In Dreams
Chapter 1- "Light"March 13th 1421
The air was crisp and cool as dawn drew away the sheets of darkness. The sunlight caught the gleam of Galadriel's locks and the water of the harbor alike. The shimmer burned Frodo's eyes. Everything was bright; the water of Gray Havens, the bodies of the Elvish lords, Gandalf's white robes… even the shimmer of tears on Sam's face.
"Galad*!" Frodo awoke with a start. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. The gaping hole that was once his middle finger slowly came into focus and he lurched backward bumping his head on the headboard. He winced in pain both from the bump and from remembrance. Drenched with sweat, his clothes stuck to him like wet paper. His small skeleton pressed against his skin for all to see. Even the most well to do clothes couldn't hide his ribs. Reluctantly, he lit a candle and waited. Sure enough footsteps came thundering down the hall and Sam burst into the room
"Mr. Frodo, are you alright?! I heard a shout," Sam could barely say the entire line with one breath.
"I'm fine, Sam," Frodo replied, silently cursing himself for being such a noisy dreamer. "It was just a dream, I'm alright now," he looked reassuringly at his faithful servant, "There's no need for alarm."
"Thank the Stars," Sam said as he heaved a sigh of relief and sat down in a chair by the door.
Even after all they had been through together Frodo still expected Sam to one day reach his limit of patience. He had been a burden for so long.
"I'll try to be more quiet," Frodo said. Sam looked up with an unreadable expression. It was the mix of too many emotions: fear, sadness, care, but most prevalent was the feeling of inadequacy. He couldn't heal his master; he couldn't even get him through a restful night.
"It's late, get some sleep," Frodo interrupted Sam's thoughts. He could see the pain on his friend's face.
As usual, Sam couldn't put his feelings into words, and instead said, "My service knows no hours, Sir," and quietly shut the door behind him.
There was a word that could describe Frodo's condition… empty. When he was at his best his heart hurt; at his worst he felt nothing. He was an empty vacant shell.
"Where had Frodo gone?" Sam would ask himself, "Where had the joyful light in him gone?"
~*~*~
Frodo buried his pain in the emptiness, and then threw his legs over the side of the bed. His head was in his hands. Soon the sun would peak out over the hill.
"I'm awake," he said out loud and stood up.
He avoided the mirror as he dressed. Then he took the candle from the bedside and stepped quietly out into the hall. He still slept in the master bedroom of Bag-End despite his attempts to give it to Sam and Rosie. He could vividly remember the scene at the Moon-After** party of their wedding. Sam and Rosie stood in the summer starlight and toasted Frodo's health and generosity. Frodo had looked sheepish to the other guests, but in truth it wasn't the many "thank-you's" that put him off his ease. He could already sense the begging that would take place. He felt so out of place in all the merriment and simple pleasures. His life had been that of utter darkness, and now he was home and around those that took for granted everything they had. Perhaps he had been foolish in returning at all.
He continued down the hall as quietly as a hobbit could (which was very quiet). After rejecting the gift of his room he had tried to persuade them to at least take the main guest room. It was the room that hobbits spend most of their wealth on. But no… not Sam. He would only accept the room in which he had stayed in on his many overnight visits over the years. It was a small room for a maid or a housekeeper.
"Not fit for a hobbit of such value as Sam," Frodo thought and had told him once or twice. But that was Sam for you. He stubbornly refused, as if the act of taking anything from Frodo would physically hurt him. He never accepted anything but the barest minimum in wage for his laborious work at Bag-End.
Of course, unbeknownst to Sam, Frodo would often slip money into his coat pocket as it hung on peg in the hall. Then, as Frodo helped his friend on with his coat as he was leaving, despite Sam's protests… "Twasn't right!" Sam would slip his hand into his pockets and discover the hidden treasure. Sam was never the wiser to Frodo's secret tips. He just stood in amazement, wondering how in the world he could have forgotten that he had left such a considerable sum of money in his pocket.
Frodo, afraid that his face might betray him, had to turn away to hide his secret. Lying was not his strong suit. The money would always show up when Sam was in a particularly hard place. With every discovery, he would turn to Frodo and say… "See Sir, I told you a penny can always find you when you need it."
Frodo would remark on his smart purse, and Sam would be off on his way… whistling down to the market.
Frodo took his own coat from the peg and made his way toward the door. He had one foot out when he remembered something and hurried to the north pantry***. He grabbed on apple, his pipe and some tobacco and thrust them into his pockets. Then, on instinct, he paused with his hand still in his pocket and stood unmoving. A shadow past over his face, then as quickly as it had come, the shadow departed and he was himself again. He shook himself, and then darted out of the door.
He walked for several miles before the sun rose completely beyond the distant hills. Then, he realized that he still wasn't quite back on the rise, and made his way further towards the border of his own country.
"I left myself in some other land," he thought and quickened the pace. Before eight he had reached Buckland and by ten he was at the Hedge that separated his homeland and the Old Forrest. Without a thought, he cut through the Hedge and entered the scene of the beginning of his Quest.
The going was slow at first, the paths had changed their direction slightly, and trees spanning hobbit lifetimes had some how sprung up in the middle of the path whenever he actually found his footway. But soon he could make out the slope that was the center of the Old Forrest, its open glade shining like a green jewel in the mid-day sun. It wouldn't be long now.
In fact after only another hour of hot traveling he sat down amid the white lilies and watched the clouds thunder by. He could see the immensity of the Shire from that point. He sat down and thought about what he was leaving behind. Buckland lay toward the south, Hobbiton toward the West….The West… how his tongue lingered on the word.
"The Place," was the name he gave the spot where he was sitting in his mind. It had a surreal feeling to him. He knew he had been there before but he felt as though he hadn't been there quite at the right time yet. And for this reason he would come to 'The Place' at odd hours, wondering if today would be the day he was waiting for.
But today wasn't it either. He bit into the apple. The tartness caused him to scrunch up his nose and then take another bite.
"Perhaps tomorrow would be the day," he comforted himself with this thought, and then shook his head. He didn't even know what he was waiting for. The colors of the season were all around him, and were unusually beautiful on that sunny morning. But he did not appreciate them. To Frodo, they seemed like different shades of gray.
"I thought I would find you here," came a familiar, gruff voice from behind.
Frodo spun around startled and his apple hit the ground. "Gandalf!"
"Yes," The wizard said, putting a hand on the hobbits shoulder, "It is me."
"Where'd you come from? I-I-,"
"You came here to be alone? I know." Gandalf said, peering at Frodo from under his bushy eyebrows. He took a step toward Frodo and seated himself on a large fallen tree. Frodo stumbled backward, caught himself, and then found his seat from before.
"I've been trying to get in touch with you," the wizard said slowly. Frodo felt the Baggins in him stir. The words, 'A letter would suffice,' entered his mind, but he dismissed them.
"No, I had to see you in person," Gandalf replied as if he could read the hobbits mind at that moment. Frodo's eyes widened, he didn't move.
"Your dream is the truth," Gandalf said standing up again. Frodo jumped up beside him.
"But-,"
"I'll see you in September," he said, and then the wizard vanished with a clap of light. Frodo stood staring into the empty space with his mouth agape. Then, he perked up his ears at a familiar sound. Amazingly, he could hear the ocean, even though he was an eight-day journey inland.