A Time for Celebrations
Frodo righted his vest as he and Allie came to a stop before the double doors leading into Brandy Hall's main dining room. His blood still ran hot from their latest debacles. After Allie learned that premature lovemaking broke about every Shire tradition surrounding wedlock, she had turned wickedly hot-blooded, feral even. She'd always had a penchant for breaking the rules, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to Frodo, but the aftermath still left him spent, as though he'd run five miles in front of three enraged oliphants.
Frodo threw Allie a sidelong glance. She'd changed into a fresh white shirt tucked into black trousers. Her hair, usually up in a ponytail, presently flowed down her shoulders in golden ringlets. Splotches of pink adorned her cheeks, and Frodo bit back an endearing smile, knowing he wasn't the only one affected by their bedroom activities. His smile widened when he thought about what their friends had in store for Allie. She believed tonight's banquet to be a celebration for settling matters with her father, so she was in for a surprise.
"Ready?" Frodo asked with one hand on the door.
Allie winked. "Lead the way, sir."
Frodo pushed open the double doors. Allie paused when utter darkness reigned instead of the laughter, lights and banter that she must be expecting. "This is the right dining hall, isn't it?" she asked Frodo.
"Yes, no mistake," Frodo said as he stepped in.
"Where is everyone?" Allie asked with brows furrowed. Frodo sensed the tension emanating off her and could almost see her war-trained instincts kicking into gear as she squinted at the shadows in the hall. Frodo understood such reflexes. On occasion, he too would reach for a sword that no longer existed at a sudden sound or movement in his surroundings.
Allie stepped in front of Frodo when a feeble light flickered into existence at the far corner of the room. "What's that?" she asked in a tight voice. A second light came alight next to the first, and then a third. Soon, the whole space in front of them had turned into a sea of lights.
One of the lights detached itself from the rest and closed in on them. As it neared, Merry's beaming face took shape from the darkness. The source of the light revealed itself as a small candle on a wooden plate that Merry held in both hands. Under Allie's stunned gaze, he opened his mouth and began to sing her happy birthday. The rest of the hidden crowd joined in, their merry voices filling the hall and echoing warmly against the walls.
Frodo laughed when Allie turned two wide eyes upon him, absolutely clueless. He sobered up in time to join the others as the song reached its grand finale.
When the last note fell, courtesy of Fatty's baritone voice, everyone clapped, and a few whistled from the back. The maids lit up the torches lining the walls, revealing a banquet already set upon the dining table, as well as a sea of friendly faces smiling back at them.
"Why are you singing happy birthday? It's not my birthday today," Allie said, more confused by the second.
"Of course it is," Frodo said. "The first snow is falling."
A sparkle steadily grew in her grey eyes, and she brought a hand to her chest, moved.
Frodo ruffled her hair. "You don't think I'd have forgotten, do you?"
"I…" she shrugged. "It's just been so long since…"
"I gave you this birthday. I'd never forget, even if a hundred years come and pass."
"Thank you." Allie then turned to the sea of familiar faces, her eyes moist. "Thank you all. I mean it."
Merry rushed over and passed an arm around her neck to hug her tight. "You were rightly shocked, weren't you, Allie? When Frodo told us he'd given you a birthday on the day of the first snow, I was utterly astonished by how romantic this lad can be. Then again, I'm not surprised." He winked at Frodo. "You have always been a sensitive soul."
Frodo waved him away with a blush. "Stop talking nonsense, Merry."
Merry laughed. "Is that how you treat your friend who scrambled to prepare this feast?" he signaled to the candles and the abundant food.
Frodo had to admit Merry had done a splendid job in the little time they had. "You definitely organized things quicker than I thought possible."
Merry pumped out his chest. "Of course. What do you take me for? A little surprise birthday party is no challenge at all for the future Master of Buckland."
Sam guided Allie over to the table and sat her down. "We have prepared a cake, too."
He motioned to a three-layered strawberry cake adorned with a circle of little candles that sat at the center of the table. "You should make a wish and blow them out."
Put on the spot, Allie just stared back at Sam owlishly. "Make a wish?"
"Oh, have you never done this before? It is customary to make a wish and blow off the candles. So you go ahead, Allie."
Allie looked around at the expectant faces until her gaze fell on Frodo, standing slightly in retreat. Come to think of it, she'd celebrated her birthday with lights on the water, thanks to Frodo, but never with a cake. Frodo gave her an encouraging nod. Allie clasped her hands together like a little kid and closed her eyes.
For a long while, she remained silent. Frodo wondered what she was wishing for. When Allie opened her eyes again, two streams of tears flowed down her cheeks, though she seemed unaware. She smiled at them and then inhaled deeply to blow the candles out, a feat she managed in one shot. She looked up, still beaming, though her tears kept on flowing. They clung a second to her chin before dripping down onto the white tablecloth, creating a patch of darkening stains.
A few people clapped hesitantly, unsure how to react.
Frodo pushed past Fatty to reach her. "Allie, are you all right?"
"Yes, of course!" she said merrily. "Thank you so much for preparing all this. I have a feeling this is a night I won't forget."
"But… Allie, you are crying," Berilac said softly beside her.
Allie blinked in surprise, making more tears spill. She touched a hand to her moist cheeks. "Oh. You are right. I…" She looked up at Frodo's concerned face, and her smile trembled. "I… I guess… I'm sorry. I just need a minute."
She rushed past them all while wiping at her eyes.
"Allie!" Merry called after her, but Allie had already disappeared past the double doors.
A stunned silence greeted her sudden departure.
"Did we do something wrong?" Estella asked from beside Fatty.
"I think she is just overwhelmed," Frodo said with a reassuring smile toward the worried guests. "She's never been on the receiving end of a birthday party before. Why don't you all get started with dinner? I will go make sure she is all right."
Berilac gave a nod. "Yes, you better do that."
Frodo hurried after Allie. As the double doors closed behind him and the gloom of the empty hallway welcomed his gaze, his smile slowly faded. Allie was not one to cry easily. Something must have afflicted her greatly. She may put on a strong façade, but the truth was that she, too, had lost a great many things. It was easy to forget it with her easy nature and brazen personality.
Allie strode through the woods in the gathering dark. Even after all these years of absence, she still knew the landscape of Buckland like the back of her hand. Places where she used to explore and roam as a child, corners of the woods no one else ventured to, were like best friends she hadn't seen for awhile yet never forgotten.
The tears continued to pour down her cheeks, freezing before they could drip off her face. She wiped them away with a frustrated hand and inhaled the cold winter air to try and calm herself. "What's wrong with you?" she groaned out loud. Why couldn't she stop crying all of a sudden? She hadn't even noticed until Berilac had pointed it out. And then all her friends, some whom she hadn't seen in years, all stood there shell-shocked, wondering how to react.
She could die of embarrassment. Trudging through knee-deep snow, she shut her eyes and half-grunted, half-sobbed in frustration. What on earth was wrong with her?
By all accounts, she should be elated. The surprise birthday party had given her so much joy, enough to almost make her heart combust. Then came time to make that wish. She'd had no idea what to wish for. It seemed she had it all in that moment; a warm roof over her head, a circle of friends who cared enough to prepare such a feast for her birthday; and of course, the person she loved more than anything, beaming back at her softly from the back of the room.
She really had it all. Except…
"If only Pippin could have been here, too," she'd thought. He'd always wanted to celebrate her birthday in hobbit-fashion. Right before she bit him and turned him into a wolf, he'd said, with his green eyes sparkling with excitement, that he would love for her to move to Tuckborough so they could celebrate their birthdays together.
"Make a wish," Sam had said.
So she'd closed her eyes and wished for Pippin to be here. Except, of course, that was a silly wish that would never come true.
More tears poured out of her eyes, and she gave up on wiping them away. Sobbing and trembling, since she hadn't even grabbed her coat in her rush to head out, she walked along the changed yet familiar trails in the snow-covered forest.
Her steps eventually led her in front of a meadow. Even under four inches of fresh snow, she recognized that ring of short, stout trees in a heartbeat. A lifetime ago, after venturing into the local cemetery with their friends, Frodo and her had come through these woods. He'd led her to the meadow beyond this ring of trees and the fireflies it contained.
Allie parted the low branches heavy with snow. When she'd set foot here the first time, a million fireflies had stitched the dark, and even in her moment of extreme fear, she'd realized they were beautiful. For a Bree-bred child such as herself, that may have been the first time she had been stunned into utter speechlessness by Nature's beauty.
The fireflies did not appear this time, of course. They were children of summer, and would die long before fall morphed into winter. Allie stepped inside the clearing and then paused. It had begun to snow again, big white flakes that fell like feathers. Night had almost completely fallen and darkness gathered in the forest around her.
She hugged her arms to her chest, shivering. She'd no doubt ruined the evening for her friends, after they had gone through so much trouble to prepare the feast. Some had even come from far away. It had been rude of her to depart in such fashion.
A warm coat draped over her shoulders, and she twirled around to see Frodo behind her, drawing the coat close around her. "Silly lass," he said, panting slightly with snow caught in his dark hair. "How could you run off like that without even your coat? You aren't a wolf anymore."
Allie was not surprised in the least to see him. She'd stopped being amazed at how he tended to appear like magic, as though her mind could conjure him up whenever she needed comfort. She didn't ask him how he knew she'd be here, and he didn't volunteer that information. Instead, he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped away the tears clinging to her cheeks.
"Do you remember this place?" he asked instead with a soft glint to his blue eyes.
"It's the place where you gave me a present for the first time."
"A present?"
"A firefly. You told me to hold on to it until we returned to camp."
Frodo let out a soft chuckle. "You do remember everything."
"Every little detail."
She remembered the glow in Frodo's eyes as he'd handed her the firefly. Back then, she was a child who knew nothing about love or attraction, but she'd found his eyes to be mesmerizing, even then. They contained a tenderness and empathy she'd never seen in anyone else's gaze before. That look alone had warmed her heart more thoroughly than a thousand fireflies.
Allie couldn't see Frodo's eyes well now in the night, but just knew he had the same look he did back then. She stroked his cool cheek with her thumb. "I don't know what happened to me back there. I guess I'm not made for joyous occasions anymore."
Frodo wrapped his arms around her with a sigh. "You thought of Pippin, didn't you?"
Allie tensed for a second in his arms, then let out a ragged exhale. "I really can't hide anything from you, can I?"
Frodo gave her back a gentle pat. "You don't need to hold back. Better cry and get it out of your system."
"I've done enough of that already," Allie said, but her eyes began to sting again even though she tried her best to stay calm.
Frodo rocked her gently from side to side and Allie pressed her face into the front of his coat. "It's just… seeing all our old friends gathered in the same place made his absence all the more obvious. I've never celebrated any birthday with him, not even once. When we became wolves, things such as birthdays ceased to exist. I know that bringing him back to the Shire was already a miracle in itself, but I just wish… just this once… that he could have been here. He would have loved that strawberry cake…"
She was crying again. She couldn't help it. Frodo just hugged her tighter, making shushing sounds in a thick voice. Now she'd gone and made him cry, too.
"I'm sorry…" she stuttered. "It was supposed to be such a happy occasion, but…"
"Don't you dare say you ruined it," Frodo cut her off. "I miss him too, Allie. I wish, more than anything, that he could still be here today."
Talking about Pippin's passing so openly was re-opening the fresh wound in Allie's heart. She'd tried her best not to think of Pippin since his passing, for the mere mention of him had the power to drive her to her knees, no matter the time or circumstance. Sometimes the wave of grief came so unexpectedly that all she could do was dig her nails into her palm, brace for it to pass and hope that it would leave her unscathed.
And now, standing in this clearing with Frodo, those waves crashed upon her shore relentlessly. They were small at first, small enough that she thought she could withstand them, but with each cycle they grew in magnitude, until all she could do was grip Frodo's shoulders and let them burst out of her like the wolf used to do when it took her over.
Frodo pressed her sobbing head to his chest and rocked her harder still, though she barely felt the motion. All she could see was Pippin's innocent, playful eyes smiling back at her. "Can't you reconsider moving here for a time?" his voice drifted back to her from the past, clear as bell chimes. "I have never yet celebrated my birthday with you."
Allie wanted to reach out to that young Pippin, to take his hand and promise him that of course, they should celebrate their birthdays together, not just once, but every single year, from now on until they grew old. But Pippin was gone now, locked inside that wild auburn wolf that had walked away from her in the cemetery without a single glance back. Never again would she see those green eyes or hear his cheery voice calling out her name. Never again would she feel his warm fur against her face as he galloped away through the fields faster than any Meara. In the end, she hadn't fulfilled a single promise to him, not even that silly one about re-carving his face in the stone.
"I p-promised him I'd fix the carving," she sobbed against Frodo. "I promised him I'd make it better, but I never g-got around to it."
She swallowed hard, conscious that her words must make no sense to Frodo at all.
Frodo caressed her hair and whispered in her ear, "Do it now then. It's not too late."
Allie sniffed and looked back at Frodo through a mask of tears. "W-what?"
Frodo wiped her face clean with his scarf very gently. "That carving you couldn't fix for him, can't you do it now?"
Allie thought back to the silly face she'd carved upon a stone as a child. Her first present to Pippin. "Y-yes, I suppose I could."
"Do it, then. It will help you feel better."
Allie gave a nod. It sounded absolutely silly and useless, but suddenly she very much felt like fixing that carving for Pippin. This time around, she'd make him the most handsome lad in all the Shire. Well, perhaps only second to Frodo.
Once she was done, she'd leave it by his headstone in the Took cemetery. Pippin would have no reason for complaints this time around. She would see to it.
Frodo must have seen the resolution on her face, for he cleared the last smears of tears from her cheeks. "That's my lass," he said with a small smile.
Allie snuggled close to him, let his warmth engulf her whole. Once again, she was so thankful for his presence in this world. No one had ever, or could ever, give her as much comfort with a few simple words as Frodo could.
"Do you want to go back to the banquet?" Frodo asked against her hair. "Or I could ask for food to be brought to our room, if you'd like."
Allie shook her head vehemently, making some snowflakes fly off her curls. "No. Our friends came on such short notice. I've been impolite enough as it is. I shall go back to the hall and at least have a piece of my first birthday cake."
Frodo took her by the hand. In the dark, she couldn't see his smile, but felt it in her heart. "The first cake perhaps, but certainly not the last," he said.
Allie gave his hand a grateful squeeze. Perhaps not the last, but she gathered there weren't many more birthdays left for her to celebrate. Had it been four months already since her meeting with Galadriel?
Soon enough, a year would pass by, and then two, and then four. And then… she looked at Frodo's back walking in front of her. She only hoped she'd get the chance to say goodbye. She didn't want to disappear suddenly, out of the blue, like Pippin had done to her. Except she had no idea how she could avoid that fate.
When Frodo and Allie arrived back in Brandy Hall, the party was in full swing, much to Frodo's relief. It seemed the fine wine from the Master's cellar had made their friends forget about Allie's precipitous departure. The guests conversed, laughed and danced around the banquet table. Allie gave his hand a small squeeze, all traces of tears now gone from her smiling face, before running toward Merry, Fatty and Berilac playing a game by the main table. Merry saw her coming and welcomed her back with a big hug.
A familiar face in the crowd made Frodo do a double take. His mouth fell agape at recognizing the wizard. "Gandalf!?" he exclaimed, not quite believing his eyes.
Gandalf, for indeed it was him, rose from his chair and cleared the cloud of smoke in front of his face. He then beamed down merrily at his stunned face. "My dear Frodo," he said with open arms.
Frodo marched forth and let the wizard engulf him in a big, warm hug. The air around Gandalf smelled strongly of pipe weed, the scent seeming to imbibe his very robes as Frodo buried his face in them. "How did you know to come?" he asked once he'd put some distance between them.
"A certain young lady wrote to me," he said with a wink.
Frodo threw a puzzling glance back at Allie, who flashed him a knowing smile and then went back to her conversation with Fatty. He had an inkling as to why Allie had done that, but he didn't want to contemplate it. For now, he intended to enjoy the wizard's company. "Well, no matter the reason for your presence, I'm very glad you've come. Have you eaten yet?" he asked, eyeing the still half-full banquet table. Merry had prepared enough food to feed half of Buckland.
Gandalf waved off the offer. "Just some tea will do at this hour."
Frodo motioned to one of the maids, who came and took his order, before departing back to the kitchen. Gandalf walked over to a set of cozy chairs in the corner of the room, close to the fireplace.
Frodo plopped down on the second chair. Soon, tea arrived, and Gandalf put down his pipe to take a careful sip of the hot beverage.
"How is your hand?" the wizard inquired once he set his cup down.
Frodo flexed his blackened fingers beneath the bandages. "As good as it will ever be, I suppose."
"Does it still get cold?"
"Occasionally," Frodo answered carefully, wondering how much Allie had shared in her letters.
Gandalf studied him intently. "If the cold spreads to your arm or the rest of your body, you should take some athelas-infused tea without delay. I trust you know where to find such herbs in the Shire?"
"I don't, but I'm fairly certain Sam does."
"Good. That is good."
Frodo leaned close to the wizard and whispered, "Have you found anything of importance in Orthanc concerning wolves or the Blood? Some written records that Saruman has left behind, perhaps?"
"Regretfully, not. The flood destroyed much of the archives. The tower itself is hanging by a thread. It will require physical labor and magic to salvage it."
By the looks of Gandalf's haggard face, Frodo knew that was magic Gandalf no longer had. Not just in Orthanc, but magic seemed to be fading from all corners of Middle-earth. With the elves leaving for the Undying Lands and the dwarves heading back to their kingdoms, Frodo worried soon the world might soon forget magic even existed. That prospect scared him more than anything else. What if the decline in magic precipitated the demise of Emel-Nimloth? What if the petals fell sooner than Galadriel had predicted?
Gandalf may have read his mind, for he said, "Frodo, you shall not let baseless concerns weigh you down. I know of your fears, but if you let them consume you, it will undo Galadriel's work. Do you understand?"
Frodo did. If he lived in fear instead of enjoying every moment he had left with Allie, it would only tarnish the last years of her life. He could not do that to her or to himself. Back in Lothlorien, he'd sworn not to get greedy, yet a secret corner of his heart couldn't help but yearn for another miracle.
Gandalf rested his hand upon Frodo's. The weight of his giant palm conferred some comfort upon him. The warm glow from the fireplace danced in his benevolent eyes. "Lad, you still carry the weight of the War within you, as well as the darkness from your injuries and the pain that is yet to come." The wizard's gaze turned deep as the sea. "If your suffering becomes too great to bear, there are… ways of easing it. Of acquiring peace. Come to me then, if such a time arises."
Frodo just stared back into the wizard's timeless gaze. Had Gandalf guessed the demons that haunted him? He'd chased away a lot of them, but their roots remained affixed upon his soul. He could feel them, like shadows without faces lurking in the back of his mind. A moment of weakness, and they might come knocking again. He put his tea down and looked at Gandalf. "I don't understand what you mean."
"There are some wounds that go so deep not even time can mend them. You know of what I speak, don't you, lad?"
Suddenly the room seemed darker, the echoes of laughter further away, as though drifting over a tunnel. "Yes," Frodo said, rubbing at the bandages on his right hand.
"There exists a place where such wounds can be mended, but it is not anywhere here in Middle-earth."
Frodo didn't know how, but he understood immediately what Gandalf left unsaid.
"The Undying Lands," he whispered under his breath.
"There will be a place left for you on the last ship that shall sail across the sea. It will be yours to take, if such is your desire."
"And Allie?"
Gandalf shook his head. "Her life is linked to Middle-earth. It is here that she shall remain."
"Then I shall too," Frodo declared in an unwavering voice. "I shall not go to a place where she cannot follow."
"Even when she is no longer here?"
Frodo tapped a finger upon the armrest.
Gandalf reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "You don't need to make up your mind right this instant. Think on it. You will have many years to make your decision." He resumed smoking. "Ah, before I forget, this is an invitation that extends over to your uncle Bilbo. For services rendered."
"I will pass along the invitation when I next see him," Frodo said, though his mind still lingered upon Gandalf's proposal.
"In the meantime, there are other ways to assuage the demons that plague you."
Frodo blinked, focusing again on the present. "I am doing better in that regard."
"I am glad to hear that, though there is no shame in asking for help if you need to. Athelas is a good remedy for most physical ailments, even the after-effects of the Black Mark. But other sicknesses take deeper roots. You will have to dig profoundly within yourself if you want to get rid of them." Gandalf took another sip of his now lukewarm tea.
Frodo bit his lip and said nothing.
Gandalf crossed his long fingers together. "I see you are reluctant to open up even to me. But Frodo, remember this. In this world, there is one person each of us can confide in." Gandalf smiled at Frodo's confused face and tapped a finger to his chest. "Ourselves."
On that note, Gandalf rose and stretched his back. "Well, I shall get myself a piece of that strawberry cake after all."
Frodo barely heard the wizard leave, very much plunged in his own thoughts. Yes, even before Gandalf told him he could confide in himself, he'd already thought to write down his experiences. Perhaps putting everything down on paper would help him sort out his thoughts and free himself from some of the pain.
Just like how Uncle Bilbo used to chronicle his own adventures in the Red Book, perhaps he could do something similar. He could even continue Bilbo's story where his uncle had left off. A kind of archive of his own journey and all the historical events tied to it.
February
Allie knocked on the door to the Cotton family's farm and waited, shifting from one foot to the other to warm up. She'd forgotten how cold the winters in the Shire could get. In fact, she hadn't been this cold in years. She gave the door another impatient knock and rubbed her gloved hands together. The sound of running footsteps arose from the other side, coming ever closer, and then Rosie yanked it open with a smile so blinding Allie almost had to shield her eyes.
"Rosie, I heard you wanted to see me…" she started.
Rosie pulled her inside without preamble. Once the door shut behind her, and without giving her time to remove her coat, Rosie grabbed both of her hands and squealed more than said, "He asked me, Allie. He finally asked me."
Allie laughed in confusion. "Who asked you what?"
Rosie gave her hands a hard shake. "Sam! He finally asked me to marry him!" She let go of Allie's hands and twirled on herself with her hands to her chest. "I almost gave up hope he ever would. He hasn't even asked me out yet, but then he goes straight to the proposal? He's either the most clueless or the bravest person to ever exist."
Allie let out an incredulous laugh. "I can't believe he finally got around to it! How did he propose? Where? Rosie, you have to tell me everything."
Rosie nodded, her happiness almost palpable. "Of course, that's why I sent word for you. Oh dear, where have my manners gone?" She hurried to help Allie out of her coat and hung her hat on one of the hooks near the entrance. "Come, I will tell you everything over tea."
Once they both settled in Rosie's room with a cup a warm tea in hand, Allie inched forward. "So? Start from the beginning."
Rosie rubbed her hands together, her smile growing ever larger if that were possible.
"Well, do you remember how I told you last time that we had spent Yule's night together, just the two of us, but nothing came of it? I was utterly disappointed that he didn't even ask me out, let alone propose. Ever since then, I ignored his invitations to spend time together because of how mad I was."
Allie nodded. She remembered all too well, for that was all Rosie talked about after Yule.
"So, yesterday evening, Sam suddenly shows up at the farm at the peak of the snowstorm. Imagine my surprise at that! He'd walked all the way here from the Gamgee residence, and he had so much snow on him he looked like a snowman. I felt bad turning him away, so I invited him in. Without even removing his coat, he suddenly drops down to one knee." Rosie nibbled her lower lip, but couldn't contain the giddy smile that bloomed across her face. "He said, word for word, 'Rosie, please forgive me, for I have wronged you greatly with my indecision. I know you have not been keen to see me lately, but I beg you to hear me out.'"
Allie laughed out loud. She could just imagine Sam saying that in a repentant tone.
"Then he said, 'The truth is, Rosie, there is something I have been meaning to tell you for a long time. When I was away on my journey, many were the times I thought all to be lost and I would not live to see another dawn, but always the thought of you bloomed to the forefront of my mind and helped me find the strength to persevere and find my way back to you. I could not die before telling you that I have loved you for a very long time. You have always been the source of my courage and the reason for my happiness. Today I kneel in front of you and ask you, Rose Cotton, from the bottom of my humble heart, whether you would grant me the honor of becoming my wife.'"
"Rosie, you actually remember all he said word for word?"
"Every word is engraved in my memory forever," Rosie said with a hand to her chest. "Look at this!" She showed Allie the golden ring sitting upon her fourth finger. "Isn't this just the prettiest thing you have ever seen?"
Allie eyed the ring and for a second a different golden ring flashed to the forefront of her mind. She stifled the grimace that threatened to overtake her features and plastered a big smile over her face instead. "It is beautiful, Rosie. I suppose you answered him yes right away?"
"I told him it was about time he asked. Any more waiting, and I was going to propose to him myself."
Allie hugged her friend close and blinked away the sting in her eyes. "I am so happy for you, Rosie. I know you have waited years to hear these words. You have liked Sam even before I knew I liked Frodo."
Rosie hugged her back fiercely with a joyful laugh. "I certainly did."
"You deserve every bit of happiness."
Allie pulled away and grinned at Rosie from ear to ear. Rosie grinned back, let out an excited squeal, and hugged Allie again. "I'm so happy I could burst! I had to tell you straight away."
"When will the wedding take place?"
"We are thinking sometime in the spring. My brothers have started planning already. They are more excited about it than I am," she finished with an indulgent roll of her beautiful hazel eyes.
She then gave Allie's hand a squeeze. "Will you be there for me, my friend?"
"Do you really need to ask? Of course, I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world."
Rosie sat back, exhaled deeply to calm herself, and finally took a sip of her now lukewarm tea. "So, what about you and Frodo?"
Allie's smile faded slightly. "What about us?"
"Any big plans for the both of you?"
Allie had always known she wanted to spend the rest of her short life with Frodo, but somehow marriage had never entered her mind. She shrugged. "I don't think we will get married."
Rosie's smile fell. "Why on earth not? Knowing Frodo, he is probably planning something right now."
Allie highly doubted it. Ever since Gandalf's visit, Frodo had started writing his journey in Bilbo's Red Book. Most days, he remained cooped up in Bilbo's old study, poring over maps of Middle-earth. He reminded her much of how Bilbo used to be. Sometimes, he requested her presence to confirm specific details of specific events and she was always more than happy to help.
Frodo may have a hard time talking about the war, but he didn't seem to have the same qualms when he put it into writing. Perhaps the endeavor felt academical rather than personal. In any case, it was helping him come to the terms with the complex feelings he had a hard time saying aloud. He hadn't had any episodes since his writing began and Allie couldn't be more relieved.
Frodo was too busy with the Red Book to think about any proposals, she was sure of it. She told so as much to Rosie.
But her friend just gave her a complicit wink. "Knowing Frodo, he will want to marry you. Just you wait and see."
Before Allie could answer, a knock came at the door.
"Who could that be?" Rosie mumbled as she left the room and headed for the front door.
A few seconds later, Allie heard the door opening, and then Marigold's clear voice carried across the hallway. "Rosie! Congratulations! Sam told me you said yes!"
Allie rose from her chair. It was time to go. She hadn't really shared a room with Marigold since her birthday party at Brandy Hall. Even then, they had barely exchanged any words. Marigold had wished her a happy birthday, and then had stayed away for the rest of the evening, conversing mostly with Sam and Estella.
Rosie and Marigold made their way down the hallway to Rosie's room and Marigold's smile waned slightly at the sight of Allie. "Hello, Allie," she greeted.
Allie returned the greeting and then turned to Rosie. "Well, I will let you fill in the details to Marigold. I will get going now."
"But you haven't yet finished your tea!" Rosie exclaimed. "Stay for a bit longer, Allie. Here, have some butter cookies. They are delicious."
Allie didn't want to appear rude, especially on such a joyous occasion, so she reluctantly sat back on her chair. For the next few minutes, she remained silent as Rosie told the story a second time to Marigold, who oh-ed and ah-ed at all the right moments.
Allie wondered how many more times Rosie could tell the story before becoming sick of it, but by the looks of it, it would take at least a hundred more times.
Allie was truly happy for her friend. The thought of marriage had never crossed her own mind. Was it due to the lifestyle she'd led as a wolf? Or perhaps just the knowledge that her forever amounted to only a few more years? It seemed unnecessary, given her circumstances, to even consider marriage. Besides, she had overheard a few hobbits gossiping at the Green Dragon about the Mayor of Michel-Delving who'd recently lost his wife. Perhaps that was why he had appeared so pale and sickly when she'd visited his office.
One of the hobbits, who was a close friend to the Mayor, lamented over his loss. Another said that at least he was already in his seventies. How tragic it would have been had this happened in his youth? For, as per Shire traditions, a widow could not take another wife or husband. Marriage was considered sacred, a once-in-a-lifetime celebration.
"I'm delighted to call you sister-in-law," Marigold's voice cut through her Allie's musings. "I always knew we would be family someday."
Rosie gave Marigold's hand a small squeeze. "Thank you."
"Indeed, a wedding is an important and significant event. It only happens once in the life of any hobbit."
"I know," Rosie replied, teary-eyed. "My moment with Sam has finally come."
Marigold looked over at Allie for the first time. "How are things with Frodo lately?"
Allie struggled to hide her surprise that Marigold was openly talking about Frodo with her. "Good," she said. "He is compiling his journey in Bilbo's Red Book."
"It is scary how much they are alike," Rosie said with as shake of her head.
"They both went through something no other hobbit can even begin to imagine," Allie whispered.
The girls talked some more about the winter cold, Rosie's upcoming wedding, and then it was getting late. Allie had not expected to stay this long, especially with Marigold also present, but she was pleasantly surprised that they could now converse in a civil manner. Moments of awkwardness still frequently arose, but Rosie was very adept at turning the conversation around.
When the skies began to darken, Marigold stood up. "Another butter cookie and I might just be sick. I will be heading back now."
"So am I," Allie said.
Rosie walked them both to the door. Marigold got dressed first, and then headed out. Allie was putting on her hat when Rosie held her back by the arm. "Thanks for coming today, Allie."
"Of course, Rosie. Once again, I'm so happy for you."
Rosie flashed her a meaningful look. "And I meant what I said earlier. No matter how busy Frodo is with that book of his, I'm certain he will want to marry you."
Allie marked a pause, and then looked up with a small smile. "Even if he does, I will say no."
Rosie took a step back, horrified. "What? Why?"
Allie pulled her hat lower to cover her ears. Gently, she said, "Rosie, you know I don't have much time left."
Rosie's cheery expression faded entirely for the first time that evening. With all the seriousness in the world, she said, "All the more reason to get married as soon as possible, then."
"Frodo is only thirty four. If he marries me, he will be a widow before he even turns forty. And he won't be able to marry again." Allie smiled wanly at her friend. "Don't make that face, Rosie. I have already made my peace with it."
Rosie grabbed her hand. "But…"
"Don't let this bring you down. Now is your moment to shine, Rosie. I cannot wait for the wedding. It will be a magnificent affair, I am sure."
On that note, she let go of Rosie's hand and started on the way home.
Sam and Rosie's wedding took place amidst May flowers. The coming of spring mirrored the budding of their new life.
The morning before the wedding, Allie stood in front of her dresser trying to work the knots out of her hair. In the past, Rosie used to do it for her whenever Allie had to make herself presentable. But Rosie was now otherwise occupied, so Allie could do naught but tackle the impossible on her own. To her chagrin, her hair did not look any smoother than half an hour ago. Perhaps she should just let it be and admit defeat.
She pulled on the hems of her sky blue dress, which actually belonged to Rosie. Her friend had been kind enough to lend it to her for the event, for Allie did not have any dresses of her own in the Shire. She had paid Prima a visit in January for cozy winter clothes and coats, but had no idea she'd have to wear a dress this soon.
Allie thought back to that encounter with Prima. The old seamstress had assessed her from head to toe, her eyes hawk-like. She, just like every other hobbit in the Shire, always had a mouthful of questions about her whereabouts. Though few hobbits remembered her, and those who did tended to avoid her, it had soon become a well-known fact that she'd lived most of her life in the Big Outside. And not even in Bree or its vicinity, but much further away.
Allie tried her best to feed their insatiable curiosity in the most polite of ways, but Prima had been quite an adversary, who did not let off until Allie pretended she'd remembered an important appointment and fled the scene. Despite her swift departure, the clothes she'd ordered were still delivered in due time. Prima was a punctual businesswoman despite her nosiness.
A knock came at the door, and Allie pulled herself away from the memories of the old seamstress. "Come in," she said.
The door opened, giving entrance to Estella, who had traveled all the way from Buckland with her brother and Berilac, in order to attend Sam and Rosie's wedding.
"The lads are ready," she announced.
Allie stood up from her dresser. "Let's get going, then."
Estella lifted a hand to halt her. "With your hair like this?"
Allie shrugged. "This is the best I can do."
Estella strode over. "Sit down. I will fix it."
Allie sat obediently, facing the mirror. Estella stood behind her and brushed her fingers through the messy curls, straightening them the best she could. Then, she split her hair into three portions and began to intertwine them together. "Braiding is the only way to tame hair such as yours."
"Thank you," Allie said and meant it with all her heart.
She eyed Estella as the other lass worked with her tongue poked out slightly in concentration. The last time she'd seen Estella, she had been but a crybaby hanging onto her brother's shirt, and fully obsessed with getting married to Merry. Now, she had grown into a woman with a confident stare and dignified pose. Her own brown locks had been combed into a single bun on top of her head. For the occasion, she'd donned a burgundy dress that enhanced the jade in her eyes. Allie knew it was now Merry's turn to be completely obsessed with her, from the way he had been all over her during the birthday party they'd thrown Allie in Brandy Hall.
Soon enough, Estella had finished her work. Allie turned her head to examine the back of her head in the mirror. The wild curls had been tamed into a single thick braid that coiled down her left shoulder. A grin formed upon her face, making her grey eyes crinkle. "I absolutely love this, Estella. You have just saved me from embarrassment."
Estella grinned and took a small box from her purse. "One last touch," she said as she opened the box and dabbed a red and sticky gel-like substance onto Allie's lips. "Now, you are ready. Come on, we don't want to be late."
No, indeed. Rosie would never forgive Allie if she were late to her friend's most important day. She and Estella hurried down the hallway to the hubbub of voices in the common room. The lads had gathered there, sitting on the couches or standing near the mantelpiece, sipping a little wine while they waited.
Merry looked very dapper in his white shirt and burgundy suit. It complimented Estella's burgundy dress quite nicely. Allie had one second to ponder whether they were actually attending the wedding together, when all her attention fell on Frodo, who leaned nonchalantly against the mantelpiece. Over his dress shirt, he wore a silver grey vest that she had never seen before. She didn't know when he'd had it tailored, but that wasn't as important as how it made his blue eyes stand out or how it contrasted with the dark tones of his hair. He looked as handsome as royalty from some faraway country.
Frodo's gaze fell on her too, and amazement filled his eyes. Those riveting eyes of his roamed down her dress and up again to her red lips and the braid falling down her shoulder. He made his way across the room to her. "You look stunning."
"So do you," she heard herself responding.
Frodo shook his head in amazement. "The most beautiful lass I have ever set eyes upon," he whispered in her ear, making her giggle. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm.
Allie gave a nod, wondering where her voice had gone to, as she circled her arm through his. Over her thunderous heartbeats, she heard Fatty letting out a low whistle as they passed by. "You folk look absolutely lovely! Makes one wonder who is really getting wed today!"
Estella tapped her brother on the arm. "You better not say things like this at the actual wedding. It is in very bad taste toward the groom and bride!" She turned to Frodo and Allie with bright eyes. "But the pair of you do look absolutely radiant. Perhaps we will have a similar ceremony soon?" She looked over at Allie and Frodo with a wink and expectant smile, and Allie could feel their other friends doing the same. She turned to Frodo, hoping he would be able to take care of this one, but Frodo was looking at her with a glint to his eye.
Allie's smile faded an inch. What did that look mean? Could Frodo truly be thinking of getting married to her? She averted her gaze, but was certain Frodo had caught on to her change in expression. Even now, she could feel his puzzled eyes burning a hole on the side of her cheek.
She pulled him toward the exit through their intertwined arms. "Well, let's not be tardy, friends. The ceremony will be starting soon."
Behind her in the hallway, she heard faintly Merry teasing Estella about her earlier remarks. "Perhaps the other wedding will be for you and I," he was saying in a laughing voice, followed by Estella's exasperated rebuttal and a slap on the arm.
"Ow," Merry said, though he never stopped laughing.
"Allie?" Frodo pulled her to a halt near the door. His blue eyes searched her face. "Is everything all right?"
Allie pulled down on her dress. "It's my first time attending such a formal event. I'm a little bit nervous, and I do wish nothing goes astray on such an important day for our friends."
Frodo sustained her gaze for a little longer, before he opened the front door and motioned her outside. "I'm sure everything will go as planned."
Allie flashed him a quick smile before heading out and down the stairs, her blue dress billowing around her ankles and her braid bouncing upon her shoulder.
Frodo watched Sam and Rosie kiss under the swirling petals that the children threw upon them. The image of Sam's dimly lit face in a cave beneath Minas Tirith flashed a moment before his eyes. Back then, Sam had told him, with teary-eyed yearning, that all he hoped for was seeing Rosie Cotton dance again, with ribbons in her hair.
And now that dream had become his reality. Rosie stood resplendent in his arms, white ribbons in her hair, white lace in her dress that conferred an airy quality to her movements. She looked happier and prettier than Frodo had ever seen her.
Allie leaned into him in her blue dress, beaming at the newlywed couple. Stray petals had nestled in her braid, from which a few strands, ever the unruly kind, had managed to escape. When she'd walked into the common room of Bag End earlier, the world had literally dimmed around her until she was all he could see. She'd looked at him with a shy smile that made him want to sweep her off her feet and kiss her like they were the only two people in the room. Except they weren't. The hubbub of conversation had returned, and having regained some composure, he'd walked over to her and complimented her like any sane hobbit ought to do.
Even now, she stole his breath away every time he looked at her. He passed an arm around her waist and hugged her close. Allie looked over with a smile that made him feel like he was a tween lad again, realizing his feelings for the first time. Clapping arose around him, and he reported his attention back to the main couple who were embracing with bright eyes and beaming smiles.
Frodo joined in the clapping, his heart full at the sight of his two dearest friends celebrating their love. They truly deserved the best this world had to offer. Something colorful came flying his way and fell straight into Allie's arms. It was Rosie's bouquet. Frodo met Rosie's gaze, and she gave him a discreet wink.
"I caught Rosie's flowers," Allie exclaimed with a chuckle. She twirled it in her hands and marveled at the intricate lacing of the stems with the ribbons. "It is heavier than I thought," she said, weighing it in her hand.
Frodo smiled at her innocent wonder. She probably didn't know the significance of catching the bride's bouquet. However, the act did not go unnoticed by the other hobbit guests, who began murmuring madly together with their hands in front of their mouths, while throwing them circumspicious but meaningful glances. Frodo turned his back to them and faced Allie square on. "Congratulations on catching the bouquet."
Allie blinked, smile still in place. "Is there a particular meaning to it?"
Frodo's reply was lost in the lively tune that began to play, kicking off the first dance. Allie reported her attention back to Sam and Rosie, who were now swaying in the middle of the yard. Soon, other guests joined in.
Frodo extended his hand to Allie with a slight bow of his head. Allie's cheeks flushed red, and she almost declined the invitation, but then gathered her courage and set the bouquet aside to take Frodo's hand. Frodo smiled and pulled her in by the waist.
"I don't know how to dance," Allie whispered into his ear.
"I am no expert either. Just put your hand on my shoulder, sway side to side and pretend to look graceful while doing so."
Allie let out a small laugh, but did as suggested, trying not to step on Frodo's feet. The other couples were dancing up a storm all around them, skirts flying, the ladies twirling in the men's arms, skirting around the flowers in the Gamgee residence and each other, all without missing a beat. Frodo and Allie swayed at their own pace in the midst of such chaos, just shuffling side to side with his hand on her waist, and her chin on his shoulder.
"You are doing just fine," Frodo whispered into her ear.
"We danced once before just like this," Allie reminisced in a quiet voice.
"Yes. By the farmhouse in Rohan."
"All I wished then was to have one real dance with you, amidst music and laughter, surrounded by our friends. I can't believe it's actually coming true." She pulled away and caressed his face with a look that pierced through his heart like an arrow. "I'm the happiest I have ever been."
Frodo leaned his forehead against hers. "No, Allie. You will be happier still, I promise."
Allie gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I highly doubt it. What can be more wondrous than this perfect day?"
And then, looking into her striking grey eyes that gently reflected the warm sun overhead, Frodo almost fell down to one knee right there and then to blurt out the question he'd been meaning to ask ever since they'd returned to the Shire. For months now, he'd been thinking of the perfect occasion. Then, Sam had dropped his surprise proposal in the winter and announced a wedding in the spring, and Frodo had no other choice but to postpone his own plans. His best friend's wedding was far from being the appropriate place for his own proposal.
He couldn't help but wonder what kind of face Allie would make when he did ask her. Would she be beside herself with joy? Would she cry? Would she even be surprised? After all they had endured together, it was almost a given he wouldn't want to spend the rest of his life with anyone else. After seeing Rosie and Sam getting married, Allie was undoubtedly thinking about their own circumstances. And he would not disappoint her. On their way back to the Shire, while they passed by the town of Crickhollow, he had seen the perfect object at the marketplace. The mere thought of giving it to Allie made jitters form in his stomach.
Rosie came twirling by and caught on to Allie's arm. "Oh, Allie. You look absolutely stunning." The next song began playing. "Come dance with me," Rosie said as she whirled Allie away.
Allie threw Frodo a helpless glance with a shrug of her shoulder before joining Rosie in sashaying her hips at the melody of a flute.
Frodo chuckled and wished her the best. Just as he was feeling thirsty, he caught sight of Sam downing a pint by the barrel of ale. He gave his best friend a congratulatory tap on the back, making him almost choke on the last swish. "Well done, Sam. I thought this day would never come."
"Please don't start with the teasing too, Frodo," Sam begged. "I am getting an earful already from the whole village."
Frodo laughed. "That is what you get for having a reputation."
"Of the bad variety," Sam said with a scowl. "Yes, I know I took my time asking for Rosie's hand. But we are married now, aren't we? Why can't they let this die?"
"Oh, Sam," Frodo said with a pitiful shake of his head. "It will never die when it's the old Gaffer himself driving the gossip cart." He pointed his drink to a group of elderly gentlemen yapping away by the food table with the Gaffer at the center.
Sam groaned. "Sometimes, I don't feel like his son. And why does it feel like half the Shire is in my backyard? I don't remember inviting all these people."
The wedding had been meant to be an intimate affair at the Gamgee residence, but as word spread and lunch hour approached, at least half of Hobbiton had shown up.
"Oh, buggers!" Sam grunted. The old Gaffer had spotted him and now waved him over to join their group. His sharp gaze fell on Frodo for a second and he gave a dry nod. Frodo nodded back his greetings. Truth was he hadn't had a proper conversation with the Gaffer ever since he'd come back to the Shire and severed his relationship with Marigold. Frodo didn't blame the Gaffer for holding a grudge, but it made public events such as the wedding more awkward than they ought to be.
Frodo tapped Sam on the shoulder and directed his attention to Marigold waving him over from the dancing crowd. "Saved by your sister."
Sam did not particularly enjoy dancing either, but still picked that over going over to the Gaffer.
"I'm coming soon with drinks," Frodo promised.
Sam threw him a grateful smile before being devoured by the crowd.
Frodo made his way to the large barrel of ale. A line had formed in front of it, and Frodo could do nothing but wait patiently for his turn. The Gaffer and his group of friends, which comprised of Sandyman and his wife, continued to converse in loud guffaws by the food table, clearly not on their first drink.
"Congratulations again," Sandyman roared with a mighty tap to the Gaffer's shoulder. "I always thought your daughter would be first to get married, but who woulda thought Samwise would beat her to it? And to Rosie Cotton, nonetheless."
The Gaffer gave a pleased chuckle. "My son may seem timid on the outside, but he is a fighter. Didn't you hear of his exploits during the war? He is a true hero."
"Indeed he is. And what a joyous occasion this is. We haven't had many weddings as of late."
"Perhaps another will be in the works soon," Sandyman's wife chimed in. "Did you see who caught the bouquet?"
The Gaffer's face darkened, while Sandyman elbowed his wife in the ribs. Frodo hid himself behind the line of hobbits, not wishing to be seen hearing this conversation.
"You cannot be alluding to Mr. Frodo and that Brandybuck lass he brought back from the Big Outside," the Gaffer groaned.
"Why not? We all heard the stories. I wouldn't be surprised if they get married within the year," Sandyman's wife persisted with a red tint to her cheeks while she downed what remained of her mug.
The Gaffer made for them to come closer. "Did you not hear what will become of her?" he whispered, though Frodo still clearly heard it through the hubbub of voices.
"What do you mean?" Sandyman's wife whispered back in fervent excitement.
The Gaffer leaned in and whispered something into their ears. Frodo did not catch what he said exactly, but had no trouble imagining the content, especially seeing how the other two gasped and widened their eyes. His hand closed around his mug so hard that it began trembling. Hobbits and their penchant for sharing every bit of personal detail! Never had he hated it more.
"Marriage would not be a sensible thing to do," Sandyman's wife said with a dejected shake of her head.
"No, indeed," the Gaffer agreed. "Mr. Frodo shouldn't go through with it, if he knows what's best for him."
"Unless he wants to end up like poor Uffo Boffin, widowed at such a young age and unable to marry again. At least the recently widowed Will Whitfoot is now three-and-seventy."
Frodo had heard enough. He stepped forth, about to give those hobbits a piece of his mind, when a hand closed around his arm and stopped him. Allie stood there, shaking her head, but the fact that she'd overheard the conversation only deepened his anger.
"It's not worth it," she said, pulling him back. "That's just who they are. They gossip."
"They are being rude and spreading harmful lies," Frodo retorted, blue eyes blazing.
"Except they are not lies. It is true that a widowed hobbit cannot marry again, is it not?"
Frodo paused for a second. He hadn't expected Allie to know about this particular hobbit law. Hobbits who got divorced, of which there were not many, for it was greatly frowned upon, could by law still take another partner. However, if one of the two passed away while still legally married, the widow would not be able to marry again officially. Frodo had never thought much about this law, for he never had reason to consider marriage before, but now he found it absurd and unfair. From the look on Allie's face, she'd heard about it and let it get to her. That's why she'd acted strange back in Bag End when Estella alluded to Frodo proposing. It made sense now, and it infuriated him.
Frodo seized Allie's hands firmly. "Yes, that is true, but it need not affect us."
Allie flashed him a small smile. "I know. Come on, let's go get our ales."
Ale was the last thing on Frodo's mind. He pulled her away from the waiting line and gazed upon her intently. "You know how closed-minded the villagers can be, but we don't need to live by their rules. We have forged our own path up until now and will continue to do so. To me, all that matters is what you want."
Allie kissed him lightly on the lips. "And to me, all that matters is your happiness."
"I am happy right now," he said gently. "And I shall always be with you by my side."
Allie's smile turned sad. "But that won't last, will it?"
Frodo pinched his lips together. "Perhaps not, but we'd promised we would live through these years without that shadow hanging over us and dictating our actions. I mean to do with you everything my heart desires regardless of whether we have years together or just one single day."
"We can do all that without a legal bound. We have everything we need just as we are now."
Frodo studied Allie's carefully composed face. The was party in full swing all around them, but he barely noticed it. "Allie, what are you saying?"
Allie bit her lip. "Yes, it will be nice, having a beautiful ceremony like Rosie and Sam. But other than that, what will wedlock bring to us that we do not already have? Commitment? After everything we have been through, we already have that, and more." She lowered her voice down to a whisper. "The right to consume our marriage? We have already done that plenty of times. We are not lacking anything the way we are now, Frodo."
Frodo tried not to let her words drive a dagger into his heart. She had been a wolf for many years. Perhaps she did not fully grasp the symbolic importance of a gesture such as marriage. "Allie, a wedding is an oath between two people. A declaration of love that lasts for a lifetime. It is meaningful to me, and I want to do that with you."
"Except it won't be a lifetime, will it? Perhaps for me, but for you it will just be four years. And then, you will end up like Uffo Boffin or Will Whitfurrow. I don't want to take away the rest of your life, Frodo."
"How can you say that to me, Allie? You are my whole life. You, and no one else!"
"No, I'm not, Frodo. I can't be your whole life. After I'm gone, you will have whole decades before your time comes. If we get married now, you will spend all those years alone, and I…" her lips trembled. "I can't bear the thought of that."
"Then don't think about that. Don't worry about that at all. Just answer me this: us getting married, will that make you happy?"
Allie stayed silent.
Frodo bore his gaze into hers. "Will that make you happy, Allie?"
Allie sustained his gaze and shook her head with a deep sadness. "No."
"No?" Frodo echoed in a daze.
"Please understand that I'm perfectly happy just as we are."
Frodo searched her face fervently and saw that she'd made up her mind, that he wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise. The deep seeded disappointment almost brought him to his knees. He tried not to let it show, to brush it off. "If you are sure, then so be it," he said, his voice coming out colder than he intended.
"I'm sorry," Allie whispered. "I know it's not what you wanted to hear. I..."
"Let's get an ale. I think we both need one."
Without waiting to see if Allie followed, he spun around and walked back to the queue for the ale barrel.
Allie sat cross-legged in front of the tombstone engraved with Hunter, Informant and Councillor's names. This small piece of cemetery had become her comfort zone whenever she needed a quiet moment to think, away from the curious eyes of hobbits and the tense atmosphere in Bag End.
Two weeks had passed since that terrible conversation with Frodo at Sam and Rosie's wedding, and she hadn't spoken much to Frodo since then. When Frodo was not busy writing in the Red Book, he kept to himself, shrouded in a morose silence that set Allie's nerves on fire, for she knew nothing she said could make it better.
Thus, Allie looked for excuses to shy away from home. She often told Frodo she'd be off visiting Rosie, but most times she just ended up alone in the cemetery, gazing into the names of her wolves.
Summer had settled in, and despite her light clothing, rivulets of sweat rolled down her back as the sun burned against the top of her head. Some areas of the cemetery benefited from the shade of giant oak trees, but no such trees grew in close proximity to the wolves' tombstone.
Allie sighed as she made a mental note to wear a hat next time she came here. Her parched throat begged for water, but she didn't want to return to Bag End yet. Sooner or later, she would need to have a serious talk with Frodo, Allie knew that much, but he would have to take the initiative for it.
She'd thought Frodo was of the same mind concerning marriage. Surely he would not wish to tie himself to her in a way that made it utterly impossible for him to connect to anyone else again for the rest of his life. Allie doubted many lasses would be content to stay in a relationship where they'd never be able to marry. Frodo may not see the possibility of falling in love with anyone else again, but Allie wanted him to keep that door open. It would make her less guilty for leaving him so soon.
Yes, it was a selfish request from her end. Rejecting his proposal before he could even make it had been like planting a dagger in her own heart, but she couldn't be the one to shut that door closed for him. She just couldn't.
"How is it over there?" she asked her wolves. "I hope game is plenty and the grass is green and soft to roll in after a good hunt."
Hunting and napping. That sounded like quite a life. She hoped her wolves had found peace at last, wherever they were.
When she couldn't take the heat any longer, she stood up from the scorching ground. As she was exiting the cemetery, a small, lonesome figure sitting in front of a tombstone caught her attention. She halted and did a double-take, for the figure was a child.
Allie hesitated for a moment, but then headed over. The child did not hear her, for her steps were as quiet as they have always been. She stopped a good distance away and said, "Hello there."
The child jumped to their feet and spun in her direction as though she'd yelled the words instead of whispered them. It was a boy, perhaps no older than six or seven. But all Allie could see was the ugly burn mark covering the entire left side of his face. The skin had turned thick, wrinkly and pink, and his left eye was slightly droopy. His blue eyes widened in alarm as he glanced between her and the grave. Brown hair fell in his eyes in haphazard curls, soaked through with sweat from the heat, but he did not bother brushing them away, his attention solely latched onto her.
"I did not mean to…" Allie started.
But the boy bolted. Allie watched him go around the bend in the dirt trail and disappear behind a row of graves. She reported her attention back to the tombstone next to which he had been sitting. The engraving read Camellia Burrows, 1319 – 1399. This person had passed away twenty years ago. The boy's grandmother or great-grandmother?
He had looked so forlorn sitting in front of it, as though whatever loss he had suffered was still fresh. Allie didn't know why, but the sight of him struck a chord within her. Despite the alarm in his eyes, a profound sadness lurked just beneath the surface, a sadness she was all too familiar with.
Allie shook it off and left the cemetery.
No sight of the boy anywhere as she slowly ambled back to Bag End.
Frodo was in the kitchen, slicing some strawberries. A bowl of cream waited on the side, ready to be stirred into the fruits. Allie hesitated at the doorway, not in the mood for the tension that would undoubtedly settle over the room should he notice her.
Frodo turned around and she braced herself for the forced lift of the lips he directed her way lately, but to her surprise, today he gave her a real smile with his usual warmth. A first one since the wedding.
"There you are, Allie. I was waiting for you." He beckoned her over, eyes widening at the sweat-stained shirt sticking to her skin. "You look like you could use a glass of water or two."
He grabbed a tall glass from the shelf and filled it to the brim, then handed it to her. She took it with a small murmur of "thanks" and Frodo smiled at her again in a way that sent a jolt through her system. She sure had missed that smile.
"You seem to be in a good mood," she ventured to say.
"Of course. Sam brought over these strawberries fresh from the field and we are about to have our first strawberries with cream of the season." He went back to cutting the strawberries into neat slices. "It's almost done."
Allie drank her water while Frodo whisked the cream onto the strawberries and mixed them thoroughly in a large bowl. He then served them into two smaller containers, covered them with a lid and placed them in a duffel bag. From the drawer, he grabbed two spoons and set them on top of the containers before lacing the bag closed. "Come. I know the perfect place where we can savor these."
Allie followed him outside into the heat of early June. Sweet fragrances assaulted her senses from the flowers in full bloom within Bag End's garden; a mix of rhododendrons, gardenia and sweet pea. Several bees circled a patch of roses, flying from one to the other, buzzing excitedly.
Frodo led her into the sweet shade of the woods and when they engaged down a familiar path, Allie knew exactly where he was taking her. She smiled when she spotted the oak tree with the platform installed upon the fork made by three diverging boughs. "I have not been here since my return," she said, staring at it in awe.
"I know," Frodo answered. He passed the duffel bag over his shoulder, grabbed on to the branches and hoisted himself up the tree. Allie followed after him onto the platform, marveling at the sturdiness of the wood beneath her feet. He'd picked a nice plank and sawed it well to fit the space between the boughs.
She stared up at the green umbrella of leaves and branches overhead and a true sense of comfort enveloped her. Inhaling deep the forest air, she sat cross-legged on the platform and accepted one of the two small containers of strawberries with cream that Frodo handed her. The sweetness of the first strawberry exploded in Allie's mouth, and she couldn't help a groan of satisfaction from escaping her throat.
Frodo watched her with a tender glint to his blue eyes while he spooned a generous portion into his own mouth.
Allie chewed the rest more slowly, all the while studying Frodo's expression of content as he swallowed his first mouthful of strawberries. Something had changed. Had he come to terms with her decision? Had he forgiven her? Or did he bring her here to try and convince her one more time?
"I know what you want to ask me," Frodo said as though he'd read her mind. "So ask away."
Allie chocked a bit on her last strawberry. "Well, it's just that you have been moody since Sam and Rosie's wedding, and not without good reason. You probably thought about our conversation day and night over the last two weeks. I know I did, and I hate the breach it's created between us. I hope... I hope we can work it out."
Frodo sighed. "I know how stubborn you can be. I know nothing I say will change your mind, so I do not wish to waste any more time fighting. I understand your reservations, Allie. I don't agree with them, but I understand them. Had our places been exchanged, I might have felt compelled to do the same."
Allie closed the container with careful fingers. "I know now how important getting married was to you. I'm sorry I disappointed you beyond measure."
Frodo shook his head. "Like you said, wedlock is but an official piece of parchment and a show. We have everything already and we do not need anyone's permission or affirmation but our own. I was disappointed, yes. But that's only because I forged expectations on my own without ever discussing them with you. I had no idea you felt that way about marriage until our friends' wedding."
Allie's eyes began to tear up unexpectedly. She'd not dared hope that Frodo would come to accept or understand it so easily. But really, when had he not, when it came to the two of them? When had he not readily sacrificed his needs and wishes for her? She'd had no idea either about his thoughts on marriage until recently. Was she being unfair to him with this unilateral decision?
"Are you truly all right with this outcome?" she asked, twirling the container in between her fingers.
Frodo scooted close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Like I told you before, all that matters to me is being with you, in any shape or form. That's all." He planted a small kiss on her cheek. "But, should you change your mind and make me the happiest man in all of Middle-earth, my offer still stands."
Allie pulled back slightly. "Was that a proposal?"
Frodo shrugged. "Actually, I kind of proposed already during Sam and Rosie's wedding. Very informally and indirectly, but still."
Allie covered her face with both hands. "I ruined it all, didn't I?"
Frodo let out a small laugh. "Yes, you kind of did."
Allie groaned and uncovered one eye. "I'm so sorry, Frodo."
Frodo contemplated the swaying leaves in front of them for a second, and then turned back to Allie. "What would you think of a quick trip to Rivendell?"
Allie dropped her hands from her face at this change in topic. "Rivendell? Do you mean to visit Uncle Bilbo?"
Frodo nodded. "Perhaps it is the book I'm writing, following in his footsteps, but he's been on my mind lately. I thought it would be nice to visit him and tell him news of the Shire. Since he is now too weak and old to travel, I thought we should go to him instead."
Allie's memories took her back to Bilbo's wrinkled smile and white hair blowing about his head when she'd last seen him while passing through Rivendell on the way back to the Shire, and a pang of longing seized her heart. She found herself nodding at Frodo's proposition. "Oh, I'm sure he will be so happy to see us. I love the idea, Frodo."
"Then it is settled. Let me make some preparations, get a cart ready for the ponies and some provisions for the road. I will send a letter to Rivendell ahead of our arrival and we could leave in a few days."
"In a few days?" Allie echoed, almost vibrating with excitement. "Yes, why not? The earlier the better. Now that you mentioned Bilbo, I do find myself missing him dearly."
Not only that, but the prospect of travelling again was really what made Allie's heart bloom. She had loved spending the last few months in the Shire, but perhaps because of the nomadic life she'd led for years, the notion of traveling again filled her with indescribable joy and anticipation. Being back on the road, the miles rolling by day after day, the changing landscapes, the campfires at night. And this time, only Frodo and her in a world free of danger and war. A dream come true.
When she came awake from her musings, she was already climbing off the tree. "We need to get started with the preparations right away," she said, beckoning to an amused Frodo. "There's so much to do if we do intend to leave so soon."
"All right, Allie. But don't throw yourself out of the tree again."
Allie laughed, for she had indeed been half tempted to do so in her excitement.
Frodo watched her disappear down the tree with an indulgent smile. He picked up their empty containers, put them back in the duffel bag and climbed down after her. She could be stubborn with her decisions, but Frodo could be too. He wondered what she would think when she learned he hadn't given up at all on marrying her.
On the contrary, he felt more assured than ever that this was what he wanted to do. He understood her reservations, like he'd told her, but he was confident they could work around it. In fact, her continued rejections had turned the proposal into a challenge, and he'd never been one to back off from one, especially when it was Allie's hand on the line.
The trip to Rivendell was part of the plan. Allie's childlike eagerness at the idea was a good start and boded well for the rest. Their relationship had started as a battle of wills after all, and this time Frodo was serious about going for the win.
Hello dear readers, here is the next part at last. For those who still read and remember this story, thank you from the bottom of my heart. It is a bit late, but Happy New Year to all of you. This is my gift to start the year off on a strong foot.
Special thanks to the people who left me comments on my last chapter from four years ago (absolutely mortifying that it took me so long to upload): PrettyRecklessLaura, Aria Breuer, ProfessionalPirateSiren, Girl on fire 111, GrumpyFeanor and my special guest reader. Thank you, all. I mean it. I read each and every one of your comments again just now and it really warms my heart that my story has meant so much to you all.
Much love,
burningSunset