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Starship  by shirebound

Author note:  This chapter refers to my ficlet “Living Jewels”, archived under “Tales from Tol Eressëa”.

STARSHIP

Chapter 7: At Luncheon 


O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.

‘The Grey Havens’, The Fellowship of the Ring


“Sam, wait until you taste the bread Lady Eärwen sends Bilbo and me,” Frodo said.  He led Sam to the sunny kitchen.  “She’s Galadriel’s mother.  I haven’t learned to make it nearly as...” He heard Sam gasp, and turned to find his friend standing stock-still, staring straight ahead.  “What is it?” he asked anxiously.  “Did you get up too soon?”

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam whispered.  Frodo followed his gaze, and realized that Sam was looking into the kitchen, and straight through the open door that led out to the garden.  “The… the colors!  They…”

“I know,” Frodo said softly.  “It took me rather a long time to get used to it.  I didn’t even know what to call some of them until I learned their Elvish names.”  They walked outside, where Sam looked around in awe.  Everything – the grass, flowers, butterflies, even the vegetables growing in riotous profusion – seemed unusually sharp and clear to his eyes, as if freshly painted.  The colors were dazzling.

“Look,” Frodo urged, turning Sam around.  A fresh gasp broke from Sam’s lips as he beheld, from the high point at which the house was situated, a seemingly endless, glittering expanse of turquoise.  Dozens of boats, large and small, bobbed up and down, helmed by Elves on their way to fish, explore, or simply enjoy a day on the water.  “It’s glorious out there, Sam.  I know you don’t like boats much, but the Elves here are some of the finest mariners in all of Arda.  Of course,” Frodo grinned, “you just traveled here with the very best.  I know everyone will have heard of it by now.” 

Sam nodded vaguely, more than half convinced that he had slipped back into one of the dreams he had been experiencing recently.

“Do you remember what Galadriel told you, when she gave you the box of earth from her garden?” Frodo asked, trying to give Sam time to absorb their surroundings.  “She said we had seen her realm only in its winter.”  He stretched out a hand towards the lush foliage that surrounded them.  “This is what she left behind, and tried to recapture in Lórien.  How she must have longed for home.”

“And do you feel... at home?” Sam found his voice at last.

“I do,” Frodo replied, a smile lighting up his face.  “It happened so quickly for Bilbo, but I often wondered if I had made the right decision in coming here.  I felt trapped in time, Sam, caught between one Age and the next.  Then one day, Galadriel, Elrond, and Gandalf took me to visit a very unusual tree.  Something happened there... something settled inside me.  I realized that this land, the air, the Sea -- all of this -- had always been as much a part of me as the Shire.” 

“That’s wonderful, sir,” Sam said fervently.  Suddenly, a sparkle in the grass at his feet captured his attention.  “Oh, would you look at that!”

“This is where Gandalf shook out your clothing,” Frodo explained.  “Elrond said it’s a sort of dust from the gems his father wears.  I suppose there’s even a bit of the Silmaril scattered here.  You were covered in this stuff!”

“He certainly was,” came a voice from behind them, and both hobbits turned.

“Mr. Bilbo?” Sam ventured, unable to believe his eyes. 

“Still here, lad,” Bilbo chuckled.  His thinning curls were snow white, and he leaned heavily on a stick, but his eyes sparkled with alertness.  “Not too steady on my feet anymore, but I still get around well enough to see to the gardens now and then, and entertain visitors.  What do you think of the place?”

“It’s simply grand, sir,” Sam said honestly.  He hurried forward and grasped Bilbo’s free hand.

“I want to hear all about Eärendil, of course,” Bilbo said.  “I have an idea for a new poem about the old fellow.”

“I’ll try to remember something, Mr. Bilbo,” Sam said, hoping he would.  “I’m really sorry not to have brought you anything from home.  I never dreamed you’d... well, that you’d still be with us.”

“I suspect not!  Don’t fret, Samwise; this place is my home; I can scarcely remember any other now.  Frodo, has anyone started luncheon?”

“We were just about to prepare something,” Frodo assured him.  “Would you mind if we went back inside for a bit, Sam? I can show you the gardens later.”

“To be honest, a bit of a sit-down would be most welcome,” Sam admitted.  “My legs are a bit wobbly all of a sudden.”

“And no wonder,” Bilbo said briskly, “after two days asleep and no meals.”

“Two days?” Sam gasped.

“We think so,” Frodo said.  “It’s rather difficult to keep track of time here unless we’re paying close attention.  Samwise Gamgee, is that what I think it is?”

Sam had slipped a hand into his pocket and discovered the mallorn leaf Elladan had tucked in there.  He gazed at it admiringly.

“You should see that beautiful tree now, Mr. Frodo.  It grows more lovely every year.”

“I want to hear about everything,” Frodo said.  “Absolutely everything.”

They went back to the house, and Sam sat at the table with Bilbo as Frodo bustled about the kitchen.

“I should be helping,” Sam fretted.

“You just sit still and get your land-legs back,” Frodo said firmly.  “No one was sure how you’d react to such a quick voyage from Middle-earth.  Goodness, Elrond thought you might sleep for a month, to hear him tell it.  Here, you can slice this if you like.”  He put in front of Sam a loaf of aromatic bread and a finely-made knife, and Sam felt better for having something to do.

After sharing a luncheon of delicious vegetable soup, bread and fresh butter, apple pudding, and raspberry tarts, Bilbo wandered back to his study “for a bit of writing.”

“He’ll nap until supper,” Frodo remarked, setting out a dish of sliced peaches with cream.  “Bilbo has lived so very long… I suspect he’ll slip away from me one of these days when he feels the time is right.  But he’s been so happy, Sam...” He smiled gently, and without any pain that Sam could discern.  “What an adventure... and I feel as if we’re all still living in his tale and always will.  There’s never been anyone like him.”

“You won’t get any argument from me,” Sam agreed.  “I was purely astonished to see him.”

“Time is... stretched here, but in a good way,” Frodo tried to explain.  He looked at Sam thoughtfully.  “It’s been very good to you, Sam.”

“And to you, sir,” Sam replied.  “I think the Lady’s blessings on the Shire brought me a bit of that ‘stretching’, as you say.”

“Perhaps it did.  Gandalf thinks you may have been gifted by the Lady Yavanna, as well.”

“The Lady who sang all the plants into life at the beginning of things?” Sam asked, his eyes wide with wonder.  “She knows about hobbits?”

“She knows about you, and no mistake.”

Sam grinned broadly to hear Frodo using one of his favorite expressions.

“I’m grateful for whatever brought us together again, Mr. Frodo,” he said fervently.  “And speaking of gifts...” He stood up slowly, relieved that his legs felt a bit more steady, and excused himself for a few minutes.  When he returned to the kitchen, he put on the table a box he had retrieved from his pack.

“I brought letters from Pippin and Merry, as well as recipes and drawings from the children, but I wanted to give you this first thing,” Sam said.  He nodded towards the stack of envelopes Gandalf had left on the counter.  “Strider also sent a letter, I think.”

“He did,” Frodo nodded. “I recognize the seal on one of the envelopes.  There are several others from folks, as well, but I haven’t opened any of them yet.”

“You haven’t?” Sam asked in amazement.  “After two days?”

“There’s time,” Frodo said softly.  He looked at Sam curiously.  “Did Merry and Pippin believe I was still alive?”

“Pippin has always been certain of it,” Sam said, and Frodo was glad to hear that Sam had learned to drop the ‘Mr.’ from the names of his cousins.  “He often seems to know things others don’t, but I wasn’t absolutely sure... until Lady Arwen told me she knew you were alive, and happy.”  He hastily dashed away a few tears.

“How are Aragorn and his lady?” Frodo asked.

“They had a boy right off, a fine and handsome youngster,” Sam grinned, “then it was daughters one after t’other.”

“They’ve tried to rival you in numbers of children, I see!”

“Impossible!” Sam laughed.  “They look wonderful sir, and are very happy.  Lady Arwen’s brothers look after him.”

“I’m very glad to hear that.  I wondered where they would settle.”  Frodo gazed with interest at the box.  “What have you got there?”

“I thought and thought about what to bring you,” Sam said earnestly, “especially since I could only carry what I could fit in my pack.  I considered pipeweed, of course, but Mr. Bilbo didn’t smoke anymore once he got to Rivendell, and I thought maybe you wouldn’t be smoking either, being around all these Elves and all.”

“You thought correctly,” Frodo said.  “I do miss the smell of a good wad of leaf, but not the smoking of it.”

“So I wondered if maybe this wouldn’t be best,” Sam said.  He broke the seal and opened the box.  Inside was a quantity of rich, loamy soil.  “It’s earth from our garden, from Bag End.  I thought maybe the plants here would enjoy a bit of good Shire soil as much as the Shire enjoyed what the Lady gave us.”  He looked at Frodo anxiously.  “I made sure there weren’t any seeds or insects.  Nothing that might trouble the gardens.”

“What a wonderful idea!” Frodo exclaimed.  He brought the box to his nose and inhaled with pleasure.  “I’ll let you scatter this as you see fit, as you did with the Lady’s gift.”  Sam beamed happily that he had chosen well.

Frodo poured more tea, and his eyes shone with joy as he looked at Sam.  “It's so wonderful to see you.  I can’t wait to show you around.  The island is nearly the size of the Shire, you know.  There are flowers and trees of such beauty...  and at night, when the stars glitter on the Sea, it’s...”  He shook his head, unable to find the words.  Picking up the golden mallorn leaf that Sam had put to one side, he filled a crystal dish with water, put it on the windowsill, and set the leaf in it to catch the sun’s rays.

“Another bit of home; Galadriel will be glad of the sight, when she visits.  Are you feeling less shaky now?”

“I am, thank you.  Nothing like a good meal to settle a hobbit who’s spent time a-traveling, I always say.  I’m sure I’ll be ready to do a bit of looking around by tomorrow,” Sam said confidently.  “And tonight... can we sit outside for a bit?  I do love stars, and maybe Lord Elrond’s father will be traveling this way.  I’d like to say ‘thank you’, even if he can’t hear me.”

“Perhaps he will, Sam.  Perhaps he will.  Stranger things have happened.”

“They surely have!” Sam laughed.  “By the way, what became of your star glass?”

“Something absolutely wonderful,” Frodo laughed.  “Remember that special tree I mentioned?  We’ll take you there.  I've had this feeling, Sam... I think it’s been waiting to meet you.”

** TBC **





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