Unexpected Joy

Authors Notes: #1 I don’t own any of these characters..they’re just fun to play with. #2 I make no money from writing this, just wonderful reviews (hopefully) and the satisfaction of completing something. #3 this is dedicated to my wonderful beta Breon…who planted the seeds of this story in my twisted brain…now she is doomed to sit through many hours of my babbling about it!
Please Review! It would brighten my day ever so nicely! *grins*

~~~***~~~

Music and jovial voices came from inside the gathering hall in Minas Tirith. The wedding of Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Arwen, daughter of Elrond was a truly beautiful sight, and now the festivities showed no signs of stopping. Singing and the sounds of booted feet dancing upon the stone floor could be heard throughout the entire courtyard. All the guests were enjoying themselves immensely. Every guest, save one.

Frodo Baggins left the hall, in search of fresh air, and some solitude. He had never truly liked large crowds, and his fame after the war of the ring was not entirely welcomed. The small, lone figure walked swiftly across the courtyard, overturning a small barrel and standing on it to see over the wall and look out over the city.

The happiness of the party had simply grown too much for him, and certainly did not match his own melancholy mood. Frodo crossed his arms upon the top of the wall and rested his chin upon them with a sigh. Soon he and his friends would be returning home to their normal lives. Merry and Pippin would return to their antics in the Green Dragon, and Sam to his gardening…and to Rosie Cotton.

Frodo’s heart seized painfully at the thought of Sam and Rosie. For years he had watched his gardener, his best friend. It wasn’t proper, he told himself, to have such feelings for the younger hobbit. He never thought himself better than Sam, but he knew that Sam would never think of him that way in return. The thought would never occur to the gardener.

Another heavy sigh escaped the hobbit. Yes, he would return to the Shire, but what would be waiting for him? Bilbo was gone, having left him Bag End. But the smial was far too large for just himself. Frodo had always imagined that a family should have lived there. That should be children running through the hallways, and reading stories before the large fireplace in the living room.

He sighed once more. He would never fill Bag End with children, for no hobbit lass would have him. They had always laughed and teased as he walked by. He was not built like a “proper” hobbit, being small and lean. And he was far too fair of face to be considered handsome. No, Frodo Baggins was beautiful, and no one ever let him forget that.

“Master Baggins, why are you out here all alone on such a joyous night?”

Frodo turned quickly, nearly falling from his barrel, to see Lord Elrond standing only steps away. The elf lord looked regal as always, his stately robes immaculate and his hair braided intricately. A rare smile could be seen upon his face in the dim twilight, though even the elf lord’s smile seemed somehow filled with sorrow.

“Never have I been one for parties, my lord.” Frodo sighed before continuing more quietly. “And with everyone so happy, I did not wish to bring them down.”

Elrond approached the hobbit, his smile fading as he, too, came to rest against the wall overlooking the white city. All that evening, the elf lord had put on a happy front. It was his daughters wedding, and he played the proud Ada well. Though inside, his heart was breaking. His youngest child was married now. She had given up her immortality in the name ofe, ae, and in doing so had doomed the elf lord into watching her fade away.

For so long, Elrond had been alone. His only joy in life was his children, and now, he faced losing his daughter, the pride of their people. This thought weighed heavily upon his heart. He had left the party in need of fresh air and solitude, finding that someone else had also had the same wish. Elrond knew that the quest had damaged Frodo, that the hobbit standing before him was not the same that he had treated in Rivendell so many months before.

“Then it seems, Master Baggins, that we have left under common purpose.” Elrond rested his hands upon the wall, gazing out over the city and sighed.

“My lord? If it is not too forward to ask, may I inquire as to what bothers you so?” Frodo asked quietly, brilliant blue eyes studying the elf lord.

Elrond arched a brow gracefully, glancing at Frodo before speaking. “I grow weary of solitude. My wife left these shores a great many years ago, and since I have found happiness in my children’s joy. Now they are grown, and my youngest married and made Queen. I know not where to find my happiness now, for that which gave me joy now belongs to another.”

Frodo sighed heavily, turning from his vantage point overlooking the city and sitting upon the barrel. Lord Elrond’s words held more meaning to him than the elven lord knew. He glanced up at Elrond, marveling as a single tear slid slowly down the elf’s cheek, before directing his gaze back towards the gathering hall.

He watched the golden-haired hobbit through the doorway as he drank and joked with the others. He seemed happy at last. Again Frodo felt his heart clench painfully in his chest at the thought of Sam returning home, finding a wife, and resuming the life he should have led before the quest.

“I understand what you speak of, my lord.” Frodo whispered, his eyes never leaving the golden hobbit inside.

Elrond gazed down at the beautiful hobbit, truly seeing him for the first time. The soft lines of sorrow around his brilliant blue eyes, the small lithe body beneath the weskit and breeches. The elf lord watched in silent awe as soft tears slid down the hobbit’s cheeks, causing his ancient heart to break for the pain they spoke of. Elrond opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent as his companion stiffened and cried out in pain.

“Master Baggins, tell me what ails you?” Elrond asked softly, kneeling before Frodo, his healer training taking over in the situation.

Frodo’s breath came in short pained gasps, each inhale sending shooting pain through his shoulder and down his arm. He clenched his teeth, refusing to cry out again, and raised his other hand, holding his shoulder. His entire small frame shaking from the force of the sensation, as he tried desperately to cling to consciousness.

Lord Elrond needed no more information. With practiced eahe she stooped and picked up the shuddering hobbit, carrying him through the corridors silently. He knew the last thing Frodo wished was to ruin the festivities by having others worry of his falling ill. Without thinking, the elf lord carried Frodo up the stairs and into his own guest chambers, laying him gently upon the bed.

“Fear not, Frodo Baggins. You are in good hands.”