Disclaimer:
I don't own Lord of the Rings or any of it's characters and I cannot claim to hope to do justice to the genious of Tolkien with any of my writing- yet I do it respectfully as an ardent admirer of Middle Earth with it's evils and innocence alike. Thus my story is humbly submitted.THE PARTING
Salt.
Even it's memory stings his eyes just as it had that day.
It was in the water;
It was in the very air he breathed… it was on his face.
He could feel the roughness, the coarseness of it in the wind
That scraped his cheeks, that chilled his spine, that froze his soul.
It was in his eyes and he could taste it as the bitter tears rolled down.
A figure on a beach alone,
Hair tossing in the wind,
Arms wrapped around to stop the shivers of body and mind and yet…
He stood.
And he was not alone in spirit,
For though he was now just a spot on the horizon,
Just a miniscule silhouette amidst the gray of rain and crashing waves,
Distant eyes were still upon him.
Distant tears once mingled now fell lonely.
Empty hands once clasped with another's and
Empty arms once full with his brother's happy embrace now hung
Silent and still.
And the ship sailed on.
Some distance off, two more hobbits stood. Meriadoc and Peregrin watched their friend with sorrow, anxiety, and silent respect.
Pippin wiped his tears fiercely as he stood against the wind. 'Oh, Frodo,' he thought. 'Why did it have to come to this? Why did you have to leave us?' He glanced over at Merry, who looked back, and a quiet understanding was between them.
'Poor Sam!' He couldn't help but think. 'I have Merry and Merry's got me, but… his best friend can't help him now.' And still they stood, defying the weather, defying the cold, defying their breaking hearts until at last the dying sun failed and the night defeated them.
Then even as Sam turned to leave, a familiar voice seemed to speak inside his head, and tears burst forth anew at the sound.
'The Ring-bearers should go together.' He'd said that to Bilbo while they had still been in the Shire.
'In the Shire,' Sam thought. 'He'll never be there again!'
'The Ring-bearers should go together.'
'Yes I know! I've heard you! And so you went together and left your Sam here alone… You tried so many times to go without me… I guess now you've finally got your way.'
'The Ring-bearers should go together.'
"But what do you mean?!" He finally shouted aloud. Merry and Pippin started at the sound and looked curiously at their friend.
'And I can't come,' Sam heard himself say.
'No, Sam. Not yet anyway…'
'Not yet?" He thought.
'Though you too were a Ring-bearer, if only for a little while. Your time may come.'
"It may? But when? How will I know?" Sam asked aloud, desperately.
But no answer came to his spinning mind and he looked out at the sea for one last time.
'Goodbye, Mr. Frodo.'
Then suddenly it seemed to him that a far light glinted and he blinked, knowing it could be nothing more than tired eyes and wishful thinking, and yet a hope and warmth filled his heart.
'My time may come?' He thought. "No."
"My time will come." He whispered to the wind, that it might carry his words to one now far away.
'Someday. On that distant shore.' Sam's brown eyes shone with a new determination. "We will meet again." So with a final effort, he ' looking back. And though they were silent, they took comfort in each other. But at last they reached the Shire and came to familiar trails again and by the time the crossroads were reached Merry and Pippin were already singing, but Sam did not resent them their song. He ached to do the same, though he had not the heart yet for such things. So it was with a heaviness inside that Sam passed the land he loved, the land he had tended and nursed so patiently to make it bloom and thrive. And it was with an emptiness that Sam came home at last. His home. The light inside seemed to mock him, offering hollow welcome. He paused and sighed and opened the door.
Sam was greeted with a sweet aroma of a well-prepared meal and the bright smile of one he loved, but they hit his callused soul with a dull numbness and he found he couldn't respond. Rosie frowned, took her husband by the hand and led him to his chair. "What's wrong, Sam?" She asked, but he could not hear her. All the sounds, all the smells were blending into strange chaos. His sight blurred as the colors and shapes mixed like a deepening fog and he suddenly felt that he was going to faint. But like a vision, the clouds parted and he saw little bouncing curls shining golden as she ran to her daddy. It was Elanor.
Sam was torn in two. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to kiss her and tell her he loved her, but a hypnotic paralysis seemed to bind him and all he could do was stare blankly at her deep, blue eyes, opened wide in confusion.
He fought deep within himself. His mind was spinning, filled with thoughts of his childhood and his journey. He could never be the same.
He watched a little boy weeding and planting with his father in the Bag End garden before running inside for another of Bilbo's stories. Then there he was doing some errands for the Baggins' back before everything went wrong. Suddenly, he saw himself by Mr. Frodo's side at Rivendell, at Emyn Muil, at Cirith Ungol, in Mordor, at the Grey Havens, at… he could not go on. He couldn't live like that anymore. He couldn't live for both Frodo and himself now. He couldn't be torn in two. He could only live for himself. Only himself. At once a great weight seemed to be lifted from his shoulders and he felt lighter than he ever had, though the pain was not erased. He was liberated. He was free, but… oh, how he missed Frodo! At once, Sam realized that he had never really come home. In his mind, he was still back in Mount Doom trying to save his master, and in his heart… he was still on the beach watching for a light that would not shine, waiting for a ship that would never return.
'I can't go on like this!' He thought and then Frodo's words returned to him unbidden and unlooked for.
'You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy, and to be, and to do.'
'Yes,' He thought decidedly. 'You always did know best, didn't you, Mr. Frodo? Forgive me, sir, but I have to go on now. You had to leave. You had to go where I can't follow. At least not yet.' A single tear ran down Sam's cheek. 'I have to go home now.'
Sam blinked. There was the fire. There was the meal still sitting, still ready. There were his wife and daughter watching anxiously and afraid. Sam took a deep breath.
"Well, I'm back." He said.