Frodo fled the citadel, so angry and panic-stricken that he was shaking. Sam, who was waiting on the steps down to the courtyard, looked up as Frodo emerged through the great doors and saw immediately how upset he was.
"Frodo, are you all right?" he asked anxiously as he came up to take Frodo's arm. "What did that council say to you?"
As Sam helped him down the steps, Frodo leaned closer to murmur, "Not here." There were guards all around who might overhear them and carry tales--and, for all he knew, they might still be within the range of Elvish ears. "Sam, please take me back to the house."
"Yes, of course." Sam slipped an arm around his back and, supporting Frodo as best he could, escorted him down through the gate to the level of the city below. It was evening now, and the shadows were long in the street. Their house was only a few yards beyond the gate, but to Frodo it seemed as if they would never reach it; his legs felt weak beneath him and Sam was half-carrying him by the time they finally reached the door.
They went in through the kitchen. Merry and Pippin were sitting at the table, but they were on their feet the minute Sam brought Frodo in.
"What is it?" Pippin asked as he took Frodo's elbow and helped Sam see him to the nearest chair. "Not the baby already?"
Frodo shook his head. "They're having a council at the citadel," he explained once he was calm enough to speak. "Elves and Men, and Gandalf was there too! They want to keep me at the citadel to have the baby, and they mean to take it from me! They're so afraid of what it might be--I think they would kill it, born or unborn, if they could." The eyes of the other hobbits widened with horror. "They said it was for my good. My safety!"
"They wouldn't do that," said Pippin. "Not Strider. Not Gandalf!"
"Are you sure that's what they meant?" Merry asked.
"Yes, I'm sure of it! Don't you believe me?" Frodo looked up at the others gathered around him.
"Of course we do." Merry glanced at Pippin, who nodded in agreement.
"We believe you," Sam said more decisively, and took Frodo's hand. "What're we going to do?"
"We must leave Minas Tirith," Frodo decided. "I won't stay here and let them do this!"
"But where can we go?" asked Merry. "There's no way to reach the Shire before your time. None of us knows a thing about delivering babies, especially if something goes wrong."
"That doesn't matter," Frodo insisted. "I trust you'll do whatever you can for me, if we are without aid when the time comes. I would rather that than be left at their mercy."
"If that's what you want, Frodo," Sam said, and gave Frodo's hand a comforting squeeze. "I'll go pack our things."
Merry turned to his cousin, "Pip, why don't you get our packs together, and some food for the journey?"
"And what about you?" Pippin asked back.
"I'm going to the stable to steal us some ponies. If we must fly from the city, we'd best get as far as we can tonight. We'll do that more quickly if we ride." And Merry dashed out the kitchen door.
While the other hobbits scattered on their errands, Frodo remained seated at the kitchen table until he had caught his breath and calmed down. When he was no longer trembling, he put both hands on the table to push himself up and went his bedroom, where Sam was throwing clothes and personal articles into a pack. "Can I help?"
"No, love. I'm nearly finished here." Sam buckled the straps on Frodo's pack and set it down on the chest at the foot of the bed. "I'll just be a minute getting my things ready."
Frodo watched him with a burst of affection. After the betrayals he had suffered at the citadel, how wonderful it was to know that there were people he could depend on! Sam would always stand by him, and his cousins would help him when he was most in trouble. They needed only to hear his wishes, and they would do as he asked.
"I love you," he told Sam impulsively. "I'm very glad I married you."
Sam beamed at him, and paused before heading out the door to give Frodo a kiss and quick hug. "I'm awfully glad you did too." He took Frodo by the shoulders and guided him toward one of the chairs by the hearth. "Now don't you fret. We'll see you safely away before anyone knows we're gone. Why don't you sit and rest while you can? I'll be right back."
Frodo sank into the chair while Sam went to his own nominal room down the hall. Sitting here before the fire, he remembered that first night after he'd learned he was pregnant. How fearful for the future he'd been! He'd wondered how this would all come out in the end. Whatever he'd imagined then, he had not anticipated that he'd be fleeing Minas Tirith to protect the child's life.
He shut his eyes and listened to Sam opening and slamming drawers in his room, and Pippin farther down the hall, making a clatter in the kitchen. Then, at the other end of the corridor, he heard the front door open and footsteps came down the hall--not the bare patter of hobbit-feet, but boots, softly and swiftly treading on the wooden floor. Frodo struggled to get up from his chair as Gandalf came into the room.
"I'm relieved to see you here safely," the wizard said. "I was worried for you--in the state you were in, I should not have let you go from the citadel unattended."
"I wasn't alone," Frodo retorted. "Sam brought me home. I can rely on Sam to look after me."
Gandalf sighed at this pointed rebuff. "I understand that you are very distressed by what occurred today, Frodo, and I do not blame you. It was a mistake to call you before the council, but you must see that we were acting in your best interests-"
It was then that Sam returned with his own pack. When he saw the wizard, he stopped in the doorway and stared; the pack he held in his hands dropped to the floor.
Pippin came up beside him. "Merry hasn't come back with the ponies yet-" He stopped too, gaping silently up at Gandalf.
"Are you planning to go somewhere?" Gandalf asked them.
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