Frodo sneezed and blew into one of the many handkerchiefs that Sam had placed on the table by him. He wrapped the blanket that Sam had thoughtfully placed around his shoulders a bit tighter and then resumed his reading. It was very unusual for him to catch cold in the wonderfully invigorating and healing air that surrounded Tol Eressea, but this was not the first cold he had gotten and was probably not the last. He was sure he would well tucked into bed if he had been anywhere else, but he had convinced Sam after some struggle that it was actually better for him if he sat outside in their garden. He was sure that had his beloved guardian had the strength for it, he would have had his way as well and dragged Frodo’s bed out to the garden, but as it was, he did not and Gandalf and their Elven friends were not nearby for Sam to commandeer.

So Frodo sat in his favorite chair, in his favorite part of the garden, with the sunlight surrounding him and Sam nearby to attend to his needs. He felt terribly spoiled and was enjoying every moment of it, or as much as he could with such a cold. His second sneeze came and another handkerchief was used and then he looked up to see Sam standing by him with some of his favorite flowers in his hand.

Frodo took them with a smile and held them close to take a deep breath. He shouldn’t have been amazed that the scent reached through his snuffed nose, but he still was. “Thank you, my Sam! They are most lovely. Do you remember the first time you gave me flowers to make me feel better when we first met and I was sick then too?”

Sam smiled. “Of course I do, me dear.”

“And here you are, otornonya, a hundred years later, still giving me flowers. I am so blessed with such wonderful, loving gifts! Do you know I kept them, tucking them away in favorite passages from books or where I was reading at the time you gave them to me? I left them there for you to find.”

“I did find them, dearlove. All of them I think, with Ellie and Rosie-lass helping. I cried like I never had since you left when I found the first one, and then I laughed hard. I’m sure everyone thought I was cracked and I was or my heart was but then the cracks got sealed and it was you that did it.”

Frodo pulled his Sam down to the chair next to him and kissed his cheek. He held his hand for a long time, stroking it gently as Sam continued to speak.

“I found all the notes you left, marking the date I had given you the flower and why, and how lucky you felt to have me as a friend. Turned me red as a beet to read all those words, but Rose was smiling for days after she read them. I was afraid of ruining the flowers if I touched them, but I couldn’t resist and so brushed each one that lightly. I traced your writing. I can’t thank you enough for leaving me such treasure, me dear. It was like part of you had remained that I could still touch.”

Frodo squeezed his dearest brother’s hand tightly, then let go and put his arm around him and drew him close. “It was after the pain had passed somewhat that I felt you were still with me, my Sam, even with all the Sea between, and I hoped you would feel the same. I know you did. I kept all the flowers your heart sent me, throughout all these many years, every single one, even when your hand could not reach them to me. I can’t thank you enough.”

He kissed Sam’s head and they sat together like that for some time with Sam’s head resting on Frodo’s shoulder.

“I kept all the gifts Merry gave me when he was a lad,” Frodo continued. “I took some of Merry’s with me, though I couldn’t take any of Pippin’s for they were mostly candies that he stuck in between pages with his sticky fingers!” The hobbit chuckled. “Bilbo was most cross when he first found out that he was doing that and so that stopped after Pip was seven I think. Those and others I left for them to find. I didn’t want any of you think that we were no longer together, just because we couldn’t see each other. All three of my brothers are such brave lads, fighting in such terrible battles, and I salute them. But none was braver than you, my Sam.”

“Except you, my dear.”

Frodo laughed softly and ran his fingers gently through Sam’s white curls. “Now, my Sam, are you going to take advantage of my weakened condition and try to win our old argument?”

Sam raised his head and looked up into his beloved brother’s eyes. Frodo’s eyes were shining with mischief and it was as though, as Sam had noted many times before in the years he had spent here, that no time had passed between the time they were lads to the time they were reunited on the shores beyond the Sundering Seas. The younger hobbit could still tell where the Shadow had touched his treasure, but they were no longer marks of hatred and violence, but where his light shone the brightest, as though the long healed rents that had been made in his flesh showed forth the glory of his light all the clearer. The silver locks of his beloved only added to his beauty and light and Sam never tired of marveling at such a sight.

“I don’t have to take advantage, dearlove, because I know I’m right.”

“And I know I’m right.”

“Then that’s settled.”

Frodo giggled. “As settled as it ever was, which means naught at all. I tell you, Sam, you must have some Baggins blood in you, for I have never come across a more stubborn creature than you.”

Sam kissed his head. “And I have never come across one more stubborn than you.”

Frodo’s laughter turned into a coughing fit which had Sam clapping him on the back to help still it. “You all right, dear?” he asked, concerned.

The elder hobbit reached for the tall glass of lemon water that Sam had placed out for him earlier and took a few deep swallows. Fully recovered, he was able to smile brightly for his guardian. “I’m fine, Sam, fine. How can I not be, with you to spoil me?”

Sam returned the smile, “Just you be careful not to overexert yourself.”

“Then, ammelda, you better keep me from laughing,” Frodo said and laughed again, but there was no coughing this time.

They passed the afternoon in each other’s company as they always did, with Frodo reading to Sam in Quenya from the vast library that was on the Isle or from compositions he had made himself. Again, the sense that no time had passed between the time of the sun-filled Shire to now struck Sam, even though in the Shire, when Frodo had spoken Elvish, it had been Sindarin. Either way, the younger hobbit delighted to hear the delightful lilt in his master’s voice and closed his eyes just so he could concentrate on that.

He opened them again when Frodo cried out, “Don’t tell me I’ve sent you I asleep again, Sam!”

The two hobbits laughed together. This was a newer one of their teasings, for the elder was well aware of why his beloved brother had closed his eyes. Sam looked out to the setting sun in a glorious array of colors. “It’ll be time soon enough that you will need to be sent to sleep yourself, Iorhaelnya.”

“Not before supper!”

Sam chuckled. “Now, not before that. Just sit you quiet while I go and bring it.”

Frodo almost opened his mouth, but thought better of it. It was an ongoing battle with his Sam for him to have opportunity to spoil his beloved with his cooking, for the younger hobbit usually was most stubborn when it came to what he considered his proper place and duties. Sometimes if Frodo got up very early he could have breakfast ready, but that was most mornings quite hard to do since he could not easily stir from Sam’s arms without waking him. And sometimes, if his brother was distracted enough by working in the garden, he could have a small lunch prepared, but he had yet been able to manage making dinner and he knew with his cold especially, Sam would not let him lift a finger. So he closed his book and sat back instead to enjoy the sunset.

Sam presently came back out with a lantern and a tray of food, particularly made for one recovering from a cold. He carefully put Frodo’s mug of honeyed tea by him and then served him the rest of the meal. The hobbits bowed their heads as Frodo murmured a short prayer of thanksgiving to Iluvatar and Yavanna, then they ate heartily, with Sam keeping a close eye on his master to make sure he ate enough to keep up his strength.

Just as the last of the color of the setting sun was fading, they walked down to the shore and stood at the edge, their feet being lapped by the water and looked east, back toward the Shire and Middle-earth. Frodo took Sam’s hand in his. “Let us remember all those who fought and died in the terrible War, to keep us and those they loved safe and free. And let us remember especially Merry and Pippin, and all the hobbits who died.”

They stood silently for a long while, then turned back toward home where in the distance, they saw a long line of light snaking around: Elves with their lanterns. Frodo and Sam watched for a long time, still hand-in-hand, while the younger hobbit remembered the first time he had seen the sight and how Frodo had explained it.

“They’ll be doing that all night, walking the miles as each name of the slain over the long, long years is solemnly recited and the battle in which they fell: Dagor Bragollach, the Battle of Sudden Flame; the battle of Tumhalad, the fall of Gondolin and Nargothrond; Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; among many others, including the Dagorlad which we saw the remains of in the Dead Marshes. Except for the one who recites, there is complete silence. There is an awesome majesty and power, a sad beauty, to it that I can’t describe unless you have walked it yourself. Bilbo and I did several times in the beginning and it was there that I first realized the terrible weight of the sorrow the Elves carry and the weight of my own sorrow lessened because of it. I had merely lost myself; they had lost so many, many more, though many have returned, none unchanged. It is a very long night and wearying to one not used to it. Gandalf carried Bilbo the last several miles and I stumbled along beside, ready to drop, but stubbornly refusing any assistance. I wanted to walk it as they walked it, solemnly, slowly and it was on those walks that I began to get a dim sense that perhaps I could more easily carry the burden of my pain and memories, just as they carried theirs. Each year it got easily to walk as my own pain grew less and my strength and love of my new friends and their history grew. I grew to understand myself better and Who I had said ‘yes’ to all those years ago. The year Bilbo died, I walked it again with fresh loss, but greater appreciation for those who walked it with me, visible and invisible. It’s been a long time since I’ve done it, but I hope one day we can walk it together.”

Frodo and Sam looked at the lights grew farther from them, and when at last, they could no longer see anything but a faint glow, they turned into their own home and bed. Though Frodo had told his guardian that the first thing he had done when he arrived was to pick out which room would be Sam’s, they had, from the first night, slept in one or the other bedroom, never apart from each other. When Frodo first caught cold, he had wondered whether Sam wanted to be so close to him, but the younger hobbit would have nothing of such protests, saying he had weathered the colds of his Rose and thirteen children and much worse than anything Frodo had. So that night, Frodo happily laid his head down where he had each night for the last seven years, where he could hear Sam’s heart and felt beloved arms encircle him.

“Hantanyel, ammelda otorno, for all you did to keep me safe, all these years,” he murmured.

Sam kissed the top of his head. “Hantanyel, meldanya for all you did for keeping me, Rose and all our bairns safe and that goes same for Merry and Pippin and their lads.”

“We’ll never settle who is the best, shall we?”

“Didn’t Mr. Gandalf say at the Council all that time ago that only a small part is played by any hero?”

Frodo smiled. “You are right. Hantanyel then, my Sam, for your ‘small part’ and thank Iluvatar for everyone’s. All our parts made a whole.”

A/N: Otornonya is Quenya for my brother. Ammelda is dearest. Hantanyel is thank you. Meldanya is my dear/my beloved/my sweet. I have no idea whether the Elves would hold such memorials, so please forgive me and tell me if I’ve erred here.