For Mark for his birthday.  I hope that he realizes how dearly I miss talking with him.

Comfort Needed

            “You go on in and help them in the kitchen, lovie.  I’ll bathe the byrthin’ here.”

            Rosie looked at her beloved daughter, held so lovingly by her dear husband.  “Well, it’s certain it’s a bath as she needs.  She’s cake an’ frostin’ from head to toe!”

            As if to emphasize her mother’s observation, Elanor rubbed at her eyes with a frosting-laden fist, leaving her eyebrows and lashes flecked with amber-colored sugar and butter, flavored with juice of lemons sent from the south of Gondor.

            “That’s the truth,” Sam responded.  “Your mum and Goodie Twofoot are waitin’ for you, sweetling.”

            The two of them went in through the rear door to Bag End, Rosie going to the right into the kitchen while Sam carried Elanor down to the left into the bathing room.  She smiled to see him close the door behind him, knowing he was likely to be as wet as Elanor herself before they were done.

            The kettle was beginning to sing on the hob as she joined her mother and neighbor in the washing up, and she gladly accepted a cup of tea before dampening a rag to wipe down the table top where the birthday meal had been prepared.  Most of the dishes were already washed and stacked, with her mother Lily drying them before returning them to their places on the kitchen dresser while Missus Twofoot finished up the forks and spoons.  “It’s a joy to clean up in so comfortable a kitchen,” said Missus Twofoot.  “I put the sweets in the front larder, and the little meat as was left in the cool room.  There wasn’t no taters nor beans left at all, and but a dab of peas ‘n’ carrots left for tomorrow. They’re over there by the dry sink.”

            “I’ll see to those,” Rosie said.

            Once all was set in order in the Bag End kitchen, the three Hobbitesses sat down at the kitchen table with still another cup of tea, sharing gossip and observations of the day until Goodie Twofoot heard the mantel clock strike nine.

            “Oh, my!  Look at the time!” she sighed.  “I must to home now, or dear Daddy will be for bed afore I set foot in the dear hole.  Thank you so for invitin’ us to share Elanor’s day, dear.  It was a day to remember.  Now, if only Master Frodo could of been here to see!  He’d of loved it, I know.”

            So saying, she rose to her feet and fetched her shawl from the settle in the corner and wrapped it around her shoulders while Lily Cotton lit a lantern to see her down the lane to the Row.  With thanks on both sides, Rosie and Lily saw her to the front door and out, watching to see she got down the front steps safely, and waving as the dear lady descended the Hill to her own home.

            Rosie set two more logs on the parlor fire, banking the coals and closing down the damper so they might last the night.  Lily set the screen in place and blew out the candles.  For a few moments they stood in the room lit by only by the flames on the hearth.  “It don’t seem right,” Lily said softly, “that he’s gone now.  He loved it here so.”

            “I know,” Rosie agreed.

            “And who’d of thought as Bag End would become yours and Sam’s?” her mother continued.  “Now it’ll be the Gamgees of Bag End rather than the Bagginses.  Not somethin’ as I’d of dreamed of.  At least,” she added, “it’s not them Sackville-Bagginses no longer.  That was a nightmare when Lotho and Lobelia was lordin’ it over the whole of the Shire as if bein’ Master and Mistress of the Hill made them lord and lady over all.”  She sighed.  “Well, your dad and the lads and Marigold ought to be home and ready to bed down for the night by now.  Hope as someone saw to the cats afore they go to sleep.  I’ll admit, though, to be glad as Marigold loves the farm as much as we do.  She’s a right responsible one.  Made it easier for me to agree to spend the night.  It’s right nice not to have to waken early to milk the cow.”

            They shared a laugh.

            As they headed toward the hall to the bedrooms, Lily commented, “I’m so glad as Mister Frodo didn’t take Sam with him when he went.”

            Rosie shook her head.  “Him didn’t want Sam to come, too.  He let me know that afore they left.  Said as Sam was needed here, by me and the bairn and the whole of the Shire.  I understand, though, as him said the time might come when Sam might follow him, but not now.  But I don’t think as he’ll think to leave until I’m gone.”

            Lily paused to look into her daughter’s eyes.  “You’re a lucky one, lass, that both Sam and his Master have been so honorable.”  She leaned forward to kiss Rosie’s brow.  “So lucky!” she murmured. 

            They parted at the door to the bedroom where Lily would spend the night.  A rush light was burning within, and an oil lamp burned low on a sconce in the hall.  As her mother closed the door, Rosie went into the privy.  All was clean and ready for the coming day, as was true of the bathing room as well.  “Yes, I am lucky,” she whispered.  “Most husbands tend to be so careless with clothes and towels and all; but Sam has it cleaner than me most of the time.

            Elanor now slept in the nursery across the hall from the master bedroom that had been hers and Sam’s since the night they were married.  Rosie slipped inside.  “How sweet she looks,” she whispered, leaning over the low crib in which her child slept.  She could smell the soft and delightful scent of the herbal and flower-laden soap with which Sam had washed the lass’s curls clean of frosting and cake crumbs, and the scent of the gardens in which her nightgown had been dried after its last washing.  He’d even brushed the hair on her head and feet dry before putting the bairn to bed, she noted, leaving her brushes neatly on the table where he’d seen her nappy in place and her readied for sleep.  She gently kissed the child’s golden curls, marveling once more that she’d produced this beautiful little lass.

            “I understand now how it was that Master Frodo’s mummy told others as to how, seein’ how wonderful it was to have such a child, it would be more wonderful to have more!  Well, I think as it’s about time we started workin’ on a brother or sister for you, our Elanorellë!”

            She gave a pat to the orange cat that slept at her bairn’s feet.  How often he’d slept with Master Frodo, lying at the Master’s shoulder that was so often cold and aching as if purposely to give comfort.  Now he seemed intent on watching over the daughter of the house.  He roused briefly and sniffed at her hand before closing his eyes and laying his head again on his paws, purring softly, letting her know that her child would be safe with him beside her. 

            She gave a last scratch to an ear and left the room, crossing the hall to the master bedroom, hoping to catch Sam still awake.  His waistcoat and trousers hung from the clothes stand Master Frodo had had made for him, but Samwise Gamgee was not in the room, neither in the oversized bed nor on the settee where she and he would cuddle before the fire when they wanted to talk before retiring.  Where was he?

            She returned to the hall, perplexed.  She realized that the door to the room next door to theirs wasn't quite closed.

            Oh, but Sam, too, had been thinking on his absent Master, she realized.  She pushed the door further open enough to see that her husband, dressed in a nightshirt and with his Lórien cloak about him, lay upon Frodo’s old bed, holding Master’s pillow to him in comfort.  He was murmuring, ”And Strider’d sent us some of those yellow lemon fruits for the New Year.  Rosie thought to put the juice from one into the frostin’ for Elanor’s birthday cake, and how our Elanor loved it!  If only you could of been here to taste it, and to see her smearin’ it into her hair and all.  Had to bathe her carefully to get it all clean again.”

            His voice was slowing.  He sounded sad and rather tired.  She knew that tonight he was missing his Master deeply, and her heart ached for him.  After all, she and Elanor missed Frodo Baggins as much as did Samwise Gamgee or any of Frodo’s many kin.

            When Sam paused to yawn, she entered the room quietly to join him on the bed, scooting carefully behind him and putting her own arms around his shoulders.  He twisted in surprise as he realized he was no longer alone, but she shook her head, seeking to reassure him.  “It’s all right, Sam.  I know as it’s not as if him was here to listen, but—who knows?  Mebbe the Powers or old Mister Gandalf is able to let him know what you’re wishin’ to tell him—what both of us want him to know about Elanor’s birthday.  It oughta be his right to know—after all, he named her.”

            He gave her a watery smile.  “How right you are, dearling.

            She turned her face upward, resting her cheek against the back of his head, rejoicing in the softness of his curls.  He briefly held his hand to touch hers before clasping the pillow again.

            “Truth to tell, we all miss you somethin’ terrible, Frodo.  All of us.  Missus Lily stayed to help in the cleanin’ up, and I suspect as in the mornin’ she’ll be getting’ up early to care for our Elanorellë so’s Rosie and me will be able to get a bit of a lie-in. ’Twill be welcome, though as you know we don’t mind at all carin’ for our own daughter.  But how glad she’d be if’n it was you as came in to lift her from her cot of the mornin’.  She still stops to look into your room here each time she toddles down the hallway.  Can you believe that a bairn so young is already walkin’ free throughout the hole?  And she’ll look back at me over her shoulder and ask, ‘Fro?’, a-wantin’ to know as when you might come home again.

            “But Rosie and me—we’re so hopin’ as the journey has indeed brought you the healin’ as you deserve, and that you aren’t alone there, so far away, surrounded by Elves as you are.  You might love bein’ with the Elves, but I suspect as you miss home, too, and your own folk, as much as us Hobbits have frustrated you for years with our willin’ness to pretend as nothin’ out there matters to the folks of the Shire.  At least old Mister Bilbo is with you—at least for as long as he can stay; Master Elrond told me as the time will come when he must go on and finally die to this world, and that this is true for you, too.  I hope as that time don’t come too soon, that you----"  He stopped to lick his lips.  “You stay as long as you can, and know all the beauty as there is, there in Tol Eressëa, you hear?  I want to hear all about it, there at the Feast.”

            Rosie could hear the tears in his voice, and felt a few slipping down her own cheeks toward her ears.  “So let it be!” she whispered, turning her head to burrow her forehead between his shoulder blades.  “We do miss you so, Mister Frodo.  But you deserve all the time for healin’ as you need.”

            Both the Gamgees stilled, and soon were asleep atop Frodo’s bed, a silver light growing protectively about them.

            So, here the two of you are now, not in your own bed as is right and proper.  You are right, Sam—I do miss the Shire, and especially this family that allowed me to adopt you all.  And you are right, Rosie, that those here are kind, and at times let me know what is happening with those I love most.  Too bad that Merry and Pippin went on to the Great Smial with the Thain and his Lady earlier.  I’m not certain whether I’ll be allowed to look in on them, too.  If not, well, at least I know they have each other, and that Merry and Estella have made their own promises now. 

            I do hope Lord Irmo will allow you to know reassurance that I am indeed recovering, that the scars are being cleansed away, and that I begin to know hope again.  Oh, but it is so beautiful here.  I’ve been to the headlands to the west, and I have been granted glimpses of the Undying Lands there.  I can’t expect to see them directly, not as long as I still dwell in a mortal body, but I live with the glow of them touching my heart, at least.

            I rejoice that you do think of me and care so for my welfare.  Be at peace, dearlings.  Know I shall never cease loving you as you love me.  Eru and the Powers keep and sustain you and all you care for.

            Oh, and Sam—when Will Whitfoot comes to you, please answer him, Yes, sir, I’ll do that.  Please!

            The silver glow surrounded them for a time, and they did not feel a soft, light blanket laid over them, and were barely aware of the kisses to the head of each.

*******

            After visiting the privy, Lily Brown Cotton went down the hallway to check on the bairn.  Elanor was just beginning to stretch as her gammer entered the nursery.

            “So, here you are, only now beginnin’ to stir, sweet Elanor.  You ready to get up now?  And how’s your nappy, sweet dumpling?” 

            As she reached down to pick up the tiny, golden-haired child, she paused.  “And how is it as you have one of your name-flowers in your hand, dearlin’?” she asked.  It was the largest blossom of elanor that she’d seen, and the scent of it was sweeter than she’d noticed in the examples of the flower Sam had planted throughout the gardens of Bag End.

            Elanor blinked at her before fixing her gaze on the blossom.  “Fro,” she answered, and was there a hint of pride in that pronouncement?

            “Oh,” Lily responded.  “Hmm.  It ’pears as you need more’n just a clean nappy.  Let’s take your pretty flower to the bathin’ room, shall we?”

            When they entered the hallway, however, Elanor turned her head to the door to her parent’s room and began stretching her hand with the flower that way.  “Dada, mummy!” she said.

            “So, you want to share the blossom with your mummy and daddy, do you?  But, do you really want to waken them?”

            The bairn was insistent.  “Yeah.  Mummy, dada!”

            But their bed was empty, and didn’t look to have been slept in.  Where could they be?

            Now Elanor was looking further down the hallway to the open door to what had been Master Frodo’s room.  “Do you think as they’re in there, sweetling?” the lass’s grandmother asked.  She carefully approached the room so the two of them could peek in.

            There lay Rosie and Sam, lying spooned together, a soft white blanket not previously seen in Bag End’s stores laid over them, and with coral-colored roses and golden elanor blossoms filling the vase on the bedside table.