Gandalf had known for months that this day would come, but even as it came, he tried in vain to push the thought from his mind.
Frodo looked weaker and weaker every day. Gandalf heard him crying out in his sleep nearly every night, and every step seemed a strenuous effort for the hobbit.
When Frodo had first set foot upon these shores all those decades earlier, the elves had said that they would not give him direct healing, claiming that the peace of the land would provide Frodo with the healing that he needed.
Until the past few months, Gandalf had believed that the elves' claim was correct. It took several years, but over time the pain gradually melted from Frodo's eyes, and his behavior had changed equally subtly. He smiled more, and there was less sadness in those smiles. He no longer walked as if a great weight was pulling him down, and his skin regained its healthy complexion.
He never talked about the Quest with ease, and he spent most of his time on his own in quiet reflection. Even so, Gandalf knew that Frodo was gaining the healing he so badly needed.
But all that was gone now.
The elves had no explanation for the sudden change in Frodo's behavior. No one had so suddenly fallen back into such a pitiful state.
The old wounds began to pain him again. It started as a barely present chill in his shoulder and a nearly absent throbbing on the back of his neck, but with each day it grew worse. Perhaps he felt this way because he had grown accustomed to the lack of pain, but the pain in his shoulder felt worse than it ever had when he was in Middle-earth. The slightest movement of his arm would paralyze him with agony, and he soon did not move his arm at all.
Worst of all was the reappearance of the haunting presence of the Ring. He felt the chain digging at his neck, choking him, drawing blood, even though he no longer wore the chain. He felt the constant burning gaze of the Eye, and he heard the voice of Sauron in his head, all but forcing to claim the Ring that no longer existed.
Although he attempted to conceal his discomfort, his attempts were in vain, for the elves had come to know him to well. The elves used every healing method that they knew, but nothing worked.
Elrond was charged with the task of telling Gandalf, for Gandalf wished to deliver the news to Frodo. With a manner that was grave even for Elrond, he spoke. "Gandalf, there is nothing we can do. It is only a matter of time before he is overcome and dies."
Gandalf blinked the tears away as he looked at Frodo from afar. He breathed slowly and finally approached him.
Frodo did not need to look to recognize the presence of his old friend. "What did Elrond say?"
Gandalf tried not to dwell on how thin Frodo's voice sounded. With a lump in his throat, Gandalf said, "He said there is nothing they can do." He swallowed, and for the first time in countless years, the wizard lied. "Perhaps there is hope yet. There is no guarantee that you will die soon."
Gandalf knew from Frodo's expression that Frodo did not believe him, but he did not speak. Frodo quickly turned away, but not before Gandalf saw the tears running down his cheeks.
Frodo was now too weak to walk. He lay perfectly still in his bed, too ill to sleep, too tired to move, too weak to even lift a glass of water.
Knowing that he would soon die, Gandalf walked into Frodo's bedroom and closed the door.
His eyes had never looked so dim, and his complexion was as white as his sheets. Gandalf wondered if Frodo was aware of his presence, but Frodo soon looked at him. Then Gandalf saw that Frodo had ben weeping silently.
"What is it?"
Frodo twitched his head, as if he did not have the energy to shake it. "I want to wait for Sam. He'll be here soon. I know that he will."
His voice sounded ghostly. Many would have dismissed Frodo's statement as feverish delusion, but Gandalf knew how strong Frodo's intuition was. Fearing that his words would be too insensitive, Gandalf responded, "Frodo, it might be better if you did not wait. I do not think Sam would want to see you in such a state. It would surely break his heart."
Gandalf knew that Frodo understood. Frodo's gaze turned to the window, as if he saw the ship that waited to carry his soul.
"Gandalf, tell the elves not to close my eyes. I—I want Sam to do that. He will be here before I am buried."
Gandalf nodded and prepared to leave the room, but Frodo spoke again.
"I just have one more request. Tell him—tell him I'm sorry. Tell him that I wanted to see him again more than anything. Tell him that I missed him."
No longer fighting back the tears, Gandalf nodded one last time. Taking Frodo's hand, he whispered, "Thank you," and left the room.