Chapter 32 New Year's Celebration

Queen Arwen had thought of everything. The rooms fitted out for the hobbits contained hobbit-sized furnishings: beds, tables, chairs, a writing desk, even a hobbit-sized tub for bathing. All the accouterments were conveniently sized as well, down to the eating utensils and tongs for tending the fire in the hearth. Round doors of hobbit height had been cut into the regular doors, with knobs in their centers.

The chairs at the King's banqueting table were built high enough to raise a halfling up to the proper height without the need of cushions, with convenient ladders on each side so that one might climb up easily.

There was not much opportunity to talk upon arrival; they were swept immediately into festivities. 'It's your own fault, you know,' the King told Samwise on the way to the banquet hall. 'You're late.'

'Couldn't help it,' Sam said soberly. 'I'll tell you about it later.' The King gazed at him questioningly, but nodded and turned his mind to his official duties. On the way to the banquet hall, Sam spotted two familiar faces beaming at him. 'Gimli!' he shouted. 'Legolas!' He was immediately enveloped in a great dwarf hug, whilst a slender elvish hand grasped his shoulder warmly.

'Good to see you again, lad!' the dwarf rumbled, then turned to Rose and Ellie. 'I see you've brought two of your daughters with you!'

Rose laughed and blushed as the dwarf twinkled at her. The elf took her hand and bowed elegantly. 'Mistress Rose,' he smiled. 'I heard so much about you on our journey.'

'Come, now, the feast is beginning,' the King urged at the sound of the trumpets. 'We mustn't let the food get cold.'

'That would hardly be proper,' Sam laughed.

The Queen smiled down at him. 'Not to mention how rude it would be for the guests of honour to miss their own welcoming banquet.'

It was a joyous occasion, and Sam looked down the tables to see many familiar faces: Prince Imrahil, and Prince Faramir of Ithilien, attended by his Captain, Beregond, among them. The King and Queen were interested in all the doings of the Shire, but noticed that Sam turned aside talk of Pippin.

After the dinner was over and the necessary speeches had been dispensed with, they relaxed in the queen's sitting room, sipping some of Brandy Hall's finest that Merry had sent with the Gamgees.

'And now, what is the story with Pippin?' Aragorn asked at last.

Sam sipped his own brandy in silence. Rose bit her lip, and Ellie's eyes brimmed over.

'What is it?' the queen asked gently.

'He's ill,' Sam said quietly. 'He had pneumonia, a few years after we returned to the Shire, and it ruined his lungs. It's gotten bad enough that a simple cold might carry him off.'

The King nodded.

'But that's not all,' Sam said. 'A few months back he got crushed under an overturned carriage. Now one of his legs is useless...' The Queen gave a soft exclamation of pain. 'One of the reasons we've come is to ask you to bring him healing.'

'Tell me more,' Elessar said gravely. Sam went over Pippin's condition in detail, the King stopping him with an occasional probing question. Finally he sat back, shaking his head.

'Well?' Sam said. 'You can help him...?'

'Sam,' the King said gently. 'I know you saw many miracles done with athelas, but it cannot cure all ills or there would be no one sick or injured or dying in all my realm. There are some hurts that even the King's hands of healing cannot cure.'

The words struck Sam like a blow, and he bowed his head. Rose put her head in her hands and sobbed, and Ellie put her arms about her mother, tears streaking her own cheeks. 'I'm sorry,' the Queen said softly.

'We cannot just give up,' Sam said, raising his head again. 'Surely there must be some cure, something in all those dusty records you have buried here in the City. The elves...'

'Did you ask the elves?' Elessar said. Looking to Arwen, he read the answer before Sam spoke it.

'I did,' he sighed. 'Spent some time at Rivendell with Elrohir and Elladan. They taught me some about herbs to ease breathing, but that was about all they could offer. No miracle cures there.'

'We will search the archives here, and in the Houses of Healing,' Elessar said. 'But Sam...'

Sam met his eye.

'If I'd had a way to help a soldier with useless legs or withered arm, you'd never have seen any about the City.' Sam nodded. He had seen such, wounded in the War, but still useful. One sat a post outside the room they were in at the moment. Though his legs would never work again, his sword arm was still strong. The King went on, 'We'll search the records, looking for some long-lost bit of information, but...'

'Ah well,' Sam sighed. 'It'll give us something to do with ourselves when we run out of banquets to go to.'

'How long do you think he has?' the King asked quietly, thinking of the cheerful young hobbit who'd walked across Middle-earth with him.

Sam shook his head. 'The next cold could carry him off, like I said. He's got no strength left. Just hangs on by sheer will, it seems.'

Elessar looked at the Queen, then back to Sam. 'I'm sorry, Sam.'

'So'm I,' Sam said simply. 'That I am.' He sighed. 'Well, I guess there's no need to hurry back to the Shire now.'

King Elessar looked grave. 'That's a good thing,' he agreed.

'What?' Sam said startled.

'Sam,' the King said. 'I'm afraid you're stuck with our company for quite awhile. You know you can't go riding back North as planned.' His eyes went to Rose, who gasped. Sam realised that the Captain had given his King a full report.

'He's right, my dear,' Arwen agreed.

'But...' Rose protested. 'My little ones, they're expecting us back...'

'You must think of the new little one,' the Queen said gently.

'None of my guardsmen will take on the job of transporting you back to the Shire in your condition,' the King said. 'Bunch of cowards, the lot of them.'

Startled, Sam laughed, and the King smiled.

'None of them is prepared to learn midwifery at this late date,' the King went on. 'So I'm afraid you'll have to stay until after the babe is born, and long enough for it to be safe to travel with the little one.'

'We'll send a message back to your family,' the Queen put in, 'so they won't worry. And we can be in waiting together...' she smiled at their questioning looks. 'Yes, I have my own little one on the way.' The royal couple beamed as the hobbits showered them with congratulations.

The New Year's celebration was everything Elanor could have imagined, and more. There were parades, and demonstrations by guardsmen of drill and riding and mock fighting. There was feasting and singing. Best of all, there were the fireworks. Gandalf had not taken his art with him over the Western Sea; he had left notes with the King, who saw to it that the art of firework-making was tended by skilled hands.

Since they were forced by circumstances to stay in the White City for months, Rose encouraged Sam and Elanor to ride out with Gimli, Legolas, and a picked escort to Ithilien, to visit Faramir and Beregond. Sam was able to show his daughter the hiding place behind the waterfall where he and Frodo had met Faramir before setting out on the final part of their journey, and the glade in Cormallen where he'd first awakened to find that (nearly) everything sad had indeed come untrue. She found Ithilien charming and beautiful, and gathered some wildflower slips to take back to the City with her, where she planted them in pots and nursed them gently.

Rose spent much time in the Queen's company, both of them busy with needlework or other motherly preparations, comparing notes on babes and mothering, for Arwen already had a lovely little daughter, the apple of her father's eye. After the bustle of New Year's was over, the days were quieter, and Rose enjoyed the peace even while missing the busy life amongst her little ones in Bag End. A message had come back from the Shire, saying that all were well and that they eagerly awaited news of the newest Gamgee, which the King promised to dispatch as soon as there was any news to tell.

In August, the Queen was delivered of a son and heir to the throne, and there was much rejoicing in the White City.

'He's huge!' Ellie whispered to her mother when they tiptoed in to see the new heir.

The King laughed. 'He's tiny, you mean!' He smiled down at his small friends. 'I suppose he'd be huge were he born to a hobbit mum.'

'Indeed,' Rose said, barely repressing a shudder. 'He's just as big as he ought to be, but I'm glad I didn't have the bearing of him!'

Arwen laughed and kissed her on the cheek. 'Your own time is drawing near,' she said, 'but we have fine midwives here in the City and you will be in good hands.'

'I know,' Rose sighed, hand on her abdomen. 'I wouldn't mind if this babe would come right now, but I suppose I'll have to wait another month.'

'The next celebration in the City will be Ringday,' the Queen smiled. 'Surely the babe will have arrived by then so that you can enjoy the feasting.' She remembered the last days of her confinement, where only small bites of food could be consumed at a time. This must surely be a sore trial to a hobbit.

'Ringday?' Sam asked.

'Yes,' the King said, 'the Twenty-second of September.'

'Frodo's birthday?' Sam said, flabbergasted.

'Why, yes,' Elessar smiled. 'So it is.' Sam met his eyes with his own smile. He was glad that, at least here in Gondor, Mr Frodo would be remembered for always.

As it happened, Rose missed the feasting of Ringday, ending her confinement on that very day, delivering herself of a son.

'Do you know what day it is, Rose?' Sam said, gently stroking back the curls from her forehead.

'Day?' she murmured absently, gazing in wonder down at the tiny face.

'It's Mr Frodo's birthday,' he said.

She looked up, chagrin on her face. 'O Sam,' she said, sharp disappointment in her tone, 'I'm so sorry!'

'Why's that, lass?' he asked in confusion.

'We've already named a lad Frodo!' she said.

He laughed. 'That's all right, then,' he said gently. 'We've got two ways to remember him now, one by name and one by birthday.'

'What'll we name him, then?' Rose said. They went by the old hobbit custom where the husband named the lads whilst the wife named the lasses.

Sam smiled down at her. 'We haven't named one for your father yet,' he said. 'And since this might well be the last, don't you think it's about time that we did?'

'I think so,' said Rose, and giving a deep sigh, she cuddled the babe and looked down into his sweet face. 'Welcome to the world, little Tolman. We are so glad to greet you.'

'That we are, lad,' Sam said.

***

The halfling babe caused quite as much a stir as the new heir. 'He's so tiny and perfect,' Queen Arwen marveled, for once at a loss for words. 'Exquisite,' she said. The King could hold the wee bit of babe in the palm of one hand.

'He's just like any other babe,' Sam said.

'Not just like any other,' Rose maintained. 'He's ours.' She reclaimed Tolman from the bemused King and smiled down at her littlest. Having the warm bundle in her arms made the steady ache for her other little ones a bit more bearable somehow.

The little princess had to be watched carefully, as she seemed to think Tolman a new doll procured especially for her. This was not too arduous a task, as there always seemed to be an adult hovering, ready to take him whenever Rose's arms tired.

They caused a stir whenever they were about in the streets. They'd always caused a stir before, this was nothing new. Rose had learned what the cry "Pheriannath" meant, 'twas one of those funny foreign words meaning hobbit, which made her shake her head. Why didn't they just say "Hobbits" then and be done with it? But the tiny babe was a magnet to draw the eyes of all.

'You're going to be famous one day, young Tom,' Sam smiled down at his youngest. 'Just look at the stir you cause wherever you go.'

Bergil had been assigned to their guard detail, and he spent much time in their company when they were not in their special "hobbit rooms". It was comical to see the tall guardsman at times holding the wee babe as if he were a father carrying a doll for a tired little daughter.

'You're a natural,' Sam told him. 'When are you going to get married and have one of your own then?'

Bergil laughed. 'At Yule, actually,' he said.

'Why haven't you brought the girl around?' Rose scolded. 'You know we would love to meet her!'

Bergil said, 'She's a bit shy, you being such famous folk and all.'

'We're just regular folk,' Rose said. 'I'm a farmer's daughter, nothing special.'

'I would disagree with that,' Samwise said, putting an arm around her. 'I think you're very special.'

'She's a farmer's daughter, too,' Bergil smiled. 'I think you'll get along fine, if I can persuade her to come.'

'Tell her we don't bite,' Sam said, 'Not on first meeting. At least,' he said, looking down at Rose with a squeeze and a twinkle in his eye, 'We don't bite hard.' He looked more closely at Rose, who had lost her smile. 'What is it, Rosie-lass?'

'Yule,' she sighed. 'We'll still be here at Yuletide. Here it is October already. I ought to be putting up apple butter and pumpkin preserves.'

'So you're taking a nice long holiday for a change,' Sam said gently. 'And look at the bright side. We might be able to attend Bergil's wedding, if he asks us.'

'If I ask you?' Bergil laughed. 'What kind of a question is that? I'm counting on you to come! You've practically adopted me!'

Ellie smiled up at him, way up. 'You're my tallest brother now,' she laughed. 'Just wait until Frodo finds out. He always prided himself on being tallest.'

Sam was looking sober himself, and Rose gave him a squeeze in return. She knew he was thinking about Pippin.