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Dreamflower's Mathoms II  by Dreamflower

[AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story takes place in my “Eucatastrophe AU” in S.R. 1451. In this AU, the Three Elven Rings did not fade after the destruction of the One, but instead were freed, and gained even more power. Frodo was able to find healing and remain in Middle-earth, and Gandalf and the Elves were allowed to make return journeys to Middle-earth. (I know, I know…if only…)*

In this story, Frodo, at the age of 83, has retired to Minas Anor, where he hopes to finish his definitive book on the languages of Men and Elves. Merry’s son Peridoc, Pippin’s son Faramir, and two of Sam’s sons--Merry-lad and Pippin-lad--have accompanied him, for they are to spend two years studying at the Court of the High King.

Frodo: 83 (about 52 ½ in Man-years)
Fam (Faramir) Took: 21 (13 ½ in Man-years)
Perry (Peridoc) Brandybuck: 26 (16 ½ in Man-years)
Merry-lad Gamgee: 23, almost 24 (15 in Man-years)
Pippin-lad Gamgee: 22 (14 in Man-years)]

EUCATASTROPHE IV: HAPPY NEW YEAR

“Uncle Frodo?”

Frodo turned to the door. “Yes, Perry?”

“May we come in?”

Frodo brushed off his fine jacket, and put it on. “Certainly, lads, do come in. Let me see you.”

Perry, Fam, Merry-lad and Pippin-lad all came into the room, looking a bit embarrassed in their finery.

Fam was looking apprehensive. “Uncle Faramir said that the people will want to see us, too. I don’t know why. We weren’t even born then.”

“Because you are your fathers’ sons, my lads, and since your fathers cannot be here, then you shall have to represent them.” Frodo took up his Elven cloak, still as fine and new-looking now, thirty-three years after, as it had that day in Lothlórien when it had been gifted to him. He pinned his brooch there in its accustomed place.

Perry’s breath caught in his throat, as he looked at his older cousin, standing there, his dark curls frosted with sliver, his fair face limned with laughter lines, and his blue eyes looking back at the lads proudly. “You look magnificent, Uncle Frodo!” he breathed.

Frodo laughed, a rich and throaty sound. “Not at all! ‘Magnificent’ is your father, Sir Meriadoc, Master of Buckland! I’m just a Baggins.”

Merry-lad shook his head. “You know what our dad would say to that, Uncle Frodo. ‘There’s no being *just* a Baggins’, he’d say.”

“And there’s no being *just* a Gamgee, either. Come here, Pippin-lad.”

Pippin-lad stepped up, and Frodo adjusted the collar on his shirt, and brushed down his jacket. “You too, Faramir Took!”

Fam obediently suffered Frodo to brush through his curls with his fingers, and then Frodo looked at all their feet.

“Well, I suppose there is no brushing up of your toes at this late hour! Come along then, lads, let’s not keep the King and Gandalf waiting!”

“We would wait as long as we needed to, Frodo Baggins! There will be no starting without you!” said a gruff voice from the doorway.

“Ah, Gandalf! Is everyone ready? I should rather like to get this over with, and get to the feasting.”

“King Elessar awaits you!”

The hobbits followed the wizard out of the anteroom, and out into the Courtyard of the White Tree. There King Elessar and Queen Arwen, Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn, and all their children awaited. Gandalf led the hobbits to a dais which had been placed near the edge of the seventh circle. They would be visible to the throngs of people who filled the courtyard, and even barely visible to the masses gathered in the streets below.

King Elessar addressed the crowd.

“My people! On this day, thirty-three years ago today, the Ringbearer Frodo Baggins put an end to Sauron’s Ring, and brought down the Tower of Barad-dûr, and put an end forever to the threat of the Dark Lord. Because of him, the White City could regain its ancient name of Minas Anor; because of him we no longer dwell in the presence of the Shadow.

Because of him, a New Age was ushered in, and so today we celebrate the New Year. For the first time, the Ringbearer is here among us on the New Year. For the first time we may honor him, as he deserves to be honored.”

There must have been a signal, although the hobbits did not see it. Suddenly, thousands of voices rang out, in a song that had once been heard at the Field of Cormallen:

“Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise!
Cuio I Pheriain anann! Aglar’ni Pheriannath!
Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!
Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annûn! Eglerio!
Praise them!
Eglerio!
A laita te, laita te! Andave laituvalmet!
Praise them!
Cormacolindor, a laita tá rienna!
Praise them, the Ring-bearers, praise them with great praise!”

And then, to the amazement of the five who stood there, King Elessar went down before them on one knee. And like a giant wave, every other person there did the same, and all through the City great bells began to sound.

Frodo stood with tears in his eyes, and glanced proudly at the young hobbits standing with him tall and straight. He wished that their fathers could be there to see this.

He looked up, and caught Gandalf’s eye, and was surprised to see tears there as well. He smiled at the wizard through his tears, and noticed the flash of fire on Gandalf’s hand, as Narya paid tribute to the one who had freed it from dominion.

The four younger hobbits looked about them in wide-eyed astonishment. They had known, they had *always* known, that their Uncle Frodo was considered a hero, there had never been a time for them when their fathers had not made sure the story was told. But Frodo Baggins--he’d always been their gentle and funny Uncle Frodo, who read to them and played games and endured their pranks and squabbles and wiped their tears. Never before had they realized just what his story had meant, and how deeply he was honored and beloved in all the world.

And as they watched the King rise to embrace his smaller friend, and everyone else rose as well, with a great and resounding cheer, they could only think--this is how it *should* be!

___________________________________________________

* The previous stories set in this universe are--

Eucatastrophe: http://www.storiesofarda.com/chapterlistview.asp?SID=1900

Eucatastrophe II: Everything Sad Come Untrue http://www.storiesofarda.com/texteditor/chapterlist.asp?SID=2984

Eucatastrophe III: Yuletide in Minas Anor   http://www.storiesofarda.com/chapterview.asp?sid=3043&cid=17199





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