Spirals by Northern Wolfwillow

CHAPTER FOUR

Darkness

Sam perched uncomfortably on the edge of his chair at Frodo's bedside. He glanced back at Gandalf, who had positioned his chair at the foot of Frodo's bed. While Gandalf reclined in his chair, arms crossed, frowning at the ceiling, Sam was hunched forward, his whole body tense, his eyes on Frodo's face, waiting for him to wake up. I can't believe that I spent so much time today tending a tree when my best friend … He stopped. Sam had no idea what his friend had been going through today or any of the past few days. He had spent time with every other member of the Fellowship in the last few days, but not Frodo.

It had only been an hour since Sam had been awakened by voices in Frodo's chamber. He had entered Frodo's room by way of the balcony. Faramir was recounting for Gandalf how he had spoken with Frodo, but just after Frodo had left the Citadel, Faramir had heard him cry out. By the time he had arrived in the corridor, he found Frodo unconscious in one of the castle corridors, and had then carried him here.

For a very long time, the hobbit and the wizard had sat vigil in silence. Sam had tried to understand what Faramir had said about his encounter with Frodo. Seeing things, hearing things – how horrible! With the Ring gone, I thought Frodo had left all that behind him in Mordor. And then all these same thoughts circled once more through Sam's mind, bringing him no closer to any idea of what he could do to help Frodo.

Sam was focusing so intently on Frodo's face that Gandalf's voice startled him. "Hmmm, from across the Citadel Faramir heard Frodo cry out … something – what? -two words perhaps - 'Deel' and 'Yah.' Or one word? Diehlya? Dilyah? It may help us understand what's happening to Frodo if we could just understand the word he said, but it is as if I am once again standing outside the Gates of Moria. I cannot find the word that will open this door for me. What was Frodo saying? If it is a thing, it is a word from no language I recognize; if it is a place name, it is not somewhere I have visited in all my lifetimes."

Sam turned back once more to Frodo and tried desperately to think what the word might be. He struck on the only word that he thought sounded similar, "Gandalf, do you think Frodo could have been saying Dahlia?"

Gandalf brightened a bit, "Dahlia. Good. A flower, but also a woman's name. Who is this woman, Sam?"

Sam's enthusiasm faded. "I don't know. I mean, it's a popular name for girls in the Shire, but I can't think of anyone by that name that Frodo knows very well." He cast around in his mind, looking for something to hold onto, looking for something he could do that would help. "Gandalf, I'll go find Merry and Pippin. Frodo's kin might know. I'll go right now." He pushed himself forward and down off the chair.

And there it was again. Sam cringed inwardly as he realized he was relieved that he had an excuse to leave because he couldn't face another minute sitting there, not knowing what to do. What kind of person - what kind of friend - would feel relieved at a time like this?

"Very good, Sam. Although it is late, look for the others from the Fellowship too. Perhaps they know something that may help us. I'm convinced that we have to follow wherever this small clue, this name, leads us."

As Sam walked away, he could hear the wizard muttering to himself, "I have been spending so much time with Aragorn that I've missed the signs. I thought Frodo would tell me more when he was ready. I thought there would be more time …"

Frodo heard a familiar voice calling to him – a soft voice that sounded like music - Arwen. "Listen to my voice, Frodo. Come back to the light." And then she said something else – and it almost sounded like a prayer, "What grace I have, let it pass to him." It was an echo of something he had heard before and had forgotten.

He made himself come back. As he fought his way back to the waking world, he felt the familiar weight of guilt and recriminations fall back on him, but now there was a new and terrible thought. He wondered what Arwen had given up for him. What had helping him cost her?

He sat up in his bed, his heart pounding. Frodo pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and laid his head down. As he sat there, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He knew he was no longer alone in the guest room in Minas Tirith. He raised his head slowly, and before him stood Arwen, at the foot of his bed. She was wearing a bright, white gown. Moonlight was shining through the window behind her, so he could see only the outline of her face.

And then she moved, and with the light was no longer in his eyes, he saw he wasn't facing a window but a wall. On the wall across from his bed was a portrait of Arwen in a white gown – no it wasn't - because as he watched, somehow, it changed into a portrait of a little girl wearing a white sundress, the same little girl he had been seeing all day and again this night near the Citadel– a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes, like Arwen, like ... who? Who is she?

Then the colors in the portrait faded to white until all that was left was a sketch of the girl – charcoal lines on bright white paper. But something was wrong. Frodo could smell smoke – he could see smoke drifting across the sketch. Then the corners of the paper, touched by flame, began to blacken and curl. He threw himself off his bed and ran towards the sketch, but he couldn't reach it although he should have been able to touch it in a step or two, but it was always further ahead of him. No matter how far he ran, she was always still out of his reach. As he ran through the dark, over the rough ground, the only light came from the sparks flying through the air. He tried to breathe but the smoke was too thick. He coughed, choked, and gagged. As he sank to his knees and the rough ground seemed to rise up to meet him. I've failed again. This is where it happens.

"It's all bad news, Gandalf." It was Sam's voice.

Frodo started and raised his head from his pillow, still half asleep, not sure if he was still dreaming. He could just make out two dark figures framed against a dark archway, slowly moving away from him. Then he could hear both Sam and Gandalf on the balcony, speaking in normal voices. He couldn't summon the will to get up, so he lay very still and listened, not entirely sure if the voices were real or part of yet another delusion.

"I found Merry and Pippin, but they couldn't think of anyone named Dahlia that Frodo would know. Gandalf, I found out it's been days since they've seen Frodo. They thought he was with me, and I thought he was with them ... it was gradual, like. We didn't notice 'til we started talking about it. I should have seen something. There has to be something I can do, Gandalf!"

Hearing this, Frodo shut his eyes and groaned inwardly.

"Sam, there is still something you can do, but it will be very difficult."

"Anything!"

"Tell me everything you can about the destruction of the Ring. Tell me what nightmares bring you out onto this balcony night after night. Don't think I haven't noticed, my boy. You have steadfastly refused to talk about what happened in Mount Doom except in the most general way. Maybe something that you both experienced is tearing Frodo away from us now. If I am to help him, you must help me."

Frodo heard the irony in Sam's voice, "White Wizards shouldn't need the help of gardeners for important things like this."

Gandalf sounded bemused as he replied, "Men and wizards, dwarves and elves should not have needed hobbits to defeat an ancient evil, but it turns out they did. Now tell me what is keeping you two apart."

Sam started speaking slowly, "I wish things could be the way they were before. I think about it during the day, and I've had lots of dreams since we were rescued by the Eagles."

Gandalf's voice held a comforting tone; "Tell me about them"

When Sam spoke again, his voice was low, "All right then. The dream … starts out the way it really happened back then - Frodo said the Ring was his, and he put it on his finger."

"At first I thought he had fallen, but he wasn't gone. I could see his footprints.

"When I looked into his eyes as he put on the Ring, there was no one there. Frodo was gone, and he wouldn't be coming back. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't do it. I stopped dead in my tracks because this was my friend. I closed my eyes, and I thought about Rosie, and if one of those foul creatures so much as laid a hand on her … I had to stop that from happening.

"I opened my eyes, watched the footprints appearing in the loose dirt, and gauged where Frodo was, gathered my strength, and … and I threw myself …at my friend. And as my shoulder hit him square on, I wrapped my arms around him to bring him down. And then we were falling. over the edge towards the river of fire below, and the air was so hot, it was hardly air at all, just heat that scorched my skin, my eyes, my throat and seared my lungs – there was just pain. And then it happened - the Ring fell from Frodo's finger – and I can see him again. I looked into his eyes, and … it was Frodo looking back at me, the same Frodo I knew so well – the Frodo I thought that the Ring had destroyed – and he cried out to me, "Why?

"We never reach the fire. I always wake up before that happens."

After a pause, Gandalf spoke again, "A terrible dream, yes, but you did not have to do this thing. You should leave this behind you."

"No, you don't understand. The dream isn't even the worst part. The worst part is when I wake up and remember what really happened – how Gollum stepped in, and in the struggle for the Ring, over they all went - Gollum, Frodo, and the Ring – all over the edge and gone. And what do you think I was feeling as I watched it happen?"

There was only silence.

"What I can't forgive myself for – not now, not ever – is - the relief I felt."

"Relief?"

Sam's voice was strained. "Relief - because I knew in that instant that I wouldn't have to destroy the Ring. What kind of creature would feel relief when he thinks his friend is gone? Don't tell Frodo. I couldn't bear it if he knew!"

"But he does know." Frodo stepped out of the dark doorway of his chamber onto the balcony. Sam turned away to face the darkness beyond the balcony.

Sam swung around to face Frodo, drawing a sharp breath,

"There's more, isn't there?" Gandalf said. "Go on."

Sam clenched his fists, "Isn't it plain enough? Every time Mister Frodo flinches when he moves his left shoulder, I blame myself. The fire I built betrayed our location to the Ringwraiths. Mister Frodo, I almost turned you into one of those creatures because I wanted a hot meal. I was so sure Gollum was a villain. You weren't thinking straight, and I … and I began to wonder when you would turn against me.

"That night when I overheard Gollum's plan to kill us – that night you asked me to trust you – that's the night I stopped. From then on I kept an eye open for Gollum – and for you too. Then I left you at the mercy of that scheming creature. That spider would never have gotten to you if there had been two of us there. You almost died – again. Because I … because I gave up on you."

Frodo moved to stand in front of Sam, and his face had softened from its angry scowl. "Oh, Sam, I couldn't face you because I was so ashamed of what I had done. And here I've hurt you again."

"What do you mean ashamed of what you had done?"

"After all you did for me, all the times you helped me, all the times you did without, fought to save me – after all you did to get me to Mount Doom…that's where I betrayed you." Turning to Gandalf, he said, "I betrayed you all."

"Frodo! It wasn't you, it was the Ring."

"But it was me," said Frodo. "Yes, I know the Ring had power over me. But what happened in Mount Doom was different. The Ring offered me a choice. I embraced it. I wanted what it offered me." He looked up at Gandalf again, "But to choose the Ring meant that I didn't care how many had suffered and died for me so that I could get to that place and destroy the cursed thing!" Frodo turned to look at Sam again, his face twisted in pain, "After all you did for me, and then I made that choice. I'm sorry."

Sam stared at Frodo, "But it wasn't your fault!"

"Sam, you saved me again. I was ready to let go and follow the Ring over the edge, but there you were reaching down, telling me not to let go. It would have been so much easier. To end it there … it would have been right…" Frodo's voice trailed off.

Gandalf sounded perplexed, "How could it have been right? You did reach up to him. And I think you did it for him. If you had let go, he would have been left to grieve for you. He might have followed you over the edge or died alone in Mordor, but you didn't let that happen, did you? It might have been easier to let go, but you didn't. You've never taken the easy path, my dear boy."

In a whisper, Frodo answered, "I can't go on knowing that I chose to keep the Ring … I can never forgive myself for that."

At last, Sam felt as if he were released from a trap and his mind started working again. He had been so intent on blaming himself it had never occurred to him that Frodo was doing the same

Sam took Frodo by the shoulders, and turned him so they were facing each other. "Don't you ever blame yourself for what the Ring did to you, Mister Frodo. It wasn't your fault.

Tell me what I can do to help you."

Frodo gave Sam a quick embrace, "Oh, Sam, you have helped me again. I haven't been able to talk about any of this. I haven't been able to talk to you – you, of all people! – because of the guilt I've been carrying. I'm so, so sorry."

Sam pushed Frodo back, held him at arms length, and looked into his eyes. He's thinner now than he was in Mordor. How could I not have noticed that he was wasting away? "It's all right. It'll be all right. We'll go back to the Shire right after Aragorn is crowned King. We'll go home, and it will be all right."

"Yes, we can soon go home."

But Sam noticed how sad Frodo's smile was.

Gandalf stirred, "Sam, why don't you get some sleep and leave this with Frodo and me. Sleep now and know you are no monster. Frodo would never have made it back without you."

Frodo added with emphasis, looking into Sam's eyes, "That's all that matters. You did all you could."

Sam said his final good nights and stepped into his chamber. He thought, as he walked away, how short the reprieve had been: for one brief moment tonight his heart had felt light because he didn't have to carry his heavy secret anymore. Now he was deeply worried about Frodo. He had said all the right things, but Sam could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn't mean half of what he was saying.

Sam stood in the middle of his chamber, then turned around quickly so he could rejoin his friend and Gandalf on the balcony. As he was about to pull aside the cloth covering the doorway, he paused as he heard Frodo whisper, "Do you think that helped Sam?"

Gandalf answered softely, "Yes, I do." After a pause, Gandalf added, "You did an excellent job of reassuring Sam, but did any of this help you?"

Sam slowly walked into his room. It felt like his thoughts were bouncing off the white granite walls. I have to get away from here! I can't think here.

So he picked up his cloak and the bag he had already started to pack for the journey home and ran from his room.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR