For the next year and more, Nel kept up a correspondence with Hobbiton. She sent her finest baked goods to the master of Bag End, and he sent her the best flour from the newly restored Mill. They did meet at times, usually public events. Even as early as that first autumn, however, Nel could see for herself what Frodo had tried to warn her of earlier. He was indeed failing. The entire Shire had rebounded with fervor; he alone seemed to shrink. His skin grew more pale and drawn, his figure less robust at each meeting. The knowledge pierced her heart, even as it made her feelings towards him more tender.
Aware of the maddening lack of respect, she defended Frodo vigorously to anyone who dared to pronounce that Captains Meriadoc or Peregrin had done more to free the Shire, or that Sam Gamgee had done more to heal it. Hadn't Frodo along with Sam been recognized by the High King? Wasn't he an Elf friend and the rest? She'd heard it all from Pippin. It vexed her that so few of her neighbors thought further than what they could see in front of their own noses. This quiet, self-effacing hobbit had been through more than any of them, and Nel seemed to be one of the few who realized it.
Not long after Frodo's Waymeet visit, she looked into the fate of Filibert. She had found herself thinking about him more and more after her conversation with Frodo, and at length followed up through his family in Whitwell. He had married, as she had expected. He had two little ones, still living in their new home in Little Delving. However, his wife had died in childbed with their third during the Troubles, a scant two weeks before Frodo freed Nel from the Lockholes. Filibert had been greatly affected by the loss. Nel was finally able to meet them all in person at the next Free Fair, the summer after Frodo had resigned his office of Deputy Mayor.
"I was so sorry to hear about the Lockholes," Filibert said, after their initial greetings. "I didn't know you'd been taken at the time."
"No one knew, outside of Tookland," she replied. "I reported a false name. It was impossible to do otherwise, given the situation." She lowered her voice. "And I'm very sorry to hear of your loss. Primrose was an admirable lass, by every account."
"She was." Filibert's eyes did not mist; time had softened the blow. Quietly he said, "She might have made it, had we better food, and if I could have convinced the midwife to come as early as we wanted her. But everyone feared to break the Rules then. Thank goodness your brother came back when he did. It was too late for dear Prim, but he saved many other lives, I dare say."
"Yes. All of Pippin's friends did their share."
He nodded, accepting. "It's good to see you looking so well, Nel." His smile was sad, but there was lightness beneath, like thin clouds veiling the sun. Within minutes, the little ones demanded his attention, and they all four went off to play at the games.
Nel saw Frodo briefly later in the day. He stood quietly on one side, wearing that Elven cloak that he favored on High days, and clasping his jeweled necklace the way he did. He noticed Nel over the intervening crowd, and nodded. His smile was also sad, but there was nothing lighter behind it, only pain and a shut door.
-0-0-0-
From that day, Nel's thoughts were divided between Little Delving and Bag End. She now regularly made two sets of deliveries, one to either town. Bag End continued to send her grain, but Little Delving reciprocated in its own way, with childish pictures sent as thank-you notes to Auntie Nel. Late in the summer, Filibert stopped in to say hello on his way to Whitwell to visit his kin. Nel thought about his visit for a whole day, then closed up shop and went to visit her own sister in Whitwell. Vinca was most penetrating in her guest selection, and arranged many conducive gatherings. By the end of the visit, Nel began to understand her own heart, and Filibert's as well.
Still, it was hard to leave Frodo on his own. She had a tenderness for him that grew fonder over the years, if less passionate. She worried over him, almost as a brother. Now, in early October, Filibert had invited Nel to visit him in Little Delving. She had little doubt as to how such an invitation must develop. This was it, the crossroads, her deciding point. She read again Filibert's kind invitation, then looked at the open door of her bedroom. The candle on the kitchen table did not throw sufficient light to illuminate it, but she remembered the whispers and caresses, the joy tinged with pain. Filibert had also suffered, but his heart Nel knew she could heal. Frodo's, she feared, would be forever beyond her reach.
Someone rapped at the front door. It was full dark, far too late for visitors. Concerned, Nel hurried to the door. Her surprise upon opening it was great. "Pippin!"
He stooped and kissed her cheek. "Might I come in?"
"Of course! But whatever are you doing here? I thought you were in Crickhollow."
"Sam, Merry and I are on our road back to Hobbiton. We're staying at the inn."
"Back to Hobbiton! This is a strange road from Crickhollow. Why did you not all come? Here, let me make you some tea."
"We didn't ride from Crickhollow. Stay a moment, Nel; I have something to tell you."
Nel looked at her brother closely. His usual heartiness was gone. She was seeing a rare glimpse of the new Pippin, the one who had come back altered from his travels—older, wiser, someone who had seen suffering and knew what it was like.
Suddenly, the significance of his list of companions struck her. She froze. "Frodo," she whispered. "Has something…?"
Swiftly, Pippin guided her to a chair. The smell of bread was heavy on the air. Nel found it hard to breathe.
Pippin sat opposite her, and took her hands in his. "I do have something to tell you about Frodo, but it's not the worst news. Bad enough for us, but better for him, I think."
"What do you mean? I want answers, not riddles!"
Pippin sighed, and met her eyes. "The three of us are on our way home, from the Grey Havens."
-0-0-0-
Later that night, Nel finished her letter to Filibert. Yes, I will certainly come. She addressed it mechanically, her mind dull and a great emptiness in her chest. She kissed the envelope, and laid it on the table. Then she lowered her head on her arms, and wept.