"Merry?" Your voice is cracked and dry, but still so recognisable. Gandalf slips silently past me and goes to sit at the foot of Sam's bed, but I have eyes only for you, my cousin. Your eyes are open, but so dark, as if the Shadow that you walked beneath has coated itself over them. They focus slowly on my face, and you frown.
"You've changed," you say, confusion written in your face. "You're taller."
I shake my head, unable to speak. I reach tentatively for your bandaged hand, trying to tell you without words that it really is me, that you're not dreaming any more. "Frodo…"
You breathe a soft sigh, though whether of acceptance, weariness or grief I cannot tell. "You're not my Merry-lad any more, are you? Gandalf said… he told me what you did. You and Pippin. My poor, brave cousins. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this."
"You didn't drag me anywhere," I try to protest, but my heart has stuck in my throat, and all that comes out is a strangled whimper as I do my utmost not to cry.
"Well, at least we're all together again now," you sigh. "At least that is still the same."
"I'm still here, Frodo," I manage to whisper at last. "I haven't changed." But as you smile a little and close your eyes, I have to swallow back the ashy taste of guilt at the lie.
For I am not the same. Oh Frodo, nothing is the same anymore.
Gimli hasn't been the same since he went into the Glittering Caves. Then again, I suppose he's not really been the same since he entered Lothlorien and saw the Lady Galadriel. He's not so gruff now, and he's more willing to listen to the green and growing things than before. And his friendship with Legolas! You know the tales of the Dwarves in the dungeons of the Elves; you wouldn't believe how close those two are. It's almost funny, seeing them walk about the camp together.
Legolas is probably the one of our Fellowship who's changed the least. But he's learnt from Gimli to hear the song of the earth in many different ways, he says, like the way that stone responds to a stream rushing over it, as well as the stream's feelings. If streams can actually have feelings - I haven't quite worked that bit out yet. He's been surrounded by mortals for months, and I guess he must find it strange to be close to us, who know that final death could be but one knife-blow away. That's changed him, I know.
Aragorn's changed. Oh yes, he's changed more than I thought possible. He's King now, you know; he even looks the part if he's had a bath and a hair wash, and is wearing a proper robe instead of his armour or his riding leathers which he is still refusing to take off. He's not just the leader of our Fellowship, but he's the leader of all Mankind. You can tell he's a proper King - something in the way he carries himself has changed. He doesn't blend into the background so much. People don't look at him with a sneer or call him names any more. They trust him and obey him, almost revere him. I still have a hard time reconciling Strider the scruffy Ranger with Elessar the King of Gondor.
You know yourself how much Gandalf's changed. He was with you when you woke up the first time. I wonder whether you've realised how deep the change goes; he hasn't just dropped all his robes in a tub of bleach! He laughs more now, and he sometimes even answers Pip's questions without riddles. It's as if he's been wound tight by this war, but now that it's over he can just relax and do or say whatever he likes.
Yes, Pippin still asks incessant questions. In that he hasn't changed. But we are both so tall now, taller than any other hobbit has ever been, and we've seen such wonders - the White City of Gondor, and the forest of Fangorn, and the charge of the Rohirrim across the Pelennor in the breaking of the day. We've met Ents and drunk their draughts, seen them destroy the stronghold of Saruman in less time than it takes a hobbit to eat dinner. And we've become warriors - imagine that, Frodo! Little Pippin, the smallest Knight of Gondor, but one of the bravest, nonetheless.
We've seen death too. King Théoden, and Lord Denethor. Poor Boromir. Hundreds of Orcs and Men. And that's before you count the ones we've killed ourselves: that great troll, as well as… that evil thing. Pippin and I don't wear our swords for show any more. We know how to wield them. I'm not the little, innocent Merry-lad you left behind at Parth Galen.
Nothing will ever be the same again. The Shadow has gone from the world, the King has returned, and you…
I can't even comprehend how much you've changed. Gandalf took me aside just before he brought he here and told me as gently as he could that you and Sam weren't just emaciated by your terrible journey, but that you had stared into the very heart of Darkness, that the damage it caused to your silver-bright heart and his gentle, peace-loving soul won't ever heal. You're wounded beyond my imagination, and there's nothing I can do to ease the pain.
And I find myself suddenly weeping as I sit by your side, for the world you have woken up to is so very different to the world you fell asleep in…