By: Dana
Summary: The life and times of two hobbits of the Shire.
Characters: Ilberic Brandybuck, Minto Burrows, (beyond other minor characters showing up, Frodo, Merry and Pippin all have their parts to play in this chapter)
Pairings: Ilberic/Minto
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slash, angst
Author's Notes: Here we are, come to the end of this story - which, I hope, is a satisfactory sort of ending (maybe even happy). I am no good at judging the worth of my own endings, always think them lame or abrupt, but I put love into the writing of this story, and I hope it shows. ♥, sophinisba. I've said it before, but I have loved writing this story and working with these characters and I don't want to say good-bye to them anytime soon. (I wanted to leave a number of things unanswered, anyhow, which should make coming back easier than not.)
All my thanks to dreamflower02 for the beta.
I feel like adding that this is the longest thing I have ever written and completed on my own.
Series Index: In a Sunless Year.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

     SR 1419

     Foreyule

Celandine said, at some point, less than a month later when it was closer to Yule than not, but when things still didn't quite feel complete, that she hadn't ever known that Mosco had been taken, too. Ilberic wondered at what Moro told her, when they sat together in the dark. His sister had not admitted it, but Ilberic knew her opinion of Burrows had increased, in the last long months. And she smiled at him, not quite looking like a lovelorn lass who was pining after her own love, and took him by the hand.

'I never did say anything good about you, did I? You and Minto, that is. All I know is that... you're lucky, and I envy you that. I see how you love him, Ilb – and one day, I want the same.'

He could only smile at her, shrug and then kiss her on the cheek. 'Your time will come, Cellie. Oh, believe me, I hadn't expected it... to love him how I do.' He didn't speak of it often, didn't feel as if there were many who would listen to him, go on and on about Minto. And he could go on and on about Minto.

'I hadn't ever thought you such a romantic,' she told him, grinning.

'Well, being in love can do amazing things.'

Minto told him two weeks later and into the new year, that his family would be returning to Overhill come spring. 'But I asked him, my da, if there was something I could have, with his birthday coming so soon. He heard me out, and he said it was mine almost by right, given how I've been using it. How we've both been using it.'

'Minto, what do you – '

Minto smiled at him, not quite happy but not quite sad. 'I asked him if the house at the river could be mine, and mine alone. And he told me that it could, and he hoped... well,' and he blushed faintly, grinning almost foolishly. 'He hoped we would both take good care of it. And that he knew that mum would make sure that Violet looked after us, for as long as she was able.'

'Minto – ' Ilberic could hardly speak.

'See. I've been looking for a reason, Ilberic. A reason to stay. I knew that, one day, I would come to Buckland and I'd not want to or even have any reason to leave. That day has come, at least. If you'll have me, that is.'

There it was, a tentative bit of trust, when Minto had trusted him for so long, and they had seen each other through far too much. Ilberic gathered him up in his arms, kissed him hard.

'Oh, I'll have you. 'Til we're both old and grey and neither of us are half as funny or as witty as we think we are. Oh, the river would sooner dry up and no rain would fall again, Minto, my Minto, before I would even think to let you go.'

And Ilberic kissed Minto once again, was delighted in the fervor of Minto's response. He hadn't meant to push Minto back, but Minto had gone and he'd kept hold of him, pulling Ilberic down. They kissed, and kissed more, and then they sought to touch each other, tentative at first but then growing bold. And Ilberic had never cried at such joy, but he did this time, and then he laughed at himself and Minto laughed at well, and Ilberic leaned a damp cheek against another cheek that was wet with tears.

Minto called him his beloved, and all was well in the world, and they kissed more, after that.

     SR 1420

     Astron

Minto thought about it, at times, how Frodo had not been at Brandy Hall the Yule before. The celebration had been greater than he had thought, and there had been more food on the table than there's been in months and months. Ilberic had danced with him, and kissed him until they both felt foolish and giddy. And he laughed, and smiled, and he wondered if Ilberic wondered after Frodo, and why he wasn't there.

But Merry and Pippin were there, telling stories of far-off places, and even if Ilberic didn't speak of Frodo (in truth, hadn't seen him once, since the return), Merry and Pippin spoke of him with real love in their voices.

Still, the Bucklanders were more interested in hearing of how Merry and Pippin had made themselves into heroes, the heroes of the Shire. Captains Meriadoc and Peregrin, and they smiled at that though Minto thought there was some sadness in their eyes, something he almost thought that he should know. But Merry and Pippin went on, told their stories, sang and joked as though, now that the world had not ended, that was all that was meant and all that needed to be.

But if someone else had seen them, had seen how their smiles could be sad, most especially when they spoke of Frodo (and how Merry was frustrated, it seemed, that the hobbits did not want to understand), no one else said a thing. Minto kept that close, did not tell Ilberic, even though he could have. It didn't seem right, Minto thought. It was the sort of thing to be held close.

Some things happened like that, and you didn't let them out. It had been a year, almost to the day, since Mosco had went to the Master and spoken out, at last, against Folcard and Faro Bracegirdle, since Minto never had been able to. They were rounded up in the winter, having been hiding in the south of the Southfarthing. And they were brought to Buckland, but only for a short while, to see to their trial. He was there, Ilberic and Mosco too, when they were found guilty of collaborating with the Men who had invaded the Shire, when Saradoc banned the brothers from the whole of Buckland. And Pippin was there, in his fancy foreign gear and looking rather grim, as a representative of the Thain. 'This,' he said, presenting a document that bore Thain Paladin's seal, 'banishes you from the whole of the Shire.'

It was spring now, the start of Astron, and Merry and Pippin had been in an out of Buckland through the winter and doing the same in the spring. Minto wrote to his family often, and he got more letters than he could handle, at times, in return. Moro wrote the most, and often spoke of Celandine. But he wrote to Celandine on his own, as well.

Mosco didn't write much at all, but he did write Minto, and Minto felt that he told him too much. But he thought he understood both his brothers stay in captivity, worse, and wouldn't say that Mosco had suffered the worse of it, as they had both suffered.

It was all right and well. The Shire went on as it should.

And it was spring now, the start of Astron, and Minto told Ilberic it was well enough time for them to take a trip to Overhill, just the two of them. So they did, sending word ahead and locking the house up behind them, riding out on their ponies and not speaking much, not at first.

They took to the Ferry, and then went up the old Stock Road, and in time, Ilberic starting singing, at least to pass the time.

It wasn't a surprise, then, when they found themselves at Hobbiton, instead. But that was just a step away from Overhill, really. 'We oughtn't visit, not unannounced,' Ilberic said.

'It's Frodo,' Minto said in return. 'He'll have us, I'm sure.'

And Frodo did seem surprised, and there were shadows in his eyes but he smiled, and he welcomed them both in. Ilberic looked at Frodo, seemed transfixed. Minto took him by the hand, and Ilberic shook his head, blinked, then looked at Minto.

And Frodo said, 'You'll be wanting tea.'

'Let me tend to that,' Ilberic said, and he left them together in the parlour, went off to the kitchen on his own. He hadn't given Frodo a chance to speak up against that, and Frodo was left alone. Minto looked at him, looked at how the year had treated him, how he was not the hobbit he remembered. Merry and Pippin had changed, and they had been frustrated at the Bucklanders, for reasons Minto couldn't quite see. But now he did see, and he looked at Frodo, from the white jewel that hung about his neck to the way he guarded his right hand.

'It has been a long time,' he said, when he couldn't think of anything else.

Frodo smiled, but that seemed tired, too, and there were lines at the corners of his eyes. 'It has been. Now, why don't you have yourself a seat, and I'll do the same, and we can wait on that tea – '

Minto felt it all well up and couldn't keep hold of it, and he blurted it all out before he could even think. 'You went away and if you hadn't – maybe this all wouldn't have happened. Maybe my brothers wouldn't have been held captive all those months, and they wouldn't have been – tortured. There wouldn't have been any fighting and Lotho wouldn't have grown too big for his breeches. Maybe – '

He'd been shouting, but a look from Frodo, and he stopped. Frodo, who looked too kind, for having been shouted at, Minto stopped, cold, and his hands fell at his sides, left without any fight. Minto shook, felt that he might cry. He wanted to be angry at Frodo, for taking Merry and Pippin and Sam away, for not having been there when things had been so wrong. But he knew that he could never understand, what Frodo himself had seen. And he wanted to, and he wanted to say that he was sorry, but his tongue would not quite work, and he felt so young, so young and very foolish.

'I just – '

'But isn't that all it is? One more maybe? We can't know, Minto – there's no way for us to look back and know how it all would have happened. Perhaps it would have been better. But maybe – maybe – it all would have been worse. I had hoped...' Frodo's voice was too kindly, and Frodo was too good. Minto looked at him, and felt himself nod.

'I just... I want them to look at me, Frodo. Look at me, without all that blame in their eyes.' The months had been long, and it had been too much to bear. No matter how happy he had seemed, there had been that doubt, that regret. Knowing that his brothers hated him, and not being able to bear it anymore.

'Oh, Minto.' Frodo sighed. Minto stood there, rooted to the ground. Didn't move, not even when Frodo's arms went around him, held him tight. 'You think they hate you, that they blame you for what happened. And did you think that if you had joined them, as you said you might have that they would be the ones feeling all the blame? That they hadn't been able to keep you safe? And Mosco... maybe that's what he feels, already. You haven't kept yourself very safe.'

'Frodo – '

'But I think, most of all, is that you need to forgive yourself. There can be no healing, until...' His words trailed off, into nothingness, and he turned his sad smile onto Minto. 'Surely, you understand.'

He thought he did and, in a flash of wonder, he questioned if Frodo really did.

And Frodo had moved close, and at that moment, he gathered Minto up in his arms, and hugged him tight. Minto was startled, not just at the embrace, but that there was so much strength in Frodo's arms. He held on, and Minto wound his arms about Frodo's waist, bent his head and closed his eyes. Minto held on, carefully, almost from the fear that Frodo might break.

He didn't say he was sorry, and he had wanted to. He held on, and Ilberic came to the parlour, with the tea, and hesitation in his eyes. Frodo drew away from Minto, then, looked at him and smiled.

'Now, then. Let's have that tea.'

     SR 1421

     Winterfilth

The day had dawned cool and clear, but as the hours went on, grey clouds drifted into view, obscured the autumn sky. There was rain, but only a bit, and that faded into nothingness before afternoon had come. Ilberic woke early, and wandered through the halls of the house. Minto's house. No, their house. He wasn't quite of age, but he felt far older than he should. Minto joined him, before the rain had quit, and sat beside him on the sofa in the parlour. Ilberic didn't think that good enough, and kissed Minto on the cheek and then drew him up onto his lap.

'You'll spoil me.'

'I don't think that's possible,' Ilberic said. They kissed, but then Minto rested his head against Ilberic's shoulder, and they sat there together, perhaps for hours. The day was dreary, grey, and the sun was unable to break through the clouds until late in the day. By then, they had had their elevenses and their luncheon, and they'd even had late tea. Ilberic didn't think of it, not for a while, but they hardly spoke. They touched, hands brushing, and he felt that there was a lot that he should say, but he hadn't the words the say it. Still, Minto seemed to understand him, kissed him in the kitchen, kissed him in the hallway, kissed him all the way back to their room.

It was, well, comfortable, and Ilberic didn't think he wanted anything more than that, right now. They took their time, undressing and then tangling on the bed. And even that was slow and good. Minto quite breathlessly gave himself to Ilberic, and that without saying a thing. Sometime after, hot and sated but still feeling quite out of sorts, they wound around each other on the bed, holding on tight.

The next day was as grey and dreary as the one before, and Ilberic wondered if they might perhaps make it to the Hall. Violet, who did not come and check on them and the upkeep of the house each day of the week, only coming on Monday and then on Mersday, was there early in the morning, it being Monday. She chattered about nothing and smiled at them both, and she was gone again like a dream, before the grey had faded from the sky.

But it was three days after that, then there was a knock at the door. Ilberic went to it at first, and seeing it was Merry and Pippin. He welcomed them in, but Merry shook his head.

'There's no time for that, Ilb. We'll not be long,' Merry said, and Ilberic couldn't tell what Merry's expression said, only that there was guarded grief. 'We'll do no more than darken your doorstep for a while – ' still, he smiled at that. 'You have done quite well for yourself, cousin. I hadn't thought it possible.'

Ilberic smiled in returned, and bid them enter once again but they would not. 'Really,' Pippin said. 'We'll not be long. But there's something that I think Frodo would have wanted you to know, knowing – ' He only grinned, and shrugged his shoulders. 'You might want to call for Minto, Ilberic. He'll want to hear this, too.'

Ilberic nodded, and did, and Minto joined them all, them all standing at the door, two of them in and two of them out. Then Pippin looked at Merry, touched his right arm lightly. 'Go on, Merry-lad. This is yours, only yours, to say.'

'He's gone,' Merry said, and his voice was tight, low, and the breeze blustered his faded curls. 'Gone from the Shire, and he won't be coming back.' Ilberic nodded, felt that his heart might pop. 'We are not the only ones, us and dear Sam, who will grieve for his going, though I guess there are still those who will be glad, to know he's gone. But Frodo – '

Ilberic nodded, again. Minto was holding onto his hand. 'He said something to me, once,' Minto said, but then he shook his head. 'It all seems silly, now, for as angry as I'd been. He carried something with him, something he couldn't quite let go of, though the physical – it – was gone. But he could not let it go, and he could not forgive himself, either. He told me... well... he meant to tell me, I think, that there could be no healing, not until you could forgive himself. If he's gone now, well, maybe that's what he's after. And I think – '

'Minto, you really are saying too much.'

But Merry and Pippin, as strange as it sounded, looked grateful. 'Well, it's good that someone does understand,' Merry said, with an honest smile. He hugged them both, and then told Pippin that they should be on their way, that they would want to get to Crickhollow before it rained again. They hadn't come in further than the front step, and they left them there the same, Merry and Pippin standing close at hand as they went to their ponies, but with Ilberic and Minto standing and watching them as they left, standing hand in hand.