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Dreamflower's Mathoms II  by Dreamflower

 
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place in my Eucatastrophe AU, in which the Three Rings do not fade, but are freed instead, by the destruction of the One, and in which Saruman was killed by Quickbeam in the destruction of Isengard--so that Sharkey never came to the Shire. Elves are, for the first time, free to return to Middle-earth from Valinor, and--most important of all, Frodo was healed, and lived on in the Shire…

EUCATASTROPHE V: MIDSUMMER FAIR, S.R. 1427

In the Inn at Michel Delving, Sam nervously fidgeted as Rose and Frodo patted and pulled him into what they thought of as presentable shape. Rose was tugging down the back of his jacket, and Frodo was fussing with his cravat. The new suit, a gift from Frodo, felt far too fine, as did the weskit, with its beautiful embroidery, a gift from Strider--King Elessar, as he was now--and Queen Arwen. Frodo had confidently proclaimed that the embroidery was clearly from the Queen’s own hand, and it had nearly put Sam off of even wearing it.

But though he might be called Samwise the Stout-hearted in them fool songs from away South, it took a braver hobbit than he was to gainsay *both* his wife and his best friend when they were determined on something “for his own good”.

Still enough was enough, and he finally said so. “No more poking and prodding!” he exclaimed, stepping sideways away from the helpful hands. “It won’t make me a lick prettier to look at than I was a minute ago. My hair’s combed and my toes are brushed, and that should be good enough for anyone!”

Frodo chuckled, and nodded ruefully, but Rose reached up one more time to straighten the back of his collar before she too desisted, giving him a peck on the cheek before stepping back. Then she turned her eye on Frodo himself, and gave a tug to his lapels.

“Rose!” said Sam, “stop fussing!”

She sighed and shook her head. “Oh, Sam, me dear! I do think I’m more nervous than you!”

Sam smiled, and kissed the top of her head. “Well, Rosie, it’s not every day you become the Mayor’s wife.”

And Sam and Rose both looked at Frodo, who was beaming at them.

“Frodo, you know--” said Sam thoughtfully.

“Ah, no, Sam. It *is* too late. I never intended to be Mayor more than just the one term--you know that you are the one I always intended to have the job.”

“I know, Mr.--” he stopped and blushed. It was rare any more for him to slip and say “Mr. Frodo”, but once in a while it still happened. “I know, Frodo, and I’ve never understood why.”

“Because, Sam, you will be good at it. As my Deputy for the last seven years, you’ve already been doing most of the job--especially in the past year. I’ve always craved a peaceful life, such as Bilbo used to live, free to write and translate my books, or take a ramble if I like, without having official duties in my way. Being the Head of the Bagginses is enough of a job, though few enough of us are left anyway.”

“Well, you deserve such a rest, and no mistake, Frodo. But you was a lot better at this than I’ll ever be.”

“We’ll see,” said Frodo, not wishing to get into one of those interminable arguments about Sam’s worth and his own. It had been several years since the Ring-induced feelings of worthlessness he once carried had been banished, but he was also wise enough to recognize his own talents and limitations. While the Shire was still getting over the damage caused by Lotho’s foolishness, he was needed. But now her healing was complete, and Sam would be the best person for the job. And, selfishly, Frodo wished to be free to travel once more--to spend a month or two in Buckland with his cousins and perhaps visit Bree, to take a short jaunt to Rivendell, or even, perhaps make a visit to Minas Anor to see Strider once more.

“At any rate,” Frodo continued, “the Family Heads have agreed in Convocation, and you’ve been duly elected. You don’t want to offend every family in the Shire, do you?”

“Snakes and adders no!”

“Well then, that’s that!”

There was a rap at the door, and Frodo reached to open it. Merry and Pippin, resplendent in their livery, stood there grinning.

Pippin said “We’re here to escort the Mayor and the Mayor-Elect to the ceremony.”

Sam took a deep breath and biting his lip, he gave a nod. Rose gave his hand a squeeze, and Frodo gave him a reassuring smile.

The little group moved out of the inn, and headed for the fair grounds.
__________________________________

On the dais stood all the worthies of the Shire: the Thain, the Master of Buckland, the Mayor, and the Mayor-Elect, and all were flanked by Sir Meriadoc, Knight of the Mark, and Sir Peregrin, Knight of the City.

Ranged in the front of the crowd of hobbits who had come to attend this year’s Free Fair, were all the Family Heads, as well as Rose, who stood between Estella Brandybuck, and Pippin’s bride Diamond. Near the edge of the crowd were some taller figures: Legolas Greenleaf, Gimli, son of Gloín, and Haldad, the King’s Messenger. And then another tall figure approached the rest.

Frodo’s face broke into a delighted grin, and he elbowed Sam, and gave a nod in that direction. Merry and Pippin noticed as well, and their faces, too, lit up.

The figure in his snowy white robes gave a nod, as he realized they had seen him. He raised a hand in greeting, but did not interrupt, and suddenly Sam realized that the Thain was speaking. Seeing old Gandalf had quite made him forget where he was!

“…and so,” proclaimed Paladin, “a consensus has been reached by the Family Heads of both the Greater and Lesser Houses, that the Office of Mayor of Michel Delving and thus the Shire, will be turned over to Master Samwise Gamgee, who has, for the last seven years, served admirably as Deputy. I now call upon Mayor Frodo Baggins to perform his last action as Mayor.”

Frodo stepped forward confidently, his face flushed with pleasure. He drew a paper from his inside jacket pocket, and opened it.

“My fellow hobbits, I actually have *two* last duties to perform. Before I turn my Office over to my very capable successor, it is my pleasure to proclaim before you an Edict from our King, Elessar Telcontar, Aragorn son of Arathorn, the High King of Gondor and Arnor, Lord and Captain of the West.


“Unto the Worthies of the Shire, Thain Paladin Took, Master Saradoc Brandybuck, Mayor Frodo Baggins, and all of the Heads of the Families of the Four Farthings and Buckland, We, Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor, are pleased to Proclaim Our Land of the Shire a Free State, under the Protection of the Kingdom of Arnor, to belong to the Hobbits of the Shire so long as the Heirs of Our Body shall Occupy the Thrones of the Two Kingdoms.

May all know these words: We shall Protect the Shire from all Enemies Without. Howsoever, all that takes place Within shall be the Affair of the Leaders of the Shire without recourse to Arnor. And no Lands belonging to the Shire shall ever be ceded to the Race of Man.

Thus it is done, by Our Hand and Seal:

Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor.”

Frodo paused a moment for the cheering to die down, and then he raised a hand for silence. When all had quieted, he said “This means that the Shire will belong to hobbits, and hobbits only, from now on. Our King had consulted us when he was considering this Edict, and at one point he contemplated banning Men from our Shire forever, including even himself. But we believed that this was unnecessary, that hobbits can hold their place in the world without such inhospitality. It is, in fact, my fond hope that one day our beloved King himself *will* visit us, and see our beautiful Shire for himself!”

There was another eruption of cheering, and once more Frodo waited it out. Then he continued. “For almost seven years I have held this Office, and during that time I have had at my side a hobbit of unshakeable loyalty and of incredible bravery. Most of you have heard by now how the Dark was defeated--and none of that would have been possible if I had not had Samwise Gamgee at my side.

But that is not what will make him a great Mayor. What will make him a great Mayor is his unquenchable hope and his steady hobbit-sense. There is no hobbit better suited to guide the Shire for the next seven years--and my fond hope, for many more terms after, than Samwise Gamgee.

And so, it is with great pride that I turn this Office over to the greatest friend and wisest hobbit I know.”

Tears of pride stood in Frodo’s eyes, as he took from around his neck the blue ribbon from which the large Key, symbolizing the Mayor’s Office, hung. Turning, he placed it around Sam’s neck.

Sam’s own brown eyes were also tear-filled, as he met his friend’s fond gaze. Frodo clasped his shoulder, and Pippin stood forth and exclaimed:

“Three cheers for Mayor Samwise Gamgee!”

And the crowd burst out: “Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”

And Sam looked out over all the assembled hobbitry, and for a moment he thought back to the Field of Cormallen, and all the cheering then, and he realized with a sudden clarity, that this moment was sweeter still, for it was Home, and these hobbits *knew* him, and they loved him and they loved Frodo.

“Glory and splendor!” he thought. “This is how it all should be.”





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