16. Rosie's Gift

Sometimes I think if I see another soiled nappy or mess of spilled pap, I'll chuck the lot. Rose Gamgee, you were a fool to wed, says I to myself. I might have stayed a tidy old maid, keeping house for Dad.

But then I remember Sam touching my face in the dark and breathing Rose, my Rose, against my cheek. I remember the wonder of a little life fluttering under my heart, like a bird waiting to fly free.

I'm no foolish girl with naught in her head but romance. I could keep the babes from coming, Mam showed me the herbs to take and the moon-times to take them in. But when I see my Sam at dusk, a book across his lap and our little children gathered round his knees, their dear faces turned up like flowers seeking the sun, I feel such joy.

Master Frodo broke my Sam's heart when he left us. P'raps it'll never be mended, not in this world, not by me, but I'll do what I can. This is my gift to you, my Sam: Love to heal you, and a new babe's cry to drown out the sound of the sea.

the end

A/N: Well, I've come to the conclusion that this particular collection is as long as it needs to be, so I think this is a comfortable place to end it, at Bag End with Rosie and Sam and their children. Any new ficlets, drabbles and double-drabbles will appear in New Roads and Secret Gates. If you've traveled all the way through to read this, thank you, Constant Reader. I hope my words made you feel, and think, and gave you joy.