle with two straps. He held it up in front of him then turned it upside down.
"If you try that on your head I'll ding you in the ear," Merry threatened. "Here, give it to me." He pulled it out of Pip's hands and threaded his hands through the straps. "It's a sling, see?"
"Let me try!" Pippin said eagerly and Merry slipped it off. "Put Fael in it, I want to carry him."
"Make sure the straps are tight enough," Sam said patiently, lifting Fael out of his basket.
Frodo watched with a smile as they placed Fael in the carrier and Pippin walked around the room, gesturing expansively to show how his arms were free. But under his smile he was watching Sam with concern, sensing his somber mood.
"Can I take him to the party in this?" Pippin asked, wrapping his arms around Fael's snug little form and kissing his head.
"It might be a good idea, actually," Merry observed, sitting back down at the table with his mug. "Everyone will want to hold him otherwise, they'll be passing him around all night."
"And you never know if someone might have the sniffles or something," Pippin added.
Sam was lost in thought again so Frodo answered. "So long as you don't smoke while you're carrying him," he allowed absently.
"No pipe," Pippin agreed. "Although I have two hands free, so I could certainly have a pipe in this hand and a mug in this one." He demonstrated, holding out both arms. "See! No hands!"
"All right," Frodo said firmly. "He's not a toy. Time for his feed anyway."
Sam blinked and jumped up. "Past time, it's a wonder he's not bellowing for it."
"Does anyone else notice how the lives of five grown hobbits now revolve entirely around that tiny little baby?" Bilbo said.
The other four hobbits looked at each other in surprise.
"Not really," Frodo returned.
"I hadn't noticed," Pippin said.
"Me either," Merry threw in.
Bilbo returned to his mug with a snort. "Oh, well, forget I said anything."
888
Frodo slipped his nightshirt over his head, running one hand through the tumbled curls. He checked Fael one last time and climbed into bed next to Sam, sitting cross legged by his side.
"It's all right to be sad, you know," Frodo said quietly. Sam looked up, startled out of his absorption. "You don't have to hide behind smiles to make me feel better."
"I wasn't," Sam denied unconvincingly.
Frodo laid his head on Sam's shoulder and Sam groaned softly.
"All right, maybe I was," he admitted. "I don't want you to worry that I'm broodin' about her is all."
"Because I got jealous before," Frodo said regretfully. He wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder. "Don't ever hide what you're feeling, Sam, especially to protect me. We've been all through this before, haven't we?"
Sam nodded sheepishly and Frodo pressed a fond kiss to his cheek.
"And it's all right if you feel bad. It can't be easy hurting someone you care about." Frodo said the words easily, glad he could be sincere. And after all, it was easy to be generous to the loser when you were the winner.
"I do feel bad," Sam admitted quietly. "It's not Rosie's fault that time changed us so much. But I also feel bad because, well, I don't see now how things could have been different. I'd have still loved you my life long, even if we'd never found this deeper bond between us."
Frodo studied Sam's dear, familiar, wonderful face in the lamplight. He remembered his words to Rosie Cotton just that morning, about how he'd always been lucky in the people who loved him. He never felt that was truer than here in Sam's arms.
Lifting his hand he took Sam's chin and turned his head. Sam raised a curious brow and Frodo leaned forward and laid a soft and tender kiss on his lips.
"I do love you, my Sam," he whispered.
Sam's ears pinkened and he smiled and wrinkled his nose. "Love you," he whispered back.
Frodo laid his head back on Sam's shoulder contentedly. "You know, Sam, Gandalf told me something once that comforts me now, although I didn't feel it at the time."
"Mmm?"
"He said there are great forces at work in the world, and that sometimes things work out just the way they were meant to. So all the danger and pain that we went through brought us together in the end, and that makes the memories easier to bear."
Sam lay his cheek on Frodo's hair, listening intently.
"And all the darkness we suffered led us to the light and gave us Fael, and we could never be anything but glad about that."
"True enough," Sam agreed stoutly. "Also it helped save the world, which was good."
"So it worked out for everybody," Frodo returned smartly, and then the two hobbits began to chuckle.
Frodo squeezed Sam's shaking shoulders. "My point, love, is that this is how things were meant to be. Even for young Rosie."
Sam sobered. "You mean she'll find the person she was meant to be with, as we did?"
"Of course she will," Frodo said firmly. He slanted Sam a teasing look. "She'll find her perfect match and one day she'll look back and say; 'Just think! I might have married that Sam Gamgee! What a lucky escape!'"
"Oy!" Sam exclaimed with a snort of laughter, tumbling Frodo back onto the bed. "That that back!"
"Never!" Frodo declared, then dissolved into actual giggles as Sam attacked his neck with his lips, pressing a suckling kiss there that was sure to leave a mark.
"Sam, don't you dare!" Frodo warned breathlessly, grabbing Sam's ears and tugging.
Sam lifted his head. "Oh, but I must," he teased. "Then his grin faded and he stared down into Frodo's laughing eyes.
Frodo felt his own smile fading as Sam's sturdy body pressed him down into the mattress and Sam's hands gentled on his shoulders.
Frodo stroked Sam's ears and cupped his face, pulling gently until their lips were just a breath apart. "I take it back," he whispered, and then their lips were touching, Sam's head slanting as he pressed his kiss deeper. Their tongues stroked, their breaths coming faster.
And then they jerked apart as Fael began to cry, mewls of displeasure swiftly becoming wails.
Sam rested his forehead against Frodo's, panting.
"Oh, bother," he groaned.
Frodo collapsed back onto his pillow as Sam climbed out of bed and picked Fael up.
"So some things work out just how they were meant to, love?" Sam asked ruefully, cradling their baby and rocking him against his chest.
Frodo snorted and then climbed out of bed to fetch the milk.
"And we wouldn't have it any other way."
To Be Continued!
