The Lord of the Rings: The Banshee Queen

Chapter 29

Nine Months Later
Sam walked out of our room, dabbing sweat off his forehead and inhaled deeply.
"Mr. Frodo, she wants to see you before she has to push."
Springing up from my chair, I sprinted to the bedroom to see Dawn, her face dripping glassy droplets of sweat and pallid, her legs spread apart by Rosie and the birthing cloth underneath her bloody.
Trembling, she slowly raised herself from the pillows and held her arms out for me.
"Frodo, darling!" she cried.
"I wanted to see your face before our child arrives."
Caressing her face, I held her shaking hand and kissed it.
"How is she?" I asked Rosie.
"The head is right there. She needs to push now."
Gasping, Dawn kissed me and wept, "I hope the baby looks like you."
My hand slipping from hers, Sam escorted me out the room and went back inside to assist his wife.
Then the screams began.
Dawn sobbed as Sam consoled her and told her to keep pushing.
"You're doing wonderful, Miss Dawn!" he praised.
I wanted to go back in there when Merry tugged on my arm.
"Frodo, let's go outside."
I followed him and Pippin and we sat on the bench, the both of them smoking Longbottom.
Patting my back, Merry asks, "Excited to be a dad?"
"Yes and I'm very nervous. What if I fail as one? This is my first child," I admitted.
"Don't worry about it!" Pippin reassured.
"Sam is an expert at being one. Ask him anything and he'd gladly help you and Dawn if you have any trouble."
They were right.
Sam would have good advice for us.
After the previous journey, I deemed myself unworthy of bearing a child.
How could I be a good father?
I often wake up from horrible nightmares and the child would grow up having a mad father; one with nine fingers and wounds that cannot heal and a mother who was once the daughter of a power-hungry Banshee who longed to demolish Middle-earth.
Though in all honesty, the second I saw Dawn for the first time, I wanted to be with her and even Bilbo begged me to marry her.
It looks like his wish came true and he never got to see it.
The door opened and Sam stuck his head out, his green eyes shining and grinning.
"Mr. Frodo, she's arrived," he said, winking, then motioned to us to come inside.
She?
We ran inside and when I came to our bedroom, Rosie was tending to my wife as she cradled a wriggling bundle of yellow fabric to her bosom, her face exhausted yet joyful.
"It's a girl," she quietly announced.
A girl...my daughter was born and my heart swelled.
"Congratulations, Frodo!" Merry and Pippin exclaimed.
Beaming, I asked to hold my daughter.
Dawn handed our child to Rosie then she gently placed the baby in my arms.
Her tiny wrinkled face was unreal; I brought this innocent being into existence and I was proud to call her a Baggins.
I created her and I sniffed back my tears.
"Hello, little one," I whispered. "Welcome to our family."
"So, what should you two call her? She can't be known as Baby Dawn," said Pippin.
A name would be difficult to choose.
Dawn and I didn't plan that out during her pregnancy.
"I say 'Primula' oughta be a good name; another Primula would be good," suggested Merry.
That was the name of my mother; it was a lovely name, but I asked Dawn what her opinion was.
"What about...'Summer'? I was born in that season and I always thought it would make for a wonderful name," she replied.
Everyone looked at me, waiting for my response.
Smiling, I rocked the baby gently.
"Summer is perfect."
They all cheered as Sam helped Dawn out of bed, her nightgown soaked in blood and sweat.
"I'll treat Miss Dawn to a bath. Take all the time in the world with your baby, Mr. Frodo."
I thanked him and sat in my chair, adoring the sleeping newborn.
"Hello, Summer Baggins. I'm your father."

Sam and Rosie stayed with us for a few days to help us get adjusted to the new addition in the Baggins family.
I watched Elanor clumsily paint as I held her brother, her legs kicking back and forth in the air.
"What a lovely painting," I complimented, looking over at the messy parchment of paper, big streaks of various colors smeared all over.
"I'm gonna give it to Aunt Dawn!" she said.
I ruffled her pale golden corkscrew curls and sent her off to my wife. Holding Sam's son, I got up and sniffed the air; the pleasant smell of meat wafting through Bag End.
I went to the kitchen to see Sam cooking his famous roast beef in a honey-sweetened sauce with stuffed cabbage.
"How's little Miss Summer doing with her mum?" he asked, taking a double glance.
"I was on my way to see them actually. It smells delicious here," I said.
"You can never go wrong with this roast beef of mine. Oh, and by the by, Mr. Frodo, do you mind if we have a pipe outside after supper?"
"That's alright by me. We'll talk later."
Walking to the parlor, I heard the ceaseless rambling of Elanor and the chattering of our wives.
Rosie was knitting and Dawn was rocking back and forth, nursing Summer.
"And what are you maidens doing?"
Rosie stopped her knitting and answered, "Knitting something for your child."
She stood up from her chair and took her son.
"Go talk with your wife; you need to bond with your daughter."
She left with Elanor and Dawn and I were by ourselves with our baby.
I knelt beside the rocking chair, admiring my wife.
Since Summer's birth, Dawn has been radiating.
Our daughter pummeled her mother's breast, drinking the flowing milk she provided.
"Frodo, you won't be getting anything out of me for a while and I tend to be the one who does that to you," she joked.
"She's as beautiful as her mother," I murmured, resting my chin on the arm of the chair.
"Better leave before you get any ideas to get me with child again," she laughed.
We kissed when Sam announced, "Supper's ready!"

"Mr. Frodo, how are you a better dad than I am? I've had more experience than you!"
I shrugged and replied, "Luck?"
He chortled, "It's good to have you back."
I was glad to be home too, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to be here for long.