His knees buckled. Frodo would have collapsed to the ground if Sam hadn't been there to catch him. His eyes were dry, but he shook in Sam's arms and the sickening feeling of being back in Mordor crossed Sam's mind. Rosie appeared beside them, her hand resting on Frodo's forehead.
"Please understand, cousin," Rosie said, speaking softly. "There's something you need to know." When Frodo didn't respond, Rosie glanced up at Sam in dismay. He shook his head, and gave her a look of 'leave him be'.
It took time, but they finally led Frodo inside the Cottons' home. Mrs. Cotton brought a cup of water, but Sam waved it away. "Mr. Frodo," he started, grasping his master's hands in his. "I need you to listen. Dulcie isn't all the way gone. A piece of her is still here?"
"What do you mean?" Frodo asked barely audible, his eyes holding glazed over in horror.
"Dulcie had a baby - your daughter."
"But-"
"She found herself carrying six weeks after you left," Rosie interrupted. "She was worried that something happened to you in the Old Forest, but Dulcie always believed you'd come home." Rosie raised her head to look at Sam. "As I did."
Frodo clutched at his chest, breathing rapidly. "She had a baby?"
"Yes," Rosie answered, smoothing back the curls on his forehead. "The baby is named after your mother. Dulcie thought you'd be pleased by it. We call her Primmie, for short. She's a beautiful little lass."
"Where is she?"
"Sleeping in Rose's bedroom," Mrs. Cotton interjected, hesitantly. "Would you like to see her?"
Frodo nodded, and pushed himself off chair Sam had set him on. Sam went to grab his master's arm, but Frodo pushed him away. He followed Mrs. Cotton to the first bedroom on the left. The door was open, and a lamp was burning on a table. A small crib sat against the all near the door. Mrs. Cotton peered into the crib, gently laying a hand on the sleeping babe's back.
"She's such a sweet lass, our little Primmie. Just like her mother, she is-" she looked up, giving Frodo a warm smile, "and her father. Do you wish to be alone with her?"
"Yes," Frodo said, gravely. He cleared his throat and repeated, "Yes. Please."
Mrs. Cotton swept from the room, lightly shutting the door. Frodo stood rooted to his spot. All he could see was a blanket in the crib. He inched closer, a tiny pink face coming into view. He stared at the perfect, round face scrunched up in sleep. He tentatively leaned over the crib, and ran a feather-light finger across the babe's cheek.
The little wisps of curls on her head were a sandy brown color. Just like Dulcie's - Frodo mused, his first clear thought since he rode up to the Cotton's farm.
Just like Dulcie's…
"Good day!" Frodo called cheerfully, as he strolled to the tree Dulcie was leaning against.
Dulcie jumped to her feet, curtsying. "Good day to you as well!"
Frodo bowed his head then asked curiously, "Why aren't you at the Cotton's today?"
"I stayed home with Daisy to take care of chores around the smial," she answered then blushed. "I told Daisy I needed some time alone, and the dear lass waved me out the door. I feel awful for leaving her to take care of things."
"I'm sure she'll be fine for an hour." Frodo dipped into his pockets and pulled out an awkward object wrapped in a napkin. He unwrapped it, and held it out to Dulcie. "Seedcake? I always bring some along when I come here."
Dulcie smiled, shyly tucking a curl behind her ear. Frodo felt a warmth in his chest at the action, and hoped he wasn't blushing. "Thank you," she said, taking one then lightly sat back down on the ground. She took a bite. "It's really good. Who made it?"
"My Uncle Bilbo," Frodo answered, proudly. He seated himself in front of her. "He can bake the best treats."
"I haven't met Mr. Bilbo yet."
"Well, you'll have to come over and introduce yourself." When Dulcie looked intimidated by the idea, Frodo added, "I'll introduce you, if that is all right."
Dulcie nodded. "That would be lovely. What book is that?" she asked, spotting the blue-covered book with golden letters in Frodo's hand.
"Oh!" He raised the book up. "Stories about the Elves of the 1st Age. Have you ever heard of Elves?"
"I have, but not much. Will you read me some?"
A brilliant smile broke on Frodo's face. "You really would like to hear a tale?"
Dulcie stared at him for a moment then nodded. "If you don't mind."
"Not at all!" Frodo flipped open the book, searching for a certain story. "I've never met a lass - or really anyone besides Sam - who was interested in hearing tales of the Elves."
Dulcie giggled at his excitement. "I like tales. I don't get to hear them often, so it really is a pleasure."
"You'll enjoy this one." Frodo went on to read of Feanor and the Silmarils. Dulcie listened intently, idly twirling a lock of hair in her finger. Frodo glanced over the book at her, and paused at the sight. It was odd how a simple action could make a frog jump into your throat.
"Frodo?" Dulcie called, and he shook himself out of his reverie.
"Sorry. Lost my place," he said, covering for his pause. The image of Dulcie's fingers in her curls did not leave him for the rest of the day.
Frodo gently placed a hand on his daughter's downy head. He couldn't remember what came over him, but he realized suddenly that the babe was in his arms. He slowly stepped to the rocking chair in the corner, and sat down.
"Primmie," he murmured, and sighed feeling this was more a dream than real. He and Dulcie weren't sure if they wanted children, but knew if it happened, they'd love the child with all their might. When Dulcie never became pregnant, they knew having children wasn't meant to be.
Frodo wondered if this was some kind of cruel punishment for his decision to keep the Ring. Dulcie was alive when I was standing at the cracks of Mount Doom. Now she's dead. A painful stab shot through his heart, and without knowing, he clutched the babe tighter to his chest.
Just then, the door flung open and Rosie rushed inside. "Frodo, what are you doing?" she asked, worried