He's so cold.
I can tell he's shivering, even though he's wearing his Elven cloak that the Lady Galadriel gave him. I turn to look at him and I see how distant he looks, how much of this is unreal to him, how much he sees that I cannot. He sits uneasily in the saddle, and seems loath to ride into the Ford.
"Mr Frodo, are you alright?"
He shivers and passes a hand over his eyes – his right hand. His left is clutched around the reins as if he never wants to let go. Or maybe he can't.
"Just shadows, Sam," he whispers. "Just shadows and memories."
"Are you in pain, Frodo?" Gandalf checks his own horse and turns to face my master. Frodo sighs and one hand absently moves to rub at his left shoulder.
"Well, yes I am," he admits. "It is my shoulder. The wound aches, and the memory of darkness is heavy on me. It was a year ago today."
"Alas, there are some wounds which cannot be wholly cured," says Gandalf. Frodo's reply is so quiet I can barely hear it over the rushing of the river.
"I fear it may be so with mine," He draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Oh, there is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same, for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?"
But Gandalf does not answer. He just looks very sad and thoughtful, then nudges Shadowfax and the magnificent silver steed plunges into the Ford. I wait for my master to be ready before crossing.
At last, Frodo clicks his tongue and rides into the water. But he's still shivering in the saddle, and somehow I know this isn't the end of it. It's not fair for him to have to suffer so much when he's done so much more for Middle Earth than any other. I want to help him, comfort him, stop him from feeling so much pain. But what can I do?
As we reach the bank and struggle up it – it's steeper than it looked from the other side – I pause and turn back to look at him, and he smiles at my concern. It's the beautiful smile I have learned to love so much, the smile I want him to keep forever, just so that the whole world can see it.
"Walk on, Strider," he murmurs in my ear, and pats my neck with his right hand, the four fingers tracing slowly down my coat.
* * * * *
Underlined text taken from "Homeward Bound" The Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien
If anyone has any good ideas about other scenes I could do from a different perspective to normal, please suggest and I'll see if I can do it. I have a couple more ideas, but they need a bit more work yet...