Chapter Text
Autumn came late to the shire this year - the leaves were holding on to summer’s flush of life for as long as possible and the soft scent from the last of the sweet peas outside the kitchen window still made its way to Frodo’s spot by the fire in the study.
On long evenings he left the windows flung wide open, breathing in the sweetness mixed with a deep, fresh smell of earth, when Sam had been weeding the veg patch again. This only lasted until Sam himself bustled in, tutting at Frodo even as he placed a fond kiss on his forehead before closing the shutters with a bang and stoking the fire.
“You’re going to catch a chill - again - and don’t think I’ll be bringing you chicken soup and hot lemon this time, when it’s all come from your own foolishness.”
He couldn’t keep the fondness from his tone even for a moment as he tucked another blanket around Frodo in his chair and took his hand.
The bitter chills and fierce fevers that wracked Frodo’s body periodically seemed worse in autumn, and his left arm turned numb and cold to the touch from shoulder to finger-tip.
Sam tutted again and chafed the other hobbit’s hand between his own while Frodo smiled - slower and dimmer than he used to, yes, but always steadiest when directed at Sam.
“Stop fussing my dear” said Frodo fondly “I hardly think an evening stroll is going to finish me off -”
“- when the journey to Mordor and back again couldn’t.” Sam finished with him, rolling his eyes. “You know that didn’t work on me the first time, and it certainly isn’t improving with repetition -”
“- and besides,” Frodo continued triumphantly, “my husband bravely faced down all of Sauron’s armies to bring me home - I don’t think he’d let a slight chill in the Hobbiton air get in the way of that.”
“I don’t know if you heard” he continued in a rush as Sam’s shoulders began to shake with laughter “but he is a mighty warrior, bane of orcs, who fought his way past -”
His proclamation ended abruptly as Sam stopped his mouth with a kiss.
“You are incorrigible.”
But Sam couldn’t hide his smile as he helped Frodo to the kitchen and started laying bread and cheese with bowls and spoons and for the evening’s stew.
“Wait.” Frodo caught Sam’s arm. “I have something for you.”
With a secret smile that mirrored his love’s on that hot summer afternoon all those years ago, Frodo reached for Sam’s hand and brushed a kiss against the inside of his wrist, before pressing his gift into his palm.
The smell of strawberries lingered in the air. Sam’s eyes shone with tears as he met his husband's gaze.
“The last of the year’s fruit. And before you scold me for walking without you, Sam-love, I thought we could visit our caradydion together tomorrow if the weather stays fine. I was merely checking it wouldn’t be a wasted journey and that - that I remembered the way”
Frodo looked steadily at him, face lit by the dancing flames of the stove.
“I do remember, Sam.”
