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Greenleaf & Imladris 27 - At the End of the Day	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 1602 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1-At the End of the Day
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Title: Greenleaf & Imladris 27 - At the End of the Day

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairings: Elrohir/Legolas, Elladan/OFC (Nimeithel)

Rating: PG

Summary: Samwise Gamgee learns that wishes can come true even for an old hobbit.

Disclaimer: I write for the sheer love of it. Everything else belongs to that wizard of a storyteller, JRR Tolkien.

Interlude: At the End of the Day

Hobbiton, The Shire, July, S.R. 1482 (FA 62)

Samwise Gamgee laid a delicate posy of freshly cut flowers upon his dear wife’s grave. He had visited his Rosie thrice weekly at the very least since she passed away on Mid-year’s Day. It was a visit he looked forward to and dreaded at the same time. He was very lonely.

All his children were grown and married, most raising families of their own. None lived with him at Bag End though all knew he would eventually leave it to his eldest son, Frodo Gardner. It was fitting somehow that Bag End would know a master named Frodo once more even if his last name wasn’t Baggins.

Sam didn’t mind living alone. Not really. His children and grandchildren visited him nearly every day and he had very friendly neighbors, rather nosy if you asked him. No, he didn’t mind living alone. Only problem was, he was getting on.

It was no longer a simple matter to trot over and visit any of his many friends or make the short trek to The Green Dragon over at Bywater for his customary half-pint of beer. And he could no longer work in his garden as much as he used to. Aching joints and stiff muscles had taken their toll on the doughty gardener and seven-times mayor of the Shire.

He sighed repeatedly as he slowly made his way home. Life had been good to him, he had to admit. Very good indeed. But he could not dispel the feeling that there was something missing…

As he entered Bag End, he realized something was amiss. Had he left all these lamps burning? No, of course not. Then who—? A sudden rustle behind startled him and he whirled as fast as his recalcitrant legs allowed him.

“Who – who’s there?” he demanded with just a hint of a quaver in his voice.

A tall, slender figure stepped out of the shadows into the light. Pale golden hair, bright sapphire eyes, the green and brown garb of an Elf of Greenwood – all these impressions hit him in one breathless instant.

“Hello, Sam,” the Elf said with a smile.

Sam stared at the stately vision before him, pop-eyed and gaping. And then he gasped with understandable shock. “Glory be! Legolas!”

“Aye, Sam,” the woodland prince grinned. “And it’s good to see you, too.”

The hobbit blushed deeply at the gentle reminder that he had not properly greeted his old friend. And then embarrassment gave way to delight and he flung his arms around the archer’s waist in fervent welcome. Chuckling, Legolas hugged him back.

“Legolas!” he said again. “I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been – what? – forty years since I last saw you when you bound yourself to Elrond’s son. Elrohir, am I right?”

"'Tis good of you to remember me, Master Samwise,” a deep voice said.

Sam glanced back in time to see two men of such similar features and form that, after he realized who they were, it took him a while to figure out which was which.

“Bless me, it’s Lord Elrohir!” the hobbit cried. “And Lord Elladan!”

He shuffled towards them, a big smile creasing his face. Each twin drew him into a warm, affectionate embrace.

“But what are you all doing here?” Sam asked curiously. “It isn’t exactly a day’s walk from Rivendell to Hobbiton.”

“We came to visit you, my old friend,” Legolas said gently. “We heard of Mistress Rose’s passing and thought to give you comfort and company.”

The hobbit’s smile saddened a little. “It is a tad too quiet around here without my Rosie,” he admitted.

A sweet, dulcet voice called out from the kitchen. “Elladan? Has your friend come back?”

“Aye, mellind”—dear heart—“he is here,” Elladan replied.

Sam stared as a beauteous female emerged from his kitchen. His mouth dropped with an almost audible thunk as she neared him. For a moment, he thought it was Queen Arwen herself for the Elf lady was dark-haired and carried herself with regal grace. And then he saw it was not the twins’ sister. But she did look awfully familiar.

Elladan led her forward, his blue-grey eyes alight with pride. “Do you remember my wife, Sam?” he said. “I believe you met in Eryn Gael.”

Sam started then gasped. “Of course!” he exclaimed. “I thought I’d seen her before.” And then he blushed slightly at his graceless reply.

Nimeithel smiled warmly at him before addressing her husband. “Aye, we met then. But no one introduced us properly. ‘Tis no wonder Master Samwise did not recall me.”

“Then we were all remiss,” Elladan said ruefully. “I will plead distraction what with the excitement of my brother’s binding. But let me now make amends for such a deplorable oversight.” He beamed at the still wide-eyed hobbit. “Sam, this is Nimeithel, princess of the Woodland Realm of Eryn Lasgalen. Meleth nîn”—my love—“this is the legendary Samwise Gamgee without whose valor the Quest of the Ring would have been in vain.”

Sam’s face turned beet-red at the Elvenlord’s praise. It turned an even brighter crimson when Nimeithel smiled admiringly at him and said, “I am honored to meet you once more, Master Samwise. All Middle-earth owes you a great debt.”

“I-I—” Sam stuttered. “Think nothing of it!” he finally managed to say. He realized he was staring slack-jawed at the Elven princess and hastily shut his mouth. And then he did a double take. “Princess? Of Eryn Lasgalen?” he repeated. He looked at Legolas. “She wouldn’t happen to be a relation of yours, would she?”

The prince chuckled and replied, “She’s my younger sister, Sam.”

The hobbit performed another double take. “Your sister? And she married his brother?” he queried, glancing at Elrohir who nodded with amusement. “Well, I’m staggered,” Sam remarked. “You do like to keep things in the family, don’t you?”

The Elves laughed at his unwitting jest. Seeing the humor of the situation, Sam joined in as well. Then he seemed to recollect something and he slapped his forehead in dismay.

“Noodles!” he cried. “Where are my manners? Here, what would you like? Tea? Some cake? I’ve got fresh bread and cheese in the cupboard and—”

“Do not panic, Sam,” Legolas laughed. “We did not come here to have you serve us.”

“Aye, we would serve you instead,” Elrohir added. He glanced at his brother.

With a flourish, Elladan produced two bottles of wine and a small wooden keg, which he placed on a table. Sam read the words painted on the keg and disbelievingly exclaimed, “You passed by The Golden Perch at Stock!”

“‘Tis still the best beer in the Eastfarthing, I trust?” Elladan asked.

“Yes, it is,” Sam replied with a wide grin. “Some things never change, thank goodness!”

The Elves settled him in his armchair, insisting on getting him comfortable first. Nimeithel, who had returned to the kitchen, soon came back bearing a large tray laden with all sorts of delicacies. Crusty elven bread, golden Dwarf-churned cheese, beautifully cured Bree ham and an array of luscious sweets courtesy of Rivendell’s redoubtable housekeeper, Iorwen. Sam gaped anew at first sight of the mouthwatering spread.

For a while, they ate and drank and exchanged news. The woodland prince and Imladrin lords soon had Sam alternately in stitches or shock as they recounted their various adventures since they had all last been together in Ithilien. The hobbit was rendered momentarily speechless when told of Elladan’s twin sons.

“You have twins?” he echoed, looking from the proud father to the latter’s own twin brother. “And are they anything like the two of you?”

“Worse,” Elrohir quipped impishly. “‘Tis a wonder Rivendell is still standing though I would not be surprised were it to fall apart tomorrow.”

Elladan glowered at him with such indignation that Sam burst out laughing once more.

“It’s truly wonderful to see you again,” he chortled, wiping tears from his eyes. “I haven’t laughed so much in ages and that’s saying a lot for a hobbit if you get my meaning.”

Legolas leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming thoughtfully. “And what do you plan to do now, Sam?” he asked.

The hobbit considered the query seriously. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I’m too old to go gallivanting around like I used to and most of my friends are even creakier at the joints than I am. But it does get deadly dull at times. I can’t even tend to my garden properly,” he added, looking somewhat mournfully out the window at the now less than pristine garden beyond. He signed, “I guess all I can do is sit back and wait for my own time to come.”

Elrohir placed a warm comforting hand on his. “If you could have one wish, what would it be?” he softly asked.

“One wish?” The little gardener screwed up his face in thought. “Well, most of my wishes came true,“ he said. “I had the dearest wife anyone could wish for, we were blessed with a whole packet of wonderful children and the Shire is all safe and sound as I’d hoped. Truly, I have everything I could possibly want. Except…” he hesitated.

“Except?” Legolas prompted.

Sam blushed. “If I could have just one wish, I suppose it would be to see Frodo and Mr. Bilbo again,” he said. “There hasn’t been a day since they left that I haven’t missed them.” He nodded decisively. “If I could have one wish that’s what it would be.”

The Elves glanced at each other with knowing smiles. Legolas took the hobbit’s other hand in his.

“Dear Sam, how would you like to have your wish come true?” he asked.

Sam stared at him perplexed. “Very much, thank you,” he answered honestly. “Though how that could happen is beyond me.”

The Elven prince’s smile broadened. “My father is passing over sea this autumn with many of our people. He would be very happy to have you take ship with him.”

Sam was stupefied. “Take ship with him?” he echoed, unsure he’d heard right. His hearing was not what it used to be after all.

“Aye, Sam,” Elrohir confirmed the invitation. “The King sails for Valinor before September’s end. He would welcome the company of the last of the Ring-bearers.”

For a moment, Samwise Gamgee could only stare at them incredulously. Then he jumped to his feet, aches and stiff joints forgotten as strength surged through his limbs in a burst of energy.

“Me! Go to Valinor!” he cried. “And I shall see Frodo and Mr. Bilbo again! Bless you all!”

Elladan grinned. “Then we may take that as a ‘yes’?” he queried.

Sam nodded vigorously, eyes shining with joy. “Wishes do come true, don’t they?” he said happily.

“For valiant little gardeners, aye, it seems they do,” Legolas smiled.

Sam grinned back. And then he suddenly frowned and fidgeted a bit. “But do they take in old folk like me in Valinor?” he asked anxiously.

“Bilbo was not that young when he took ship with our father,” Elrohir pointed out.

“And Gandalf is not exactly spry,” Elladan added wryly.

“By golly, you’re right.” Sam brightened. “He’s a sight older than any of us.”

“Ancient,” Nimeithel giggled.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Sam admitted. “He never did tell us his age.” He winced a bit as a creaky joint made itself felt. Legolas promptly plucked him from the floor and tucked him back into the comfort of his armchair. Sam wiggled his leg gingerly.

“Do you think they – the folks in Valinor – do you think they can do anything about my aches and pains?” he asked wistfully. “It would be a pity not to be able to get around just because of weak knees.”

“Oh, I think they will be able to remedy that, Sam,” Legolas said.

“As well as your wrinkles,” Elladan added.

“Not to mention your grey hair,” Elrohir finished.

“What?” Sam was patently dubious. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You shall, my friend,” Legolas chuckled. “You shall.”

“Which? Seeing or believing?”

“Both.”

********

The Elves remained with him till the end of the month. It was a source of wonder to the denizens of Hobbiton to see such fair folk in their midst. Many surreptitiously regarded them as they moved around the Shire with Sam, the gaffers and gammers no less curious than the hobbit lads and lasses. From the fair archer to the comely twin lords to the lovely Elf lady, they were a sight to behold indeed.

The Shire folk were no less curious when the Elves made ready to depart Bag End that end of July. Their elven steeds’ surpassing magnificence only added to the mystery and allure of Sam’s enchanting guests.

Sam watched lightheartedly as Elladan lifted his wife onto one of the majestic horses. They were leaving and he would be alone once more but the promise of September’s journey outweighed any melancholy he might have felt at the present parting. He grinned as Elrohir brushed Legolas’ hand in passing before he vaulted gracefully onto his steed.

The Elf-prince and Elvenlord had not been shy around him though before the rest of Hobbiton they’d been discretion personified. He’d gotten quite used to seeing them together, arm in arm, gold and sable heads oft close together as they spoke softly and intimately to each other. What they did behind the closed door of their room he did not try to imagine. That was a bit too much to ask of any hobbit. But he did not doubt it was much the same as what Elladan shared with his Greenwood princess.

Legolas noticed his indulgent grin. The archer’s eyes twinkled merrily.

“You’re very happy with him, Legolas,” Sam observed, nodding in Elrohir’s direction.

The prince glanced fondly at the twin then looked back at his friend and smiled. “Much more than I ever thought possible, Sam,” he replied.

“I’m glad for you,” the little gardener said. “We hobbits thought you looked rather lonely during the Quest.”

“Did you now?”

“Oh, yes,” Sam nodded emphatically. “You smiled so rarely that we started counting the number of times that you did!”

Legolas chuckled. “Until autumn then, dear Sam. Look for us in the woods of the Shire.” He mounted his horse and moved to join the others.

“Until then, dear friends!” Sam responded. “Take care and don’t go looking for trouble!” he called as they rode down New Row. “We get enough of that from Merry and Pippin!”

Silvery laughter floated back to him. Ah, yes, Sam decided happily. Life had indeed been good to him.

********

On September 22, S.R. 1482, Master Samwise Gamgee rode out from Bag End. He came to the Tower Hills and was last seen by his daughter, Elanor, to whom he gave the Red Book afterwards kept by the Fairbarns.** Among them, the tradition was handed down from Elanor that Samwise passed the Towers, and went to the Grey Havens, and passed over sea, last of the Ring-bearers.***

**********

Glossary:

S.R. - Shire Reckoning

**Elanor Gamgee married Fastred Fairbarn.

***Taken from LoTR: The Return of the King, Appendix B: The Tale of the Years.

The End
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Greenleaf & Imladris 27 - At the End of the Day