After Gandalf's visit, Frodo's spirits rose. The last of the dark shadows that had been cast over him were finally dispelled. He was out of bed a little longer each day, sitting out in the garden or going to his study to write.
Sam was relieved to see that Frodo was no longer fretting over his Elvish mystery, and said so; Frodo did not tell him that the problem had only been set aside until he received responses to the messages he had sent via Gandalf. Even though Sam was busy with preparations for the wedding as the day drew nearer, he continued to keep a worried eye on his charge: He called Frodo indoors if the wind was too chilly or it looked like rain, and he saw to it that Frodo did not sit up too late working. Visitors were still limited, and investigations strictly forbidden. Every afternoon between lunch and tea-time, at Sam's insistence, Frodo lay down to have a nap.
On the day before the wedding, Frodo dreamt that he stood in a stone-paved courtyard with beautiful statuary surrounding a circle of seats. It was similar to the Council Circle at Rivendell, but the circle here was much larger, and around it was a fabulous city of white stone and, beyond the city on all sides, instead of cleft hills filled with autumn trees, rose austere mountains with snow-crested peaks that seemed to touch a bright blue sky.
Inside the circle, Elves stood frozen in a tableau, poised in attitudes just like the pictures Frodo had seen in the books: black-haired Eol was about to spring forward, fury blazing from his onyx eyes; fair Aredhel stood with one hand on her husband's arm as if to stay him. King Turgon, on a raised dais above his court, glared down at Eol with an equal but icy ferocity. The boy, Maeglin, the image of his father, stood between them with his back to his parents. Around them were a number of spear-bearing guards and well-dressed courtiers, but no other ladies that Frodo could see.
Then the tableau came to life. With a cry of rage, Eol plunged forward, moving so swiftly that it was impossible for Frodo to follow; an Elf's eyes might be sharp enough to pick out what had happened, but not his. The spear flew, and Aredhel fell to the ground before he even knew what was happening. At a command from the King, the guards seized Eol; Eol shouted his wife's name as they dragged him away. Maeglin stared down at his mother with a look of surprise and horror, until Turgon took him by the arm to draw him away. A courtier knelt beside the fallen lady and tried to aid her.
When he awoke from his nap, Frodo lay drowsily wondering what this could mean. Did it mean anything at all? Sometimes dreams were simply dreams. The Lady Aredhel had appeared in his dreams more than once these past weeks, but he was no nearer to understanding than he'd been that first time.
Frodo began to be aware of how quiet Bag End was around him. Had Sam gone out? No. It was inconceivable that Sam would have gone and left him alone.
Then he thought he heard the sound of someone moving near the front of the house--a floorboard creaking under a foot, the faint rustle of cloth.
"Sam?" he called out, and lifted his head from the pillow.
No answer.
Not Sam, then. Merry and Pippin, perhaps? They were expected to arrive tonight, but they would have knocked at the door rather than come into the house and make themselves at home without waking him. And they would be making much more noise.
Rising from the bed, he went down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. As he passed the open door of the last bedroom behind the kitchen--the room he had had fixed up for Sam and Rosie to share once they were married--he caught a glimpse of a person within, stopped and turned back. It wasn't Sam, nor Merry or Pippin, but Rosie, spreading a blue-and-white quilted counterpane across the bed. A bundle of other belongings lay on the floor at her feet.
"Hullo, Rose," he said in surprise. He had not seen her since he'd been ill. "I didn't know you were here--you must have such an awful lot to do before the wedding."
"So I have," she answered, "but so does Sam. His brothers Ham and Halfred have come in and they're down at the Gaffer's. He had to go see 'em."
"Yes, of course."
"I told him I'd stay 'n' look after you while he was out. I didn't mean to wake you, Mr. Frodo. I tried to be quiet as I could. I just brought up a few things for the bedroom, so as we'd be all settled in-like after the honeymoon." She finished smoothing the quilt over the bed, then stood back to view it with approval. "There's curtains too, but I'll put 'em up later. Sam said I was to give you your tea if you got up before he came back."
They went to the kitchen, where the kettle was already steaming on the hob and Sam had left a plate of small cakes and cut sandwiches on the table, covered by a tea-towel. Rosie filled the teapot, and poured out cups for Frodo and herself.
"You're feeling better, aren't you, Mr. Frodo?" Rosie asked him as she joined him at the table. "You'll be well enough for the wedding? It'd break Sam's heart if you weren't able to stand by him tomorrow."
"Oh, I'll be there," Frodo promised. "I wouldn't miss it, even if I were still ill. Nothing could keep me away. I would've liked to hold a celebration in the Party Field for you, but I'm afraid I haven't been up to making the arrangements."
"Never you mind, Mr. Frodo," Rosie consoled him. "Mum and Dad've been wanting to see me married off from the farm since I was a wee lass, and I couldn't deny 'em that. Besides, you've done more'n enough for us--that room done up so nice, and the lovely honeymoon cottage. I never thought I'd go off for a month when I married. Only gentlefolk can do that!"
"Sam told you about the cottage?" He'd thought that Sam had wanted it to be a surprise.
"Well, he didn't mean to. He let slip about it one day when we was talking," Rosie answered. "And once he did, I couldn't rest 'til he told me everything. He says he's only seen the place at night, but it's in the midst of a garden and there's nobody around for miles."
"It is nice and secluded," said Frodo. "It started one couple on what I hope will be a happy marriage, and I hope it will do the same for you and Sam."
Rosie regarded him shyly. "I never thanked you for that, Mr. Frodo. I wouldn't be marrying Sam tomorrow if it wasn't for you."
Frodo smiled. "Oh, Sam had his part in it too."
"He wouldn't've, not if you hadn't told him he could." When Frodo tried to protest this, Rosie plunged on, "It was hard at first, me knowing that, but I wanted Sam as bad as you do, and this sharing of yours was the only way I could get him. But I'm glad now I agreed to it. The three of us get what we want most, and I expect it'll come out all right."
Sam returned while Rosie was washing up the tea-things. Frodo left them alone; he could see that Rosie wanted to speak to Sam privately. As Frodo went down the hall to his study, Sam helped Rose put up her curtains. He could hear the two talking softly.
He didn't learn what it was about until that evening, after Rosie had gone home, Merry and Pippin had arrived, and dinner had been eaten and cleared away. After dinner, his cousins went out to the Green Dragon for a half-pint or two of ale, and Frodo went to bed. He had settled in with a warm fire and a book to read, when Sam tapped on the door and came in.
"If you're feeling up for it, Frodo," he announced with a shy note of embarrassment, "Rosie says as I ought to sleep with you tonight."
Sam had been sleeping beside him every night, but Frodo understood what he was being offered especially tonight, and he grinned. "So you've come on her orders, Sam?"
"Well," Sam ducked his head, "she said it's only fair, as I'll be going away with her for a whole month and you've got just this one night before we go."
"That's very sweet and generous of her," said Frodo, sincerely touched by the gesture.
"Besides, it's the last chance you and me'll have before I get married," Sam added. "Afterwards, things'll be different."
"Yes, I suppose they will. All right then." Frodo set his book aside and sat up to take his nightshirt off.
He was unfastening his buttons, when Sam said, "No--you leave that on. It's too chilly a night for you not to have some clothes on." But he was already undressing beside the bed.
Frodo stopped and watched with a small smile as Sam's shirt, trousers, and underclothes dropped one after the other to the floor; when Sam had finished, he scooted over and held back the blankets to invite his lover into bed. "Come on."
When Sam got in beside him, Frodo was waiting with kisses. He drew Sam down to him, and at the same time wriggled to get his nightshirt up out of the way. For one last night, Sam was his, and his alone.
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