Work Text:
The Lithedays had been wonderful - not too stifling like years past but not so cool as to forget summer’s arrival. The chalky hills of the White Downs stood beautifully against the impossibly clear blue sky, a sight Sam thought would be lost forever just a couple months prior.
With all the hard work put in by the Shirefolk during the months of rebuilding, it was as if the Ruffians had never touched even a single blade of grass in The Shire. Everyone from here to Stock never failed to thank him for saving their home, although Sam thought everyone should be directing their praises towards Frodo instead. It took everything in him to restrain himself whenever anyone would offer a half-hearted thanks or would quickly change the topic whenever Frodo was mentioned. Rosie believed everyone was being a downright fool, however Frodo appeared to be unbothered by it. In fact, he seemed to be unbothered by most things as of late (a bit too unbothered in Sam’s opinion).
Sam reeled his worries back - he could let his mind wander some other time. For now, he was walking comfortably alongside his two loves down the road that led into the Free Fair grounds. Plenty of other hobbits were making the trip as well, chattering and laughing about whatnot. It was the final day of the Fair and it already promised to be even bigger and grander than the last two days (if it were even possible).
“We simply must visit every stall today,” Frodo said, readjusting a babbling Elanor squirming in her sling.
“The whole field’s goin’ to be cramped today,” Rosie giggled. “If we’re set on visitin’ everythin’ then we best start when we get there!”
“We should stop by a food tent first,” Sam started, “It looks like Elanor is right about ready for elevenses,” he laughed as he reached over to remove Frodo’s white gem from Elanor’s mouth. Frodo laughed, clear and bright (the brightest Sam and Rosie has heard from him in a while), and ruffled her golden curls.
“She can’t help being a growing hobbit,” he cooed and Sam felt his heart leap. There was nothing quite like watching Frodo interact with Elanor: how he was always gentle with her and how she held the ability to draw out his smile no matter the situation. Rosie slipped her arm around Frodo’s waist and pecked his cheek.
“Ellie has the right idea, love. All this walkin’ from the inn to here is a lot of work,” said Rosie. Sam laughed and took Frodo’s free hand in his.
“We did all the walkin’, all Ellie did was sit here look the cutest,” Sam said.
“And that’s tiring work, Sam!” Frodo cried.
They continued down the road, laughing and talking until they reached the crest of the hill overlooking the entire Fair. It was still early in the day but the Fair was already in full swing. Colorful tents stretched out as far as their eyes could see, cheery music could be heard even from they were standing, and the smells from the endless food tents wafted tantalizingly in the cool breeze.
“Looks like we got our work cut out for us, lads,” Rosie said with a smile.
*
How so many tents and stalls could be crammed into the field, Sam couldn’t figure out. Every time he thought they have reached the end, Frodo would led them down a new endless alley that Sam swore was not there at first glance. Not that he minded in the slightest — watching Frodo point out every single attraction with such wonder in his eyes gave him all the energy he could possibly need. If Rosie and him didn’t know any better, they would’ve sworn it was Frodo’s first Free Fair instead of Elanor’s.
“I suppose he couldn’t enjoy himself as such last year,” Rosie said, burping a fussy Elanor as Sam fanned them with a makeshift paper fan. Their spot under a young sapling was welcomed relief from the high afternoon sun, but Sam reckoned it would be a few years until it would be able to give proper shade. “What with him being Deputy Mayor and all, I reckon he barely had a minute to himself.”
The Free Fair of 1420 had been a grand affair that was still the talk of The Shire and Sam believed will continue to be for many years to come. Running high from the successful rebuilding, the Shire-folk were itching to celebrate and counted down the days until the Fair. As Deputy Mayor, Frodo oversaw all the organizing — for which Sam was relieved Frodo spared from it this time around. Frodo carried out his duties as well as he could, but it was clear to Sam how straining it was for him. Sometimes, Sam would step in for him, hoping that a day of rest would keep the circles under Frodo’s eyes from darkening even further. Their combined efforts turned out to be quite successful, although they both spent the better half of the first two days of the Fair making sure everything was running as smoothly as possible. Now that Will Whitfoot was mayor again, Sam was happy with just being a regular fair-goer along with everyone else — and he supposed Frodo was as well.
After a particularly loud belch from Elanor, Sam laughed and looked out across the small clearing to Frodo, completely engrossed in a game of ring toss. Between the time they had arrived to the ring toss stall and Elanor eventually wanting a feeding, Rosie and Sam had lost track of the time, however Sam figured it was more than enough time.
“Not that I don’t believe in our Frodo,” Rosie started, “but we should get a move on. I wouldn’t want him to drop all his coin in one spot when there’s still plenty of Fair to get to!” Sam chuckled and pecked her round cheek.
“Aye, but you know how stubborn those Bagginses can be,” Sam said, standing with a languid stretch before walking over to the stall. As he got closer, he noticed Frodo went stiff in concentration, no doubt on his last ring, before he swung his arm back and tossed it.
“Oh! So close that time Mr. Baggins!” cried the game master and Frodo groaned in frustration.
“Doin’ alright, m’dear?” Sam asked. Frodo turned, his scowl immediately melting away into a bright smile.
“Sam!” Frodo cried, his sour mood perking up immediately at the sound of Sam’s voice, “Come! Help me win this necklace for Elanor!” Before Frodo could stuff his hands back into his pockets, Sam placed a gentle hand on top of Frodo’s.
“I know you’re not one for callin’ it quits so easily, but I think we should try this again some other time,” Sam said softly.
“Oh, but Sam!” Frodo said, turning back to the stall. Sam followed his gaze to the prize display, the game master pointing out the necklace with a flourish. It was a rather dainty but pretty thing: silver with a beautiful flower pendant. A blue gemstone (almost the same shade as Elanor’s eyes, he noticed) was set right in the middle of the flower and it sparkled brilliantly under the sunlight. It’s no wonder Frodo had spent so much time on the game, but Sam shook his head.
“It is a mighty pretty thing, to be sure,” Sam sighed. “But it’s best to move on.” Before Frodo could protest, Sam added, “Besides, there’s always next year!”
He meant it as a comforting phrase, something that would help curb Frodo’s rather notorious stubbornness — he hadn’t expected to see the briefest flash of hurt in Frodo’s eyes. If someone else had seen it, they would’ve chalked it up to disappointment, however, Sam knew Frodo better than anyone. This went beyond the simple game, but just what was it? But as fast as that look came and before Sam could ask, Frodo recovered and smiled (although it didn’t reach his eyes, Sam noted).
“You’re right Sam,” Frodo said, pressing their lips together for a brief kiss, “There’s always next year.”
They met back with Rosie and Elanor, and Frodo continued to lead them on through the rest of the alley with the same unbridled enthusiasm as before. However, it did nothing to quell the growing feeling of uneasiness deep inside Sam’s belly.
*
The rest of the afternoon went on without a hitch. Besides his wedding, Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. To be with the three most important hobbits to him in the whole world and enjoying themselves without fear of any shadow or ruffian felt like a dream. Before long, evening settled over the White Downs — although the Fair was far from over.
The Fair’s main field was transformed into a great party field and no hobbit in all the four Farthings would be caught dead skipping out on the Free Fair’s main event. Nothing could compare to Bilbo’s 111th birthday party, although Sam believed this came rather close. Hundreds of lanterns were strung above the field, twinkling softly above the sea of hobbits. Multiple stages with bands of all types and sizes were spread about the field, even makeshift ones thrown together at the very last minute — most likely by random fair-goers wanting to scratch their musical itch. There was not a single hobbit in that field that stood idle, whether they were dancing, running about between the crowds, or digging into the endless stream of food and ale, the field was completely overrun with activity.
At first, Sam and Rosie were a bit worried when Frodo suggested attending. While the party was looking to be very promising, they wouldn’t dare risk Frodo’s comfort for the sake of their enjoyment. Ever since their return, Sam and Rosie found he wasn’t one for crowded spaces anymore. Although Frodo had enjoyed his own company before setting off, they found he would much rather be on his own if it meant avoiding being lost among a crowd.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be okay, really!” Frodo had reassured them as they made their way to the field.
Sure enough, he was right. Despite all the commotion around them, Frodo fared a lot better than what Sam and Rosie had anticipated. He cleared out his food with such gusto (even filled out the corners, something Sam hadn’t seen him do in a while), cheered and clapped along to the rhythm of the band’s music, and he even eagerly sang along to babbling Elanor, bouncing her on his knee.
It was a small step to be sure, but Sam felt proud for him all the same. These were small gains now, but they’ll pile up in time and at long last, Frodo would finally-
“There’s always next year.”
The creeping anxiety came crashing back like a landslide. The image of Frodo at the ring toss booth flashed in Sam’s mind and his thoughts began to reel. Just what did he mean by that? Was Sam imagining him looking so defeated or was that his mind playing tricks on him? But Frodo looked so happy before, was it something Sam said? Of course there’s always next year, the Free Faire will come back again and he can play as many games as he wants.
Because, there’s always next year, right?
Right?
“-am, come on!”
He didn’t notice getting pulled out of his seat, the hand placed on his hip, the deafening cheers from the dancers, or the music starting back up again.
“Are you alright?”
Sam blinked. Oh, he was moving and Frodo looked concerned. He hid his thoughts the best he could under a small smile, “Just a bit winded is all.”
Frodo seemed to buy it, or at the very least decided against pressing on it any further — the line between his brows smoothing out, “Well, let’s hope you’re not too winded for this!”
And with a twirl, Frodo passed him off to a new dance partner. Sam staggered but quickly fell in step, much to the amusement of his new partner. He tried to look back to where Frodo was, but was lost in the sea of dancing hobbits. It wasn’t long before he was whisked away again, and Sam quickly lost count of the rounds he made around the dance floor. Before long, he was twirled off again and into familiar soft arms.
“Fancy seeing you here, Sam!” Rosie laughed, twirling them closer to the center of the dance floor. Elanor cooed happily, secured snuggly in Rosie’s sling and delighted to see her father once more. Before he could get any word out, Rosie leaned in to his ear.
“Isn’t he a sight?” she asked. He must have looked confused, but Rosie simply giggled nodded towards the center of the dance floor.
Sam was already short of breath on account of all the dancing and spinning, but the sight completely stole whatever was left. Frodo was right in the center of the dancing mob, twirling and dancing around with whoever caught his arm. His thin cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright and laughing brightly. It had been years since he last saw Frodo like this, and if he didn’t know any better, Sam would’ve swore they were back at Bilbo’s 111th birthday party (how many years has it been since then?). To see him enjoy The Shire after everything he had gone through — Sam would’ve given anything to stay in this moment forever, to watch Frodo be truly alive.
(Oh, he had to be getting better, right?)
“Sam?”
His trance was broken, and Sam was drawn back to Rosie. Her eyes glistened under the lights with unshed tears and she raised her hand to his cheek. He didn’t even notice when he started to cry, and Sam covered her hand in his. Her small smile started to grow wider, her tears falling freely down her round cheeks and she started to laugh.
Sam blinked but slowly, his slow chuckle grew into a full laugh. What a sight they must have been, standing there laughing among the moving crowd but neither of them cared (maybe some of that Baggins Madness was starting to finally rub off of them). Overwhelmed with joy, Sam pulled Rosie in closer and guided them back into step, their laughter lost among the crowd.
*
When it grew late and the party finally dwindled down, they made the journey back to The Bird and Baby Inn. Sam was rather thankful Frodo decided to spend the extra coin to pick one of the more secluded rooms — many of the faire-goers decided to make the inn the afterparty spot and while that was all fine and good, they weren’t the ones driving a cart back to Hobbiton in the morning. At his insistence, Frodo decided to take the room next door to Sam and Rosie’s and after exchanging their goodnights, he went inside his room, closing the door behind him.
They did the same, settling a sleeping Elanor into the crib before they readied themselves for bed. Nothing could be better than the feather-soft bed they shared in Bag End but after the long day, it came rather close. They climbed in, Sam settling into Rosie’s arms and they both sighed contentedly. Sleep started to pull him under quick until Rosie pulled him in closer.
“You seemed a bit lost earlier,” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“During the party,” Rosie began, “If Frodo hadn’t dragged you out, you would’ve stayed glued to the seat.” He felt her hand slowly rub his back. “What’s wrong, m’dear?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t you play that game with me, Sam Gamgee. I can tell when something is botherin’ you from a mile away, it’s no use,” Rosie chided.
Sam knew she was right, but he hesitated. “I’m probably workin’ myself up for nothing,” he replied softly.
“It’s not nothin’ if it got you all dazed like that,” Rosie adjusted herself to meet Sam’s face. “Please Sam, I want to help you,” she said, her eyes searching his pleadingly.
“Well,” he began, “Remember when I went to fetch Frodo from that ring toss tent?” Rosie nodded.
“I told him that he could try again next year, and he looked,” The image of Frodo flashed in his mind, “so sad.”
“He said he was set on winning that prize for Ellie after we got goin’,” Rosie reasoned.
“But m’dear,” Sam answered, “It wasn’t just the prize, I just know it wasn’t. You should’ve seen him, he looked as if I had just stomped all over a mushroom garden right in front of him.” He sighed before he continued on.
“I got to thinkin’ — maybe there’s something wrong, but he’s not tellin’ us. But then, seeing him at the party…” Sam snuggled in closer into the crook of Rosie’s neck. She pulled him in closer, planting a kiss to the top of head.
“I’ve been worried about him,” Sam murmured into her skin. “I haven’t been around much on account of all the replantin’ and what not but, on the anniversary of that day, I felt all antsy, if you get my meanin’” Sam sighed, tightening his arm’s around Rosie’s waist, “I thought he would be like how I found him in the study in October, but he was all smiles when I came back.” Rosie was silent for a while before she sighed.
“He told me he was going out for a walk that day,” she answered, carding her fingers through Sam’s curls, “He had his pack on and I knew how fond Mr. Bilbo was about camping out under the stars so I didn’t think much about it,” She rested her chin on the top of Sam’s head, “With Elanor so close then, I can’t say I was keeping so close a watch on him, Sam-dear.”
“Nay,” Sam said, looking up and kissing her lips, “I’m not blamin’ you or nothin’, love. I guess what I’m tryin’ figure out why I feel so jumbled about all this,” Sam rested back into the crook of Rosie’s neck, “I haven’t seen him this happy since we left, but…” he whispered.
Rosie readjusted herself so she was at eye-level with Sam, “He’s been spendin’ a lot more time outside lately, even playin’ with Elanor more. Seein’ him laughin’ and dancin’ around today made me so happy Sam, I think I could’ve watered the whole field I was cryin’ that much,’ She huffed out a quiet laugh and placed her hand upon Sam’s cheek, her thumb brushing slowly against the freckled skin. “Maybe his hurts are startin’ to heal.”
“You think so?” Sam asked.
“I’ll tell no lie, I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand everything you two faced,” Rosie started, “But I’d like to think things are startin’ to get better. Perhaps Frodo is like a wilting flower. Sure, he’s seen better days, but nothin’ like some tender, love and care from us to help him bloom again, right?”
In Sam’s gardener mind, it made sense. Frodo had said once on the journey It made him feel as if he was hollowed out and withered — but Sam hoped he would heal with time. Perhaps like some of the seedlings he keeps in the mud shed, some special love and care will help him heal. With everything they gone through, saving The Shire but not being able to enjoy it would be too cruel a fate.
“You’re right dear,” Sam said, kissing her hand on his cheek, “We spent so long out there holdin’ our breaths and waitin’ for the worst, it’s not so easy to let go of it. But we saved The Shire, and we’ll help him enjoy it again,” he settled back into Rosie’s arms and breathed deep.
“He did so much for all of us Rosie,” Sam whispered.
“I know,” Rosie replied, “And now it’s time we do everythin’ we can for him, hmm?”
*
In the next room, Frodo laid in his bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sleep eluded him — but it often did these days. After the day he had, Frodo hoped he would at least drift into a light slumber. He knew how much Sam and Rosie worried about his fatigue, and it pained him to see how much of their worry was split between him and Elanor.
But now was not the time, and he closed his eyes. Maybe if he thought about today, it’ll help ease his mind a bit, he thought. The Faire, Elanor’s shrieks of joy, Rosie’s smile, Sam’s arms around him-
The roar of the Sea and the seagull’s cries snapped Frodo out of his little trance.
So loud, so very loud.
He covered his ears and buried his head into the pillow. Frodo felt like the cries were mocking him, reminding him of what is to come. But there was no other way, and the best he could do now was to enjoy what little time he had left before September arrived.
Frodo felt tears well in his eyes. Oh, and he did have fun today, perhaps the most happiest he felt in such a long time.
But it wasn’t enough.
He rolled to his side and curled in, hugging his legs close. At the very least, his memories from today would make him feel less lonely in the Blessed Realm.