Please Understand
By Talking Hawk
Author's Note: I've been thinking about writing this story ever since I saw Lord of the Rings for about the tenth (gasp) time, and I felt especially inspired to write it after reading one of Lafitafi's stories. I kind of exaggerated what Frodo sees in Galadriel's mirror, and you might find that Frodo and Sam are a bit out-of-character, but one could blame it upon the gravity of the situation. Well, enjoy and please review.
Fear has seized hold of me. I beg and plead for it to free me of its grasp, but it does not relent its attack upon me. Fear is all I know in this darkness.
I am in the Elven city of Lothlorien, a place in which I am supposed to be free of this enemy, and have just crawled beneath my covers after staring into Galadriel's mirror of water. The sequence of events ran through my mind as I tried to hide myself from Fear's penetrating eyes.
Wherever I ventured, it would find me.
In the water of that pool, I saw my friends giving me looks. The only way I could possibly describe them was to say that they were unusual. After their faces passed, I saw the beautiful Shire, my home, crumbling beneath a roaring fire. The grass burnt, changing to the sickening color of black, the trees withered away, and the water evaporated.
I could smell the fumes.
A very desert-like atmosphere emerged, making any one who had known Hobbiton before its destruction want to weep, knowing that it could never be brought back after such a terrible change.
Then I saw a snaking row - no, a line that stretched on further than one could ever imagine - of hobbits, all chained together, obediently filing into a shoddy worker's mill. Orcs watched the line moved along, whips and other various weapons in their clawed hands. To my surprise, a familiar figure appeared - Sam. My dear friend trudged along in the barren land, lowering his eyes pitifully in the beasts' presence.
Up to this point, seeing Sam's face was the most disturbing image I had seen. His eyes brimmed over with tears, watering the dry earth that he had once so loved as he walked along. His cheeks were smudged with mud, but not like the kind I would find upon him as I left Bag End to go into town on a spring morning. On those mornings, a happiness lit up his whole face, taking pleasure in his gardening and the tending of the plants - even if it did mean getting a bit dirty.
But as I saw him being driven into slavery, I knew that the dirt was from trying to escape the orcs, landing on his face in the futile effort. Tears continued to stream down his face, and the hopelessness in his eyes inferred that his heart had been torn from his chest.
The time of the hobbits had ended.
After the longest time, I forced myself to tear my eyes from his pitiful face. My heart wept with him, but I knew if I looked upon him any longer, I would die right then and there. So, cringing with the effort, I gazed upon the hobbit that walked behind him.
It was Merry.
Merry? This had come as a greater surprise than that of seeing Sam in those chains. My cousin had always been a free spirit, like those of the birds that merely had to open their wings to fly away. It was incomprehensible to me of how he could be captured.
But I suppose that was how terrible the situation was. Even the most clever and quick had been caught. The Merry I knew and loved was no exception to this dismal fate.
Ever so carefully, Merry slipped his hand inside his vest, and drew out an article of clothing. It was tattered and ripped, and though it was neatly folded, I could see the large gash that ran through its center as though a sword had cut into it. As he handed it to Sam, I recognized it as a dark green cloak.
.My cloak.
As I stared down into that wretched mirror, I saw my poor gardener carefully take the cloak into his hands, the most grievous of looks upon his face. I could see the fresh beginnings of new tears as he pressed the gift to his chest, sadly wrapping his arms about it.
My heart aching as I had watched this, I had tried to send my friend my thoughts. 'Please,' I had thought as though speaking to him, 'do not be sad. Do not weep on my behalf! You have too much pain to worry over me. Please, do not allow your tears to fall!'
The second these thoughts had passed through my mind, Sam looked up, a startled expression on his face. The tears dried, but then he glowered, clutching the clothing protectively. The picture widened, and an orc could be seen standing before him, shouting things that I could not hear.
The creature had its hand outstretched, ordering my friend to give him the trinket. When he had supposedly finished, the Gamgee shook his head furiously, his blondish curls shaking in the air as well. His mouth formed the word, "No!"
Angering, the orc held out his hand once more, giving the hobbit one last chance to comply. Sam shook his head again, turning away from him, clutching the cloak. Hand in his pocket, Merry swiftly squatted down, seizing the metal chains about my friend's ankles with his free one.
It was a key that he drew out of his pocket. Sticking it inside the lock, he twisted the metal cylinder, and all at once, the chains came undone. The two hobbits were no longer connected to one another.
"RUN!" Merry's mouth moved, and Sam complied. Despite the fact that his feet were still had a chain running from one to the other, the gardener began running from the orc he had been arguing with. The orcs further ahead in the line looked up, noticing the disturbance, and began running to the scene as well. They drew their weapons.
Sam's small hurried steps could not carry him to safety quick enough. The chains between his ankles made him cautious, making him slow down as not to trip. Before he could escape, three orcs surrounded him. Two before me, partially blocking my view, and one orc standing behind Sam.
The one behind Sam wielded an ax, and raised it high over his head. Panic taking its course through my body, I saw that as my friend tried to run between the two orcs in his path, his feet betrayed him. Still grasping the folded cloak, he fell to the ground.
'NO!' I had cried out mentally as a sob had escaped my throat. 'Get UP, Sam, GET UP! Do not just lie there!'
The ax came down.
I now fell asleep, my tears my only consolation.
* * *
A long day followed that weary slumber. I spent most of it walking about the trees of Lorien, too busy brooding to fully take in the city's magnificent beauty. During my time wandering, I had come to a decision.
I would leave the Ring behind.
It was not an easy decision to come to, but it was the best thought that came to my mind. Me carrying the Ring had brought about the image in the mirror, or so I thought. It would be best left here in this place of safety.
I would tell them tonight.
I look up. It is now afternoon. The golden light that flooded through the trees above gave me this clue. The sound of leaves crunching beneath the weight of feet came to my ears, and I peer about in fright. Was this some new foe that was seeking my life?
I sigh with relief when my timid eyes fall upon the intruder. I had been naïve to think that I was in danger in this place, for the being was none other than my friend and loyal servant, Sam. I feel a bit guilty at seeing him after what I had seen the night before, but the sight of him also made my heart happy.
He stepped forward, a concerned look upon his face. "Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"
"Why do you ask?" I ask, both hesitantly and worriedly. Was he suspicious of what I knew?
He lowers his eyes. "It's just that, well, ya went off on yer own without tellin' us, and ya didn't even come back for dinner. I can understand that ya wanted a bit of time to yer own thoughts, but I had somethin' right good prepared."
I frown guiltily, seeing how I had hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry, Sam." I say, not sure what else would be appropriate for me to voice. "It is that.well, I have had much on my mind as of late."
"I know!" he exclaimed, alarming me by coming to my own defense. "That's what I was thinkin', but then. Oh, Mr. Frodo," he said, his eyes glimmering sadly, "I've been plum worried about ya. The others may not notice it, but *I* do."
"I know, Sam," I said, tears threatening to make their presence known. All the images came flooding back to me. Sam running away, the orc, the ax. I could not contain my grief any longer, and thrust my arms about my friend's neck in an embrace. He froze, shocked by my own uncharacteristic openness.
When I felt more calmed, I drew back. I whisper, "Everything will be all right, Sam." 'I won't let anything happen to you,' I secretly promise, but do not speak aloud.
I looked at my friend's bewildered eyes. He did not understand, but knew something was wrong. Had he been a more outspoken hobbit, he would have said, "You are a strange thing, Mr. Frodo. You worry me sometimes - more so now than back in Hobbiton." But he kept his silence out of politeness.
I almost wish he had spoken those words.
"I'll see to it."
* * *
"I have an announcement to make," I said. It was now night again, and all my friends - new and old - were gathered about our campsite, finishing up the remnants of our supper. I had only nibbled on my food, for which I attracted strange glances from my cousins, who had, ever since coming to Lothlorien, received the seven square meals a day that they had been given back home in the Shire.
The Company turned to me, but did not gather around as I had been expecting. Boromir the Man came back to the site, standing in the back with his arms folded across his chest. Legolas, the only Elf in the Company, had been sitting on a rock near me, staring off, but now turned his head to me. The others gave me their attention in a similar fashion, not sensing the graveness of what I was about to say. Aragorn ceased sharpening his blade, and Merry and Pippin, who were gathered about the dying fire, peered over their shoulders at me.
Over the course of the day, I had practiced what I was about to say over and over in my mind. However, now that I stood before my friends, alone in every sense of the word, I bit my tongue. How was I to say this?
I sighed, my hands folded behind my back. I closed my eyes and thought, 'Please, Gandalf, give me the courage that you might have had if you were trying to say this. Give me the strength you once had.' I sighed again, slowly lifting my eyelids. The curious faces of the Fellowship had now altered to that of worry and concern.
It was now the time.
"I saw something last night." I decided to begin. Pippin's eyes lit up.
"Was it a duck?" he asked excitedly.
I lowered my brow, the apprehension I had been feeling changing into annoyance. "Why would I be making an announcement about seeing a duck?"
"I don't know." my younger cousin said innocently, shrugging his shoulders. "'Birds of a feather flock together'.? Oh, no, wait, wrong one." The other Company members rolled their eyes - an action I much wanted to do. However, I had to regain my focus.
"What I saw," I began once more, "was a premonition of the future - our future. I saw it before my own eyes."
"Did this come in the fashion of a dream?" Legolas inquired.
"No," I said. "Her Ladyship Galadriel showed this to me." He fell silent, and I supposed he knew what I was speaking of. He, after all, was an Elf who would have heard of this magical place his entire life. He was also most likely familiar with the Lady's powers as an Elven sorceress.
"What is it that you saw?" Merry inquired.
I sighed. Must I speak of that? "Horrible things. Things I would rather forget than carry with me to the end of my days."
"Were they.of us?" Boromir asked.
"Of this Company," I sighed, "not so much." I closed my eyes, and placed a hand to my temples. They had begun to ache from my worry, and from the lack of sleep. Oh, it hurt so much. I could hardly think, but the words came out despite this. "My home.the Shire. Oh, curse it all!" I found myself exclaiming. The Fellowship was startled by my outburst, but the anger that had begun to travel through my veins continued its course. "It all burned, like the fiery beast that brought poor Gandalf down to his death! It burned, I tell you, BURNED!"
Sam stood up worriedly, walked toward me, and made a motion to grasp my arm. I moved out of his reach, the tears welling up within my eyes both of grief and rage. "Men and lady hobbits running about, screaming as the orcs took them, Sam! They took them and chained them together like a bunch of animals!" "It's all right, Mr. Frodo, it's all right." he said soothingly, trying to inch ever nearer to me. His arms were poised and his muscles tense as though about to pounce on me like a baby calf trying to escape. A maddening desperateness swept over me as the distance between me and the tree behind me lessened.
Must get away, must get away.
"NO!" I shouted, my eyes wide. "It is not 'all right.'" As I felt my back touch the bark of the tree, I pointed a shaking finger at him. "You were among them, Sam! They ensnared you too!" The tears began falling, and Sam stopped, a confused look upon my friend's face.
"What are you talking of, Mr. Frodo?" he asked innocently as though I were speaking madness. Perhaps I was. "Who do you mean by 'they'?"
"The ORCS, you fool! The Enemy!" A sob escaped from my throat, and I covered my eyes with my arm, my shoulders beginning to shake. Grief filled my soul, not merely for my lost mentor Gandalf, but also for the overwhelming feeling of loneliness I felt. No one understood me - not even the trusted Samwise. Alone, I was. Hopelessly alone!
"You tried to run away," I sobbed. "I saw you in that cursed mirror. I saw you, and Merry undid the lock about your feet, but you tripped, a- and.and." I felt arms encircle me, and without need of trying to peer through the clouds that must have been in my eyes, I knew it was Sam. He wrapped one arm behind my shoulders, and put the other behind my head, pressing my face to his own shoulder. Oh, why could he not let me have my fit of rage? Why did he have to care so much?
"Oh, Sam." I choked, my own voice smothered by his shirt. "They, they.they killed you."
His body froze.
* * *
A couple of hours later, I was sitting on a medium-sized grey rock overlooking the beginning of the Anduin River. My arms were wrapped about my knees, and staring off at nothing in particular, I rocked back and forth. My face felt cold every time the wind blew for I had not wiped the remnants of my tears since my confession. I assumed that there would be more tears to follow.
For the second time this day, I heard footsteps behind me - bare feet trampling the fallen leaves. Staring ahead, the feet's owner said, "I talked to the others. Mr. Merry and Pippin were a bit spooked, but other than that, they seem to be all right." Sam suddenly appeared in my view, squatting next to me and gazing intently at me.
I turned my head slowly so that I was looking into his eyes. I could see a bit of happiness in them, him thinking that the worst was over with, but yet a bit of concern remaining. He still was not satisfied.
"Really?" I said, and he nodded.
"Everyone understands that you have quite a bit on yer mind, Mr. Frodo," he replied, taking a seat on his rear, facing me. "Being a ringbearer and all, of course."
I turned my eyes from his, lowering them in melancholy. "But you *don't,* Sam.none of you do." Though I could not see him, I sensed his hurt. I looked at him again, my prediction proving correct. His eyes were lowered in shame, perhaps even guilt. Guilt that he could not help me as he once was able to.
The beginnings of new tears began formulating in my throat as I said, "Oh, please understand me. I do not WANT to be the ringbearer anymore. It is too difficult." The first images of the mirror returned to me, that of my friends staring at me, then turning from me in disappointment. Pippin, Merry, Legolas, even Sam, turned away from me. In my heart, I knew that they had been doing this because I had given up. I had given up the Ring. I drove this thought from my mind. "I know you think I'm this stone mountain that cannot yield to any force imaginable, but it is simply not true." I sighed, knowing that I was hurting him with my words. I must tell him, though, I convinced myself. "Hobbits cannot take on such a great task as this. I am not fit for such a thing."
"But that's not it." he said, slowly gazing up at me again. "Now is it?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"It's because of that mirror, and what you saw in it.now isn't it?"
My heart skipped a beat, my eyes widened. He had figured me out - quicker than I had myself. He knew precisely where the root of Doubt had began growing in my heart, and was bound determined on removing it, like a weed back in Bag End.
I sighed, knowing that my deepest fears had been discovered, and forced to face the light of day. "'Tis true." I paused, then finally confessed pitifully, "I.I am fearful that what I saw might come to pass." Tears entering my eyes, I looked at him pleadingly. I leaned forward and placed my hands on his. "I do not want it to happen, Sam."
Blinking in surprise, he said solemnly, "What you saw.it was a possibility. It was what *could* happen. Was it not?"
Frowning, I recoiled and sat down once more, drawing my hands from his. Bitterly, I reply, "It was."
When I lifted my chin slightly, I found him staring sternly at me. For how long he had, I know not. He whispered, "How do you know it was what could - or would - happen if you were to give up, rather than what could - or would - happen if you continued?"
My eyes widened in surprise, taken aback. I had not thought of it that way.
"Still." I said, wanting to continue arguing, trying to explain myself to him. "I do not want what I saw to happen to you. I do not want."
"Me to die?" he offered, smiling wryly. Like an embarrassed child, I nodded. He outstretched his arms to me. Somewhat ashamed of my own insecurity, I crawled to his side, and he curled a protective arm about my shoulders. I frowned sadly, leaning my head against his shoulder.
"Has it ever entered your mind," he began, "that I might die if you give up the Ring? That everyone else will too?" I remained silent, cowering in my own self-loathing. He sensed this, and lowered his voice, as if to make the blow less harsh. "I make no guarantees, Mr. Frodo. Don't you think that I am. I just know that a lot of people are counting on you - especially the folks back home. They're why we've continued on, sir - because everyone is counting on us. Me Gaffer, Rosie, your aunts, your uncles, your other cousins, my brothers and sisters."
"I mean no offense," I interrupted, and he blinked down at me, "but it's not all those other people that I'm worried about. It's."
Knowing my thoughts, he shook his head. "One life's no more important than the next, Mr. Frodo. Ne'er you forget that neither."
"One life may not be more important than the next to the onlooker, Sam," I countered, "but not when they're your best friend." He sighed, knowing that I would never see things his way. I would never understand him, or so he thought.
"I will continue," I said, and I knew he was startled by such a plain comment. He lifted his eyebrows at me, and I wrapped my arms about him in an embrace. "I will go on for my friends, and dear Bilbo and Gandalf, but for no one else. The others - the ones who supposedly have everything depending on me - do not matter. The ones I hold dear to me are those who I will fight against the Ring for. For no one else, Sam."
He smirked, patting my back with his hand soothingly. As he turned his gaze to the image of the moon in the dark blue river, surrounded by orbs of white light, he murmured something almost inaudible to even I.
"I understand."
Second Author's Note: Frodo.and.Sam.are.not.gay.(at least in this story). o_O
Author's Note: I've been thinking about writing this story ever since I saw Lord of the Rings for about the tenth (gasp) time, and I felt especially inspired to write it after reading one of Lafitafi's stories. I kind of exaggerated what Frodo sees in Galadriel's mirror, and you might find that Frodo and Sam are a bit out-of-character, but one could blame it upon the gravity of the situation. Well, enjoy and please review.
Fear has seized hold of me. I beg and plead for it to free me of its grasp, but it does not relent its attack upon me. Fear is all I know in this darkness.
I am in the Elven city of Lothlorien, a place in which I am supposed to be free of this enemy, and have just crawled beneath my covers after staring into Galadriel's mirror of water. The sequence of events ran through my mind as I tried to hide myself from Fear's penetrating eyes.
Wherever I ventured, it would find me.
In the water of that pool, I saw my friends giving me looks. The only way I could possibly describe them was to say that they were unusual. After their faces passed, I saw the beautiful Shire, my home, crumbling beneath a roaring fire. The grass burnt, changing to the sickening color of black, the trees withered away, and the water evaporated.
I could smell the fumes.
A very desert-like atmosphere emerged, making any one who had known Hobbiton before its destruction want to weep, knowing that it could never be brought back after such a terrible change.
Then I saw a snaking row - no, a line that stretched on further than one could ever imagine - of hobbits, all chained together, obediently filing into a shoddy worker's mill. Orcs watched the line moved along, whips and other various weapons in their clawed hands. To my surprise, a familiar figure appeared - Sam. My dear friend trudged along in the barren land, lowering his eyes pitifully in the beasts' presence.
Up to this point, seeing Sam's face was the most disturbing image I had seen. His eyes brimmed over with tears, watering the dry earth that he had once so loved as he walked along. His cheeks were smudged with mud, but not like the kind I would find upon him as I left Bag End to go into town on a spring morning. On those mornings, a happiness lit up his whole face, taking pleasure in his gardening and the tending of the plants - even if it did mean getting a bit dirty.
But as I saw him being driven into slavery, I knew that the dirt was from trying to escape the orcs, landing on his face in the futile effort. Tears continued to stream down his face, and the hopelessness in his eyes inferred that his heart had been torn from his chest.
The time of the hobbits had ended.
After the longest time, I forced myself to tear my eyes from his pitiful face. My heart wept with him, but I knew if I looked upon him any longer, I would die right then and there. So, cringing with the effort, I gazed upon the hobbit that walked behind him.
It was Merry.
Merry? This had come as a greater surprise than that of seeing Sam in those chains. My cousin had always been a free spirit, like those of the birds that merely had to open their wings to fly away. It was incomprehensible to me of how he could be captured.
But I suppose that was how terrible the situation was. Even the most clever and quick had been caught. The Merry I knew and loved was no exception to this dismal fate.
Ever so carefully, Merry slipped his hand inside his vest, and drew out an article of clothing. It was tattered and ripped, and though it was neatly folded, I could see the large gash that ran through its center as though a sword had cut into it. As he handed it to Sam, I recognized it as a dark green cloak.
.My cloak.
As I stared down into that wretched mirror, I saw my poor gardener carefully take the cloak into his hands, the most grievous of looks upon his face. I could see the fresh beginnings of new tears as he pressed the gift to his chest, sadly wrapping his arms about it.
My heart aching as I had watched this, I had tried to send my friend my thoughts. 'Please,' I had thought as though speaking to him, 'do not be sad. Do not weep on my behalf! You have too much pain to worry over me. Please, do not allow your tears to fall!'
The second these thoughts had passed through my mind, Sam looked up, a startled expression on his face. The tears dried, but then he glowered, clutching the clothing protectively. The picture widened, and an orc could be seen standing before him, shouting things that I could not hear.
The creature had its hand outstretched, ordering my friend to give him the trinket. When he had supposedly finished, the Gamgee shook his head furiously, his blondish curls shaking in the air as well. His mouth formed the word, "No!"
Angering, the orc held out his hand once more, giving the hobbit one last chance to comply. Sam shook his head again, turning away from him, clutching the cloak. Hand in his pocket, Merry swiftly squatted down, seizing the metal chains about my friend's ankles with his free one.
It was a key that he drew out of his pocket. Sticking it inside the lock, he twisted the metal cylinder, and all at once, the chains came undone. The two hobbits were no longer connected to one another.
"RUN!" Merry's mouth moved, and Sam complied. Despite the fact that his feet were still had a chain running from one to the other, the gardener began running from the orc he had been arguing with. The orcs further ahead in the line looked up, noticing the disturbance, and began running to the scene as well. They drew their weapons.
Sam's small hurried steps could not carry him to safety quick enough. The chains between his ankles made him cautious, making him slow down as not to trip. Before he could escape, three orcs surrounded him. Two before me, partially blocking my view, and one orc standing behind Sam.
The one behind Sam wielded an ax, and raised it high over his head. Panic taking its course through my body, I saw that as my friend tried to run between the two orcs in his path, his feet betrayed him. Still grasping the folded cloak, he fell to the ground.
'NO!' I had cried out mentally as a sob had escaped my throat. 'Get UP, Sam, GET UP! Do not just lie there!'
The ax came down.
I now fell asleep, my tears my only consolation.
* * *
A long day followed that weary slumber. I spent most of it walking about the trees of Lorien, too busy brooding to fully take in the city's magnificent beauty. During my time wandering, I had come to a decision.
I would leave the Ring behind.
It was not an easy decision to come to, but it was the best thought that came to my mind. Me carrying the Ring had brought about the image in the mirror, or so I thought. It would be best left here in this place of safety.
I would tell them tonight.
I look up. It is now afternoon. The golden light that flooded through the trees above gave me this clue. The sound of leaves crunching beneath the weight of feet came to my ears, and I peer about in fright. Was this some new foe that was seeking my life?
I sigh with relief when my timid eyes fall upon the intruder. I had been naïve to think that I was in danger in this place, for the being was none other than my friend and loyal servant, Sam. I feel a bit guilty at seeing him after what I had seen the night before, but the sight of him also made my heart happy.
He stepped forward, a concerned look upon his face. "Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"
"Why do you ask?" I ask, both hesitantly and worriedly. Was he suspicious of what I knew?
He lowers his eyes. "It's just that, well, ya went off on yer own without tellin' us, and ya didn't even come back for dinner. I can understand that ya wanted a bit of time to yer own thoughts, but I had somethin' right good prepared."
I frown guiltily, seeing how I had hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry, Sam." I say, not sure what else would be appropriate for me to voice. "It is that.well, I have had much on my mind as of late."
"I know!" he exclaimed, alarming me by coming to my own defense. "That's what I was thinkin', but then. Oh, Mr. Frodo," he said, his eyes glimmering sadly, "I've been plum worried about ya. The others may not notice it, but *I* do."
"I know, Sam," I said, tears threatening to make their presence known. All the images came flooding back to me. Sam running away, the orc, the ax. I could not contain my grief any longer, and thrust my arms about my friend's neck in an embrace. He froze, shocked by my own uncharacteristic openness.
When I felt more calmed, I drew back. I whisper, "Everything will be all right, Sam." 'I won't let anything happen to you,' I secretly promise, but do not speak aloud.
I looked at my friend's bewildered eyes. He did not understand, but knew something was wrong. Had he been a more outspoken hobbit, he would have said, "You are a strange thing, Mr. Frodo. You worry me sometimes - more so now than back in Hobbiton." But he kept his silence out of politeness.
I almost wish he had spoken those words.
"I'll see to it."
* * *
"I have an announcement to make," I said. It was now night again, and all my friends - new and old - were gathered about our campsite, finishing up the remnants of our supper. I had only nibbled on my food, for which I attracted strange glances from my cousins, who had, ever since coming to Lothlorien, received the seven square meals a day that they had been given back home in the Shire.
The Company turned to me, but did not gather around as I had been expecting. Boromir the Man came back to the site, standing in the back with his arms folded across his chest. Legolas, the only Elf in the Company, had been sitting on a rock near me, staring off, but now turned his head to me. The others gave me their attention in a similar fashion, not sensing the graveness of what I was about to say. Aragorn ceased sharpening his blade, and Merry and Pippin, who were gathered about the dying fire, peered over their shoulders at me.
Over the course of the day, I had practiced what I was about to say over and over in my mind. However, now that I stood before my friends, alone in every sense of the word, I bit my tongue. How was I to say this?
I sighed, my hands folded behind my back. I closed my eyes and thought, 'Please, Gandalf, give me the courage that you might have had if you were trying to say this. Give me the strength you once had.' I sighed again, slowly lifting my eyelids. The curious faces of the Fellowship had now altered to that of worry and concern.
It was now the time.
"I saw something last night." I decided to begin. Pippin's eyes lit up.
"Was it a duck?" he asked excitedly.
I lowered my brow, the apprehension I had been feeling changing into annoyance. "Why would I be making an announcement about seeing a duck?"
"I don't know." my younger cousin said innocently, shrugging his shoulders. "'Birds of a feather flock together'.? Oh, no, wait, wrong one." The other Company members rolled their eyes - an action I much wanted to do. However, I had to regain my focus.
"What I saw," I began once more, "was a premonition of the future - our future. I saw it before my own eyes."
"Did this come in the fashion of a dream?" Legolas inquired.
"No," I said. "Her Ladyship Galadriel showed this to me." He fell silent, and I supposed he knew what I was speaking of. He, after all, was an Elf who would have heard of this magical place his entire life. He was also most likely familiar with the Lady's powers as an Elven sorceress.
"What is it that you saw?" Merry inquired.
I sighed. Must I speak of that? "Horrible things. Things I would rather forget than carry with me to the end of my days."
"Were they.of us?" Boromir asked.
"Of this Company," I sighed, "not so much." I closed my eyes, and placed a hand to my temples. They had begun to ache from my worry, and from the lack of sleep. Oh, it hurt so much. I could hardly think, but the words came out despite this. "My home.the Shire. Oh, curse it all!" I found myself exclaiming. The Fellowship was startled by my outburst, but the anger that had begun to travel through my veins continued its course. "It all burned, like the fiery beast that brought poor Gandalf down to his death! It burned, I tell you, BURNED!"
Sam stood up worriedly, walked toward me, and made a motion to grasp my arm. I moved out of his reach, the tears welling up within my eyes both of grief and rage. "Men and lady hobbits running about, screaming as the orcs took them, Sam! They took them and chained them together like a bunch of animals!" "It's all right, Mr. Frodo, it's all right." he said soothingly, trying to inch ever nearer to me. His arms were poised and his muscles tense as though about to pounce on me like a baby calf trying to escape. A maddening desperateness swept over me as the distance between me and the tree behind me lessened.
Must get away, must get away.
"NO!" I shouted, my eyes wide. "It is not 'all right.'" As I felt my back touch the bark of the tree, I pointed a shaking finger at him. "You were among them, Sam! They ensnared you too!" The tears began falling, and Sam stopped, a confused look upon my friend's face.
"What are you talking of, Mr. Frodo?" he asked innocently as though I were speaking madness. Perhaps I was. "Who do you mean by 'they'?"
"The ORCS, you fool! The Enemy!" A sob escaped from my throat, and I covered my eyes with my arm, my shoulders beginning to shake. Grief filled my soul, not merely for my lost mentor Gandalf, but also for the overwhelming feeling of loneliness I felt. No one understood me - not even the trusted Samwise. Alone, I was. Hopelessly alone!
"You tried to run away," I sobbed. "I saw you in that cursed mirror. I saw you, and Merry undid the lock about your feet, but you tripped, a- and.and." I felt arms encircle me, and without need of trying to peer through the clouds that must have been in my eyes, I knew it was Sam. He wrapped one arm behind my shoulders, and put the other behind my head, pressing my face to his own shoulder. Oh, why could he not let me have my fit of rage? Why did he have to care so much?
"Oh, Sam." I choked, my own voice smothered by his shirt. "They, they.they killed you."
His body froze.
* * *
A couple of hours later, I was sitting on a medium-sized grey rock overlooking the beginning of the Anduin River. My arms were wrapped about my knees, and staring off at nothing in particular, I rocked back and forth. My face felt cold every time the wind blew for I had not wiped the remnants of my tears since my confession. I assumed that there would be more tears to follow.
For the second time this day, I heard footsteps behind me - bare feet trampling the fallen leaves. Staring ahead, the feet's owner said, "I talked to the others. Mr. Merry and Pippin were a bit spooked, but other than that, they seem to be all right." Sam suddenly appeared in my view, squatting next to me and gazing intently at me.
I turned my head slowly so that I was looking into his eyes. I could see a bit of happiness in them, him thinking that the worst was over with, but yet a bit of concern remaining. He still was not satisfied.
"Really?" I said, and he nodded.
"Everyone understands that you have quite a bit on yer mind, Mr. Frodo," he replied, taking a seat on his rear, facing me. "Being a ringbearer and all, of course."
I turned my eyes from his, lowering them in melancholy. "But you *don't,* Sam.none of you do." Though I could not see him, I sensed his hurt. I looked at him again, my prediction proving correct. His eyes were lowered in shame, perhaps even guilt. Guilt that he could not help me as he once was able to.
The beginnings of new tears began formulating in my throat as I said, "Oh, please understand me. I do not WANT to be the ringbearer anymore. It is too difficult." The first images of the mirror returned to me, that of my friends staring at me, then turning from me in disappointment. Pippin, Merry, Legolas, even Sam, turned away from me. In my heart, I knew that they had been doing this because I had given up. I had given up the Ring. I drove this thought from my mind. "I know you think I'm this stone mountain that cannot yield to any force imaginable, but it is simply not true." I sighed, knowing that I was hurting him with my words. I must tell him, though, I convinced myself. "Hobbits cannot take on such a great task as this. I am not fit for such a thing."
"But that's not it." he said, slowly gazing up at me again. "Now is it?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"It's because of that mirror, and what you saw in it.now isn't it?"
My heart skipped a beat, my eyes widened. He had figured me out - quicker than I had myself. He knew precisely where the root of Doubt had began growing in my heart, and was bound determined on removing it, like a weed back in Bag End.
I sighed, knowing that my deepest fears had been discovered, and forced to face the light of day. "'Tis true." I paused, then finally confessed pitifully, "I.I am fearful that what I saw might come to pass." Tears entering my eyes, I looked at him pleadingly. I leaned forward and placed my hands on his. "I do not want it to happen, Sam."
Blinking in surprise, he said solemnly, "What you saw.it was a possibility. It was what *could* happen. Was it not?"
Frowning, I recoiled and sat down once more, drawing my hands from his. Bitterly, I reply, "It was."
When I lifted my chin slightly, I found him staring sternly at me. For how long he had, I know not. He whispered, "How do you know it was what could - or would - happen if you were to give up, rather than what could - or would - happen if you continued?"
My eyes widened in surprise, taken aback. I had not thought of it that way.
"Still." I said, wanting to continue arguing, trying to explain myself to him. "I do not want what I saw to happen to you. I do not want."
"Me to die?" he offered, smiling wryly. Like an embarrassed child, I nodded. He outstretched his arms to me. Somewhat ashamed of my own insecurity, I crawled to his side, and he curled a protective arm about my shoulders. I frowned sadly, leaning my head against his shoulder.
"Has it ever entered your mind," he began, "that I might die if you give up the Ring? That everyone else will too?" I remained silent, cowering in my own self-loathing. He sensed this, and lowered his voice, as if to make the blow less harsh. "I make no guarantees, Mr. Frodo. Don't you think that I am. I just know that a lot of people are counting on you - especially the folks back home. They're why we've continued on, sir - because everyone is counting on us. Me Gaffer, Rosie, your aunts, your uncles, your other cousins, my brothers and sisters."
"I mean no offense," I interrupted, and he blinked down at me, "but it's not all those other people that I'm worried about. It's."
Knowing my thoughts, he shook his head. "One life's no more important than the next, Mr. Frodo. Ne'er you forget that neither."
"One life may not be more important than the next to the onlooker, Sam," I countered, "but not when they're your best friend." He sighed, knowing that I would never see things his way. I would never understand him, or so he thought.
"I will continue," I said, and I knew he was startled by such a plain comment. He lifted his eyebrows at me, and I wrapped my arms about him in an embrace. "I will go on for my friends, and dear Bilbo and Gandalf, but for no one else. The others - the ones who supposedly have everything depending on me - do not matter. The ones I hold dear to me are those who I will fight against the Ring for. For no one else, Sam."
He smirked, patting my back with his hand soothingly. As he turned his gaze to the image of the moon in the dark blue river, surrounded by orbs of white light, he murmured something almost inaudible to even I.
"I understand."
Second Author's Note: Frodo.and.Sam.are.not.gay.(at least in this story). o_O