Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings.
Author's Comments: If you haven't read the originals, I strongly recommend that you do!
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Chapter 2
Departure from Eldamar
Frodo again woke with a start, his sharp eyes adjusting immediately to the dim light. He sat up, put the phial of Galadriel on his bed, and got out of his bed. He hoped that he was not late for the departure for Middle-earth. Being woken up, and going back to sleep, had thrown his sense of time off. Quickly he went to his closet, and pulled out his maroon-brown jacket, and threw it on overtop of his clothes. All of his possessions had been lost during his journey, but had been somehow retrieved and returned to him before the departure from Middle-earth.
The one thing that he was especially glad that had been returned to him was his grey Lórien cloak, which he pulled down from the closet. The Lórien cloak was made of a silky material that was surprisingly warm, and could camouflage with most environments. He unpinned the leaf broach, and ran his fingers over his name engraved in the back, and then put the cloak on over his jacket, and fastened it with the broach.
The hobbit picked up his pack and put it onto his slim shoulders. He was now ready to return to Middle-earth, and prepared for the journey that he dreaded to take, but knew that he must take, the black road to Mordor, to the dwelling of the Shadow, to the unspeakable Evil lurking in the great tower of Barad-dûr, to The Land of Sauron.
Frodo glanced outside and saw that the sun was just beginning to raise her head above the horizon, and muttered quietly, "Galadriel said to be ready by dawn." With this being said he left the hobbit-hole and headed to the crystal filled lake in the middle of the silver field. Frodo could see the white boats that the elves had traveled to The Undying Lands bobbing gently upon its glassy surface. He spotted Eáránë amidst the throng of eves and picked his way towards her. He noted that Eáránë and many of the other elves were cloaked. Over her black dress, Eáránë was wearing a grey Lórien cloak fastened with a delicate leaf brooch just as he was.
"Hello Eáránë," Frodo said when he was close enough to the elf. She turned, looked down at him and smiled.
"Hello Frodo," she returned and the hobbit again felt an increase in his pulse and respiration. "Are you ready to leave? It is a perilous time that lies ahead of us, especially for you."
"I'm determined to complete my task," Frodo replied.
Gently Eáránë placed her hands on Frodo's shoulders and led him to one of the boats. Frodo looked up at the vessel with its one lantern on the bow shining softly through the ascending mist. The side of the boat was just below eye-level for the Halfling, and Frodo could see Athelas on deck and some five other elves that he did not recognize.
"Athelas the Ring-bearer needs assistance," Eáránë said softly and the elf came to the side of the boat and lifted Frodo onto the vessel. The hobbit took a seat and Eáránë lowered herself gracefully down beside him. The water was as still as glass as the vessels began their departure from the shore. Frodo could see nothing but silver mist at first. But then the presence of some hundred other boats were pronounced by the appearance of their lamps. Though he was surrounded by the presence of thousands of other elves, loneliness began to creep upon his soul. Gradually his weariness overcame him and he slowly fell asleep.
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Frodo woke to ice-cold rain hammering down upon his face. He could hear anxious voices saying, "We are being blown off of our course!" Frodo opened his eyes to see Athelas tugging at the white sails of the boat. Abruptly a wave swept across the deck and Frodo felt the impact push him into the sea. He struggled to the surface of the water and clung on to the side of the boat. Another wave hit and Frodo felt the slippery wood wrench away from his fingertips. He cried out in terror as another wave washed over him. As he sank he felt something moving against his leg. Desperately Frodo tried to swim to the surface. The turbulent water crashed him against the side of the boat and he felt someone grab his wrist and pull him on board. Frodo got unsteadily to his feet and began to help pull the sails down. The minutes passed as though they were hours as they battled against the storm.
Gradually the wind died down. The waves calmed and the pouring rain became light drizzle, and then finally passed altogether. Frodo glanced over the side of the boat. All around them was water. There was no sign of any of the other vessels.
"Is everyone alright?" Athelas asked.
"All are present and accounted for," Eáránë replied and she turned to look at Frodo. "You were almost lost Ring-bearer." She said softly, gently placing her hand on his cheek. Frodo felt his face become hot. "We feared the worst when the waters claimed you. Thankfully Athelas heard your plea for help and managed to rescue you from the cruel depths of the sea." The hobbit felt the blood drain from his cheeks as he remembered how he had felt something moving against his leg. Eáránë saw the hobbit's face become pale. "What is wrong Frodo?" She asked concern evident in her voice.
"There's something down there," Frodo said softly. The elves all looked over the edge of the boat warily.
"Let us not worry ourselves with what creatures roam the depths of these waters," one of the elves that Frodo had seen Eáránë speaking with suggested. "In the meantime we are approaching land." Frodo looked up and saw the shore of Middle-earth coming towards them.
When the vessel was close enough to the shore, Athelas jumped out and began to push the boat onto the bank. The remainder of the elves glided from the boat. Frodo climbed onto the bench, which he had been seated upon and went to the edge of the boat. Awkwardly he attempted to clamber over the side of the boat but he lost his footing and fell headlong into Eáránë's arms. Time seemed to stop. Frodo could feel her hands against his back, and he could feel her cool skin underneath his palms and realized with shock that his hands were pressed against the skin of her upper chest. The elf placed him gently to the ground and pulled gracefully away from him.
"Where is everybody?" Frodo asked at length. The shore was empty as they stood upon it, and there were no signs of boats on the horizon. "Do you think the others are alright?" He asked.
"Those ships have capable captains," Eáránë replied. "They will make their way here in time."
"Let us move on," Athelas suggested. "Leave the boat as a sign that we have arrived. We will meet the others in the Shire."
"How'll they know where we've headed?" Frodo asked.
"The elves have their ways of knowing these things Frodo," Eáránë replied mysteriously.
"We should get going before it gets dark," interrupted Athelas. "Where are we going to stay until the rest of our kin arrives?"
"I know someone who'll welcome us," Frodo replied softly.
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Sam Gamgee was sitting at the table in the kitchen. Rose had polished this table only yesterday so it gleamed proudly. Around the table sat Rose and Sam's children. Frodo, who Sam had named after his friend, and master, Frodo Baggins, had turned fifteen, and didn't know what to think of it. Rose, who had been named after her mother, Rose Cotton, had turned thirteen, and was very proud of it. Merry, who was named after Meriadoc Brandybuck, liked to boast that he was eleven to his younger brother Pippin, who had been named after Peregrin Took, who was nine. Goldilocks was seven, and Hamfast was a year younger than she, being six, and Daisy was a year younger than he, being five. Primrose was three, and quite a pretty little thing. Bilbo, who was named after Bilbo Baggins, was only one, and was certainly giving his mother a difficult time. Elanor was the eldest. She had turned seventeen and spent a lot of time with her friend Rosie-Posie. Now was one of those times. All of Sam's children were lovely, and he loved them immensely.
The family was happily seated around the shiny table enjoying their fourth cake for supper, when a loud knock banged through the hall. Sam got up, and trotted to the door. He was not expecting anyone, and he was especially not expecting what stood on his welcome mat. Ten figures hooded and cloaked stood in front of him. One was about the same size as he was, but the others towered well above him. Sam immediately adapted his mayor stance.
"Welcome to the Shire," he said politely. "I'm Mayor Gamgee, what can I do for you?"
"You can give us a place to stay," replied one of the figures.
"Now see here," said Sam, a bit taken aback by the figure's upfront manor. "I can't just let you waltz into the place that my master left me. It's not how things are done you see, and besides I don't even know who you are."
"That is of no consequence," the figure replied. "One of our companions said that you would be happy to have us."
"Oh did they now?" Sam challenged. "Well I'm afraid that your companion's mistaken, and a fool at that."
"How dare you speak of my companion in this manor!" the figure's male voice raised in anger.
"It's alright Athelas," the figure directly in front of Sam spoke, and the voice was painfully familiar to the hobbit, but he could not quite place where it was that he would have heard it. "The companion can speak for himself." And he reached up and pulled back his hood. Sam's eyes widened as he recognized the hobbit in front of him.
"Mr. Frodo?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion. A slight smile broke the other's solemn face.
"Hello Sam," he replied.
"Frodo," Sam exclaimed, and threw his arms around the other, and held him tightly. Frodo returned his friend's embrace."Come in all of you," Sam insisted. "Please come in. You'll have to forgive my rudeness. I didn't know who you were."
"You're forgiven Sam," Frodo assured him, and the rest of the figures trooped in onto the rug, one by one pulling back their hoods, and revealing their faces.
"Elves," Sam exclaimed in puzzled astonishment. "But I thought they left."
"They did Sam," Frodo answered. "But there will be an explanation for their actions."
By this time, Primrose, who was the most curious because of her young age, had poked her head around the corner of the hallway. When the hobbit-child saw the nine elves standing upon the rug, she gave a small scream and fled.
"What was that?" one of the elves asked.
"Just a hobbit-child Athelas," an elven woman replied. "The poor thing must have never seen elves before."
"I've told all my children about the elves," Sam replied. "But they've never seen elves, so naturally they're frightened."
"Frodo," Rose inquired, and she came forward.
"Hello Rosie," Frodo said with a smile. Rose's eyes lit up, and she threw her arms around him. She was dressed in a blue frock that Frodo remembered seeing her in at Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday.
"Welcome back Frodo," she said warmly. "Welcome all of you. Please remove your cloaks, and make yourselves comfortable!"
"You can hang your cloaks on the hooks," Frodo gestured to some hooks on the wall.
"You know this place very well Frodo," noted Athelas. Frodo smiled sadly.
"That's because I used to live here Athelas," he explained, "a long time ago. This is Bag End. I left it in Sam's care when I left for The Undying Lands."
Bag End was famous throughout Hobbiton, an area in the Shire known for its respectable hobbits. Bilbo's father, Mr. Bungo Baggins, had built it for his wife, Belladonna Took. It was the most luxurious hobbit-hole in the Shire. The Bagginses had lived very comfortably in that hobbit-hole for many years, and that was how it had acquired the name Bag End.
The elves removed their cloaks, and soon three silvery-purple cloaks and six grey cloaks hung on the wall. Frodo removed his pack and hung it onto one of the hooks. He also removed his Lórien cloak and his jacket, and hung them on the same hook.
"Come into the parlour," Sam insisted. The elves and Frodo followed Sam into the parlour, and Sam had to fetch some more chairs, but soon all of the elves were seated by the fire. Rose joined him carrying an infant, and eventually the rest of the family came into the parlour.
"Quite a family you have got here," Athelas said with a mischievous smile. "Been busy these past few years have you?" Sam flushed a deep red. The elf laughed gaily.
"Athelas that wasn't polite," Frodo lectured the elf. He turned to Sam. "You'll have to forgive Athelas. He doesn't know the ways of the world."
"That's alright Mr. Frodo," Sam muttered, still red. "I'd like to introduce you to my family. This is Bilbo our youngest."
"And how old are you," Frodo asked the youngster. Bilbo had blonde fuzz and deep-blue eyes. The infant gurgled and grinned toothlessly up at the hobbit.
"He's one," replied Rose.
"I'm three," and a pretty little hobbit-lass in a violet frock came forward. Her hair was dark-blonde like her mother's, and she had light brown eyes.
"And what's your name?" Frodo asked gently.
"Primrose," she returned.
"That's a pretty name," Frodo smiled. "It suits you." Primrose laughed and smiled up at him.
"My name's Daisy," the speaker was dressed in a yellow frock and she had light-brown hair, and light blue eyes. "I'm five."
"Hello Daisy," said Frodo. "I'm Frodo."
"You have a nice name," said Daisy.
"Thank-you," Frodo laughed.
"My name's Hamfast," a hobbit-lad with dirty-blonde hair and sparkling-blue eyes dressed in a white shirt, green vest, and brown breeches said proudly. "I'm six."
"My name's Goldilocks," another girl came forward. She was dressed in red had strawberry-blonde hair, and light-blue eyes. "I'm seven."
"Goldilocks," Frodo repeated softly. "That name suits you. Your hair almost looks golden."
"Thank-you," Goldilocks grinned.
"I'm nine," said a boy with white-blonde hair, and dark-blue eyes. He was dressed simply in brown breeches and a white shirt.
"I'm still older than you," said another boy with brown hair, and brown eyes, in a mocking tone. "You know Pippin, no matter how old you get you're never going to catch up with me." He was dressed identically to his brother, to the seeming annoyance of the other.
"That's not nice Merry," Sam scolded his son. "Just because you're eleven gives you no right to hassle your brother."
"I'm thirteen," said a girl the splitting image of her mother quietly, edging forward shyly. "My name's Rose." She like her mother was dressed in a pretty blue frock.
"That could get confusing," Frodo said with a laugh. "Not only do you look like your mother, but you're also named after her. You're very pretty." He smiled at her, and the young Rose blushed.
"And this," said Sam proudly presenting a boy dressed in brown breeches, a white shirt, blue vest, with dark-blond hair, and bright blue eyes, "is Frodo." Frodo laughed.
"You finally got your wish didn't you Sam?" he smiled.
"Yes I did Mr. Frodo," answered Sam happily. Frodo's sharp hearing caught the sound of the door opening, and in came a young hobbit-woman with golden-blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a golden dress. She looked at the elves and stopped dead in her tracks.
"Dad are these elves?" the hobbit asked wonderstruck.
"Yes," Sam nodded, "from Eldamar."
"The Undying Lands," she breathed. She turned and looked at Frodo and her eyes widened. "Uncle Frodo?" She asked excitedly.
"Hello Elanor," Frodo smiled at her. Elanor ran to him, and embraced him.
"Dad's told me so much about you," she said. "I was afraid I'd never get the chance to meet you." She pulled back.
Sam began to stand up, "If you two don't mind standing momentarily." He said. "I'll go get chairs for you."
"Are the chairs still kept in the same place Sam?" Frodo asked. Sam started, and then laughed.
"Why yes Mr. Frodo," He beamed. "I haven't changed a thing since you left Bag-End to me."
"I'll get the chairs then," Frodo volunteered, and he stood up. As he passed out of the parlour, he could not help but smile to himself. Sam had been true to his word. Not a thing had been changed since Frodo had lived in Bag-End.
Despite this fact, Frodo did have to jog his memory a little as to where to find the chairs. It had after all been seventeen years since he had been in Bag-End, and his memory was a little rusty. He did find the chairs eventually, and returned to the parlour.
"I still can't believe that the elves have come back," Elanor's excited voice could be heard from inside the room.
"You probably should not be so excited," Eáránë's voice was grim. "The Time of the Elves is over."
"Then why are you in Middle-earth?" Elanor asked excitedly.
"Yes why are you in Middle-earth?" Sam's tone was a bit more hesitant then that of his daughter.
"Because the Ring wasn't destroyed Sam," Frodo replied as he entered the room. A heaviness descended that could have been sliced with a knife. Frodo placed the two chairs down for Elanor, and Rosie-Posie.
"What," Sam asked, his voice trembling. Frodo looked up at him, his large blue eyes hard.
"I failed Sam," he replied. "The Ring wasn't destroyed." He paused. "I can feel it."
"So that's why you're here," Sam's face was white, "to fight against the armies of Sauron when they arise." The elves nodded in unison. "And I thought the horror was over."
"I'm sorry Sam," Frodo's soft voice quavered with emotion.
"Sam," Rose interrupted softly. "The children need to be put to bed."
"Of course Rose, my love," Sam immediately set aside his grief. "My, the time's flown hasn't it? Dear me, how late has it become?"
"Not very late Sam, but I don't think that such a topic is suitable for children," Rose explained and she turned to Elanor. "That includes you." She said firmly. "You may find what's transpired in the morning."
"Do you need any help Sam?" Frodo asked.
"Actually that'd be great Mr. Frodo," Sam smiled sheepishly. "Sometimes it takes an hour to get these mischievous little ones into bed." The children giggled.
"We will assist you," Eáránë suggested. "Things will go much faster that way, and therefore will enable us to discuss these matters later." Athelas stood up, carrying Merry on his back. Eáránë ushered a delighted Goldilocks out of the room, and was followed by Athelas. Other elves escorted the remainder of the children out of the room.
"Can I show you my room?" Frodo turned and looked at Sam's eldest son. The younger Frodo gazed at him intently.
"Of course," Frodo obliged, and he smiled at the teen. The other smiled, and led him into the hallway.
"I wanted your room actually," he said. "But Dad said no one could have it. I guess he was hoping you'd come back, then you'd have your old room back." Frodo smiled at Sam's thoughtfulness. "I suppose it was a way of denial for Dad." The teen continued, and he looked at Frodo. "Sort of a way of preserving you, you know?"
"Sam went through a lot," Frodo replied quietly. "I put him through a lot. I'm surprised that he wanted to preserve me."
"Well you were his closest friend," the other interjected, and opened the door to a room that Frodo had not seen in years. It was his old room. Frodo felt his heart twist painfully. It was just the way that he had left it all those years ago.
"My room is just down the hall," Frodo Gamgee explained. The Ring-bearer followed him slowly. He looked at the teen, and his heart twisted again. Such innocence he had once possessed as well, and now he had become only a shadow. The teen gave Frodo a tour of his room. It was filled with things that a hobbit-lad of that age would possess. Frodo's heart ached with a pain that he did not quite understand.
"Tell me about the Ring," the younger Frodo pleaded. The Ring-bearer looked at him through hardened eyes and the teen flinched slightly. Frodo sighed, and allowed a slight smile to lighten his features.
It was torture for him to re-tell the horrors of his life, but he did it to the best of his ability. He actually enjoyed telling his story to the younger Frodo. The teen would gasp, and laugh, and cry at all the appropriate times. The time slipped by and Frodo noticed that the teen had fallen into a deep sleep. He looked down upon the other and his heart ached painfully.
"That must have been difficult," Frodo jumped at Eáránë's voice. He could not help but wonder how long she had been standing there.
"How long were you listening?" he asked, he voice cracked.
"Long enough," she replied. Frodo turned to face her, and was surprised to see that his vision was blurred slightly. "What is wrong?" She asked gently.
"I don't know," he answered softly. He looked at the sleeping hobbit, and then at the elf. "It hurts to see them." He lowered his eyes. "I was like them once. And now…" Unable to continue, Frodo choked slightly, and turned away from the elf. Eáránë glided over to him, and gently put her slender hand on his quivering shoulder.
"Come," she said softly. And she led him out of the room. His pain remained with him as he entered the parlour where the elves were seated.
"You have wonderful children Sam," he said.
"Well thank-you Mr. Frodo," Sam beamed. "I'm inclined to agree with you." His tone became a bit darker. "Now what's this about the Ring?"
"Gollum survived," Frodo explained.
"Ah, Stinker," Sam snorted, "but how?"
"Such information is not pertinent," Eáránë replied shortly. "What matters is that the Ring is still in this world, and something must be done."
"Well it only makes sense that as much of the Fellowship of the Ring is assembled," exclaimed Sam.
"I don't ask you to come with me Sam," Frodo said quickly. "With what I put you through before…"
"I made a promise Mr. Frodo," Sam insisted. "'Don't you lose him Samwise Gamgee,' and I don't mean to Mr. Frodo, I don't mean to."
"Thank-you Sam," Frodo meant his words.
"Shouldn't there be more elves than this?" Sam asked.
"Yes, they all got lost coming here," replied Athelas. "There was a storm."
"Well we should go and talk to Merry, and Pippin Mr. Frodo," Sam suggested. "In the meantime I think sleep is in order. Hopefully Middle-earth is ready this time."
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Frodo did not sleep that night. He lay awake clutching the phial of Galadriel to his breast. He knew that he should at least try to get some sleep, but he could not. He lay awake, and thought about what lay before him. The time went by painfully slowly and yet too quickly. The Halfling had just closed his eyes when he heard a loud knocking on the front door. Quietly he got up, walked to the door, and opened it.
"Frodo, I thought I would find you here," an old weatherworn man dressed in great robes of white under a cloak of grey stood on the welcome mat. He was holding a white wooden staff, and his keen eyes burned under his bushy eyebrows, and his crooked nose cast a queer shadow onto his face.
"Gandalf," Frodo gave the wizard a hug.
"Did you get any rest at all?" Gandalf the White asked. He seemed harmless, but could be quite terrible and threatening when the need was called for. Frodo shook his head, and Gandalf frowned as he stooped and entered the hobbit-hole.
"What's all this banging?" Sam asked yawning widely.
"Well, well," the wizard smiled. "Samwise Gamgee, Mayor of the Shire. Such a meeting I did not expect."
"Mr. Gandalf, sir?" Sam asked his eyes widening.
Soon a chorus of children's voices cried out, "Gandalf, it's Gandalf!"
"My, word does spread fast here doesn't it?" Gandalf asked as Sam's children stood awe-struck before him.
"Well I've told them about your fireworks see…" Sam began.
"Fireworks, fireworks!" the hobbit-children cheered.
"Confound you for your big mouth," the wizard exclaimed with affection.
"What's all this noise?" asked Elanor. When she saw Gandalf she stopped and stood staring, her mouths hanging open.
"It is not polite to stand with your mouth hanging in such a fashion," Gandalf said. There was a snap as the hobbit-lass shut her mouths.
"Gandalf," Eáránë came forward. "Have the others arrived as well?"
Most of them," the wizard replied. "In fact." Here he threw an amused glance at Sam. "The elves are causing a lot of curiosity from the Shirelings."
"Oh dear," Sam sighed. "This is going to be difficult to explain. I suppose we'd better go and talk with Merry and Pippin now." Frodo nodded, and fetched his jacket from the parlour.
Soon he and Sam were walking along the dirt road through the Shire. The eyes of Halfling darted here and there taking in everything possible. Sam led him to a hobbit-hole and around the fence surrounding the hole was a small sign saying "Residence of Took". Frodo started, the sign was identical to the one he had seen in his dream, and he had never seen Pippin's hobbit-hole. Rather shakily, he followed Sam to the door.
"What is it Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked anxiously.
"Oh it's nothing Sam, don't worry about it," Frodo tried to assure his friend. Sam gave him a worried glance, and then knocked upon the door.
"Hold on I'll be right with you," came a heavily accented voice from within. Soon the door opened, and a hobbit with curly straw-coloured hair stood in front of them. He was dressed in a white shirt and brown breeches and of course was taller than the other two hobbits due to the droughts of entwash, and so looked down upon them with a slightly frazzled expression.
"Hello Sam," the hobbit seized Sam's hand, and pumped it energetically. Frodo watched silently. This of course was Peregrin Took, better known as Pippin. Frodo waited quietly for an opportunity to speak.
"Hello Pippin," he said softly. Pippin looked over at him, and his eyes widened.
"Frodo," he squealed excitedly, "what're you doing here?"
"May we come in Pippin?" Sam asked. "This isn't a matter to be discussed outdoors."
"Of course," Pippin laughed, "how rude of me. Merry's here as well, and you can meet Diamond."
"The fact that Merry's here will save us a trip," Frodo replied softly. Pippin shut the door behind them, and again Frodo was unnerved by how similar the hobbit-hole was to how it had appeared in his dream.
"Look who's here Merry," Pippin could barely contain his excitement, as he ushered the two hobbits into the sitting-room. Sitting on the couch in the parlour was another hobbit with curly straw-coloured hair. He was clothed in brown breeches, and a yellow vest, and his blue eyes sparkled happily. Beside him was seated a striking hobbit in a crimson frock. She had long curly dark-brown hair, and dark brown eyes. Her features were proud, but soft simultaneously. Beside her was seated a pleasantly plump hobbit-woman, dressed in a pink frock. Her hair and eyes were of the same colour as her female companion.
"I don't know why you're here Mayor," said Meriadoc Brandybuck with a mischievous smile. "But whatever the reason is, I didn't do it." Sam laughed good-naturedly. Merry looked at Frodo and his laughter ceased immediately. "It can't be." He whispered, and studied Frodo.
"I don't mean to interrupt," said the plump woman on the couch. "But I don't believe that I'm acquainted to this hobbit."
"What a forgetful sought I am," Pippin exclaimed shaking his head, and turned to Frodo. "Frodo this is my wife Diamond of Long Cleeve. Diamond this is Frodo Baggins."
"The Frodo Baggins," Diamond asked as she stood.
"I'm the Ring-bearer if that's what you're asking," replied Frodo with a slight smile on his solemn face.
"Pleasure," Diamond breathed excitedly, and shook his hand energetically. "I'm very pleased to finally meet you. Pippin's told me so much about you." She looked down at his hand. "But you aren't nine-fingered as is said in the stories."
"Eáránë fixed my hand," Frodo explained. "She thought that having all of my fingers would be preferred."
"Who's Eáránë?" asked Merry, and Frodo felt a wave of an emotion that he could not quite identify, but it involved him feeling angry at Merry.
"She's a Lórien elf," he replied shortly.
"Elves," the other hobbit leaned forward in her spot on the couch. "Are they as beautiful as I've been told?"
"Estella let our guests sit," laughed Pippin, and he gestured Sam and Frodo to the couch. The two hobbits sat down.
"Estella Bolger is my wife," Merry placed his arm around her waist. Estella smiled affectionately at him.
"The elves are like the moon," Frodo answered Estella. "They're very mysterious, sad, and fair. They are immortal to sickness, and death of natural causes. But for that, they must walk the paths of this world for all eternity."
"I'd love to see elves," Diamond breathed. "They sound so mystical, and yet foreboding in a way."
"They have powers that I'll never understand," Frodo agreed. "But if you'd like, I can introduce you to Eáránë."
"Oh yes please," Diamond's and Estella's eyes sparkled.
"Pippin," Sam changed the subject rather abruptly, which Frodo did not mind. The price of the elves returning was too high, and so many of Middle-earth's inhabitants were naive to this fact. "What's the deal with your son always coming to my house, and then running off?"
"Don't you know?" asked Pippin. "Faramir has a crush on Goldilocks."
"A crush?" exclaimed Sam. "He's only eight!"
"Yes well, that's not stopping him," Pippin laughed. Frodo watched the conversation unfold, and abruptly felt very detached. His heart ached painfully, and a sense of fury took him. He seethed that they were able to carry on with their normal lives while he suffered day-in, and day out. He knew that it was not their fault. He had chosen to take the Ring. It had been his burden, his curse, his sacrifice. Frodo wanted to weep
"I can't believe that you're back," Merry's voice held confusion. "You left for the Undying Lands. I thought you were never coming back."
"I shouldn't be back," replied Frodo sullenly. "But the fact of the matter is that the Ring of Power wasn't destroyed."
"What?" both Merry and Pippin exclaimed in unison.
"The War for Middle-earth has only begun," Frodo replied.
"I felt that as much of the original Fellowship of the Ring should be gathered together," pitched in Sam.
"But this, this can't be happening," Merry's voice shook with fear. "There are so many responsibilities that I'm entitled to. I'm the Master of Buckland. My responsibility really should be…"
"Your affairs are your own to decide," Frodo said coolly.
"I'm sorry Frodo. I don't have anyone to hold the spot for me…" Merry tried to explain. Frodo's eyes flashed angrily, and Merry flinched away from him and tried pathetically to justify his reasons. "Otherwise I'd go with you. I really would."
"This is the fate of Middle-earth that we're talking about!" Frodo's voice began to rise with anger. "And you're worried about keeping up your stance as Master of Buckland?" Merry shifted uncomfortably. "Besides, couldn't your wife hold the spot for you?"
"Well I uh, I sort of uh," Merry spluttered momentarily and then gave up.
Frodo turned and gazed imploringly at Pippin, "I need to stay with Diamond and Faramir." Pippin's voice shook with fear. Frodo sighed, but did not move.
"Your son is eight years old," his voice was quiet. "I doubt that your wife needs help with an eight year old boy. I thought you said that you would have to be tied up in sacks to be stopped from coming."
"Circumstances change," Pippin tried to explain. "I'd be too afraid of not coming back for my son or wife. That would scar them for life." Diamond put her arms around her husband protectively.
"Mr. Frodo, I'm sure that they have their reasons," Sam stood and put a restraining hand on Frodo's shoulder. "They fought bravely during the last war, isn't that enough?"
"Yes," pitched in Pippin. "We all did our parts in the War for Middle-earth. You carried the Ring of Power, and we fought the armies of Sauron."
"It was my task," Frodo said intensely.
"Mr. Frodo, please," Sam pleaded. "Listen to yourself." Frodo glared at him, and realised to the fullest extent what he had just said, and done. His heart filled with pain as his friends looked at him as though at some beast that they were disgusted to set eyes upon. Unable to bear it, he turned and fled from the room.
Blindly he ran through the hall of the hobbit-hole, threw open the door, and fled to the sanctuary of the outside. The temperature was cool enough that he could see his breath, and he stood rigidly as the mist escaped from his lips. He did not feel the cold. All he could feel was the emptiness in his heart.
"You shouldn't be out here Mr. Frodo," Frodo could hear Sam coming up behind him. "You'll catch your death out here." Frodo quietly accepted his jacket from Sam, and noted painfully that the other was watching him warily as though he expected him to suddenly lash out again.
"I'm sorry Sam," he truly meant his words. "I suppose even after seventeen years, the Ring still has a pretty strong hold on me."
"It's alright Mr. Frodo, I understand," Sam empathised. "But how're you going to survive with your illnesses, and pains?"
"I'll find a way," Frodo replied quietly. "I must." And they headed back to Bag End.