An Ever-Fixed Mark
His wound would never heal, at least not here, and yet still he hesitated.
It was only Gandalf's remark that brought his future colliding with his present. It was the remark that let three of his closest friends know the truth that he had been unable to admit to them-he was leaving Middle Earth with Bilbo.
Merry, Pippin, and Sam turned to face Frodo, their tears flowing now even more profusely than before. Their looks were a mixture of shock and grief.
It was not Frodo's wounds that now cut him more deeply than any Morgul blade or Shelob sting could do-it was the knowledge that he had inflicted pain upon those whom he would ever wish to protect from any sadness-great or small. How could he explain to them that with the loss of his finger-the loss of the ring-he had lost something infinitely more precious that he could never recover here-the lost pieces of his soul? If Frodo could heal here, if he could pick up the threads of life that he had lost, then maybe he could stay, but he was too wounded, too broken, and thus he now had to break these last bonds of fellowship, at least in its physical form.
So Frodo was silent, unable to explain to them the reasons why he had to go, unable to explain to them the sorrow he felt at abandoning them, at leaving them, when they had sacrificed so much for him. It was a debt he never could repay and would never think of without overwhelming gratitude. He owed his very existence to them. The pang he felt at losing them was tremendous.
So overwhelmed was he, all he could do was embrace first Merry and then Pippin. He held them long and fast, treasuring each second of the hugs. For these precious moments with his closest kin would have to last him the rest of his natural life. They were the companions of his youth, the two he looked to when things looked darkest, when he needed cheering along the way. Here he had caused them pain and he wished he could cry like them, to release the sadness, but he couldn't-it ran too deep for tears.
And then Sam-last but never least in his thoughts, his moral compass, his northern star, his light when all other lights had gone out. His love is the ever-fixed mark that peered into the dark abyss of Sauron's evil working through Frodo and never wavered, even at the edge of Mt. Doom.
Frodo wrapped him into an embrace and thought, Sam, my Sam, without whom I would have slipped into the fiery abyss and let it destroy me completely. It is because of him...because of him...because of them all...that I am even here. Broken though I am, I am still here. The inner light has not gone out, not yet.
Sam's tears fell on Frodo's shoulder causing the inner struggle to rise up once again-to go or not to go. To stay would only condemn himself to needless suffering, a suffering that would only hurt his friends deeper, as they could do nothing to soothe the wounds that would never heal. Therefore, it was time to go, before he lost all nerve, and stayed to his own ruin, and theirs.
Frodo leaned back breaking the embrace and placed the Red Book in Sam's shaking hands. It was now Samwise the Brave's turn to continue the story of those left who had many chances of turning back on the quest but didn't. It was Sam's duty now to keep the flame of truth alive so that that which should never have been forgotten, would never be forgotten again. So that those living now and those to come would understand the sacrifices made to free Middle Earth from the evils of slavery and servitude.
Sam's head bowed in anguish at the loss of him whom he had sworn to protect and never leave. Frodo placed a soft kiss on Sam's forehead. It was the kiss of peace, a pledge and a bond of eternal friendship never to be broken no matter the distance that separated them. It was also a promise, a promise to wait for him until he, the last of the ring bearer's made the journey to Valinor, and they could make the last, great journey together.
Frodo turned slowly but deliberately and walked away from the crying trio. He boarded the ship with the other travelers, including his beloved uncle. There these two ring bearers could journey to the place of healing and regain at last their freedom from the memory of the accursed ring of power.
His heart could not bear to lose any second of his friend's faces, so he turned to look at them as the shipped sailed away into the midst. What he saw were three grief-stricken hobbits. Merry, always the older protecting one, held Pippin close. Sam's hand clung fast to the Red Book, his last link to his departing master and friend. But it was what he saw in their eyes after hugging them that made him smile, albeit sadly, at them now. There was no blame in their eyes, only sorrow, acceptance, and love. It mirrored Frodo's own sentiments.
The sadness would lessen in time. Sam would have his family to take care of, to make him happy, telling his children far off tales of adventure, sacrifice, and the triumph of friendship and good over evil and suffering. He was sure Sam would emphasize Frodo above all and yet he hoped that his children would see read between the lines and realize that Frodo wouldn't have gotten very far at all without Sam. Merry and Pippin would keep the tales alive in the Green Dragon where many would gather with pints and pipes to listen to heroic deeds of the fight against lord of the rings. The thought already made him want to laugh for he was sure certain parts in the tale, though no less true at the heart, would be greatly exaggerated. He could see it all now, as if it had already occurred; in fact he had a clear view into their futures in Middle Earth, futures to which he would play no part, but as a memory.
As the midst swallowed Frodo and the ship, he lost sight of the three tear stained hobbits standing on the shore. But Frodo took with him the knowledge that their love equaled his own. It was a love that would never die. It would sustain them all throughout their lives, the unbroken fellowship. Frodo's smile had conveyed to them the truth they all knew-that they only parted to meet again, that the faithful compass of their hearts would reunite them-either in this life or the next.
His wound would never heal, at least not here, and yet still he hesitated.
It was only Gandalf's remark that brought his future colliding with his present. It was the remark that let three of his closest friends know the truth that he had been unable to admit to them-he was leaving Middle Earth with Bilbo.
Merry, Pippin, and Sam turned to face Frodo, their tears flowing now even more profusely than before. Their looks were a mixture of shock and grief.
It was not Frodo's wounds that now cut him more deeply than any Morgul blade or Shelob sting could do-it was the knowledge that he had inflicted pain upon those whom he would ever wish to protect from any sadness-great or small. How could he explain to them that with the loss of his finger-the loss of the ring-he had lost something infinitely more precious that he could never recover here-the lost pieces of his soul? If Frodo could heal here, if he could pick up the threads of life that he had lost, then maybe he could stay, but he was too wounded, too broken, and thus he now had to break these last bonds of fellowship, at least in its physical form.
So Frodo was silent, unable to explain to them the reasons why he had to go, unable to explain to them the sorrow he felt at abandoning them, at leaving them, when they had sacrificed so much for him. It was a debt he never could repay and would never think of without overwhelming gratitude. He owed his very existence to them. The pang he felt at losing them was tremendous.
So overwhelmed was he, all he could do was embrace first Merry and then Pippin. He held them long and fast, treasuring each second of the hugs. For these precious moments with his closest kin would have to last him the rest of his natural life. They were the companions of his youth, the two he looked to when things looked darkest, when he needed cheering along the way. Here he had caused them pain and he wished he could cry like them, to release the sadness, but he couldn't-it ran too deep for tears.
And then Sam-last but never least in his thoughts, his moral compass, his northern star, his light when all other lights had gone out. His love is the ever-fixed mark that peered into the dark abyss of Sauron's evil working through Frodo and never wavered, even at the edge of Mt. Doom.
Frodo wrapped him into an embrace and thought, Sam, my Sam, without whom I would have slipped into the fiery abyss and let it destroy me completely. It is because of him...because of him...because of them all...that I am even here. Broken though I am, I am still here. The inner light has not gone out, not yet.
Sam's tears fell on Frodo's shoulder causing the inner struggle to rise up once again-to go or not to go. To stay would only condemn himself to needless suffering, a suffering that would only hurt his friends deeper, as they could do nothing to soothe the wounds that would never heal. Therefore, it was time to go, before he lost all nerve, and stayed to his own ruin, and theirs.
Frodo leaned back breaking the embrace and placed the Red Book in Sam's shaking hands. It was now Samwise the Brave's turn to continue the story of those left who had many chances of turning back on the quest but didn't. It was Sam's duty now to keep the flame of truth alive so that that which should never have been forgotten, would never be forgotten again. So that those living now and those to come would understand the sacrifices made to free Middle Earth from the evils of slavery and servitude.
Sam's head bowed in anguish at the loss of him whom he had sworn to protect and never leave. Frodo placed a soft kiss on Sam's forehead. It was the kiss of peace, a pledge and a bond of eternal friendship never to be broken no matter the distance that separated them. It was also a promise, a promise to wait for him until he, the last of the ring bearer's made the journey to Valinor, and they could make the last, great journey together.
Frodo turned slowly but deliberately and walked away from the crying trio. He boarded the ship with the other travelers, including his beloved uncle. There these two ring bearers could journey to the place of healing and regain at last their freedom from the memory of the accursed ring of power.
His heart could not bear to lose any second of his friend's faces, so he turned to look at them as the shipped sailed away into the midst. What he saw were three grief-stricken hobbits. Merry, always the older protecting one, held Pippin close. Sam's hand clung fast to the Red Book, his last link to his departing master and friend. But it was what he saw in their eyes after hugging them that made him smile, albeit sadly, at them now. There was no blame in their eyes, only sorrow, acceptance, and love. It mirrored Frodo's own sentiments.
The sadness would lessen in time. Sam would have his family to take care of, to make him happy, telling his children far off tales of adventure, sacrifice, and the triumph of friendship and good over evil and suffering. He was sure Sam would emphasize Frodo above all and yet he hoped that his children would see read between the lines and realize that Frodo wouldn't have gotten very far at all without Sam. Merry and Pippin would keep the tales alive in the Green Dragon where many would gather with pints and pipes to listen to heroic deeds of the fight against lord of the rings. The thought already made him want to laugh for he was sure certain parts in the tale, though no less true at the heart, would be greatly exaggerated. He could see it all now, as if it had already occurred; in fact he had a clear view into their futures in Middle Earth, futures to which he would play no part, but as a memory.
As the midst swallowed Frodo and the ship, he lost sight of the three tear stained hobbits standing on the shore. But Frodo took with him the knowledge that their love equaled his own. It was a love that would never die. It would sustain them all throughout their lives, the unbroken fellowship. Frodo's smile had conveyed to them the truth they all knew-that they only parted to meet again, that the faithful compass of their hearts would reunite them-either in this life or the next.