Dream With Hope
by Talisha Hibdon


RATING: G (future NC-17)
PAIRING: Frodo/Sam
DISCLAIMER: The disclaimer telling you that I don't own Frodo or Sam or any of Tolkien's world got trampled over by the Ringwraiths. =)
SUMMARY: A drama in the works. Frodo decides to return to Middle-earth to try and find new meaning for his life without the hope of ever having Sam's love. But is there really no hope?
NOTES: This is a Slash or M/M romance fic, so if that upsets you, scram. This fic may take a LONG time to write. I've no clue how manychapters there will be, but this fic WILL be long. Have patience and you will be rewarded! ^_^ All feedback welcome, especially as this fic is still in the drafting stages.
SPOILERS: If you have not read the Return of the King, or at least know how LOTR is going to end, you probably shouldn't read this fic, that is unless you peeps like spoilers, like I do. ^.~


Chapter 1


In every age since the beginning of the world, there arises a love story of such profound awe and beauty, that it lives on in the minds and hearts of people for ages to come. These strories often repeat themselves in differant forms, adobting differant settings, characters and situations. But the message of the story remains untarnished and true. Love is light. Love is strength. Love never fails.

This is the retelling of such a story.

It begins with a single ray of light, peeking over the horizon, shedding its warmth on the sleeping world. The light carressed the earth like a lover, coaxing it into waking. The creatures that had prowled in the shadows of night crawled back into their dark sactuaries. Eyes large and small opened and witnessed the dawning of a new day. The larger, sleepier creatures shifted and purred as the sun kissed their features. The people of the land rolled over in their beds and felt their souls being pulled by that sunlight back into the realm of waking. Flowers reached up and opened their faces into the growing sunlight. The birds leapt from their nests in pure joy and perched on the welcoming branches of their trees, singing until they felt their hearts should burst, "Oh sweet Middle-earth, Middle-earth, Middle-earth!"

Things continued as they had done every morning since the Song of Creation. Soon the sun had fully risen and morning blossomed in the Shire. It was a beautiful sight, if a person knew how to appreciate such things. Many do not, but I shall write of one who did. This one Hobbit was always up with the sunrise, and he liked nothing better than to stand at his front door and with a pipe and welcome the sun in all her glory. He watched as the creatures of earth and sky awoke with joy at the new day. A robin alighted on the gate in front of the smail and sang a morning greeting to the Hobbit, showing off it's bright red breast, before fluttering over the Hill.

The Master of Bag End gazed on all of this with a gentle smile curling his lips around his pipe. The flowers and the wild creatures were so simple and innocent, free and caring not for all the troubles that vex normal civilized people. He knew that his own day would be full of paperwork and public appearances, attending all the duties of the Mayor of Michel Delvings, but he tried to forget his worries in just this one moment every morning and simply enjoy life as the simple creatures did.

After taking a moment to enjoy this simple pleasure, he turned his face towards the West. He glared that way hard, trying to see past the row of smails that lay that way, past the feilds and villages, past the very edge of the Shire. He was looking towards the Sea, which lay beyond all the land that he so loved, in the very direction that something even more beloved to him had gone. That something, or rather someone, had not been seen by any Hobbit, creature, nor bird in Middle-earth for fifteen years.

"Good mornin'..." he whispered to the loved someone, hoping that his greeting would be carried across the Sea on the winds to that place where this particular someone now dwelt, far away from Middle-earth. A quiet sadness began to throb in his chest, recalling careless dark brown hair, smooth pale skin, red lips, and bottomless blue eyes. He always missed this beloved person most at this hour, for it was in this same hour of the morning that they had parted. This was the very hour in which fifteen years ago he watched this loved one drift off on the waters of the Sea and dissapear into the gray mists, never to return.

Inside the smail he noticed the sound of thumping footsteps coming quickly behind him, suddenly driving the lonesome, nastolgic thoughts right out of his head, for the moment at least. In an instant, out popped a little figure, a boy with curly sand colored hair, healthy rosy cheeks, a wide grin revealing dimples on either side of his pink lips, and merry blue eyes. The child bounded out in front of the Hobbit and inhaled deeply, chuckling to himself, then turned to his elder. "Good mornin' Dad!" he exclaimed brightly. "Will we be doing any gardenin' this mornin'?"

Samwise Gardner (once Gamgee) beamed down at his son with equal mirth. "Good mornin', Frodo-lad," his father replied. "I'm afraid I can't this mornin'. I'll have to be leavin' right after first breakfast." The boy looked dissapointed but continued to grin anyhow. Sam's eldest son always tried hard to get up at sunrise with his father, hoping to be able to help out with tending the garden, and this morning he had succeeded. Unfortunately, what Sam said was true, and he really didn't have any time this morning, probably not even in the whole day, to be able to tend to what had now become his garden.

"Oh, all right," Frodo sighed. "How long will you be at work then?"

"I'm not certain," Sam shook his head. "But I will try to be home as soon as may be." He took a puff of his pipe and blew a smoke ring the sailed high into the air and over the Hill. "I'm hopin' you didn't disturb yer mother with that tramplin' you made down the hall. You know she needs her rest now more than ever with the baby comin' and all."

Frodo-lad puffed up his chest, looking cutely indignant. "I did no such thing. I can hear her snorin' even from here!"

Samwise listened for a moment, then laughed and ruffled the little boy's hair. "Why your quite right, lad. I hadn't noticed it before." He gave one more solomn glance towards the West before at last making a move to go back into the smail. "Let's wake everyone up and have breafast made then, shall we?"

"I want pancakes today, Dad!" little Frodo bubbled up, bounding after him with all the energy of a young and simple 13 year old hobbit lad.

"That can be arranged," Sam responded with a laugh before shutting the round green painted door behind them.


Middle-earth knew not that in that very same hour, the beloved one of Master Samwise, the one called Frodo Baggins, was looking off over the Sea into the East, towards his one beloved whom he had left behind, as he had done every morning since he left. But this morning was much differant than the rest. It was this very morning that the former Master of Bag End was making ready to board the white ship of the Elves in the loading ports of Aman, schedueled to make a return trip through the Straight Road and back to the mortal realm in which he was born.

The ship waited only for him, and he came with a stride that was set so firm, one could hardly have imagined he had once been the bent, fragile Hobbit he had been when he first came to the Blessed Realm. Darkness and misery and a broken heart had once weighed heavily upon his soul, causing his once bright eyes to dim, his cheeks to whiten, his lips to drain of all their color, and his head to bend down towards the ground. Now, even as his sadness and lonliness were still ever present in him, his head was held high, his cheeks flushed, his red mouth was set in a stern expression, and his eyes were brilliant with blue feeling. A darkness and uncertainty had been lifted from him, and he had become determined to mend and heal his broken heart and soul before it destroyed him.

Frodo walked up the steps and into the beautiful ship of shimmering white, followed close behind by Gandalf, even more splendidly white than the vessel. "Are you certain now that this is what you want, Frodo?" he asked seriously, touching the shorter male's shoulder and turning him gently to face him. "The Elves will not begrudge you if you choose to change you mind and stay."

Frodo never looked more sure of anything in his life as he looked up at the tall old man with an intense gaze. "It is my wish to go. Bilbo would have wanted it this way. I don't expect to be welcomed when I return to the Shire, but I can not continue to run from my difficulties anymore. It's time I turned and faced them, before I become too weak to handle them."

Gandalf smiled down at the Hobbit with admiration and some relief. The fact was that he had been hoping that Frodo would choose to return someday after having taken his rest in Aman. He had known that if Frodo had chose to stay in the Blessed Realm without the comfort of Samwise, he could continue to fester dark, lonesome thoughts, until it would be too late for any light to ever again peirce his soul. He'd become completely withdrawn, unreachable by life or love, and when Sam's time came to come across the sea, he would not have known his Master.

But Bilbo had done a marvelous thing by bringing to light the danger of not accepting his problems and confronting them. None but the old Hobbit could have reached Frodo in his sorrowful state, not even Gandalf himself. The former Ring-bearer would take comfort in nothing, and everywhere he had looked he saw only his Sam and longed for him. What better way to make such a stubborn Hobbit listen than by waiting until he had no choice but to listen for the sake of a dying loved one. Bilbo's timing for the much need conversation had been perfect, and Frodo was obliged to hear him out in his final moments. He had heard what he needed to hear.

The Elvish captain announced their departure. On the shore, Elrond and Galadriel and a host of both their households came to see them off. Gandalf would return with the boat, but Frodo would remain on the shores of the Grey Havens. Frodo approuched the end of the ship, which held carved into it the image of a Sea Elf gaurding the vessel against sea monster and storm. He looked out among the all the fair folk that had deemed it important to see him on his way and wish him well.

"Farewell, fair Elves!" Frodo called with more than a tear in his eye. "Farewell Master Elrond! Farewell well fair Lady! Namarie! I shall miss you all!"

"Namarie, Ring-bearer," Galadriel called. "You are always welcome here, if ever you should wish to return. May Elbereth and the Valar bless you and keep you on your journey."

"Farewell, wherever you fare, Frodo Baggins!" Elrond called in turn. "May the memory of Valinor never fade in your memory."

"It shall be a memory I will treasure always," Frodo proclaimed as the ship pushed off. "Namarie!" On they drifted and Frodo watched spellbound as the Undying Lands grew further and further away, until it faded completely into the gray mists. He watched as the ship slowly passed through the veil of mist and saw the ripples of water change. Near the shores of Valinor, you could see the very bottom of the sea even though it would lay fathoms and fathoms deep. The water was so clear that even at that depth you could see the shadow of the vessel in which you sailed on the soft ocean floor. Now as they drew further and further away from the Blessed Realm, the water began to change and become dense and blurred and you could no longer see the bottom. And you could smell a change as well. Where before on Valinor there was the scent of fresh water and sweet growing things in the air, there was now the scent of salt and sand. It was not an unpleasent change, Frodo had thought. Just different.

As Frodo turned his head now towards the way of the Straight Road that they would be taking in a day or so, he noticed dolphins swimming along side the ship and leaping into the air playfully as they sped along. He sat and thought of all the many things he had seen in his life, both on land and sea, and thought that even though these many sights where indeed beautiful, he thought he'd never again see anything as beautiful as his Sam, tending the garden of Bag End, or smiling at him over a pipe of Old Toby. The Hobbit suddenly felt inspired. A song he had made that morning sitting beside the Sea crept up from his heart and passed through his lips in a whimsical tune that was light yet full of longing.

I settle beside the Sea and think
Of all the things I'd seen
Of wondrous caves in mountains tall
Of woods so evergreen.

I think of field, of hill, and river.
I think of moonlit skies.
But not one wonder I'd seen could try
To match your perfect eyes.

I long much to see your smile, your walk,
Your voice sweet like a psalm.
I dream of smiles and a friendly touch,
Your palm against my palm.

I think of times we'd spent together,
Of many meals we shared,
Of late nights spent singing by the fire
That showed me that you cared.

I recall times of love filled silence,
Of walks through golden trees,
Of tranquil talks in field or on hill,
And tears shed by the Sea.

I settle beside the Sea and think
Of you so far away,
And how much I long to hold, and kiss,
And love you every day.


Of course he knew he was thinking about Sam, though some of the Elves on board wondered at the song's meaning. Gandalf simply smiled warmly at the Hobbit, and turned his attention again to the rolling sea. Frodo thought about the song for a moment and found that now it in no way did justice to how he felt, especially now that he was finally returning to the very place that had been so far away in his song.

Suddenly and laugh reached his ears, and for a moment he was sure it had been the dolphines. But when again it came, he realized that sounded more like the voice of a woman, in fact many women. He was overcome with curiosity as he leaned his head over the edge of the ship and saw something that was so surprising, his mouth dropped open and stayed that way. There below them in the now salty sea waters, splashing and diving among the dolphines, where the figures of women, each with a different hue of skin, and all with long fish tails and fins where their feet should have been. The Sea Elves where swimming mightly along side the ship, and they were laughing amongst themselves.

"Sing it again, little master!" cried a black haired, blue skinned Sea Elf-maid up to him.

Gandalf peered over the edge at the group. A roar of squeels of delight and curiousity went up from the maids at the sight of his pointed hat and long white beard nearly spilling over the edge of the ship. They rolled about the waves and leapt into the air in the same manner as the dolphins. "Well met, mistresses of the Seas!" he greeted. "What brings you to us that you'd follow our ship so far and swiftly?"

"Love!" some exclaimed joyfully. "Boredom!" cried others.

"Sing to us thy song again!" the black haired maid called up again to Frodo. They were giggling teasingly, but not in an unkindly way. In fact, many of the Sea Elves looked very interested in hearing his little attempt at a song again. "We pleasure in thy lay of love! Come now! Let us hear it again!"

"I think not, my merry Sea Elves," Frodo called down to them. "For I grow hungry and must take breakfast before I faint."

Sweet laughter rang up throughout the leaping and splashing Sea Elf-maids, and it made Frodo smile to hear it. "Then thou must take thy meat quickly!" warned the black haired Sea maid with a knowing smile. "A storm comes! Food stores may be lost! We came to warn thee of thy peril! The waters of the Sundering Sea are not as loving and peaceful as those of the shores of Valinor."

Gandalf heard this and turned sharply in the direction the Sea Elves motioned to. Frodo heard him take a sharp breath, his brow furrowing in concern. Frodo gazed in that direction and at first he saw nothing, then at last saw the darker clouds that seemed to move towards them even as they watched. "Our thanks, ladies of the waters!" Gandalf called down to them. "We shall not forget this kindness." The Elves were all ready making ready to try and steer clear of the storm.

"We shall not forget it either!" the Sea Elves giggled and sang, and the dolphins seemed to let out chuckles of their own.

"We shall met again!" the black haired Sea maid shouted up to Frodo. "Keep singing, young lover! Never stop singing!" And then just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone, diving back down into their watery homes. The Sea Elves were a merry, playful race, much less solomn than their land dwelling cousins. They enjoyed playing among the waves and singing to ships and land dwellers, often unwittingly lurering with their sweet voices many a careless male to their deaths. Yet there was no malice among them, no intent of harm. They loved all races and helped sailors by warning them of oncoming storms, just as they had done now.

The storm still seemed far off, but Frodo chose to go below deck, have something to eat, and sleep through it. He was weary and in need of rest, for he had not slept since Bilbo passed on the night before. After finishing a light first breakfast, Frodo settled into one of the beds and as he listened to the sound of waves rolling outside, his eyes were soon closed and he fell alseep to the fair rocking of the ship. And he long felt afterwords that he had not had a better slumber in fifteen years.


"Another Orc attack..." Sam frowned at the Shire Chronicle newspaper he had taken to reading every morning as his wife went about making first breakfast with Elanor's assistance. The other children were trancing about the house, getting ready for the day ahead of them.

"What's that, dear?" Mrs. Rose Gardner asked at the disturbed tone in his voice, but not hearing what had been said.

"There's been another Orc attack. This time the victim was a lass, Garnett Hilldweller. It says here that she barely escaped with the hair on her feet."

"How awful!" Elanor was heard exclaiming from within the kitchen.

"It's gettin' so a body can't take a walk about her own neighborhood without having to be constantly lookin' behind her!" Rosie agreed with her eldest daughter.

"Aye..." Sam said gravely. "To think that this should start happenin' again, even after the War..."

"Oh, do tell us some about of the War, Daddy!" Goldilocks hopped in her chair, smiling eagerly and blonde curls bouncing.

"Now, now," Rose spoke up as she waddled through the kitchen to set some plates on the table. "I won't have anymore talk of unpleasent things at my breakfast table."

Sam folded up the newspaper with a shake of the head. His wife always managed to find a reason to avoid talk of the War, whether it be breakfast or otherwise. He couldn't really blame her, he supposed. It was for the most part an uncomfortable experiance, but he should have liked to sit down with the Red Book one of those days and read some of Mr. Bilbo's and Mr. Frodo's passages, just as Frodo had wanted him to do. But he decided that he would wait until most of his children were old enough to understand the story and the lesson it was meant to give. So he let Rosie make excuses for the children.

Goldilocks pouted cutely. The lass was always one for a good story, even of the unpleasent type, as long as her father was in it. She was wholly a daddy's girl and thought that her father was the wisest and best person in the world. Anything that involved her father was worth hearing about to her. She had to practicly threaten Frodo with hiding his beloved flute to get any information at all about the War. Frodo was always the closest to their father, along with Elanor, and everyone knew it.

Frodo-lad himself had only found little bits through much prying into Sam's private things. He once came upon the Red Book while his father had been away in Michel Delvings, and he was only able to get as far as the last part of Old Bilbo's adventure and the beginning of the War before his mother caught him and pulled him out of the study by the ear. He was curious as anything to learn about the Frodo character he had only just begun to read about. He knew that he had been named after the former Master of Bag End, but he hadn't an idea beyond that who this person was and why his father had looked so sad when he asked him about it.

"So is that what you'll be workin' on when you leave today?" the lad asked in referance to the Orc attack as he helped his mother set the table. Sam looked up and smiled warmly at him, causing another smile to appear on his own face.

"Yes, my boy. People will be wantin' answers after this, and for the moment I'm afraid I have none to offer. But it's nothing you need worry yourself about, lad."

"When will we be starting school again, Mum?" Rose-lass asked from her seat next to Goldilocks, unintentionally changing the subject to more comfortable topics.

"In two months time, dearest," Mrs. Gardner said as she and Elanor came in with the meal they had prepared, Rose almost looking as if she were balancing her stray atop her growing, rounded belly.

"I don't want to go to school!" Merry-lad came striding in, followed by little Pippin, both following the smell of food from the hallway.

"No school!" Pippin echoed his elder brother.

"Hush now," Elanor chided, serving the children helpings of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and toast with jam as her mother settled down gingerly into her own chair next to her husband. "All hobbits lads and lasses have to go to school to learn thier numbers and the essential words for living. Everyone knows that."

"But we want to be able to play all day!" Merry stated with much energy.

"Play!" Pippin repeated, nodding resolutely. Little Hamfast clapped at his brothers' antics.

"Well I for one am looking forward to starting school again," Elanor said as she sat herself next to Frodo-lad.

"Easy for you to say," Frodo grinned, twiking her nose before she saw it coming. "This is your last year of attendance."

"But I'll miss it when I have to leave," Elanor sighed. "I met all my best friends at the old schoolhouse."

"I heard they were closing that schoolhouse," Rosie spoke up as she was feeding little Daisy and Primrose from thier high chairs.

"Yes, ol' Heather Bracegirdle can't afford to keep it open, so she's retirin'," Sam said in between bites of bacon. "Pity, really. I went to that school meself when I was lad. I'll be sad to see it closed."

"Does that mean we have to go to the schoolhouse in Frogmorton?" asked Goldilocks, who had aboltuely no idea of the concept of distance.

"Certainly not!" Elanor gasped. "That's a four hour ride by pony."

"Oh," Goldilocks blinked, having no real concept of time either.

"What about Overhill?" Rose-lass suggested.

"Their schoolhouse needs to be rebuilt," her mother sighed. "Everyone has been dependin' on the Bywater school for such a long time now, they've never yet got 'round to repairin' it. I wonder what on earth will happen now."

"Well, I should be able to find a way to keep the Bywater school open, if nothin' else can be done," Sam voiced, sipping his tea.

"I hope you can," Rosie nodded, then suddenly her eyes widened and her hands dropped her fork and knife and flew to her swollan stomach.

"What is it?' Sam stopped in mid bite and tensed, ready to leap out his chair at the first sign of trouble.

"Oh Sam!" his wife looked at him with a joyful smile. "He just kicked! The baby just kicked me." She quickly took his hand and held it against the tightened skin of her abdomen. He waited a moment, hardly daring to breath, when there came a little beat against his palm.

"That's a right strong lad we got there," a grin spread itself across Sam's face. Rose was simply glowing.

"It could be a girl, Daddy," Goldilocks reminded him.

"That it could, me dear," Sam agknowlegded, settling back down to finish his meal.

"Boys are better," Merry stated as if it were a very well known fact.

"Better," Pippin nodded in agreement.

"No, girls are!" Goldilocks argued with her older brothers.

"Boys!" the two insisted.

"Girls!" Goldilocks protested.

"Now stop it, you three," Elanor scolded. "Eat your breakfast."

"You ain't the boss of me!" Merry puffed out his chest. Frodo chuckled as Pippin mimicked his brother.

"But I am, and I say you shall stop this arguing and finish your food," Rosie inserted firmly as Hamfast laughed.

Sam leaned back in his chair and beamed at his family. By Elbereth, did he love them dearly. He thanked the powers that be everyday for being so blessed with them. He sat and watched as his nine children finished their mother's cooking eagerly without any more arguement. Once they were all finished, they leapt to wash up before going outside, giving a kiss to their mother along the way and thanking her for the wonderful meal. Sam himself went to gather his papers from the Study and made ready for the day's work. He had a meeting with several important hobbits from the Michel Delvings office. It was on the way out that Frodo-lad caught him.

"Why aren't you out playin' with your friends already, me lad?" Sam asked the teenager.

Frodo shuffled his furry feet. "They can wait. I just wanted to wish you luck. I know that all those mayor duties can be hecktic at times."

"That's very kind of you to say, Frodo," Sam bent down and gave his son a hug. "I'll be back before sunset for sure, and then we can work in the garden like you wanted."

"Sure, Dad," Frodo nodded against his father shirt before being released. With another smile, the Master of Bag End walked out and mentally prepared himself for the day ahead.


It was late evening when the white ship finally passed through the storm and the waters of the Sundering Seas calmed. Upon waking from his long slumber, the first thing that Frodo Baggins saw when he opened his eyes was another pair of eyes, bright blue eyes with wide black slits for pupils, staring right into his own blue irises. The Hobbit let out a starled yelp and flung himself back, nearly hitting the wooden wall on the left side of his bed. When at last the sleep had been rubbed completely out of his eyes, he saw that the owner of the eyes was in fact a cat, a grey tabby, which had continued to stare at him and hardly blinked when he had cried out.

As he moved to sit up, the cat chose to leap onto the bed and move into his lap, meowing for attention. It was then that he noticed that the feline was completely soaked, from head to foot, in salt water.

"Well, how on earth did you get on this ship, little one?" Frodo said with a smile, having fully recovered from his surprise. The cat simply looked at him expectantly. He looked about him for a cloth of some sort to dry the poor creature, and upon finding one, began to rub the cat's body down. It remained perfectly still as the Hobbit ministered to it. Frodo didn't really know why he was towel drying a stray cat, only that it should be done. "Did you get onto the ship from Valinor? I didn't know the Elves kept cats on their island." The cat blinked at him and meowed.

"Are you awake, Master Periannath?" came the voice of one of the Elves as he stepped down into the room and gazed at him.

"Yes I am, Master Elf," Frodo yawned, stilling stroking the drying fur of the feline on his lap. "What time is it?"

"You slept rather deeply, small one," the Elf grinned. "It is now nearly 10:00 in the evening. We are nearing the shores of the Grey Havens."

Frodo's eyes widened and his hand stilled upon the cat. "I slept for fourteen hours?"

"You must have been very weary in body and heart to have slept through such a storm as we have had to weather through," the Elf laughed at the Hobbit's dumbfounded expression. "But be at ease. The storm has passed. Would you like to take your supper here? There is still the whole night to wait before we dock at the Grey Havens and you take your leave of us."

Frodo's heart catapulted into rapid beating at the thought of coming back to Middle-earth after 15 years of being away. Suddenly doubt washed over his mind like black water. Was he really ready to go back? So much must have changed since the time he left the Shire, so many years ago now. How indeed could he ever expect things to be the same? What if he was making a terrible mistake?

The cat at his lap meowed and rubbed it's head against his hand, demanding more affection. He was suddenly brought out of his thoughts and realized that the Elf was still standing there, waiting for an answer to his question. The Hobbit swallowed slowly before speaking.

"Yes, I think I should like to eat here, if it's no trouble to you," Frodo said as he started stroking the cat again, to it's pleasure. The Elf laughed and left with a shake of the head at the silliness of mortals.

"What will I do?" Frodo asked aloud of the purring feline. "I hadn't given thought to what I should do when I return. I have no money, no hole to call home. Where will I go? And what of Sam? He will have changed, surely, and with him his feelings and thoughts of me. What if Bilbo was wrong about him?" A lump grew in Frodo's throat at the thought of being openly rejected by Sam. Was it worth it to suffer such heartache?

Frodo had almost hoped that in those long years away from Middle-earth that somehow his need for Sam would lessen as well. He often thought that it would have been better if he had never fallen in love with his loyal manservant, his closest friend. Much agony would have been spared to the both of them. But time had not allowed rest for Frodo from what truley ailed him, the aching knowlegde that in the end the one he loved most had not chosen him. No, indeed, not all the blessings of the Valar could have cured him of that wound.

But would it even make a differance if he returned now, walking in this midsts of so many reminders of past hopes and broken dreams?

"Perhapes I should return to Aman..." he murmered softly, feeling the words clench up in his throat as they passed through. The cat called loudly to him as his hand had stopped again in mid stroke. He blinked out of darkening train of thought at the mewling cry and suddenly realized the futality of worrying. It was best not to think about such things until the time came. And if things turned out ill, he could always return to the Grey Havens to take one the Elvish white ships back to Valinor, never to return again.

"It's at least worth a try, eh?" he smiled down at the cat, which was content once again with the attention he was giving it. He decided that he would trust Bilbo's judgement in this matter. It was the least that he owed for his oldest friend. He owed it their friendship to try and overcome his fears, to open up his long abandoned heart again to the warmth and caring of friends and family.

And, he supposed, he owed it to himself to know for sure what might have been and to remember, perhaps, his long forgotton dream with hope.