Notes to Readers:

Please be sure to leave a review! They are very motivating, and each review you leave entitles you to a free cup of cyber-tea in the parlour (The Muse and I do try to make our guests feel welcome).

Bookworm, a nice observation, yes on some people it has an adverse effect, but it was actually the making of Lobelia.

Xena, I had a lot of fun writing this, expanding the little mention in "The Grey Havens" (the snippet from the Will is a direct quote from that chapter) into the chapters where Lobelia was cheered, leaving the Lockholes, where she invited Frodo to visit, and chapter 48 with her bequest.

Expect another chapter of "Shire" next, as long as ffnet cooperates. My editor is helping me whip it into shape, chapter by chapter.

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Chapter 49. 'As Long as Life Shall Last'

On the Sixth of April the mallorn tree burst into flower, and all in Bag End, host and guests alike, made their way to the Party Field for a picnic in its honour. The Bracegirdles had stayed over for the blossoming of the tree, the only one of its kind in Middle-earth this side of the Misty Mountains. It was the wonder of the neighbourhood, but Sam made very sure that all understood the blossoms were not for gathering.

In its short span of life, the sapling had grown taller than a hobbit's head, its slender branches arching out in blessing above the wondering hobbits. 'How big will it get?' Freddy asked in awe. He listened to the four Travellers attempt to describe the Golden Wood, and shook his head. It was something you'd have to see to believe, he thought. For the first time, he wished he'd gone with them and not stayed behind at Crickhollow.

'It would be a lovely place for the wedding,' Sam said a little wistfully.

'And why not, Samwise?' Frodo said. 'We could still have the wedding breakfast at the Cottons' farm, and the ceremony and supper here!'

'That's more than a mile to carry the bride!' Sam protested.

Pippin laughed. 'I could carry her before me on Socks, if you didn't mind, Sam,' he said. 'It would be like a picture out of a book of old tales, the knight in shining mail rescuing the damsel in distress and delivering her safe to the arms of her true love!'

'Just so long as you didn't carry her off, cousin,' Freddy remarked. He had moved into Bag End from the Cottons' house, after expressing many warm thanks to the family that had taken him in and nursed him back to health not once, but twice. He didn't know how he could ever repay their kindness, though they insisted that there was no debt outstanding.

'It would truly make a picture,' Frodo said with a smile. 'What do you think, Sam?'

'If the Cottons agree,' Sam said. 'As tradition goes, the wedding ought to take place on their farm, it being Rosie's home and all.'

'Ah, but Bag End will be her new home,' Merry said. 'Handy, that. When the party's over, she won't have far to go to retire.' He yawned. 'Speaking of retiring,' he said, and laid himself down on the blanket. 'Don't mind me,' he added sleepily. 'You just go ahead with your plans, and I'll be happy to put my snore of approval on them.'

'Not a bad idea,' Freddy said, reclining on his own blanket, and soon the two convalescents were snoring in harmony while the wedding speculations went on. Speculations they must be, and not plans, until they received a thorough going-over by Rosie and Mrs Cotton! As Rosie could hardly say to Samwise in anything he asked, of course, the mallorn tree was included in the plan. 

The plans went off without a hitch: first the wedding breakfast with its songs and anecdotes and toasts in the flowery meadow behind the barn at the Cottons' farm, and then the laughing bride was borne away to the Hill above Hobbiton and the Party Field where the ceremony would take place. If the guests had to walk a bit further than was customary to go from breakfast to ceremony, there was no complaining. Farmer Cotton and several neighbours provided waggons for those who were not fit enough to walk the distance. It was quite a procession: first came the Cotton family and Hamfast Gamgee and his children come from all parts of the Shire, walking aloing, in their midst Mr Pippin on his smoke-grey pony with Rose before him on the saddle. Mr Freddy was in the lead waggon behind the wedding party. Mr Merry and Mr Frodo rode with Mr Freddy to keep him company, all three singing gustily, and they soon had the entire crowd singing with them.

Samwise and Young Tom Cotton brought up the rear, of course. Sam would have asked Frodo to stand up with him if only Frodo weren't acting as Deputy Mayor and performing the ceremony. Someone had to witness the vows, and so Sam, after consulting with Mr Frodo, asked Tom, who was flattered and pleased.

They arrived at the Party Field to find Frodo waiting and ready, Rosie standing between her parents nearby. Tom took his sister's hand from his parents' handhold and placed it in Sam's while Mrs Cotton stifled a happy sob. To think her little girl was grown and getting married! Frodo spoke the traditional vows, which Sam and Rosie repeated after him. Freddy, watching, saw his cousin's face grow sober as he intoned, '...until I've drunk the last drop in the cup, and no more days remain to me... as long as life shall last, until I take my last breath of the sweet air.' He wondered what Frodo was thinking.

After the ceremony, Mr and Mrs Samwise Gamgee stood beneath the mallorn tree to receive the congratulations of the guests, and then the feasting and singing and dancing and merrymaking began, lasting well into the night. Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took distinguished themselves (if you could call it that) by composing a tune for the happy couple and singing it to them at the top of their voices, having quaffed more wine than was good for them, perhaps. As a matter of fact, Mr Merry danced upon a tabletop, all over one of Mrs Cotton's best tablecloths, and in full sight of all the guests. It was the talk of the Shire, reaching all the way to Brandy Hall, to the distress of the Master of Buckland, who shook his head over this report of the antics of his son.

Frodo, Pippin, and Sam, on the other hand, were glad to see Merry evidently recovered from the state he'd been in a little more than a month before. Freddy, too, was in high spirits, partaking freely at the groaning tables of festive food, washing it all down with the fine wine and ale provided for the occasion. He grew a bit tipsy, indeed, and fixing Frodo with an unsteady eye, asked, 'So, cousin, tell me, when will I be dancing at your wedding?'

Sharp Mistress Cotton, standing nearby, heard the question and saw a shadow of sorrow cross Frodo's face. Before he could formulate some sort of answer for his cousin, she swept him into the dance, crying, 'You have not danced yet at my Rosie's wedding, Mayor Frodo! I am claiming this dance!' Freddy laughed and turned back to the feast.

When the dance finished, Frodo was out of breath, and Mrs Cotton steered him to a bench. 'Are you all right, Mr Frodo?' she asked in alarm.

'Fine, fine,' he waved her concern away, taking out his pocket handkerchief to wipe his face. 'It's rather warm for the First of May, I find.'

'Let me get you a cool drink,' she said, and before he could gainsay her she'd moved away to complete her mission of mercy. Frodo did feel better after downing the cool water, fresh from the well at Bag End, and he sat and sang with the rest, laughing and clapping and watching the dancers swirl until the torches burned low and the morning star appeared on the horizon.

Sam and Rosie had stolen away from the party in the middle night, though they listened long to the merriment through the open windows of Bag End. About the time the last of the merrymakers were seeking their pillows, Sam and Rose were rising from their bed to face the new day. It was a day off from their duties, Mr Frodo had made that clear, and while the cousins were still peacefully slumbering, Sam and Rose packed up a picnic and walked to a secluded spot on the other side of the Hill to enjoy the first of many days... together.