Shire Yule by Antane

Bag End, Yule, 1420

Frodo stood silently in the dark parlour, looking at the single light that was still glowing by his favorite chair. The book he had been reading was awaiting him by the table and the blanket he often wrapped himself was neatly draped over the back of the chair. Small cookies with sprinkles and cream were on a plate next to the book, in anticipation of First Yule, tempting him to sit down, eat, read and pretend the morrow would be a Yule like any other. But it wouldn’t be. It was going to his last one here. The last one he would ever spend in Middle-earth. What would it be like next year when he spent it with Bilbo in the West, beyond the Sundering Seas, the first one in over thirty years that he would not be spending with Sam and Merry, the first one without Pippin?

He heard a rustle further back in the smial and knew Sam would be coming up to him. The elder Ring-bearer quickly made it to his chair and opened his book. This would be a Yule like any other as far as he could make, for the sake of his Sam, who had enough to think about with Rose six months along with their first child. My first niece, Frodo thought, for he was certain the little bairn was a lass, and that was enough contentment for him to be able to give his beloved guardian a true smile when Sam came up to check on him. He brought his master’s night tea, chamomile with a pinch of athelas leaves. Frodo almost always slept better after such.

Frodo took the mug gratefully and sipped it slowly. “Thank you, my Sam.”

Sam thought his master looked especially thoughtful and he wondered about that. “You need anything else, Mr. Frodo?” he asked.

“I think I will enjoy a little bit of peace before Merry and Pippin arrive,” Frodo said and Sam saw his master’s tired eyes glint just a little mischievously.

“They do have a talent in making their presences felt, don’t they?”

Frodo laughed softly and Sam’s heart soared on the wings given it by that sweet sound.

“Yes, they do at that.” I will need that, Frodo thought as he sobered far too quickly. He wanted this to be a Yule to remember and he knew his cousins would make it so.

“Don’t you be staying up too late now since you know they’ll keep you up until all hours when they come.”

Frodo smiled softly at how easily Sam gave him orders and how easily he obeyed them. “I won’t, dear Sam. Just a few more pages.”

“I’ll come and check on you later then.”

Frodo smiled again and Sam smiled back. For a long time the elder hobbit just looked at his heart’s brother and that smile, then tucked it away into his heart with all the love that was already there. He had much to store up and he wondered how he could possibly do it all in the months he had left.

When Sam came back, he found Frodo had fallen asleep in the chair, the book still open and on his lap. The younger hobbit rescued it from falling and waking his master. He extinguished the light before gathering his treasure into his arms, blanket and all, and walked down the hallway to Frodo’s bedroom. He thought of the myriad times he had walked the halls, easily done even in the dark, and how his and Rose’s bairns would be soon doing so. He hoped they would give some ease to the shadow that lingered, and Sam feared was deepening, over his Frodo’s heart.

They didn’t speak of the pain. It was grieved over and fought against and during that battle, they continued on with life as normally as they could. Nightmares still caused them both to cry out at times and come running to each other. They held each other tight and murmured comforts and gave comforting caresses to curls and tear-streaked faces until the dream lost hold. Sam kept hoping the torment would grow less, that his master would come back to life. ’Twasn’t right that he should still be suffering. ’Twasn’t right at all.

With the moonlight gently streaming through the window, Sam changed his master into his nightshirt and tucked him into bed. He watched Frodo for a bit, as he softly glowed, a slice of starlight come to earth, then gave his brow a soft kiss as he always did and a whispered, “I love you, me dear. Sleep well.” He left the door ajar so he could hear if Frodo needed him in the night.

But Frodo did not stir that night. He dreamt of the music of the Sea, of waves washing against white shores, of himself standing there in the moonlight, listening to their lullaby. What indeed would the West be like? It preoccupied much of his thoughts and dreams, but he didn’t want to travel there just yet. He wanted to remain in the Shire these last few months.

* * *

The next morning was spent in much hurried preparations for the special guests that would be arriving. Much of it was done already, but there were always last minute things to do. Sam kept a watchful eye on his master that he not overexert himself but Frodo seemed to thrive on the activity, much as he had when he and Rose had busied themselves the previous month with making the smial as welcoming as could be for the little one to come. Frodo and Sam were both insistent that Rose take care of herself and do as little as possible. They delighted in “spoiling” her as she termed it.

After elevenses Rose saw Frodo looking at her with that distant, wistful look she had seen so often since his return. She took his hand. “Would you like to feel your niece kick, Mr. Frodo? She’s been plenty active today. I don’t know if she’ll wait until Rethe before she kicks her way out!”

Frodo looked up at her and then put the hand she guided over her belly. His face grew beatific as the awe filled him at feeling the babe kick against him. His light flared and Sam blinked away tears. “Oh, Rose, how wonderful for you, how very wonderful!” the elder Ring-bearer breathed. This made it all worth it. All the torment, all the hunger and thirst and exhaustion... All the emptiness and darkness he felt inside was filled with the wonder of the moment. Yes, it was all most definitely worth it, just for this little one. Frodo closed his eyes so he could more easily have his world be just that little life kicking.

He opened his eyes after a long while and then looked at Sam. “You are so lucky, my Sam. What a marvel she is.”

“Isn’t he?” Sam said with a smile, just as determined that the little one would be a lad so he could name him after Frodo.

Rosie smiled for she well knew the differing opinions her husband and his brother had. Sam wrapped all them into his wide embrace and they huddled there, the four of them. “This is going to be the best Yule ever,” he murmured, “because you are all here with me.”

Frodo held onto his Sam for a long time and doubled his efforts to be happy for him. And he was happy for his niece had made him so, and Sam, and Rose, and the anticipation of seeing Merry and Pippin. He knew there wouldn’t be any child, even any Shire, if it hadn’t been for Sam’s great sacrifices on his behalf during the Quest. His Sam deserved every bit of joy there could be found in Middle-earth and every bit of it that Frodo could give, he would.

Shortly before lunch it began to snow. Frodo watched it outside the window that overlooked the garden before he announced to Sam that he was going out into it for a little while and see if he could spot his cousins on the Road. They were expected any time. He put on his cloak and hat, wrapped the scarf around his neck and put on his mittens. He knew Sam wouldn’t let him out the door without “being properly dressed” so he presented himself for inspection before he left.

He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious in his desire to stand out in the snow and feel it under his feet and melt into his outstretched hands. Was there snow in the West? He didn’t want to take the chance there wasn’t and miss this opportunity.

Sam looked him over, then smiled and kiss his master’s brow quickly and Frodo knew he had passed inspection.

Frodo walked down the path and looked to where he hoped to see Merry and Pippin coming soon. A few moments later he was hit squarely in the back by a well placed snowball and staggered forward a couple steps before he turned.

“Happy Yule, Frodo!” Pippin crowed.

Before Frodo properly recover, he was hit again by another snowball.

“Happy Yule, Frodo!” Merry cried.

They both tackled him to the ground in a giant hug which Frodo gladly returned.

“That was sneaky of you, coming up the opposite way. Did you pass by and I didn’t even see you?”

“Well, I learned sneakiness from the best, didn’t I?” Merry told him.

“And I learned from Merry,” Pippin said.

“But I didn’t teach you all those tricks for you to use them on me!”

“When has that ever stopped us before?” Merry said and offered Frodo his hand to help him up.

Frodo accepted the help, not bothering to respond to his first brother’s last comment. “I hope you are all ready to eat, because we have a feast all ready. Sam has really outdone himself this time I think.”

“Of course we’re ready!” Pippin said. “I am famished and ran part of the way just to get here sooner. Merry could barely keep up! The snow was so slippery at times. We would have been here even sooner, but Merry started a snowball fight and hit me when my back was turned and so I had to hit him back and that’s when I really started running because who knows when we would have gotten here if we had kept going with the fight. I could have fainted from hunger on the way!”

Frodo laughed. “Well, you made it, that’s the important part.”

They all made it back up the path to the smial. At the threshold, Frodo restrained his Pippin from running straight to the kitchen. “You aren’t going to ruin all the hard work Sam has done in cleaning the floors up with your snowy feet now. Shake the snow off your cloak and breeches and stamp your feet. You too, Merry.”

They all did so and wiped their feet on the mat right inside the front door. Pippin waited half an instant to make sure Frodo thought he was clean enough, then at Frodo’s smiling nod, shot to the kitchen like an arrow from its quiver.

“Isn’t the snow beautiful?” Merry said.

“Yes, very beautiful.”

Merry heard the wistfulness and pain in his beloved cousin’s voice and grieved that it could not be overcome for long. They didn’t speak of it anymore than Frodo and Sam did, but the wounds that were carved so deep were felt by them all. It wasn’t fair that his gentle cousin and brother should be so harmed. Merry and Pippin were determined that Frodo would have a good Yule this year and they could all forget the pain for a little while.

It proved so. Lunch was delicious. Pippin restrained himself from totally hogging all the Yule nog after a couple significant glances from Sam. The snow continued to fall all day and before tea time, the three hobbits had another snowball fight and they all delighted to hear Frodo’s shrieks of delight. Frodo’s cheeks were rosy from the cold when they came back in and he was smiling brightly. His three brothers tucked away the beautiful sight into their hearts where it melted some of the pain there. Frodo did the same, looking at his treasured ones.

Supper was a feast that surprised everyone, for Sam had been hard at work while they had been playing and four grateful hobbits were very free with their words of praise which caused Sam to blush something fierce. All the corners and a bit more were filled up by the time they ended and they wondered whether they’d even be able to move. Frodo’s mouth was half-ringed by a yellow mustache from the Yule nog and that was another memory the others stored away. Afters were very late that night, but Frodo made sure he had his favorite treats and passed out more to his brothers and to Rose and an extra to her for “my little niece”. They retired very late that night.

Sam checked on his master before he went to bed himself. Merry and Pippin were settling down on either side of their cousin.

“Pippin, your feet are freezing!”

“No more than yours are!”

After a little more wrestling around for the most comfortable position and proper share of the blankets, they were all set. The two younger hobbits each put an arm over Frodo’s chest. Frodo’s head turned toward his first brother and he smiled as he fell asleep. Sam smiled and left, keeping the door just slightly ajar, for he didn’t think he would need to check again on his master that night.

* * *

The next morning, Frodo was wakened by Pippin pouncing on him. “Happy Second Yule, cousin!”

Frodo raised his arm to put over his face. “It’s too early, Pipsqueak!” he groaned.

“No, it’s not!” the tween said. “It’s almost time for first breakfast and I can smell the pancakes Sam is making and it’s snowed all night but now it’s nice and sunny and we can have another snowball fight...”

“It’s too early,” Frodo said again, interrupting the tween, but Pippin dragged him up by his arm. The rest of the elder hobbit’s body followed reluctantly.

“Where is Merry?” Frodo asked as he cautiously left his room, suspicious now that his first brother had not yet re-appeared.

Frodo looked out the front window, but didn’t see anyone. He cautiously opened the door and poked his head out. He felt a cold blast of air and snow against his cheek as the wind whipped it up. He heard a rustle above him and suddenly there was snow against the back of his neck and down his back. He cried out in shock and heard a giggle. “Happy Second Yule, Frodo!” Merry cried and slid off the roof into his cousin’s arms.

“You rascal!” Frodo said, shivering but not greatly annoyed, though he pretended to be. “First I’m attacked in my own bed by a some sort of flying hobbit and then I can’t even step outside my own door before I’m assaulted again! And all before breakfast!”

“Don’t you miss us when we aren’t around?” Merry asked. “Life must be so dull.”

“Dull is not a bad thing,” the elder hobbit argued.

“No, dull is a very bad thing. You said so yourself once, remember? When...”

“I don’t remember ever saying that when you or Pippin are around.”

“Which proves my point.”

“Then how could you know I said it?”

“Oh, I have my sources.”

“Hummph. Get in here, right now, before we both freeze to death. Your source would be most put out if I caught cold because of you.”

The day passed as joyfully as the previous had. Later in the afternoon, it began to snow again and they went out once more. Frodo put his head back and his tongue out, catching a few flakes on his tongue as they all used to do as lads. Sam watched from inside and shared the warm joy Merry and Pippin had as they looked at their treasure. Frodo shone brighter than he had since the Quest ended. Another memory was stored for safe keeping. It had been a very good Yule.

Text (c) Antane