A/N:  I just want to make sure everyone saw my belatedly added note that this is AU since of course Aragorn did not see his small brother again in this life, but he will here.

Chapter Two: A Yule Surprise

Aragorn reached Prince Imrahil and informed him of Sam’s letter and need and the man immediately came to his king’s side and prepared himself to take up the rule of Gondor as he had after Denethor’s death, when Faramir had been too ill to be Steward. Preparations were then made for the long journey to the Shire. It was hoped that they would come in time for Yule and thus give Frodo a reason for their most unexpected appearance.

The quickly spreading word that the king, queen and steward were all leaving and would be gone for months was met with great surprise. No one knew what to make of it, least of all the counselors and minsters in charge of the daily running of the Citadel who were quite taken aback when Aragorn made his unexpected announcement. The foremost minster was very flustered, his hands full of important documents that needed the king’s attention that he clutched to his chest. Many official and royal functions that had been planned for months had to be suddenly canceled and all sorts of new arrangements had to be made... Aragorn could see that the man was on the verge of a brainstorm and so assured him the Prince Imrahil would be a most worthy ruler in his stead in the nine months he would be gone and none of the meetings would have to be canceled. The Prince had his fullest confidence and ability to speak in the name of the king.

"Nine months!" the man exclaimed, his mouth opening and closing several times as he gasped for breath.

Aragorn was again fearful for the man’s health. The minister had served Lord Denethor very ably and the Ranger-become-king remembered him when he had been a young child, living in the Citadel while his father fulfilled the same position now held by him. Even then, he had not liked surprises and this was a great one.

"Peace, Beranheld," the king assured. "There is naught to fear. I do not go without very good reason. The Ring-bearer is in need and I go as healer, friend and king to him, since he cannot come to me."

The man took another breath to try to calm himself. "The Ring-bearer! Well, then, I suppose, it is all well that you do go. I...."

Aragorn smiled. "It is well."

The word further spread that it was on the behalf of the Ring-bearer that the king, queen and steward were leaving. Aragorn had no doubt as to who had spread the news for no tongue was faster than Ioreth in all of Gondor. It was undoubtedly due to her skill that many piles of gifts and goods, far more than they could have ever transported without a small army accompanying them, began to arrive in the Citadel, all given for the ease of the Ring-bearer.

"I wonder what she said," Faramir said, with dry amusement.

Arwen supervised the gifts, all given from the heart, and was quite touched by them. Some were candies, or toys, or candles. Some were books, or writing sticks, for it was well known that the Ring-bearer was a scribe. Some were great works of original art and beauty. The queen wished Frodo could indeed see them all, but there was no way, so many of the gifts were given to the poorer families in Gondor, to the orphans and widows, primarily and Arwen knew Frodo would have wished it to be so. She, Aragorn and Faramir picked up some items to take with them as well and the king had to wipe away some tears when he saw how deeply loved and revered his little friend was by the people of Gondor.

When they were ready to leave, with their escort and three carts of goods for themselves and Frodo and Sam, many lined the path they were to take to the great gates and beyond. A little boy was there out in front, held in his mother’s arms and he reached up a stuffed bear to his king.

"Please, sir, please, give this to the Ring-bearer," he said.

Aragorn took with a smile and with thanks. The boy smiled shyly back and the woman curtsied, a bit overwhelmed that their king had spoken to them.

"What love they bear him," Faramir remarked. "And you."

"They are a loving people," Aragorn said with pride, that he would lead such a grand and noble folk.

The trip to the Shire was long and at times dangerous and increasingly cold. But none complained, not through the icy rain, the snow, the wind that cut through their warmest cloaks, for they knew they were going toward great warmth for there was no love among family and friends like there was among hobbits. Aragorn smiled just to think of it and Arwen and Faramir smiled just to see that. It was what keep them riding through all conditions.

At last, they came through Bree and stayed the night at The Prancing Pony. It was with befuddled amazement that Barliman Butterbur recognized Strider the Ranger, for much closer in dress was he than that of the king for this journey. But he remembered the words of his hobbit friends, that Strider was now king and he was standing right here in the Pony’s common room, just like he had many a time before! The great beauty of Arwen caught many an eye, but none accosted her for they all saw the company within with she traveled. Butterbur served them himself, with Strider ordering the same beer he ever had. Faramir took a pint of his own and being quite pleased with the quality, told the man so. The little man was quite beside himself with satisfaction, not the least because word had already spread and the room was slowly filling up, with those who wanted to see the king and queen. Business was going to be very good. He was a bit disappointed that they were only going to stay the night, but Aragorn told them they were on the way to see Frodo. At that, the man told him to give the hobbit his very best and insisted that he take some cheese and beer back with him, compliments of the Pony. Aragorn accepted graciously. The man was quite impressed with the king, though Aragorn could see that he was still trying to reconcile in his mind, that the mysterious Ranger who had frequented his place now and again was now king of a distant land.

When they reached Hobbiton, it was nearing dusk, the day before Yule. They had made it in time. They passed many curious hobbits along the way and came at last to the door of Bag End, well described by Gandalf and Bilbo, so Aragorn knew just where to go. Their escort Aragorn sent to The Green Dragon, which he looked forward to visiting himself, for he had heard much about it from his friends.

He politely knocked and Sam answered the door. His eyes widened in surprise and joy to see his king smiling down at him.

"You came!" he cried, then lowered his voice. "I hardly knew to hope for it, until I got your message back."

"Who is it, Sam?" came Frodo’s voice.

"A few friends who wish to share Yule with you," called Aragorn.

Frodo came to the door in stunned amazement. "How in the Shire...." He threw himself into Aragorn’s arms and then into Faramir’s. Both men barely had enough time to kneel in order to properly embrace their friend.

Frodo bowed deeply to Arwen. "My most fair lady queen..."

The three were concerned at how thin their friend still was, no matter how tight and enthusiastic his embrace had been. There were dark circles under his eyes and those eyes were awash with suffering, but there was happiness there too at this most unexpected of surprises.

Merry and Pippin came out next, followed by a heavily pregnant Rose. The two Travelers rushed to hug their friends.

"Strider!" Merry cried. "Have you come to recall Pippin back into service?"

Aragorn laughed. "Not at the present."

Rose curtsied to the king and queen, a bit taken aback that they were actually standing in the same hole she lived in, but she rose to the occassion and Sam was that proud of her. "Welcome, my lord and lady," she said. "We were just about to sit down for supper. Would you care to come in?"

Aragorn bowed to her. "You are most gracious, my lady Rose. We are most heavily in your debt for there is no cooking like Shire cooking."

Rose blushed prettily.

"You are in for a treat, my queen and steward," Aragorn said as they ducked their heads to miss the low ceiling and entered the dining room.

Sam had quickly set out three extra settings and they all sat down for a most merry meal.

"This is a wonderful surprise," Frodo said. "How in the world did you think to come?"

"I received a special invitation," Aragorn said with a twinkle in his eye.

The eldest hobbit looked suspiciously at Sam who was busy laddling out the soup. "Sam..."

"Mr. Frodo?" the gardener asked innocently, bracing himself for his master’s reaction and hoping Frodo wouldn’t see it.

If he did - and Sam did not doubt that he did - he gave no indication of it. Frodo squeezed his hand and Sam held it a lingering moment before squeezing gently back. "You gave me a most marvelous Yule gift this year, Sam," the erstwhile Ring-bearer said with more life in his eyes and voice than had been there for months. There was soft and tender love in them, as there always was when Frodo looked at and spoke to his gardener and guardian, but though the ever-present pain was still there, it was less and they all silently rejoiced to see it.

Sam breathed out silently in relief. He had no idea how his master would react to seeing his friend and he certainly hadn’t expected the queen and steward to come as well! "You’re welcome, me dear," he said and continuing filling the bowls. He had a feeling that his master wasn’t going to let him off that easy and he wondered, just a mite uneasily, what more was to come.

Nothing else happened though and the conversation was more animated than usual. Arwen engaged Rose in conversation in a deliberate attempt to put her at ease, and later helped served tea and dessert. Merry and Pippin talked, and most of the time at the same time, to Aragorn and Faramir, who valiantly tried to keep all their words straight, and respond when they could get a word in.

Frodo did not contribute much, but they all saw his soft smile as he was able to push away the shadows for a night and just bask in the company of so many beloved friends. Arwen saw that he wore her gift on a chain around his neck and he often fingered it when he didn’t think anyone was watching, but his fair features were softly lit from within and there was little on the surface that she could find complaint with. The song of his fea was a bit more lyrical than it had been when she had heard it last, more like she had heard it in Rivendell, before the burden had been taken up once more and the Quest begun. There was still great sadness and pain, but there was also a beauty to it that she was glad to be able to hear. She wondered what thought he had given to her other gift.

Beds were found in two of the spare bedrooms when at last the group retired. Frodo gave Aragorn and Faramir each a good night hug, and Arwen another deep bow, and left for his own room. When Sam came in to check on him as he always did, the elder hobbit was already in bed, blankets up to his chin. He looked up with a loving smile for his dearest friend.

"Thank you again, Sam. Tomorrow will be the most wonderful Yule since the last one Bilbo spent here. I wish he was here to celebrate with us."

"Don’t you think he is, in your heart?" Sam said with a return smile.

"As he always has been, yes, and always will be, just like you always will be, and Merry and Pippin, and everyone, but still I wish he was here, to see it all."

"When you see him next, you can tell me all about it."

"Yes," Frodo said and there was a wistfulness to his voice that Sam wondered about.

"Goodnight, me dear," he said with a kiss to his master’s head. "I love you."

"I love you, too, my dearest Sam," Frodo said, kneeling on the bed to tightly embrace his friend and brother and kiss his cheek goodnight.

Sam returned the hug and then departed, leaving the door slightly ajar as he always did, just in case his master needed him in the night, but he had a thought that Frodo wouldn’t, not tonight. He smiled. He had barely dared to hope his letter would be answered, but hope was something he could not abandon entirely. It had been rewarded once more and so he continued to hope for some relief now for his beloved master. It seemed tonight was the first time that the bleeding from deep within him that Sam could control but not completely staunch had slowed to a trickle. Perhap one day it would stop and heal entirely. It was with a lighter heart that Sam sought his wife’s arms that night and slept soundly, getting up only once to check on his master-brother-almost child.

Frodo was sleeping peacefully, shining and smiling softly, and his hands were free, not clutched around the gem or the chain. Sam lingered there a bit, just watching him, then looked in also at his guests and smiled at their slumbering figures as well. There had only been one bed that was big enough for a man to sleep in and the king and queen had taken that. The hobbits had been rather embarrassed not to have proper arrangements for Faramir, who looked now rather scrunched up, but the Steward had accepted such with grace, saying that since his four friends had made him an honorary hobbit, he certainly should use a hobbit’s bed. Sam returned to his bed. He glanced at the window. Snow was beginning to fall. Yes, it was going to be a wonderful Yule, just as his master had said.