Too Long to Wait: Ellohir's Birthday
Aragorn heard the broken sobbing, though he could not quite hear where it was coming from. Ellohir! Aragorn had watched as the lad had suddenly jumped up from where he had been playing with one of his new toys and had fled the room in tears.
What could make him cry on his birthday?
“Ellohir?”
The sobbing did not stop, but it sounded as if Ellohir was desperately trying to stifle it. Aragorn found him crouched behind a large statue of Elendil. As it was late spring, Ellohir was barefoot and Aragorn was struck by how large his feet were in proportion to his body. Hobbit feet for sure!
“What is it, Ellohir? Why do you weep?” Frodo was really much better at comforting him, and Aragorn knew that the boy preferred Frodo to him. In fact, Aragorn suspected that the reason Ellohir was weeping had to do with the fact that Frodo wasn’t at the party. Aragorn had made the hobbit stay in bed that day. Frodo had been pale and weak, unable to stand for more than a few minutes at a time.
“No,” Frodo had said. “How can I miss Ellohir’s party? He will be so upset!”
“Do you wish to collapse in front of him, in front of the other little ones?”
Frodo’s face had twisted in the pained way it did when he was debating between being stubborn and listening to reason. “No,” he had said quietly. “You are right. I am not well today.”
So Aragorn had helped him into bed and made him as comfortable as possible.
“Ellohir.” Aragorn squeezed himself behind the statue and took the lad in his arms. “What is it? Why do you cry?”
The boy looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were wide and blue, exactly like Frodo’s, though Aragorn saw a few gray Numenorean flecks.
“Is Frodo…” The lad’s face twisted in pain. “Is Frodo going to die?”
Aragorn’s stomach turned cold. He really felt at a loss in conversations like this. “Why…why do you think Frodo will die?”
“I heard some…I heard some soldiers talking. They came in for cake -- remember? I heard a soldier say it would be so sad for me because I adore Frodo so and he surely won’t be alive when I’m ten. The other man said he…he wouldn’t be surprised if…if…he…died by this winter.” Ellohir choked on new sobs.
Aragorn felt a surge of rage. How dare his men speak so! He would gather them together and chastise them severely. Mixed with his rage was a deep fear that what they said was true. Frodo’s health had certainly not improved in the five years since Ellohir’s birth, and if anything, the incidents of illness seemed to be becoming more frequent.
Aragorn spoke in as gentle a voice as possible. “Frodo’s not going to die. What the men said -- it is not true at all.”
Ellohir no longer tried to suppress his tears. His voice echoed in the silent corridor. “But he looked so sick this morning. I heard him…he threw up. I remember when I threw up once. I felt so sick in my tummy! I don’t want Frodo to be sick!… I don’t want him to die!”
The boy flung himself against Aragorn and let out great, heartbreaking sobs.
“Ellohir.” Aragorn brushed the boy’s curls out of his eyes. He looked so like Aragorn had imagined Frodo had looked in his youth. The thought made him crush Ellohir to him with greater affection. “You were very special, Ellohir. By all rights, you should never have been born. It was a miracle that you were born, and yes, Frodo nearly died at that time. He was very sick for a long time. But he got better. He sometimes still gets sick, even now, but it is nothing for you to worry about.”
“I made him sick?”
“He would not have had it any other way. He loves you so much, Ellohir. Come, why don’t we forget your party for now and go see him! He’s probably rather lonely.”
Ellohir smiled widely. “Yes, let’s go see him!”
***
Frodo smiled broadly when the two came in.
“I have a visitor for you,” Aragorn said. Frodo beckoned to him. Ellohir climbed on the bed and snuggled in Frodo’s embrace.
“Oh, dear,” Frodo said. “It looks like you’ve been crying! Did you not get all you wanted for your birthday?”
“I just wanted to be with you,” Ellohir said, laying his head on Frodo’s shoulder.
“Is there room for three?” Aragorn asked, taking off his boots.
“Always,” Frodo said, patting the space next to him with his free arm. Aragorn slid under the covers and wrapped his arm around both Frodo and Ellohir, clutching his small family to him. He kissed the top of Frodo’s head, hearing Ellohir’s words “I just wanted to be with you” echo in his own mind.
Go on to next part