Traveler 6
Shadows In The Night
by Gillian
June 1421 S.R
The market day stalls were already doing a brisk trade by the time they arrived and Frodo sniffed appreciatively.
"Old Hal's pies smell as good as ever." He shifted his basket, hearing the reassuring jingle of coin in his purse. "I hope he has some of those egg and bacon tarts Bilbo likes so much."
"Bilbo likes?" Sam said pointedly, patting Fael up on his back. The five month old was gumming happily on a hard rusk, drooling down his chin and onto his already soaked bib. Sam automatically wiped at the drool and Fael shifted his rusk and gave him a happy smile. Sam smiled back and kissed his curly head.
Frodo just chuckled. "That we all like," he amended. "Might as well take some home for morning tea. Look, there's Daisy. Hie, Daisy!" he called.
"Morning, lads." Daisy trotted up, a gaggle of children behind her. "Bluebell, here's a penny. Go buy a bun each for the four of you."
"Ta, mam!" Blue enthused, taking hands and racing off.
Daisy shifted her youngest in her arms while a toddler clung to her apron and leaned against her legs, peering up at them with a thumb firmly in his mouth. "Mr. Bilbo not with you this morning?"
"He's sleeping in." Frodo explained. "He doesn't do much else these days."
"A sleep in sounds just fine to me." Daisy blew a curl out her eye wearily. But her eyes shone and her smile was sunny as she nodded at Fael. "And how's your lad? Teething?"
"Just drooling," Sam said resignedly, wiping Fael's chin again.
"Ah, well, one follows t'other," Daisy said wisely. "Started him on solids yet?"
Frodo exchanged a small glance with Sam. "Just about to, actually," he ventured. "Umm, not sure where to start though."
Daisy grinned and then chuckled. "You lads only have to ask, you know. I'm happy to give advice to new parents."
"Too happy," Sam muttered.
"Mind yourself," Daisy warned, pinching his ear. "Start with yogurt, Frodo, but don't sweeten it. If you start off with sweet things a babby'll never want owt else."
Frodo nodded and listened while Daisy did what she did best and doled out advice. He was glad of it actually, the mysteries of teething and rashes seemed to be something mothers kept to themselves, like some kind of ancient lore. It wasn't written down anywhere, just passed from mother to daughter apparently, leaving fathers pretty far out of the picture. Poor Fael only had two fathers, and more useless uncles than he needed.
"And no honey," Daisy finished sternly. "I've seen babbies sicken from it, though it does no harm to childer."
Frodo raised his brow in alarm. "I'm glad you told me that," he exclaimed. "Honestly, how's a fellow to know things like that?"
"Any other dangers lurkin' in our pantry?" Sam asked impatiently. "No? So can we shop, d'you think? This lad's not gettin' any lighter and I'd like to get to them pies before Old Hal's sold out."
"You just come to tea on Sunday, lads," Daisy invited, shifting Holly in her arms as the youngster reached out and tried to touch Fael. "And I'll give you some more good advice. No, my lass," she said as Holly's face screwed up. "Fael doesn't want his cousin pulling his curls off. She's a terrible one for hair pulling, this doll of mine," she confided fondly.
Frodo petted Holly's golden curls affectionately and she smiled up at him and showed him a row of neat white teeth. "Dodo," she lisped.
"I think that's meant to be Frodo," Daisy said doubtfully, then she smiled proudly. "She's a talker too!"
Frodo politely refrained from the obvious comment and Sam was too impatient to be away to bite. "You shouldn't let her talk your ear off, Frodo," he chided as they made their escape.
"But that was some good advice she was handing out, Sam." Frodo smiled at a neighbour. "Who would have thought not to give honey to a baby?"
"Doesn't sound right to me," Sam said absently, waving at the baker. "Hie, Hal! Those pies of yours drew us here all the way from Bag End!"
"Get away with you," Old Hal chuckled, fanning the flies away from his wares with a practised motion. "You haven't changed since you were a nipper mooning around with big eyes."
"I still crave your pies, if that's what you mean," Sam returned with a smile.
They chose their wares and wandered through the stalls, picking and choosing from the finest the market had to offer. Frodo's basket was full and his purse considerably lighter when they found themselves outside the pub.
"Sit down," Sam ordered and Frodo collapsed back on a bench and laid his basket down gratefully. "You take this one and I'll nip in and get us something cool before we walk home."
Frodo accepted the baby, wiping at his chin and removing the disgusting remains of the rusk from his plump little fist. "Ugh." Frodo dropped the soggy mess in the basket and cleaned the flexing fingers with the bib. "How're those gums of yours?"
He slipped a finger in Fael's mouth and explored the hard little gums. The baby grimaced and then bit down, chewing his father's finger blissfully. "I wish someone would write a book," Frodo sighed, letting the baby gum him happily. "So I'd know what I'm doing."
"Mr. Frodo might have heard."
Frodo pricked up his ears and turned to see Sam's father, Tom Cotton and a few others sitting around a table nodding towards him.
"Heard what?" Sam said as he emerged from the pub, two mugs and a cup in his hands. "I bought half a cup of lemonade for the baby," he said, laying his burden down and sitting on the bench.
"There's a party of elves, Sam," his dad explained. "In Bindbale Woods. Been there two days, so Minto Burrows says."
"Elves!" Frodo exclaimed, mug halfway to his lips. "Minto saw them?"
"Saw them and spoke to them, which is rare enough," the Gaffer confirmed. "But these fellows aren't passing through, they're staying put."
"Did they tell him why?" Sam asked curiously, wiping foam from his lip.
"They said nowt but warned him away from their camp."
Frodo took a sip of his shandy and shook his head thoughtfully. "It's a curious thing," he admitted. "Even passing through elves aren't usually seen, unless they want to be. But to stop and camp..."
"P'haps there's trouble?" Farmer Cotton broached. "Elves have troubles like the rest of us, don't they?"
"Someone might be sick," his son agreed. "Or hurt."
Frodo lifted the cup of lemonade to Fael's lips and the baby slurped at it eagerly, most slopping down his chin to be absorbed by his long suffering bib.
"If elves have their own troubles they also have their own ways of sortin' them." Sam drained his shandy with a sigh. "Best thing hobbits can do is leave them to it."
"All the same, there might be something we can do to help." Fael's little hands wavered trying to grasp the cup and Frodo guided them around it and held it steady while the baby slurped another mouthful. "Perhaps we should take a stroll over there this afternoon and chat with them?"
"You do speak their lingo, Frodo," Tom said. "And we owe the elves somethin' after all."
"But your cousin Minto's over by Oatbarton side of the Wood," Sam protested. "It's a longer walk than an afternoon, if you figure on there and back."
"Well first thing in the morning then." Fael finished the cup and smacked his lips together happily. Frodo took the chance to sip at his own mug. "We could take a lunch and make a day of it."
"Might be they'll have moved on by the time you get there and no harm done," Farmer Cotton pointed out.
Sam peered up at the endless blue sky of the June afternoon, the morning was already well advanced, the sun hot. "I suppose it's a nice enough time for a hike," he mused.
"Be nice to have the free time to take a day's hike," Farmer Cotton said, standing up and slapping the knees of his sturdy britches. "Come on, lads," he said to his sons. "Time we were away home."
They waved them off and Frodo finished his shandy. "I suppose we'd better be off too." He shifted Fael and the baby leaned his head against his shoulder and yawned. "Oh no you don't, my lad," Frodo warned. "You're not sleeping all the way home to wake bright eyed and bushy tailed the minute we walk in the door."
"Figurin' out this parent stuff?" the Gaffer chuckled around his pipe.
"We're gettin' there, da."
"That reminds me, have you seen our Daisy? I'm to tell her to drop in on May this afternoon."
"Is she all right?" Frodo asked in concern.
"She's well enough." Ham shook his head worriedly. "But the leech has confined her to her bed till the babby comes."
Now Frodo felt real alarm and he unconsciously tightened his grip on the dozing baby. "That sounds serious! Why?"
The Gaffer shifted uncomfortably. "Some lasses business," he muttered. "Not our concern."
"I'll drop in and see her this afternoon," Frodo decided. "I remember what it was like being confined to a bed."
"From when he was ill," Sam interjected hastily. "Back in Minas Tirith."
"That's what I meant," Frodo said pointedly. He smiled at the Gaffer. "From when I was ill."
Sam's father grunted.
888
"All right, yogurt and a bowl of cereal. No honey." Frodo stood back and surveyed his preparations.
Following Daisy's advice Sam had a bath sheet covering him and Fael was wearing only a napkin. Held securely on Sam's lap he was industriously gumming the fingers of one hand while the other tugged at his ear.
"Here goes." Sam dipped the spoon into the yogurt and slipped it between Fael's lips. The baby screwed his face up at the unfamiliar sensation in his mouth and poked out his tongue, delivering most of the spoonful back out again.
"I don't think he likes it," Frodo said.
"Early days yet," Sam said gamely, trying another spoonful. This time Fael rolled it around in his mouth for a few moments before screwing his face up again and spitting it back out.
"Maybe we should try the cereal?" Frodo said, wiping used yogurt from Sam's chin.
"Once more." Sam took a spoonful and put it in his own mouth, swallowing it down and making a broad happy face. "Num num!" he exclaimed. Fael's tongue was out again as he obviously pondered the taste still in his mouth. "Your turn, Fael."
One more spoonful into the baby's mouth. This time Fael swallowed most of it down, only drooling up a tiny amount from the corner of his mouth.
"Success!" Frodo cheered and Sam bussed an already sticky cheek.
"That's my lad!" he said proudly, then delivered another spoonful. Fael still spat the occasional mouthful out, but eventually finished half the bowl before he decided he'd had enough. His proud parents judged the whole affair a huge success.
"We need to think about a high chair for him," Sam mused, wiping the baby down.
Frodo passed him a light shirt and Sam tugged it onto the squirming baby. "Maybe your dad has an old one stored away too?" he said hopefully.
"I doubt it. I'm sure I can knock one together."
"Hmm."
Sam laced Fael's shirt and quirked a brow at Frodo. "You don't think I can do it, do you?"
Frodo leaned over and kissed his cheek, tasting a missed spot of yogurt. "I think you can do anything," he said, widening his eyes in admiration.
Sam huffed a laugh. "I'll show you," he said firmly. "No baby in the Shire will have a finer high chair."
"So long as all its legs stay on I shall be happy," Frodo declared, then skipped out of the way of pinching fingers.
"I smell my favourite pie," Bilbo said, shuffling into the room.
Frodo helped him into the soft armchair they now kept in the kitchen and made him up a plateful of lunch. "Bilbo, Sam and I will be away all day tomorrow." He told his uncle about the elves in the wood and the old hobbit ate and listened, nodding his head.
"It is a curious thing," he agreed. "You should go, talk to them. It might be that they'll simply order you off like they did Minto. If they do then leave them to their business."
"Will you be all right for a day alone?" Frodo asked and Bilbo snorted.
"I should think I'll survive."
"All the same, I'll ask Tom to stick his head around the door at lunchtime," Sam said quietly once Bilbo had shuffled off to his study.
Frodo nodded sadly. "Every day it's like he diminishes. He spends more time asleep than awake."
"He's barely eating too," Sam agreed, indicating the remains on Bilbo's plate. "Didn't even finish his seconds, when he'd usually polish off thirds."
Fael had his rattle in his hand and Frodo tugged it away from his mouth and shook it gently. "He asked me about his old ring the other day," he said quietly.
Sam stroked his arm sympathetically and Frodo gave him a sad smile. "Seemed content enough when I told him I'd lost it, but still. It all makes it easier in a way."
"Easier?"
"Letting him go." Frodo hugged his baby to him and kissed his curly crown. "He's ready, I can see that. I'll be sad to lose him, but happy for him. He's ready to go."
Outside the afternoon drowsed, fat bumblebees hovering over heavy headed flowers. Sam stroked Frodo's arm again and they rested their heads together for a little while.
"I need to do some diggin'," Sam finally said reluctantly, pushing away from the table. "Want to help?"
Frodo shook off his pensive mood. "I want to visit May," he reminded Sam. "I've some gifts for her to help pass the time. Will you watch Fael?"
"I'll bring a rug and settle him down on it. He'll be fine while I work."
888
The front door of May and Rory's hole was wide open to catch a stray breeze and Frodo stuck his head in and called a soft greeting, hoping May wasn't napping. A call came from inside.
"Come in, Frodo! I could do with a friendly face!"
Frodo entered the cool dimness gratefully and peeked his head around a bedroom door. "Have there been unfriendly faces I should worry about?" he grinned.
"Any face at all then," May amended, laying aside her knitting and holding out her hand. Frodo crossed the room and took a seat by the wide bed, grasping her hand and squeezing it.
"You look very well," he admired and May snorted.
"You are a charmer." She shook her head but smiled anyway. "Do you tell pretty lies to our Sam like that?"
"Only about his carpentry skills."
May covered her mouth and giggled. "Oh, it is good of you to visit, Frodo!" she exclaimed. "I just know I'm going to go out of my mind with boredom stuck in bed all day."
"I remember that feeling from when I was confined to my bed," Frodo said sympathetically. "And I also remember how glad I was not to be left alone and bored all day. So I come bearing gifts." He pulled a covered plate from his basket and laid it on her lap.
May inhaled. "Mmm, your pumpkin scones! Sam never stops boastin' about them."
"And rightly so," Frodo bragged, just to make her laugh. "This is best of all." He produced a small box with a flourish and shook out a worn deck of cards.
"What are they?" May asked curiously, lifting one of the pasteboard rectangles and studying the faded old picture.
"A dwarf friend of mine gave me these as a gift," Frodo explained, shuffling the cards under her curious gaze. "Let me teach you a game or two."
"You play games with them?"
Frodo just smiled.
888
May tossed down her cards in disgust. "I swear you're cheatin', Frodo Traveler," she accused.
The other hobbit just grinned and collected up the cards. "An accusation I've heard before," he said comfortably. "Another scone?"
May looked longingly at the buttered treats but shook her head. "I'm too full," she sighed.
"Not something that happens often when you're carrying," Frodo chuckled reminiscently and May tapped his hand smartly.
"Now you sound like Rory!"
"A healthy appetite makes a healthy baby," Frodo gave her his best Daisy impression and she covered her mouth and giggled.
"And a bit of weight on a hobbit looks healthy too," she pointed out slyly, nodding at his soft waistline.
Frodo gave her a mock glare and rubbed his belly ruefully. "I keep meaning to take long walks," he groaned. "But there's never the time."
"Ah well, it's all in a good cause," May said, shaping her hand over her round belly.
Frodo smiled, remembering how wonderful it felt to feel that life inside him, and then memory sparked. "Oh, I forgot!" he exclaimed. "My last present." He lifted a casserole dish out of the basket and laid it on the bedside table. "For Rory to warm up for your supper."
May reached out a hand and took one of his, squeezing it gently. "You're the best brother-in-law I have," she said huskily.
Touched, Frodo squeezed her hand back. Then he sought to lighten the moment. "And you're the best sister-in-law I have. But don't tell Daisy I said so!"
888
Frodo whistled under his breath as he strolled down the lane towards home. It was later than he'd thought and long shadows crossed the path in front of him.
From the side of the path one of the shadows took form and suddenly an elf was standing before him. It was almost a shock to Frodo after all this time home, how tall the elf seemed, how lofty with his feet planted wide and his hands hung loose by his sides.
"Good evening," Frodo said politely, his mind racing. Was this one of the elves camping in Bindbale? Were they indeed seeking help?
"I have a message for you, Master Baggins. From the Lady Cristar."
Frodo blinked in surprise, as much at the abrupt tone as the elf knowing his name.
"A message for me?" There was something familiar about the elf's stare, a sort of distant pity, a cool contempt that struck a bitter chord in Frodo's heart. Now his eyes raced over the tall form, the reddish gold hair, the dark traveling clothes, the gleaming silver pin on one shoulder of his cloak. It was shaped like the curious curved leaves of a fern.
Frodo's hands clenched into fists. "Who are you?"
"I am Rhasden. I serve the Lady Cristar. In the common tongue our clan is called Eastfern."
Ice lodged in Frodo's heart as his direst suspicion was confirmed and against his will his eyes flicked past the elf and down the lane towards home. Thank goodness he had not brought Fael along with him this afternoon! Thank goodness he was tucked up safe at home with Sam.
"What do you want?" he asked, glad beyond measure that his voice did not shake.
"Your presence, Master Baggins. The Lady Cristar requests that you bring the Galinsell to her at her camp. I believe you know where that is."
Frodo shook his head in shocked denial. "What does your lady want with us?" he asked numbly. "And why on earth would she imagine I would deliver my child to her?"
"Before the sun is highest tomorrow, Master Hobbit. You have good reason to come."
With one last glance of pitying contempt the elf slipped back into the lengthening shadows and Frodo realised with a shock that the whole conversation had taken but moments. It felt to him as if hours had passed. The darkness around that had been so welcome just minutes before now seemed sinister and full of shadow and danger.
Urgent fear lent wings to Frodo's feet and he raced down the lane in the gathering darkness, gasping gratefully as he rounded the bend to see the lights of Bag End before him.
"Sam!" he called urgently, bursting through the back door and down the hall. "Sam!"
Bilbo was sitting in his arm chair with his book in his lap, Fael's cradle by his side. "What's all this noise?" he exclaimed, one hand to his chest. Fael stirred and began to wail. "Now see what you've done!"
"Where's Sam?" Frodo said wildly, crossing the kitchen and peering down the dark hall.
"Didn't you see him in the lane?"
Frodo gripped the door frame, whipping his head around at his uncle's words. "In the lane?" he whispered.
"Yes, he went to meet you when you were late. How could you miss him?"
Heart pounding Frodo tore down the hallway to the back door and peered into the darkness. "Sam?" he called. "Sam!" Night had fallen and in the distance the lights of Hobbiton dotted the landscape. But the laneway was empty and Frodo's voice echoed around the hill and was swallowed up by the shadows. "Oh, Sam."
Back in the kitchen he groped for a chair and sat, his legs weak beneath him.
Bilbo reached for his cane and banged it sharply on the flagstone floor. "Frodo Baggins! What is going on?"
"Traveler," Frodo corrected automatically, then shook his head, blinking away the frightened tears. Tears wouldn't help now, if this nightmare really was happening. Tears would not help Sam or Fael, who was still wailing out his displeasure at being disturbed. With a murmur of apology Frodo gathered him up to his shoulder and cuddled him close.
"Frodo! Where's Sam?" Bilbo asked sharply.
"I don't know." Frodo patted Fael's back as his wails turned to tired sobs and he buried his flushed face in his father's neck. "I don't know where he is. I don't know why this is happening now."
Frodo looked from the frail old hobbit sitting tensed in his armchair to the vulnerable babe in his arms. Why would the Eastferns have plucked Sam from the laneway and left Frodo with just a message? Why not simply burst into Bag End and take whatever they liked?
He shivered and held Fael closer. That one elf alone could have taken them by surprise if he'd wanted. That one elf alone could have cut through them all within moments. Frodo imagined himself coming home to Bag End, pushing open the door, finding his family, his child, his Sam...
"Frodo!" Bilbo exclaimed again. "I've never laid a hand on you in anger but I swear, if you don't tell me what's going on I will tan your backside good, Baggins, Traveler or Uncle Tom Cobbly!"
Frodo blinked again, banishing the horrible images from his mind. "I'm sorry, Uncle," he said again, swallowing hard. "On my way home I met an elf in the laneway. An Eastfern."
Now it was Bilbo's turn to stop and stare and Frodo wondered if the same thoughts were flying through his mind. How vulnerable and trusting they had been these last few months, walking down the laneways, sitting in their cosy little kitchen, blithely ignoring the darker shadows they all knew dwelled in the world.
And now those shadows had Sam.
Wanted Fael.
"But they wouldn't dare," Bilbo gasped. "Gandalf told me the oaths that were taken on both sides. That clan has sworn by their very blood to bring no harm to your family, Frodo."
"I've heard about their oaths before " Frodo said tersely. "And I'm not sure that I quite believe in them. Where else could Sam be? I will have good reason to come Rhasden said, and now I see what he meant. The Lady Cristar wants me to bring Fael to her in Bindbale, before noon tomorrow."
Bilbo glanced at the baby dozing on Frodo's shoulder, shock and horror in his eyes. "But why?" he whispered. "If they wanted him..." He broke off, unable to say the word. "They could have taken him from us at any time," he continued more firmly. "What game are they playing?"
"I don't know." Frodo looked around the room as if an answer could be found in its warm dimness. The fire burnt small in the grate, testimony to the warmth of a summer evening. One lantern stood on the windowsill, a tradition ages old, to guide a weary traveler home. Sam's absence was like a piece missing from within him.
He lifted his eyes to Bilbo. "I don't know what to do," he whispered.
Bilbo blinked his own damp eyes, then set his jaw. "You protect your son," he said firmly. "I don't know why these elves have come, but there's no doubt it's Fael in their sight. We must protect him."
"How?" Frodo appealed. "How can we protect him against folk like that? You don't know, Bilbo. You don't know what they were like, those shadows in the night."
"Nonsense," Bilbo dismissed. "I've faced unfriendly elves before, and Mirkwood ones at that. Those crazy brothers you faced from their clan proved they're fallible, Frodo, that they make mistakes. Don't build them up into something that cannot be defeated."
Frodo rubbed his cheek against Fael's soft curls for comfort. "But they have Sam," he said fearfully.
"Sam is big and strong and can protect himself. It's that baby you must protect now."
"How?"
Bilbo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There's has to be a way. Perhaps we can get a message to Gandalf?"
"No time." Frodo shook his head. "Noon tomorrow they said, and I don't doubt they meant it. Sam must be worried and frightened to death!"
"We can't do this alone," Bilbo finally said. "We need help-" He broke off and looked around, clutching at his cane. "What on earth is that?"
It was the sound of ponies hooves in the lane they could hear, and then there was a familiar call accompanying it.
"Hie, Frodo!"
"Merry?" Frodo said in wonder, hurrying to the back door and flinging it open. Merry was scrambling off the back of a pony, Pippin slid off another and stumbled towards him.
"Thank goodness you're safe, Frodo!" he cried. "Look who's here!"
Frodo peered into the darkness as a huge horse reined in at the gate and a tall lithe form slipped down nimbly and shook back shining fair hair.
"Legolas?" Frodo said in disbelief, feeling hope in his heart. "What are you doing here? How did you know?"
"Know?" Merry said, eyes searching behind Frodo in the door and finding only Bilbo. "Where's Sam, Frodo?"
Tears sprang into Frodo's eyes again and he shook them away, so glad to see his cousin's bright gaze, his friend's strong wise face.
"I fear we're too late," Legolas said gravely as he stepped over the low fence and easily jumped the stairs to the door. "The Eastferns?"
Frodo nodded dumbly and Pippin cried out in horror. "He's not dead?"
"No!" Frodo said fiercely.
"I don't believe his life is in danger from the Eastferns, Pippin," Legolas told him, laying a consoling hand on the young hobbit's shoulder. "But come, let us go inside." He glanced over his shoulder at the darkness. "I feel eyes watching us, ears listening."
"How can you know his life isn't in danger?" Frodo asked urgently as they all struggled into the cosy kitchen. Legolas sat gracefully on the stone floor and Merry collapsed onto a chair with a weary sigh.
"I was so hoping we'd get here in time," he muttered, rubbing his face with both hands.
"I cannot know, Frodo. But the oaths taken by the Eastferns were not taken lightly," Legolas explained. "Whatever their purpose here they will not kill you or Sam or Fael."
"Then why take Sam?"
"I wish I knew. I only know what Gandalf's message told me. That Nestad had reported the Lady and her retinue were on their way west. I left everything behind and hurried south as fast as I could. Poor Gimli is trying to catch up."
"Legolas found us at Buckland quickly enough," Merry filled in. "Figuring rightly that it would be easier to find us there and have us lead him here." He slapped a hand on the table. "If only we'd been quicker!"
"But who is this Lady?" Pippin asked.
"Her name is Lady Cristar." Legolas met Frodo's eyes across the room. "You knew her son, Frodo. Silasigil he named himself."
"She is his mother?" Frodo repeated numbly. "And Glamren's?"
Legolas shook his head. "All three brother's had different mothers. It's not usual among my kind, but it's not unknown either. Glamren's mother was the oldest and first of their father's wives. She died long ago. Of the third brother, Brandereb, I know little."
"Sam killed her son," Frodo said in horror. "And yet you tell me you think these Eastferns will keep their oath? Sam may be dead already!"
"If they wanted us dead we'd all be dead," Bilbo said loudly. "And Fael taken too for that matter."
"The Lady Cristar has always been considered wise and just, Frodo," Legolas said sincerely. "I don't know what effect her son's death has had on her, but I can't believe she is here to break these blood oaths."
But Frodo was not so easily convinced. "I don't believe these Eastferns are bound to any oath," he said angrily. "Their hatred and bitterness led the brothers to their death and now their clan have invaded our homeland and stolen Sam away. Can you truly say that Fael isn't in danger from their madness? Legolas?"
His friend met his angry gaze openly. "I cannot."
Frodo read that truth in his elf friend's eyes and his heart clenched in fear. A few minutes ago he would have given anything for some way to protect his son while he went to help Sam. Now a way stood before him but wasn't sure he had the courage to take it.
"They want me to take Fael to them before noon tomorrow," he told Legolas, ignoring Merry and Pippin's angry exclamations. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the elf's wise blue gaze. "If I don't they may come for him. And we can't protect him." He paused for a moment and gathered his strength. "Not here," he finally managed.
Understanding lit his elf friend's eyes. "Frodo?" he asked quietly. "Are you sure?"
Merry looked from Legolas to the hobbit suspiciously. "Sure about what?"
"It's the only way," Frodo returned.
"What?" Pippin said.
"What's in your head, Frodo?" Merry frowned.
Bilbo tilted his head. "That might work," he said slowly.
Merry shook his head as understanding dawned. "You can't mean it," he said in disbelief. "That's crazy!"
"What's crazy?" Pippin cried.
"Frodo wants Legolas to take Fael," Merry told him, voice curt. "It's crazy, Frodo. He's been traveling hard for a week, two days behind those Eastferns all the way. You can't send him out into the darkness with a small baby."
"Oh, no," Pippin whispered. "Take Fael away? Frodo, you can't!"
"I don't have a choice!" Frodo exclaimed. "We can't protect him if they come for him, and oath or not they will have to kill me before they come near my son!"
"We'll all protect him!" Merry shot back. "They'll have to kill us all to take him!"
"Do you think they won't?" Frodo said desperately. "They tried to kill him before he was born, Merry! They tried to cut him from my body!"
Pippin put his hand over his mouth in horror and Merry swallowed hard.
"Sam still bears the scar on his neck where they tried to cut his throat," Frodo continued relentlessly. "I won't let them near Fael, and I can't protect him here!"
"But they're watching the house!" Merry pointed out hotly. "Send them out there now and you may be sending them to their deaths!"
"Now calm down, lads," Bilbo said bracingly, tapping his cane on the floor. "We're all on the same side here, and we all want the same thing, to protect Fael." He beetled his brows at them and they subsided.
Frodo patted Fael's back to give himself comfort, his heart still beating hard. How could he expect Merry to understand what it meant to face such an ancient and powerful enemy? How could he expect him to know when he had never fled those shadows in the night?
Bilbo waited for silence and subsided back into his chair. He turned to the quiet elf. "Legolas, dear chap. If you can get out of the house unseen do you think you have a chance to get the lad away from here?"
Legolas nodded his head. "If I can leave undetected. But they are watching the house, Bilbo. At least two of them."
"Yes, well, they may be watching the house, but I doubt they know all of its secrets. Few do." He turned to his young cousin. "You do, Merry, unless you've forgotten. We never used it but I showed you the tunnel once, remember?"
"The back way," Merry breathed, shaking his head. "I had forgotten it."
"You have back ways too?" Pippin asked. "We have at least two back home, and I think there's one my father never told me about."
"The Great Smials have two that I know of as well," Merry agreed.
"Most of the big older houses do," Bilbo said impatiently. "But do you think elves know that?"
They turned to look at Legolas and he shook his head. "I don't think elves know much about hobbits at all," he confessed. "At least I have never heard much mention of them, nor read a book about them."
Bilbo chuckled. "Big Folk never did concern themselves with our doings. A fact I've never been more grateful for." He rubbed his hands together. "I have to say I think this is a workable plan. Not ideal, sending Legolas out on his own, but better than sitting here worrying that they'll just come and take him."
Somehow Bilbo agreeing with him made Frodo feel worse. Perhaps if the older hobbit had argued, perhaps if he had insisted they keep the baby there with them then Frodo could have agreed, told himself he'd done his best, kept his son in his arms where all his instincts screamed at him that he could protect him.
But that would be the wrong decision and Frodo knew it. These elves had plucked Sam away without effort. How long before they stretched out their hand for Fael?
"But where will you go?" Pippin said tearfully.
Legolas looked to Frodo, the same thought in both their minds.
"Rivendell," Frodo said quietly. "To Elrond. When Sam and I have dealt with this we will follow after you."
"Rivendell's weeks away," Merry said miserably and Frodo's belly clenched at the thought. Weeks away, when Fael had never been beyond crying distance from one of his parents since the hour of his birth. He hated this! But the warm trusting weight of his son on his shoulder would not let him give in to weakness. He owed it to this beloved child he'd created to keep him safe.
"Pippin, will you get Fael's bottles from the cooling stone in the pantry?" he said briskly, before he could change his mind. "Merry, you remember where we keep his sling? Can you fetch it and loosen the straps so it fits Legolas?"
His cousins stared at him for long moments.
"Hurry!" he snapped. "The more time we can give Legolas the better their chances are at escape!"
Merry jumped to his feet and Pippin followed. Bilbo heaved himself from his chair as well.
"I'll fetch a few things from the pantry," he said. "Pack some food for Legolas, find a satchel he can wear on his back."
"I can carry you too, Frodo," the elf said softly when the other hobbits were out of ear shot. "I've done it before."
Frodo just smiled sadly and shook his head. "You'll have a better chance with just this light weight. Besides." He laid his cheek on Fael's hair. "I'm still as selfish as ever I was," he murmured. "I have to find Sam you see, and be with him, even if it is our end. Fael will survive without us, if he must. But we can't survive without each other, Sam and I."
Legolas shaped his hand around the crown of the sleeping child's head where he lay against Frodo's chest. "Is that what Sam would want?"
"Oh, no," Frodo confessed. "In fact it goes against a promise I forced him to make." He quirked a sad smile. "But I know he'd do the same, Legolas. I know he would."
"He'd know as you do that you can trust your son to me," Legolas swore. "I will keep him safe for you no matter what the cost."
"Thank you." Frodo turned his back on the room as his cousins hurried back and preparations were made. While the satchel was packed and the sling fitted he gazed out into the fireplace and savoured these last precious moments with his son. Fael was a warm weight against his shoulder, his narrow back rising and falling with his breaths, his translucent eyelids fluttering as baby dreams and memories flitted behind his eyes.
Too soon silence fell behind him and he turned to see them waiting, Legolas standing now, his head bowed but still brushing the smoke stained ceiling.
Frodo breathed once more the scent of his child then whispered almost silently into a small pointed ear.
"Don't forget me."
And then he was handing Fael over and they carefully slipped him into his sling and tucked him against Legolas' wide chest. The elf pulled his coat around him and shrugged the satchel onto his back.
"This way," Frodo said hoarsely, taking a candle and leading the way down the hall to the darkest end where cellar and sub cellar lay. Cool dim rooms filled with sacks of vegetables and lined with apples, carefully separated on their shelves so one bad one wouldn't spoil a shelf full. He pulled aside a wine rack where only a few dusty bottles lay, revealing a dark wooden door that creaked quietly as he slid the bolts free and opened it.
"A tight fit," Bilbo whispered. "And you'll have some bushes to push your way through on the other end. Gorse too, if I remember rightly."
"I'll not leave the tunnel if there's anyone out there," Legolas said softly. "Wait five minutes. If I'm not back then I'm on my way, and bolt the door and cover it again." He met Frodo's eyes in the candle light and nodded, just once. Frodo nodded back, heart in his throat.
And then they were gone.
Five minutes passed but not one of the hobbits moved or spoke, sensitive ears straining for a sound from the darkness outside. Would there even be a sound? Frodo wondered numbly. He remembered the silent deadly shadows in the night and shivered in the cold cellar air.
I'm sorry, Fael, he thought. All my reasons for bringing you into the world were selfish ones. But you know how much I love you now, don't you? If I could trade my life to spare you from the shadows that wish you harm I would.
"Frodo," Merry whispered by his ear. "Bilbo needs to rest. Let's shut the door, hmm?"
With a start Frodo realised that he was numb with cold, his legs stiff from standing on the chill stone floor. How much time had passed? How far away were they now?
"Yes," he agreed, and together he and Merry closed the old wooden door and drew the stiff bolts home. Then they pulled the wine rack back into place and it was as if the door had never been there.
"I'll put the kettle on," Pippin said thickly and they all followed him down the hall to the kitchen. Warm summer night or not Frodo felt chilled to the bone as he collapsed into a chair, and he shivered gratefully as Pippin stirred the small fire to life and pushed the kettle back over it.
The chill of his flesh echoed the emptiness of his soul and the cold place against his heart where his son had lain just a little while ago.
"You should rest, Frodo," Merry said into the silence of the room. "We all should. Tomorrow we have to face those elves, and we'll need all our strength to do it."
Frodo shook his head. "You two have done enough," he told his cousins. "They have no quarrel with you and there's no reason to think they'll harm you unless you get in their way."
"Well we're not letting you go alone!" Pippin protested. His eyes were red and swollen, his voice thick. "We have our swords and we're ready to fight by your side."
"They have to believe that Fael is here," Frodo said tiredly, feeling a weary pain behind his eyes. "They have to think I wouldn't leave him unless it was under your protection." He reached out and took Pippin's hand, feeling the cold fingers grasp his gratefully. Merry sat on his other side and took his free hand, squeezing it tightly.
"If they truly keep their oaths then Sam and I have nothing to fear from them. They've taken no such oaths about you."
"But you don't believe they will keep their oaths, do you, Frodo? How can you ask us to sit here and let you go to your death?"
"How can I sit here while my son gets further and further away from me?" Frodo said miserably. "I can because I must." He squeezed his cousins hands and tried a small smile. "It's not as dire as all that, lads. Sam and I have been through much worse and escaped with our skins intact." He looked down at the stump of his finger in Pippin's grasp and snorted. "Well, almost intact. If we don't have anyone else to worry about we can do whatever it takes to get through this."
"Really?" Pippin asked.
Frodo smiled and nodded, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. There was a pain inside him like a jagged wound but he couldn't give into that pain, he couldn't let himself think of Fael, he had done all he could for him. All his energies now had to be directed towards Sam.
Frodo had known long nights before in his life, when all the world was darkness and it seemed as if dawn would never come. But sitting sleepless by the window of the room he shared with Sam, Frodo spent the longest and loneliest night he could ever remember.
And Fael was getting further and further away.
888
There was no true darkness to an elf. There was only the gentle light of the moon instead of the forceful power of the sun. They painted the world with different shades and laid down different shadows on the earth. Like the earth they had their own heartbeats.
Another heart beat against his now and Legolas curved a hand around the hobbit baby's small skull. The sling pressed him tight against his chest, and the baby slept peacefully, despite their swift pace, his head turned and his cheek resting against the elf's jerkin. Legolas smiled as small puffs of breath cooled his skin where drool had dampened the fabric.
This infant was proving to be as hardy as his parents.
He would need to be.
The tunnel had been narrow and the entrance tight, covered with old gorse and tangled blackberry canes. Legolas had pushed through it as silently as possible, trying not to leave tracks sensitive elf eyes could detect. The silent hillside had been dark, no life other than an old striped badger that watched him incuriously before lumbering away.
His first instinct was to turn north and press for old Angmar where even now Gimli was sure to be making his way towards the Shire. But to do so from here would be to pass too close to Bindbale where the Eastferns where camped. There would be eyes out in that wood and no safe passage past. Legolas closed his eyes and tried to remember more from the one glimpse he'd had of a Shire map, months before at Rivendell.
He eventually decided that if he headed south he could cross The Water and turn east back towards the borders where he had found Merry and Pippin. From there to Rivendell.
Long legs ate up the way, ears straining for any sight or sound. He wanted many miles under his belt before dawn, there were woods ahead of him, he could smell them. He needed to make their cover before the sun rose. He could not risk being seen.
Fael stretched and yawned against him and Legolas patted his narrow back without slowing his pace. How long before his little belly needed filling? Remembering the appetite of hobbits Legolas drew on more strength and increased his pace.
888
"Both the ponies are saddled," Pippin reported. "I put Sam's sword on his saddle. Just in case."
Frodo picked up his own sword and hefted the weight. He'd sworn never to carry one again, in these days of peace. He tightened his hand around the grip. He'd sworn never to take life again as well.
Merry stared at him gravely. "Are you sure, Frodo?"
"I'm sure."
He didn't look back as he set off down the lane. His path would take him on the road a short way and then across country to Bindbale Wood, on the outskirts of the North Farthing. He doubted he'd have to go all the way to Oatbarton to find the elves camp, they would surely find him long before that.
Were they watching him now, he wondered. Taking note that he didn't have Fael with him? Had they really expected he would deliver his child into their hands?
Folk waved and called out curiously as he rode past, another pony tethered to his saddle and following close behind. He hadn't ridden like this since the day they'd arrived back into the Shire after the quest, not yet two years ago now. Farmer Cotton called out from his paddock but Frodo only waved and shook his head. He'd delayed as long as he could to give Legolas the time he needed to make good his escape, but he could delay no longer if he wanted to reach the wood by noon.
The sun was indeed climbing high into the sky when the thick green trees came into sight. Movement at its edge drew Frodo closer and as he took the narrow walking path northwards he saw a flash of golden cloth in the trees before him. Setting his jaw he followed the occasional flash until finally when the trees met overhead and the forest was at its thickest the form before him stopped and let his ambling pony catch up.
It was an elven lady, long dark hair laying in plaits over her shoulders, another circlet of plaits crisscrossed with silver wrapped around her crown. Her face was a pale oval in the filtered light and she nodded to Frodo as he slipped from his pony and held its reins tight.
"I am the Lady Cristar," she said serenely. "Why did you not bring the Galinsell with you?"
"Why did you think I would?" Frodo returned just as quietly. "When your son already tried to kill him once?"
"It is because of my son you are here," the Lady shot back, her smooth white brow untroubled.
"Where's Sam?"
The Lady smiled and turned to follow the path deeper in the woods. Frodo tethered the pony to a branch and followed her.
There was something hauntingly familiar about the smooth graceful movements of the elf before him, her straight back, the delicate steps on the path. It was still hard for Frodo to believe that he could find himself the enemy of such a people, and he tightened his grip on the sword sheathed by his side. Now that it came down to it his fear was gone, his blood was pumping through his veins, his eyes flickering about him as he walked. All his senses were focused on Sam and when he heard that dear voice call his name he thought his heart would pound right out of his chest.
"Frodo! Let me go, you villain!"
"Sam?" He hurried his steps into the clearing before him where weeping willow fronds fluttered gently in the thin breeze winding through the wood. Sam was on the other edge of the clearing, hands behind his back, struggling in the hold of Rhasden. At a gesture from the Lady the other elf set him free and Frodo couldn't help the smile that split his face as his beloved raced towards him, taking his outstretched hands and gripping tightly.
"Oh, Sam," he breathed as Sam skidded on the grass and stood before him, toffee curls askew, his face smeared with dirt and tears.
"Frodo, you fool," he said in exasperation. "What on earth did you come here for?" But the hands that took his gripped tight and Sam's eyes were filled with joy.
"Glad to see you too, love," Frodo murmured, squeezing back for a moment before sharpening his attention on the Lady and the elves gathered around her across the clearing. Sam let go his hands but stepped back by his side, his warm strong presence giving Frodo strength.
"Why have you come to our realm?" Frodo asked loudly. "Didn't your clan swear an oath to leave us in peace?"
"We swore not to pursue vengeance on you," the Lady said gently. "Or to take your life." She spread pale white hands wide. "We have done neither."
"You stole me right from my front door!" Sam accused hotly.
"If it's not vengeance you desire then why come here at all? Why demand our child for Sam's release?"
The Lady inclined her head. "I am sorry that was necessary. I thought only to get this over and done, without long drawn out arguments and councils."
Frodo shook his head. "Get what done? What do you want?"
"What you took from me," she returned simply. "A son."
Frodo tightened his grip on the sword at his side. "What?"
The Lady stepped forward and a shaft of sunlight lit her face. It was easier to see now, her resemblance to her son. But there was no contempt in her eyes, no hatred. There was only sadness.
"You said you'd sworn not to take our lives!" Sam shouted but Frodo could only stand silently as he gazed into those leaf green eyes, deep sorrow catching his breath and tearing into his heart.
He reached out and caught Sam's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Sam," he said softly.
Sam frowned at him and then followed his gaze and Frodo felt it too, the moment when Sam saw what he had seen. The moment Sam understood it.
"My son's name was Alodach. When he was older he took another name." She nodded at Frodo again. "You know it, don't you."
"Silasigil," Frodo said softly and he felt Sam jerk again.
"Yes." She turned her sad gaze on Sam. "You killed him."
Sam took a deep shuddering breath. "I did," he admitted bravely. "He left me no choice."
"I know. I have the gift of sight you see. I saw that night from far away. I saw him pull his dagger from its sheath, the dagger he was so proud of, the one he named himself after. I knew in that moment it would soon strike him to his heart."
"If you saw then you know," Frodo said carefully. "You know that we didn't have a choice that night. Your son sealed his own fate."
"I saw and I know," the Lady returned poignantly. "He made his choice."
Frodo breathed out shakily. "Then why are you here?" he implored. "Why do this?"
"Because there should not have been a choice for him to make. Councils wiser than I can argue forever but they will not convince me that the healer made the right choice when he cast that spell on you. Can you deny that in casting that spell he cost my son his life?"
Frodo squeezed Sam's hand tightly. "What have you done to Nestadren?"
The Lady shook her head. "Nothing. I will do nothing to you. I am not my son, I do not solve my problems with a sharp blade."
"You said you want our son." Sam frowned. "If you don't want his life then what do you want?"
"Him," the Lady said simply. "A life for a life. A son for a son."
Frodo shook his head in disbelief. "You want to take him from us?" he gasped, trying to understand. "Why?"
"To raise him. To love him."
Sam was shaking his head now, curls flying. "You must be cracked," he said, his chest heaving. "To raise and love him? When your own son tried to kill him afore he was even born? How stupid do you think we are?"
"I think you foolish, not stupid," the Lady returned. "You were desperate for a cure and in your desperation you accepted a spell that should never have been. In your selfish desire for your life you recklessly bought new life into this world, a life that should never have been."
"You shut your mouth," Sam yelled while Frodo struggled to draw a deep breath against the pain her words caused. They cut deep, too deep, mirroring as they did his deepest guilt and fear over his own selfish acts. "How dare you say that!"
"Like the children you resemble you thoughtlessly brought that life into the world. Do you deny my own son would be alive if yours had not been born?"
"You want to know what I think about your son, Lady?" Sam began, letting go of Frodo's hand and stepping forward. "I think he was evil, pure and simple. You might be mournin' him and I'm sorry for you, I am. But I can't feel sorry for him, nor sorry for what I did to him, awful as that sounds." Sam set his jaw stubbornly. "Blame me for his death, for kill him I did when he would have killed us. But leave my son out of it."
"My son now," the Lady said firmly, something in her voice drawing their gaze to hers. "He will be my son. He will grow up in my home, speaking my language." As she spoke she took her own step closer and Frodo now found his eyes locked to hers, their green fire drawing him in. "He will call me mother," she continued relentlessly and though he tried to close his eyes to the power of her words and eyes he couldn't escape the brilliant green.
"He will forget you ever existed."
And suddenly it was green grass Frodo saw, bright as emerald under a brilliant sapphire sky. A hobbit ran, a small child, downy feet eating up the sward, golden curls streaming behind him as little legs pumped. His face was alight with joy, wide blue eyes shining, forget-me-nots aflame.
Arms were held out to him, her shimmering golden gown gleaming in the summer light as they caught him up and held him close to her breast. Pale skin gleamed with flushed pleasure, soft pink lips lovingly caressed a glowing cheek. The hobbit threw back his head and laughed his joy, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"My son," the Lady whispered and Frodo jerked awake as if from a dream. Sam was on his knees beside him and Frodo dropped down next to him, wrapping one arm around heaving shoulders.
"What did you do to us?" he said thickly, feeling Sam shiver beneath his arm.
"Gave you a glimpse of the future," the Lady said softly. "When the brilliant light of his sunshine is mine."
Chest pained, eyes stinging Frodo gazed up at her. "You can't do this," he said through his tight throat. "He's our son." He barely suppressed a sob at the memory of smiling blue eyes in that golden embrace. "You've no right to him!"
The Lady shook her head, and there was pity in her eyes now. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "It never occurred to me that you would have come to love him. But I will not let that sway me."
Sam scrubbed at his cheeks with his hands and struggled to his feet. "I'll just bet it never occurred to you," he said thickly. "Your elf magic don't fool me. Nor do your sweet words and sad face." He sniffed and straightened, staring proudly at her through swollen eyes. Frodo took his arm and stood by him, swaying on his feet.
"You're no different from your son, underneath," Sam accused. "He looked at us like we was bugs under his feet, like we weren't real with thoughts and feelin's of our own, and here you do the same! Did you really believe we'd just hand him to you?"
Frodo found his own strength returning as Sam's voice hardened.
"You're right about why we created that baby, but you have no idea how," Sam continued. "T'weren't no elf spell alone, and I reckon you know it, in whatever you have that passes for a heart. It were in love he was made and in love he grew. And love every day of his life since he was born. Take our son away?" he said incredulously. "You'll have to kill us first."
Frodo followed his gaze and took over as Sam set his jaw stubbornly. He looked beyond the lady to the other elves that stood around her, their faces dappled by the sunlight in the glade. "And then you will be forsworn," Frodo said quietly. "Murderers. Kidnappers. Do you think you face only two little hobbits now?"
He glanced at Sam and then turned back to the silent elves, looking at each one in turn, catching their eye, trying to look into their hearts.
"We were Ringbearers," he continued proudly. "We count among our friends and allies True Elves and Dwarves. Wizards and Princes and Kings of Men. If you do this thing you will find you have set your hand against every one of them and more besides."
Among the party of elves there were those that met his gaze with cool contempt. But one or two turned their eyes away from his and cast their faces down. Rhasden was one of them.
"You will bring your clan to war," he finished and there was only silence in the glade for long moments.
The Lady broke it first. "It need never come to battle," she said gently. "I would not like to see it so, for there are many halflings in this realm we have not taken oaths to spare." She studied them a moment longer, one brow raised pointedly, before taking a step away.
"You have until dawn."
The hobbits watched as the Lady made her graceful way across the clearing, one by one her retinue falling into place behind her. Only Rhasden stood facing them for last long moments, his face inscrutable. And then he too turned and walked away.
"Oh, Sam," Frodo whispered.
Sam scrubbed at his face again. "I never thought to get out of this forest alive," he numbly. "I thought you dead, love, and Fael with you. And if you were dead I couldn't understand why I was alive and I didn't want to be."
Frodo took his hands again and let himself be drawn into a tight embrace. He held Sam close, inhaling his familiar scent, running his hands down his broad back.
"We're both safe, Sam," he murmured, hoping it was true. He drew back, lifting one hand and rubbing at a grubby tear track on Sam's cheek. "Let's get out of here."
The ponies were where he left them and he and Sam swiftly mounted and turned their heads back down the path that led out of the wood into the sunlight.
The warmth was like a blessing on his face after the dim closeness of the wood and Frodo turned his head to it, eyes half closed.
"Why did you come?" Sam asked worriedly. "You should have been at home guarding Fael! For all we know they could have been there while you were fetching me and stolen him away!"
Frodo shook his head, digging his heels in the pony's flanks to hasten his pace.
"If the Lady had only wanted to steal him they could have done that last night, instead of taking you away."
Sam shrugged his agreement. "Not her," he said bitterly. "Thinks she's too civilized to steal him from our arms, reckons we should just hand him over." He snorted. "All the same, Frodo, you oughtn't to have left the baby. He's more important than me."
"Merry and Pippin are back at the house," Frodo told him, glancing around as they rode as swiftly as they dared across country. He didn't trust the ears of elves enough to confide all his news. "Fael is as safe as I can make him, Sam, I swear it."
Sam nodded, his brow still wrinkled. "But for how long?" he said desperately. "Right now she's playing Lady Muck and actin' all civilized, but what happens when we don't give her Fael? You heard the threats, veiled as they were. They're goin' to try to take him. How do we fight that?"
Frodo didn't answer, he kept his eyes on their way until at last they found the road again and were almost home. Then he turned a glance to Sam, eyes running over his sturdy form as he sat grim faced on his pony. They were side by side again and Fael was as safe as he could make him. Whatever came next they could handle.
888
"Sam! Merry, Frodo's bought Sam home!" Pippin ran to meet them at the gate, lifting his hand to the pony's bridle as Frodo reined him in.
Merry jumped down the stone steps and leapt the fence, reaching out and hauling Sam down from his pony.
"Here, watch it!" Sam protested as he was engulfed in a huge hug. But he was smiling as he slapped Merry's back.
"You worried the life out of us!" Merry accused, holding him at arms length now and shaking his shoulders.
Pippin had his arm wrapped around Frodo's waist and was grinning widely. "I can't believe you did it, Frodo!" he was exclaiming. "How on earth did you get away?"
"They let us go," Frodo said, tethering the pony to the fence. "They've got bigger plans for us."
"Where's Fael?" Sam said urgently, pushing through the gate and taking the steps two at a time. "You shouldn't have left him alone for a moment, lads." He stepped in through the back door, not noticing the glances the three cousins exchanged behind him. "I won't rest easy until I've seen him safe and sound."
Merry raised his brows at Frodo who shook his head a little. "Inside," he said lowly and with a glance at the late afternoon shadows around them Merry and Pippin followed him into the house.
"Sam!" Bilbo greeted, standing up from his chair with a grimace. "Thank goodness you're home and safe."
Sam glanced around the kitchen, peering into the empty cradle. "Where's the baby?" He looked at Bilbo first and then turned slowly and faced Frodo in the doorway behind him. "Frodo? Where's Fael?"
Frodo met Sam's eyes, his heart aching. "With Legolas," he said simply. "I sent him away with Legolas last night after you were taken."
Sam gaped at him incredulously. "With Legolas? You sent our baby off alone with only one elf to protect him? When there's a dozen out there who want to steal him away from us?" Sam grabbed Frodo's shoulders and shook them. "How could you do that?" he demanded.
"Steady on, Sam!" Merry protested, but Frodo didn't struggle to get away or fight the desperate grip of the hands. He could see the same desperate fear and worry in his dear love's eyes that must be in his own.
"I didn't know what else to do," he whispered. "I just knew I couldn't protect him." He pulled away from Sam's now slack hands and slipped out of the room and down the hall, hearing the clamour of voices in the kitchen behind him. From Sam he could hear nothing.
When Sam came and sat down beside him on the bed Frodo was sitting gazing out the window again, Fael's little elven shirt in his hands. He was smoothing his fingers over the soft fabric, tracing the delicate stitches and trailing laces absently.
"I'm sorry I got mad," Sam said, looking down at his own empty hands in his lap. "I've just spent the last day longing to see you both safe and well, to put my arms around you. To come back and find him gone..."
"I really didn't know what else to do, Sam," Frodo confessed and with a low groan Sam wrapped his arms around him and drew him close.
"My poor Frodo," he whispered roughly. "Of course you did the right thing! Our lad's as safe as he can be because you made the right choice, and I'm breathing easier that he's away from all this, I am."
Frodo leaned into the warm embrace, closing his eyes and hugging the little shirt to his chest.
"It's just... Oh, Frodo," Sam mumbled into his hair. "I'm so scared for him. I so want to have him here in our arms."
Tears he'd been damning up for twenty four hours sprang into Frodo's eyes and poured down his cheeks as huge sobs choked him.
"Sam," he sobbed, clutching Sam's shoulders tightly, feeling Sam's strong trembling hands hold him close. "Oh. Sam."
"Don't you cry, love," Sam said fiercely in his ear. "As soon as we sort these elves out we'll follow after Legolas and bring our lad home, where he belongs. All right?"
Frodo nodded, tears still running down his cheeks, grief still blocking his voice.
888
Morning passed in the dim corner of the wood and Legolas spent it resting easily on a broad tree branch, his back against the wide trunk. Fael was awake and squirming and Legolas pulled him from his sling and let him sit in his lap, marveling how small the hobbit baby still seemed, although much bigger than the last time he'd really gotten a good look at him, months before at Rivendell. Fael sat with his back straight, leaning against Legolas' chest and looking around the wood with interest.
"Not used to such a view, Fael?" the elf said softly and the baby turned his head and studied him curiously. Putting one hand out he touched a long strand of blonde hair and then grabbed a handful. Legolas bore the small tugs stoically, only calling a halt when Fael lifted the handful to his mouth.
"It wouldn't taste very nice I'm afraid, dear one," Legolas told him, kissing his small fingers. He rummaged in the satchel and found a small hard biscuit which he sniffed curiously. Fael's eyes brightened at the sight of it and he held out his hand. Unsure what use a toothless baby had for such a hard biscuit the elf handed it over, watching unsurprised as it was carried swiftly to the baby's mouth. After a few minutes it became apparent that Fael's only desire was to gum on it and Legolas leaned back against the tree's broad trunk and watched him.
The day was warm, the noon day sun high and the border of the Shire was near, but Legolas couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension stealing over him. So far his journey had been uneventful, he had stayed out of sight of hobbits and had not felt even the merest hint of elfkind. But now on the edges of his senses Legolas could feel something, although he was not yet sure if it was a threat.
Fael suddenly tired of his biscuit and with a flick of his wrist flung it away. It bounced down the branches into the soft grass below. The baby smacked his lips together and Legolas shook his head.
"You can't be hungry again," he protested. "They only gave me two bottles for you and they are both gone."
The baby smacked his lips together and frowned, rubbing the back of his sticky mouth with a small fist. Legolas lifted the hem of the damp bib and wiped away the remains of the rusk but Fael's mood was growing mutinous.
"All right," the elf agreed, recognising the signs of impending tears and fearing a babe's cry would attract unwanted attention. "There's a farm nearby, they will have a well and we may help ourselves to water. But no milk until we are safer, hobbitling! We cannot risk being seen by anyone this day!"
He lifted Fael back into the sling and leapt nimbly from the branch, turning his mouth up in a smile as Fael squeaked and chuckled at the swift movements. Running down the worn track Legolas soon found the farmhouse, but now he faced a dilemma. Fael was making discontented noises against his chest again that would soon turn to wails. And in the barn ahead was a dairy with milk he could smell from here.
It seemed he would be turning thief today.
By stealth he made his way past farm dogs dozing in the midday sun and into the cool stone floored dairy adjacent the old barn. But in the end he could not simply take the milk after all. Carefully he took off a silver cuff he wore around one ear lobe and laid in in the center of the empty milk dish. And then with both bottles full he slipped out of the barn and made for the wood once more.
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"Mother, did you see that?" Farmer Hasty said in astonishment. His wife looked up from her lunch.
"See what?"
By the window, tankard still clutched in his hoary fist old Farmer Hasty stood gaping. "An elf," he said. "I swear I saw an elf, long golden hair and all. He was leavin' our barn."
Mrs. Hasty shook her head and forked up another mouthful of parsnip. "You old fool," she chided. "What would an elf want in our barn? And how would you know an elf if you saw one anyway?"
But later she had to admit he might have seen an elf after all, when a fine silver ring that slipped easily onto her pinkie finger was found in an empty dish where milk had been poured to cool. She stroked the fine circlet of silver thoughtfully
"Do you think if I left out cream he'd leave me a bracelet next time?"
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"Dawn she said?" Bilbo repeated thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Nice of them to give us time to prepare."
"There's nothin' nice about this Lady," Sam said grimly. He and Frodo sat shoulder to shoulder, hands firmly clasped.
"She's an evil witch," Pippin said angrily. "Just like one of those old story book witches, stealing babies from their cradles."
"And threatening other hobbits in Hobbiton to do it," Merry agreed.
"That's a good point," Bilbo said. "This isn't just our fight now, lads. Folk around here have a right to know they're in danger."
"We can't get innocent hobbits involved in this," Frodo protested.
"We're innocent hobbits," Sam pointed out. "And she's the one who's gettin' them involved."
"Sam's right." Bilbo banged a fist on the table and everyone jumped. "That's what we have to do."
"What?"
"Send word to every hobbit we can reach. We've heard a lot about invaders who strolled into the Shire and took it over while we were all away. I don't reckon folk around here will take too kindly to these invaders coming here and threatening their very lives!"
"But if we stir folk up it might come to a battle." Frodo shook his head. "We can't let that happen again."
"I don't reckon it's up to us any more," Sam told him sadly.
"I hate the thought of another battle as much as you do, Frodo," Pippin said, his eyes dark with old memories. Merry rubbed a comforting arm around his cousin's shoulders, his own eyes shadowed.
"But if we have to fight them to keep Fael safe and give Legolas time to get him away then that's what we have to do."
"And if that takes asking friends and neighbours to stand by us then we do that too," Bilbo agreed. He looked around the table. "Perhaps it won't come to it, ey? Perhaps your words convinced the Lady she was making a mistake? Legolas said she was considered just and wise."
"Yes," Pip said hopefully. "Maybe now she knows that Fael is loved and wanted they'll think better of trying to take him away."
Frodo and Sam exchanged looks. They had not told the others about the vision the Lady had forced on them, of Fael in her arms. It was too raw and painful, like a new wound. They had not even discussed it between themselves.
"I'm not sure I know what elves mean when they call someone just and wise," Sam said slowly. "The way these folks think is beyond my understandin'. But it's doubtful to me the Lady was even listenin' to our words back there. She come here with her mind set and determined to take Fael away. I don't know what could change that."
"It's her heart she has set on it," Frodo said, his hand unconsciously resting on his belly. "A mother's heart, sore and broken."
"You can't think like that," Bilbo said sternly. "Whether it's a mother's grief or a mother's vengeance she feels, she's left us no choice but to fight her. Right up to that empty cradle before they realise that Fael isn't in it."
Their eyes met around the table again and Frodo could read the determination in every one. In his minds eye was the memory of those shadows in the night that had haunted his dreams for months, waking him in the early hours in a cold sweat. They had taken on the aspect of monsters in his mind but now he could read the determination of his loved ones to fight those monsters, whatever the cost. He had to believe now that they could be defeated.
"All right," he said. "Merry, Pip, take the ponies and go as far afield as you can. Sam, you and I will go the closer farms and homes. We owe it to our neighbours to warn them." He looked around at the brave faces of his family. "We have till dawn."
He stood and then swayed as the kitchen whirled around him.
"Whoa, Frodo," Sam exclaimed, grasping his elbow.
"Sit down, Frodo," Merry said in concern. "He's not slept a wink, Sam. He fretted all night for you and Fael."
"I'm all right," Frodo mumbled, feeling the drag of weariness in his limbs.
"You stay right where you are," Sam ordered firmly. "Merry and Pip and I will go warn our neighbours."
"But, Sam, you were the one who was a captive all night!" Frodo protested. It was Bilbo who interrupted him.
"Listen to Sam, Frodo," he said, covering Frodo's trembling hand with his own. "We'll need you when dawn rolls around, and you won't be any good to anyone if you collapse."
"Please, Frodo," Sam said, standing and cupping a loving hand around his shoulder. "You know me, even tied up on the floor of that tent I managed to sleep. I'm fine."
"Oh, Sam," Frodo said, shaking his head. But he stayed in his seat when the other hobbits armed themselves and clattered away. In truth he wasn't sure he could even move.
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Frodo didn't realise he'd dozed off where he sat, but he must have because he began to dream.
Darkness surrounded him and the thick cloying smell of earth filled his nostrils. He was hiding because death was very close and he had something precious to protect. His ears strained in the darkness but all he could hear was the terrified pounding of his own heart.
In the midst of the darkness a tiny point of light began to glow and a curious kind of peace settled within him. Without stumbling he pushed his way through the earth into the night, fearless now as that point of light grew within him, filling him, banishing the shadows even as they moved towards him, black evil in their hearts.
Suddenly the soft glow became a blaze of light, engulfing the shadows, burning away the blackness in its white gold light. Then the light faded back into that gentle glow again, its warmth within him softly stirring, peering over one pale shoulder.
And then it smiled.
Frodo woke with a start, hand flying to his belly, chest heaving.
"Frodo?" Sam's hand was on his shoulder again and Frodo turned to him, blinking dazedly.
"Sam? What time is it?"
"Near midnight, I've just got back. You should have laid down to rest."
"There'll be time for rest later," Frodo said absently, frowning as he recalled fragments of his waking dream. What did it mean? His memory of it was fading but it had left behind it a curious warmth and peace. And an anticipation stirring in his breast.
"Sam?"
"Hmm?"
"Fael's nearby."
Sam just stared at him. "How do you know?"
Frodo shook his head. "I don't know how. I just do." He stood up, dizziness gone, weariness buried beneath eager hope. A smile blossomed on his face. "He's coming back!" And then he was off and running, feet slipping on the tiles in the hall as he found his way through the darkness by instinct alone. Sam cursed behind him as he stubbed his toe but Frodo didn't pause, hands in front of him he stumbled into the cellar and pulled at the wine rack, struggling with the bolts he'd fastened the night before.
"Darn it, Frodo," Sam said, banging into him from behind. "Why didn't we bring a lamp with us at least?"
"Shh," Frodo said, straining his ears in the silence, tilting his head towards the narrow musty tunnel.
"Love," Sam whispered, hand around his waist tenderly. "It was just a dream, love. Fael's far away from here by now, safe with Legolas." He broke off, ears twitching. Someone was coming up the tunnel. "It could be an enemy," he hissed, tugging Frodo away but the other hobbit pulled out of his grasp and leaned over.
"Legolas!" he called softly and in a moment there was an answering call that echoed lowly down the tunnel.
"Frodo?" And then they both heard the blessed sound of their baby crying, his distinctive hungry wails like music to Frodo's ears.
"Fael!" he gasped as Legolas emerged from the tunnel and straightened from his crouch. The baby was still slung across his chest and Frodo wrapped his arms around them both and buried his nose in Fael's soft curls.
"Legolas!" Sam gasped. "What are you doing back here?"
"I'm glad to see you safe, Sam," Legolas said, laying his hand on Frodo's crown. "I'm sorry, my friends, I failed you."
"Let's get out of this darkness," Sam said, and Frodo reluctantly pulled back, his eyes aching to see his baby as well as smell and touch him.
Legolas led the way through the darkness and Frodo stumbled along beside him, hand in hand with Sam. Once in the lamp lit hall they stopped and Legolas crouched and shrugged off the sling. And then Frodo had Fael in his arms once more and he laughed through grateful tears as Fael cried against his shoulder.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
Legolas explained, his face grim and scratched. "There were two of them, tracking me in the wood where I took shelter for the day. I don't know how they found me. Alone I could have fought them," he said, shrugging eloquently. "But you did not send your precious child with me to risk in a fight. In the end all I could do was return him to you. I'm sorry. I failed you."
"No, Legolas," Frodo insisted, finding his voice. "Never. You did as I asked and kept him safe." He laid his cheek on Fael's curls. "I can't regret that he's back with us."
Sam rubbed the baby's back tenderly. "Me either," he confessed. "Though I know I should." He met Frodo's eyes. "We've still the same problem, Frodo. We can't protect him."
But Frodo couldn't feel anything but joy as the warmth of Fael's presence filled him. "Don't worry, Sam, we'll think of something. It's going to be all right."
Sam and Legolas glanced at each other and then stared at him quizzically. "Do you just know that too?" Sam said sceptically.
Frodo smiled. "Yes."
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Frodo kissed his baby's head and handed him to Sam who cuddled him close against a broad shoulder.
"There there, my lad," Sam said tenderly. "Did you miss your daddies then?"
"Missed his bottle more like," Frodo said, wiping at the tears in the corner of his eye as he bustled to find the freshest milk.
Sam chuckled as Fael grew tired and his wails turned to grizzling sobs against his father's neck. "Don't listen to your Frodo-dad. We've missed you, my hinny."
Legolas was standing by the open kitchen window, looking out into the night. "I can only hear Bilbo sleeping in the study," he said thoughtfully. He turned his blue gaze back out into the night, head tilting. "Where are Merry and Pip?"
Sam was cooing in Fael's ear and kissing his damp pink cheek but Frodo was caught by the elf's stillness and paused in his movements. "Legolas?"
"An elf is coming down the road."
Sam froze and Frodo caught his gaze anxiously. "Who?"
Legolas shook his head. "I do not know. But he is alone."
"What do we do?" Sam was standing now and Frodo went to him and stood by his side, shoulder to shoulder.
"They know you're back, Legolas," Frodo said uneasily. "And they've come to take Fael!"
Sam wrapped an arm around his waist for comfort, but Legolas was shaking his head.
"He is alone," the elf pointed out. "Wait here, I will go meet him."
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"It's that Rhasden," Sam reported from the door. "And he is alone."
Frodo lay Fael in his crib and picked up his sword once more. "Do you think the Lady's changed her mind?"
Sam snorted. "Not her. Probably try to bribe us next. Thinks hobbitlings are like puppies, and we just give 'em away!"
"Sam?"
The fair haired hobbit turned from his vigil by the door.
"That vision she showed us..."
Face tightening Sam turned back and gazed out into the night. "Don't think on it," he said gruffly. "It was just elf magic makin' us see that."
"The Lady said she saw visions of the future." Frodo bit his lip. "What if..."
"I said forget it!" Sam said loudly. He gripped the round door frame tightly, his fingers whitening with the strain. "It's our arms Fael will run into, not hers!'
Frodo went to Sam and stood close behind him, touching his shoulder with one hand. "Sorry," he whispered.
Sam covered the hand with his own, fingers gently stroking the maimed finger.
"I'm the one who's sorry," Sam murmured back. "It hit me real hard, love, I don't mind admittin'. But for all she made it convincin' I know it wasn't true, I know it! There was a... wrongness about it. It's what she wants, that's what I reckon. Not what will be."
Frodo thought hard about it, leaning forward against the warmth of his love's back. Then Sam stiffened.
"They're comin'" he whispered harshly. "Legolas is bringing him here!"
The elves stepped through the front gate and stood for a moment side by side, bathed in moonlight. They were of a height and build, these two, their friend's hair a fall of golden silver in the moonlight, their enemy's darker and more ruddy. But their swords were sheathed and they stood easily together, hands loosely by their sides.
Frodo stayed in the doorway, one eye on the events before him, one on Fael now sleeping peacefully in his crib by the study door.
"What are you bringin' him here for?" Sam demanded hotly. "This bugger helped steal me from my own door step last night!"
"You have my apologies for that," Rhasden said humbly, head bowed.
"Oh, I'll forgive you then, shall I?" Sam jeered. "No harm done."
"It is my fervent hope that we can indeed leave this place with no harm done."
Sam jerked a little in surprise at the elf's sincere tones, flicking a glance at Frodo before turning to Legolas.
"What's goin' on, Legolas?"
"Please, let me explain," Rhasden said politely, setting his foot on the first step, but Sam lifted his sword again at the move.
"I don't think so," the hobbit said fiercely. "You're as cracked as your Lady if you think you're setting a step closer to my son."
Face tightening Rhasden nodded curtly and lowered his foot.
"I cannot blame you for your attitude," he said quietly. "You have been treated most unfairly by our clan. But, please, try to understand. We knew nothing of your kind when we came here save tales and legends ages old." He cast a glance past Sam to the handsome little dwelling, the round green door with its intricate carving glowing gently in the moonlight. "We heard you lived in holes in the ground," Rhasden said uncomfortably. "Like rats."
"Well we heard you lived in trees," Sam exclaimed rudely. "Like ruddy squirrels!"
Legolas smiled and nodded his head. "I've always been quite fond of nuts," he admitted.
Despite the peril of the situation Frodo found himself chuckling at his elf friend. Sam only snorted.
"So now you're sayin' your Lady come to rescue our son, did she? Not steal him away like a thief in the night?"
"I'm saying, Master Hobbit that we did not come here for your son at all!" Rhasden said loudly, then subsided, shrugging a little. "We barely knew whose lands we passed through on our way to the Grey Havens."
Frodo frowned a glance at the youthful looking elf. "You're sailing into the West?"
Rhasden nodded. "I have served my Lady all my life," he confessed proudly. "And when her grief drove her to this decision I willingly followed her, as did many in our clan. Since the death of her son..." He broke off.
Frodo spoke for the first time. "That was not of our doing," he said baldly. "Silasigil bought his own end on him. Or do you want to see the scar Sam still bears on his throat? Will bear his life long?"
Rhasden shook his head. "I know this will be difficult for you to understand, but there was no vengeance in our hearts either. Our Lady knew the truth of her son's end. But it did not make his loss any easier to bear. She who has lost so much already..."
Frodo flicked another glance at his sleeping son. His heart had always been torn by the deaths that had occurred in Rivendell that night. He well remembered his terror for Sam and their unborn child. He knew as long as he lived he would never forget those shadows in the night.
That was the scar he bore.
But at the same time he had always regretted the fact that death had been so close while he was carrying the greatest gift he had ever known; that of life.
"Where is your Lady?" he finally asked.
Rhasden closed his eyes briefly. "I do not know."
"What?" Sam exclaimed.
"Please, let me explain," Rhasden begged. "We were on our way through your lands when the Lady had her vision. Try to imagine what it meant to those of us who loved her? Her smile when she spoke of the child of light. Her joyful anticipation of the future with him, when only hours before she saw nothing but darkness and despair in the long forever ahead. When she begged us to help her rescue him..."
"Rescue," Sam sneered. "From us 'rats'?"
Rhasden held his head high. "I apologise again," he said stiffly. "It shames me to admit my people knew so little of yours that we did not even understand that you would value him so. Let alone love him."
Sam was sputtering again but Frodo's voice was clear and direct. "And now you do know?"
"That is why my Lady is gone," Rhasden admitted uncomfortably. "Because it became clear to those of us who served her that this was... wrong. You are not our kind," he said lowly. "But perhaps you are not so very different from us. In the ways that matter."
Sam shook his head in disbelief, and Frodo looked over Rhasden's shoulder to his friend, Legolas, who stood easily by the gate.
"Did you know so little of us, when first we met at Rivendell, old friend?"
"I was a little more traveled than Rhasden here," Legolas said frankly. "But I was quite surprised that first night when Bilbo started reading his poetry. I didn't know hobbits could read, you see."
Sam was looking amazed but Frodo only nudged his shoulder playfully. "Don't act so scornful now, Sam Gamgee. I might remind you of some thoughts you had on elves before we met them. Aye and men too!"
"And dwarves," Legolas said softly, eyes innocent.
"Harrumph," Sam snorted disdainfully. "That's Sam Traveler if you don't mind."
"Sorry," Frodo murmured and Sam nudged him back.
"P'raps it might do folks good to learn more about other folks," Sam grudgingly admitted. "But what worries me right now is this Lady of yours. What's in her head, now her own clan have turned against her?"
"We have not turned against her!" Rhasden exclaimed, looking horrified. "We only sought to speak reason to her." He trailed away, face miserable. "But alas, I fear there is no reasoning with her grief. She wants your child very much. She sees him as her future, I think."
"And now she's out there," Frodo said fearfully, gazing out into the dark night.
"My people search for her as we speak."
Sam and Frodo exchanged glances and then looked nervously at Legolas. "Um, your people are wanderin' around in the woods?"
Sam?" Legolas asked. "What's wrong?"
"Merry and Pippin are out warning the folks hereabouts about elves come to steal Fael away," Sam reported ruefully.
Legolas glanced down the road, face grave. "I fear we may have bloodshed on our hands before morning."
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Sam's eyes felt gritty and he rubbed them wearily as he pushed the door to their bedroom open. If he didn't manage a few hours kip soon he might just keel right over.
Frodo was fast asleep, curled on his side in his favourite sleeping position. Fael was next to him and Sam smiled to see the infant wide awake, eyes crossing as he explored one hand with the other before his face.
"Be careful," Sam whispered, reaching out to stroke the tangle of impossibly long fingers apart. "The wind might change."
Fael focused on his father's face and blinked thoughtfully. Then he blew some bubbles, drooling down his chin and into the collar of his little gown. This was a sure sign the baby was starting to feel the first pangs of hunger and Sam sighed. Maybe he wouldn't be getting any rest right now.
Frodo snuffled and opened sleepy eyes, then stretched and yawned widely. "What time is it?" he muttered, knuckling one eye.
"Dawn's been and gone," Sam confessed and Frodo sat up, groaning and shielding his eyes from the light streaming in the window.
"Sam!" he exclaimed. "You promised to wake me!"
"If anything happened," Sam reminded him, giving in and sitting on the edge of the bed. He couldn't help his moan as aching feet left the ground. Frodo's frown instantly cleared and he reached out and touched Sam's arm.
"I'm sorry, love," he said contritely. "At least I've had some sleep, which is more than you have."
"I'm fine," Sam dismissed. "And so far everyone else is too. All the hobbits hereabouts who were warned about dangerous elves have been warned that some are our friends, but it made no nevermind anyway. No one's seen sight nor sign of an elf, clever buggers that they are."
"No one sees an elf unless he wants to be seen," Frodo agreed. He stroked Sam's arm tenderly. "Lay back and get some rest, love."
Sam didn't resist the invitation, he stretched out on the bed, sighing blissfully as his spine hit the soft mattress. "I can't sleep," he murmured, eyes already drifting closed. "Fael's nearly ready for his feed."
"I'll feed Fael," Frodo murmured and Sam sighed again as beloved fingers stroked his temples gently. "And when you wake up I'll tell you about a plan I've been hatching."
This was so alarming Sam almost woke up, but the needs of his body over rode the warning bell in his brain and he drifted away.
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Frodo found just the spot he was looking for and settled down in the long soft grass. The June sun was still an hour or so away from setting, and a scented afternoon breeze was rustling in the flowering bushes around him, waving the tall fronds of the grass and shushing gently in the distant trees. It was a perfect afternoon, and Frodo smiled as he imagined Fael's delight in this place.
When this was over he'd bring his son here and lay him in the fragrant grass. What fine times they would have!
"Are you brave or foolish, I wonder?"
The hobbit looked up, unsurprised at the vision of elven loveliness before him.
"You'd be surprised how many times that question has been asked," he said ruefully. "You really would."
The Lady looked around, her keen elf eyes searching the fragrant bushes and the forest beyond the fields.
"You're alone," she stated.
It wasn't a question but Frodo nodded anyway. "I'm not afraid of you," he said serenely. "I never was for myself. And just because your kin have deserted you doesn't mean your honour has. You've vowed not to kill me, remember?"
The Lady shrugged, her eyes hooding. "My kin, as you call them, are still loyal to me. They just lack my vision, that's all. They cannot know the power of what I have seen. They cannot understand that perhaps what seems wrong can ultimately be the right thing to do."
Frodo surveyed her curiously. "Does it seem wrong to you too?" he wondered.
The Lady seemed careful to select her words. "Let us just say that I am not without pity for you," she said finally. "I do believe you care for the child."
"Good of you!" Frodo snorted. "Care for him? I gave birth to him, Lady."
"For your own selfish reason," the Lady said smugly. "You cannot begin to understand what it truly means to be a parent, a mother."
Frodo stared at her. "My son will never have a mother," he said regretfully. "He'll call me father, but I'm not. Sam's his father, of that there's no doubt." He smiled, a little sadly. "There's no word for what I am, Lady, unless you count the ones your son threw at me. Unnatural. Freak."
The Lady bowed her head. "My son was ruled by anger and hatred," she said softly.
"He was," Frodo agreed. "And it drove him to great evil. You seem to think because you are driven by love that your evil is somehow lessened."
The Lady looked startled. "You believe I am driven by love?" she said, surprised.
"I do. That vision you showed us." Frodo broke off, swallowing hard. This was harder to remember. "False as it was there was real love in it. Real need for love."
"It was not false!" The Lady denied. She shifted a little, almost as if restless. It was a curious demeanor for an elf and Frodo couldn't help but stare for a moment. She swallowed hard and stilled again. "It was not false," she said again more quietly. "But you are right about the love. I will love and protect the child of light his life long. He will want for nothing, this I swear."
Frodo looked at her. "You still intend to take him then?" he asked. "Even knowing it's wrong, even as your people have abandoned you?"
"Even if all elfkind abandoned me," the Lady said fiercely. "That child is my future, my chance to make up for the past. Did you really believe your words today would sway me?"
Frodo climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. The wind was picking up and the soft susurration through the trees was gentle, almost soothing.
"I hoped it would," he murmured. "But I didn't really believe it, no." He focused over her shoulder for a moment and then looked back at her, feeling an odd sort of pity rise up within him. This fine lady would have stolen everything precious from his life without a second thought but he could still find it within him to feel sorry for her. He nodded behind her.
"That's what they're here for," he said gently.
With a start the Lady turned but her elf companions were already impossibly close, without a pause Frodo turned and walked away, barely feeling a breeze as the rest of her company streamed soft footed past him to surround her.
He didn't turn or look back.
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"You are making me old afore my time!" Sam cried out, snatching him close and holding him tightly against him. Shamelessly enjoying it Frodo just stood on the top step and let himself be held.
"Let him go for a minute, Sam!" Bilbo cried from inside the house. "Come talk to us, Frodo. Did it work?"
"I didn't stay to watch," Frodo admitted and Sam shook his head and snorted.
"Merry and Pip are in the trees," Sam informed them. "Despite orders to stay away. They'll tell us quick enough if owt goes wrong."
Frodo settled himself in his arm chair and puffed out a sigh. "Nothing will," he said confidently. "There's too many of them."
"I still think Merry's idea was better,' Sam said fiercely. "Wait till you lure her in then shoot every arrow in the Shire at her."
"Sam," Frodo chided fondly. "It's too nice a day to talk about bloodshed."
"But Sam may have a point," Bilbo said sharply. "This whole plan depends on her kin keeping a hold of her long enough to talk her out of this."
"I doubt they ever will," Frodo sighed. "She has her heart set on it."
Sam shivered and glanced at Fael, sitting complacently in the curve of Bilbo's arm.
Frodo touched his hand softly. "Don't worry, Sam. Legolas will make sure she can't hurt us again."
"They got her, they got her!" Pippin called as he skittered into the house and slid on the flagstones in the hall. "Not even a struggle in the end, she just stood while they overwhelmed her. Hugging her they were, and holding her close. Never seen elves act like that."
"And where are they now?" Sam asked eagerly.
"Going back to camp." Pippin collapsed on the floor with a theatrical huff, crossing his legs and panting. "Whew, I ran like a dog to get here. Anyway, Merry's following them to make sure."
"And Legolas will stay until it's all sorted." Frodo heaved a sigh. "It feels like it might be over, lads. What do you think?"
"I think I'm starved," Sam pronounced. "It feels like forever since we've sat down together for a good meal."
Pippin looked eager. "Something fried?" he begged pitifully.
Frodo licked his lips at the thought. "I'm sure that can be arranged."
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Merry joined them halfway through the meal and fell to his food as if ravenous. The others held back their impatience until he had chewed a chicken leg and downed a mug full of ale in one swallow.
"Well?" Sam finally demanded.
"Gone," Merry reported thickly, mouth already full again. "Heading West, talking hard all the way. Legolas is going with them to see for himself if the Lady goes with them." He grunted. "And to make sure she's willing. Says she can't be forced to go."
"I could bloody force her!" Sam exclaimed. "Pick her up and chuck her into the bloody sea!"
Merry nodded agreement and Pip punched him enthusiastically on the arm. "And I'd help you!" he added aggressively.
"Will she go d'you thnk, Frodo?" Bilbo asked anxiously and Frodo could only shrug.
"Well how will we know when it's over?" Bilbo grumbled. "You know, you lads promised me a quiet time back here in the Shire."
"We were rather counting on one ourselves," Frodo pointed out.
"Well I think the question is are there any more Eastferns out there?" Pippin burped discreetly.
"Don't worry, Frodo," Merry said warmly. "Our friends warned us this time, and Gandalf and Legolas and the others will do their best to make sure we're all safe."
"We have a lot of good friends," Sam agreed and then he yawned, wide and long. "I'm still dog tired," he said, wiping sleepy tears from the corners of his eyes. "But this lad here is wide awake of course." Fael was holding his father's hands and pressing pointed toes into his thighs, trying to straighten dimpled legs.
Frodo sharpened his attention. "He looks like he's ready to stand up!"
Sure enough the plump little legs straightened and Fael was standing triumphantly on Sam's thighs, both fists still held tight in his father's strong hands.
"Well done!" Pippin said, tousling his golden curls and Merry cheered and raised a mug.
Fael beamed and bent his knees, bouncing a few times as if showing off his new skill.
"Those are some sharp toes you have there!" Sam exclaimed, but his tan cheeks were flushed with happiness and Frodo smiled joyfully at the sight.
Not so long ago he'd been alone, Fael far away, Sam a captive, the future truly uncertain and frightening before him. And now tonight the soft June moonlight was streaming in through the kitchen window, illuminating the faces of those he loved, gathered all around him.
The light worked to banish the shadows once more.
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Epilogue.
"And they are truly gone?" Frodo asked for the dozenth time and Legolas laughed and answered him patiently.
"Yes, Frodo, they are gone. The Lady sailed away with her kin, in hope her heart would know ease at last."
"And there are very few left of their clan now," Gandalf declared. "And none who are a danger to your family that I can see."
Frodo smiled at him joyfully and pushed the plate of cakes his way. "You've set our minds at rest. Thank you both for coming." A cleared throat to his right caught his attention and he bestowed a smile on another friend as well. "And you too, Gimli."
"I'd have been more help if the young princeling here hadn't dropped me off in the middle of nowhere to walk the rest of the way," he grumbled. He peered into Fael's eyes where he was standing clutching at his knee and nodded forcefully. "That's right isn't it, my little hobbitling?"
The baby squeezed fistfuls of chain mail and bobbed up and down by Gimli where he sat cross legged on the grass.
"Even the baby agrees with me."
Sam poured more tea and handed around the mugs. "We must write and thank Nestadren for sending out the warning that they were comin'. Hard to believe it was all that vision of hers to blame."
"I feel better knowing it was elves who helped us in the end," Frodo said thankfully. "They've been such good friends to us in the past, it's a comfort to know their basic goodness won through, even over loyalty to their own Lady."
"We'd have managed anyway," Sam said stoutly. "We could have fought them off, I've no doubt."
"Here here!" Merry cheered. "We weren't going to make it easy for them to just stroll in here and steal our little Fael away."
Fael looked up with a grin at his name, and Frodo passed over a cloth so that Gimli could wipe the endless drool off the little pointed chin.
"Shire folk have proved their courage before," Gandalf agreed, wiping crumbs from his fingers. "I've no doubt they'd have proved it again if pressed." He took a deep breath of the warm summer air and smiled. "I heard a few stories circulating on my way here about this recent trouble. It seems it's already turning into legend."
"Legend?" Sam asked curiously. "Maybe Frodo should write it all down? What are they saying?"
"I fear elfkind is getting the worst of it," Gandalf confessed. "Wicked elf queens who steal babies from their cradles and the like."
"Oh dear," Frodo said in dismay. "That's not really very fair."
"It'll die down." Sam predicted.
"Perhaps," Gandalf conceded. "Although the origins of one seem most peculiar to me. Apparently there's a rumour that if you leave a saucer of milk for the elves they'll leave you a silver ring!"
Legolas looked up from the leaf he was twirling in his fingers and studied all the faces turned towards him. He smiled and settled his shoulders more comfortably against the tree he was leaning on.
"I predict some fat cats in the Shire," he said contentedly and he smiled again and gazed dreamily up at the blue sky through the lacey leaves above him as happy laughter rang around the garden under the summer sun.
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