XXIX

Spring

The next morning, after having slept through the first day of the new age, Esme Brandybuck awoke to brilliant sunlight pouring into the bedroom. She turned her head to see what she had seen upon waking for many years, the face of her dear husband on the pillow beside hers. His hair was now grey, there were lines tracing delicate patterns on his face, he was stockier than when they had wed, but all the same things could be said of her. It sometimes seemed odd to her that it all only served to make her love him more. Each line, each precious grey hair being a reminder of their years together. She snuggled close to Saradoc, wishing nothing more in the world than to be where she was.

"Esme?" he mumbled sleepily.

She nuzzled his nose with hers, then kissed him. "Yes?"

"Esme!" His eyes opened wide. Esme had trouble keeping up with the flow of emotions they showed. Surprise. Joy. Fear. Wonder. Love. "Esmeralda?"

She giggled and kissed his nose again. "Is that all you can say? ‘Twill make for rather tedious conversations from now on."

"Esme!" If she had been prepared with another witty reply, it would have to wait. Saradoc kissed her long and well before drawing back to once again stare at her face and into her eyes. "You look beautiful."

Now she drew back a bit from him. "I’m not at all sure how to take that, Mr. Brandybuck. You sound surprised." Her voice taunted him, her eyes teased. "Perhaps you aren’t really my Saradoc. After all, he has always told me I’m beautiful therefore he would not find that in the least bit surprising."

He brought his left hand out from under the covers to softly, hesitantly, caress her face. "You are beautiful. Beautiful you are. Beautiful are you. Are you beautiful? Yes. You are all aglow. Your eyes are sparkling like old Gandalf’s fireworks. For sometime now I thought I had lost this Esmeralda forever. Yes, I’m surprised to see her back so quickly."

Her eyes darkened. "It was dark and terrible." She shuddered, then the light returned in her Tookish green eyes. "But . . . that is no more. The Enemy is gone."

"Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam. You spoke of them. You knew where they were. Do you still know? Are they alright? Are they . . ."

Esme closed her eyes and lay silently for a few moments. "They live," she whispered as her eyes slowly opened. "I can’t tell anything else. I only know that I would know if . . . if they were dead. Whatever gift it was that let me see them all is gone."

Saradoc kissed his wife’s forehead. "They are alive. That is enough to know. I would just as soon that this will be the end of this strange sight of yours, it troubles me."

She hugged him tightly. "I think it will be. The Dark is gone and the light is shining clean and strong. I think there will be no further need of my gift." Saradoc relaxed and they lay together blessing the new day.

It was truly beginning to be spring in the Shire. The sun shone in the proper amounts. It rained the proper amounts. The seeds were sown in the dark, fertile soil. The foals and calves, kids and lambs frolicked about after their mothers and after each other. Young hobbit lads wrestled and young lasses picked flowers in the soft grassy fields. Their older siblings paired up, lads with lasses, for walks along the lanes. Though the Rules were still posted, though there were still more sherriffs than ever before, it became easy for the hobbits of the Shire and Buckland to begin to forget the long harsh winter. That is, it was easy for most of the hobbits. There were more than the usual number of new graves in the cemeteries and family plots of the hobbits.

Hamfast Gamgee stood beside the grave of his life’s companion. He had asked both Tom Cottons to dig up a solid piece of sod the length and width of Bell’s grave, a section of turf that the Gaffer knew to be full of wild flowers that bloomed throughout the spring, summer and autumn. He brought his watering can with him each day to make sure the cut slice of earth survived and took root in its new location.

Dimm Twofoot had come to Number Seven Lobelia Lane in the early afternoon that first day of the coming of spring. He was wanting to see if the dear souls had sensed the change, if the Gaffer had been outside to smell the new freshness in the air. He knocked upon the rickety door but received no answer so, after a proper wait, he entered the small shack. In the gloom he noted the empty chairs by the cold hearth. He saw the empty chair beside the bed. He saw the shapes of bodies beneath the many covers on the bed. Quietly Dimm walked to the bed dreading what he might find, dreading that both his dear friends were gone. The Gaffer lay with his arms around Bell, Bell whose skin had turned the bloodless pale hue of the dead.

"She has gone." Hamfast whispered. "She left durin’ the night. Left quiet and peaceful, with no gaspin’ nor strugglin’ with pain." He kissed Bell’s cold cheek.

Dimm lay a gentle hand on the old hobbit’s uncovered shoulder. "I’m glad she went peaceful, Gaffer, with the one she’d loved her whole life beside her." Dimm stood there patting and rubbing Ham’s shoulder as the old hobbit began to weep, giving him time to continue his grieving before speaking again. "Ya need ta be lettin’ loose o’ her, Gaffer, so as she can be tended to proper. I want ya gettin’ yourself dressed and comin’ to our place so as ta get some food in ya."

"And get us all in a fix with them Ruffians? Nay, Dimm, ya can’t be takin’ me in," the Gaffer said without taking his arms from around his wife.

"There don’t seem to be a great many o’ them about, Gaffer. And I don’t care much for what they might or mightn’t do, you be grievin’ and those of us what be friends and kin need to be seein’ to ya and Bell proper." Dimm tugged a bit at his friend’s shoulder. "Come on now, I’ll take no arguin’ from you."

Dimm helped the Gaffer get dressed and over to the shack the Twofoots shared. Daddy sat his best friend down in the rocker near the fire, poured him an ale from a jug that had been smuggled in, fetched him a bowl of stew, then sat in companionable silence while Ham slowly ate his first meal of the day. Dimm fetched the Cottons and while Lilly and Rosie tended to Bell, young Tom and Dimm readied the grave while Tom built the simple coffin.

In the pink light of that first warm spring evening, a spring their own Sam had helped bring to Middle-earth though they did not know it, Bell Gamgee had been laid to rest in the small family plot that held Bilbo’s father and mother, as per the instructions in Bilbo’s will.