Chapter 6-The Story Revealed
Lilly Banks did not forget much, and so it did not slip her mind that she had told Merry, Pippin, and Sam that she would try to talk to Frodo about…whatever had happened on his journey. For the next two lessons, the timing just didn't seem right to her and so she put it off. He seemed to be doing all right enough, maybe because he'd seen his dear cousins.
Yet the third lesson was completely different. From the moment he opened the door he looked unbearably sad and distressed, and she'd almost been tempted to tell him she could come back another day. He immediately took her back to his study though, mentioning briefly when she asked about Sam that he was spending the rest of his day with Rosie. Lilly wasn't sure what to make of it, but she found that she needed to focus on her Elvish. Maybe he'd cheer up later. That had happened before since she knew he liked Sindarin so much.
But as the lesson continued, his demeanor didn't improve and his eyes were so filled with sadness that she decided to seize the moment. "Please forgive me for asking, Frodo," she said. "But are you all right? You just don't seem quite well today."
He glanced down at his hands. "I-….I suppose I've been better," he murmured.
Shock filled her at his honest answer. "Would you like to talk about it?" she asked. He hesitated, and so she spoke again. "You can be assured that anything you tell me would stay between the two of us."
"I know, Lilly," he said. "But it's….it's a very long story."
"I'd be more than happy to listen," she said softly.
He said nothing for a moment, but then he finally began to talk to her, pouring out a positively heartbreaking story about his (and Merry, Pippin, and Sam) quest to destroy a very evil ring of the Dark Lord Sauron's deep within the land of Mordor- a ring that corrupted the owner. He'd promised at the Council of the Elf, Elrond, to take the Ring there. He'd had five other companions, along with him and the three other hobbits, but eventually he and Sam had gone off by themselves so the Ring wouldn't poison the others. A creature named Gollum found them, who'd also borne the Ring and who was quite consumed with it. But Gollum had managed to guide them to Mordor.
Traveling through Mordor, the Land of Shadow, was the worst part of the whole journey, he said. By then he could see the Eye of Sauron with his eyes nearly all the time, and he felt as though he was in a complete trance due to the Ring. His strength was gone, and at one point he'd tried to crawl up the mountain with his hands. He couldn't even remember what food tasted like then, or water. He wouldn't have made it to the fire if it weren't for Sam, who had carried him up the mountain. They eventually reached the top, where Gollum found them again. He paused there for a long time, and said nothing. He fingered what looked like a white shining jewel that hung around his neck, and stared at the floor.
Lilly felt very curious about what happened next, but she knew enough to not ask questions. He'd tell her when he was ready. She wouldn't pretend that she comprehended everything that he had told her, but she could understand enough to know that he had suffered greatly because of the Ring and its effects lingered even now. But she knew that he was lucky to have such a wonderful friend as Sam.
"Many people don't know the truth of what really happened there, Lilly," he said softly after a long time. "Some call me a hero, but I am not. In the last moments, at Sammath Naur, I…I claimed it. It was only a lucky happenstance that the Ring ended up destroyed."
Lilly was quiet now, as was her habit when she did not know what to say. Not because she thought somehow that what he'd done was terrible, but because she didn't know what to say that would ease the horrible guilt she saw in his eyes.
"I will never forgive myself for it," he said, his hand grasping the jewel more tightly. "All of the work of the Fellowship, of Rohan, and Gondor, was nearly undone, and all because of me."
"Guilt- and regret too- is a heavy burden, Frodo," said Lilly, finding something to say at last. "One that I know no one wants you to bear." She let out a deep sight. "You already bore the heaviest one of all. Please do not add another."
"How can I not, Lilly?" he said sadly.
"You suffered enough, Frodo," said Lilly. "More than enough. Do not torture yourself with how you might change the past."
"But I failed," said Frodo, quite insistently. "Don't you see? I failed."
"And how did you fail?" she said in a gentle tone. "You achieved what you wanted to do. You set out to destroy the Ring. And it is. The Shire is saved too."
"But I failed in my willpower," he said. "In my duty. I succumbed to the Ring's influence."He hung his head, and he said the next words so quietly that she almost did not hear them. "I was weak."
"I'm certain you did the best you could, Frodo," said Lilly softly. "Sometimes that's all we can ask of someone."
"I should have done more, I should have tried harder to resist-…."
"I'm not sure how you can believe that," she interrupted, though she did not do so rudely. "From what you've told me, anyone would be lucky to bear it half as far as you did without succumbing to it."
He shook his head. "I failed," he said, his voice barely audible.
"Has anyone said that to you, Frodo?" she asked. "Or is that something you put on yourself?"
Suddenly he stared at her like she was batty. "What? I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"Did anyone tell you that?" she said again. "Did Sam? Merry? Pippin? Gandalf? Any of the other members of the Fellowship? The people of Gondor and Rohan? Have they said, 'Frodo, you failed'?"
"No….no," he said. "They seemed to somehow think I was a hero, and Sam thinks that the Ring claimed me. Silly, isn't it, don't you think?"
Lilly didn't think it was silly at all. She thought Sam was right- and so were the people of Gondor and Rohan. He was a hero. "I'm not sure. It doesn't seem that silly to me. From what you said, the Ring was evil at its purest. Maybe somehow it did claim you for its own purposes."
Frodo studied her for a long moment and she wondered what he was thinking. "You know, Frodo," she continued. "You also told me that you promised you'd take the Ring to Mordor. You didn't say anything about destroying it."
"Wasn't I supposed to?" he said quietly.
"I don't know, Frodo," she answered. "I couldn't say. But maybe it was your task to bear the Ring, not necessary to destroy it."
"Ring-bearer," he muttered, looking away from her. "Cormacolindo."
Lilly had no idea what that meant, but she couldn't resist the urge to gently touch his hand in an attempt to make him feel better. As she did, she realized that it was his wounded one- the one with the missing finger. She wondered how it had happened. He hadn't said anything about it.
Almost instantly, his eyes fixated on her, two deep pools full of grief. "Gollum bit it off," he said in response to her unspoken question. "It was his attempt to reclaim the Ring. He stumbled and fell in the Fire, destroying himself and the Ring by his own greed."
In all of her imaginings, she never would have guessed that. Never. It was more horrible than anything she could have dreamed. "To lose a finger in that way…I don't even know what to say," she whispered. "It seems to me that you had more than your fair share of hardships." She studied him, saw the sorrow and pain in his face, and she felt terrible. She thought of the hobbits like Dottie Grubb who spoke callously of him, calling him cracked….completely unaware of what this one hobbit had done for her-had done for all of them, really. And what was worse, she probably didn't even care. He'd sacrificed everything for hobbits that didn't even seem aware of what he'd done to keep their homeland safe. It was heartbreaking, and her heart ached. "All I can do is thank you. Thank you so much for saving the Shire for us, Frodo."
Surprise filled his face. "Well, I suppose you're welcome, Lilly, though I'm not sure I 'saved the Shire.' But I appreciate the sentiment," he said. He paused for a few moments. "You know, you're the only one I've told about the quest."
"I'm honored," she said softly. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
He shook his head. "I'm not sure that it's an honorable story," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if you think differently of me now that you know."
She did think differently of him- she thought of him even more highly than she had before. "What happened wasn't your fault, Frodo. I'm sure Sam would tell you the same." His face still expressed disbelief, and she didn't know what else to do. "Frodo, I am sorry from the bottom of my heart that all of this happened to you." She patted his hand, and moved to take it back. But much to her surprise, he held it.
"Thank you, Lilly," he said, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Thank you for your kind words."
"You're very welcome," said Lilly. She studied him, and her women intuition told her that he needed time to be alone- to think, to process her words. "Frodo, I've enjoyed our time so much, but I think I should head home. I think you need some time to…to, well, think about what I've said."
She could see the surprise in his face, but he laughed softly. "Yes, I do," he said. "Though Sam would tell me that the last thing I need is to think." His voice abruptly changed to a brogue. "'Sure and you think too much, Mr. Frodo, and I don't like it. You brood, that's what you do, and it ain't healthy. Make no mistake, sir, it ain't right for a hobbit to be inside too much either.'"
Frodo's imitation of Sam was so perfect that Lilly couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, that sounds like him. But I think Sam just doesn't want you to overthink," she said. "There's a difference between thinking something through, and thinking about it so much that you upset yourself. That's what Sam means by brooding."
She could tell that she'd surprised him once again. She wasn't trying to, but she supposed it was just happening anyway. Yet if his guilt could be eased at all by her words, than she'd consider it a success. "Oh, I see," said Frodo. "Well, I suppose I may….brood on occasion then."
"It makes sense that you would," said Lilly. "Anyone might, with such terrible memories as you have." She immediately thought about her suggestion about journaling to Merry and Pippin, and she searched his desk where they were sitting, wondering if the journal would be here. It was, actually sitting out by him, like it was just waiting for him to write in it.
He noticed the direction of her gaze. "That's a journal my friends gave me. It's supposed to help me with my memories of the Quest."
"Yes, I know," she said softly.
Abruptly he studied her, his eyes boring into hers. "It was you. You gave them the suggestion."
She thought briefly about denying it, but she decided not to. "Yes, I did, Frodo," she said honestly. "Merry asked me what they could do to make you feel better. I'm not sure why, but maybe it's because I'm a lass and know more about feelings or something. I don't know. But I suggested that they give you the journal. I thought the process of writing down whatever is bothering you might help." She sighed. "Does….does it?"
He stared at the book now. "Yes, somehow it does," he said.
"I'm glad," said Lilly. "I'm very glad it does." She stood up, and he did as well. "I'm sorry, I know I meant to go."
"That's quite all right," he said. He smiled slightly at her, though his eyes still seemed sad to her. She wondered if there was anything that could take that expression out of his eyes. Despite that though, they both walked to the door. She hesitated there, part of her not wanting to leave. Her heart wanted to stay, mostly because she didn't want him to be alone and sad. She tried to remind herself that Mellon was there, but she knew Sam was busy with Rosie tonight. But Her family was expecting her though, and Mum didn't like it when she was late. "I guess I'll be heading home then."
He nodded. "Yes. Say hello to your family."
"I will, Frodo." She turned to go, but his fingers lightly brushed her hand. She turned to face him, somewhat surprised.
He was looking at her, seriousness in his blue eyes. They always reminded her of the sky, though right now they were like a cloudy day to be sure. But if she was honest, she thought they were beautiful. The idea made her blush, though he didn't seem to notice.
"Before you go, I wanted to say….thank you," he said. "For listening. It…" He stopped, blinking several times. "Let's just say it meant a lot to me."
"Anytime, Frodo," she said quietly."I-…well,….if there's any way I can help you, just let me know. I'll see you next week."
"Namarie," he said.
As she walked home, her mind couldn't help but go back and think about all the things he told her. So much of was too heartbreaking for words.
It was now no wonder to her why he looked so sad.
XxXxXxXx
That night at dinner, Lilly could only pick at her food. The words Frodo had said repeated themselves. In her mind, she could see his sad face and hear his sorrowful voice. She could remember the callous way the hobbits treated him. And she could barely eat.
Mum noticed her lack of appetite and commented. "Aren't you hungry, Lilly?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mum. I'm just….not tonight." Her gaze dropped down to her plate, but she felt Mum's and Daisy's eyes on her. Throughout the rest of the meal, she made an effort to keep up a conversation, but it was exhausting. As soon as she could, she excused herself politely and went up to her room. She tried to read for a little while, but she couldn't focus on it at all. Her mind kept traveling back to the hobbit in Bag End. Eventually, she fell into a light sleep.
Her last conscious thought was how badly she felt for Frodo.
XxXxXxXx
When Lilly woke up, it was dark. But her pillow was wet, and so were her cheeks and she knew she'd been crying in her sleep. More hot tears fell down her cheeks, and she hugged her pillow to her. Poor Frodo. His past tugged at her heart, and it was all so horrible to think about. Why did terrible things have to happen to such a good hobbit? She was sure that all he'd ever wanted was a life of peace in the Shire. Why couldn't he have had that? It seemed so unfair to her that he'd been robbed of it. She buried her face in her pillow and just let herself cry.
"Lilly?"
She looked up at the door. Daisy was standing there, a worried look on her face. "Are you all right? I heard you crying."
Lilly tried to say she was fine, but all that came out was a muffled sob. Daisy immediately sat by her, patting her shoulder comfortingly. Yet Lilly couldn't seem to stop crying. "Do you want to talk about it?" said Daisy gently. A lump rose in her throat, leaving her unable to speak. "Was it something Frodo told you when you saw him this afternoon?"
Daisy was more perceptive than she thought she was. "Yes," whispered Lilly. "He told me what really happened on his journey."
"Was it very horrible?" said Daisy softly.
"It was more horrible and terrible than anything you can imagine," said Lilly. "It was heartbreaking to hear everything that happened to him."
Daisy didn't say anything for a moment. "I am sorry, Lilly," she said. "He seems like a kind hobbit."
"I am sorry too," said Lilly, thinking of his gentle demeanor. "Because he is."
Daisy said nothing for a moment, but then Lilly heard her sigh. "Was he very sad?"
Lilly thought before she responded. She remembered the deep sorrow she'd seen in his eyes, the way he sometimes faltered when he told her about a particularly upsetting time. "Yes," said Lilly. "He seems….heartbroken to me. There's so much pain inside him. I wish…I wish I could do something to help him."
"Do you think…..Are you in love with him, Lilly?" Daisy whispered.
Lilly went completely still. Daisy's words repeated themselves in her mind. In love…. "Why would you ask me that?"
"I don't know," said Daisy, offhand. "You've spent time with him lately, and you sounded so upset for him….it just seemed like a good question to ask."
"I'm not sure if I am or not," Lilly said honestly after a long silence. "But I've known Frodo a long time. Since I was a little younger than you."
"I know," said Daisy. "And if you were….well, it'd be perfectly fine with me. He is so very kind." Daisy let out a small giggle. "Handsome too. And rich."
"Daisy!" Lilly tried hard to chide her sister, but she couldn't do it. She laughed softly too, thinking of his blue eyes. "He is, but we really should probably sleep now."
"Emmmm," mumbled Daisy. She crept under the covers and snuggled next to Lilly. "All right."
"What are you doing?" Lilly asked.
"Sleeping here," said Daisy, who now sounded barely awake. "You should have somebody here since you were so sad."
"Thank you, Daisy," said Lilly, who truly appreciated her sister staying with her.
But she couldn't help but think of someone else who might be sad tonight.
Yet there was no one who could comfort him.
XxXxXxXxXx
As it happened, that same moment Frodo was lying awake himself, unable to fall asleep after a bad dream. Nightmares and the like were not entirely unusual for him, as they had been all too common since his return, though some were considerably worse than others. The one he'd just had was about Weathertop, which meant he'd probably lie awake for hours, unable to sleep. The terror of reliving that was difficult to recover from. He didn't particularly like the thought of that, but it was certainly better than yet another disturbing dream. After a while, he decided to just get up and pulled on his robe. Maybe a nice hot cup of tea would help him relax and help him sleep.
He put the kettle on, and read some of his book while he waited for it to heat up. His mind wouldn't focus on what he was reading however, and once he made his tea, he walked into his study looking for another book to read. He couldn't find quite what he was looking for, and his attention was drawn toward his desk and the red book that was on it. Bilbo's book.
He sat down and thumbed through it. Bilbo had indeed done a very thorough job in recording his journey, though there were still many empty pages.
He sat back, lost in thought. Bilbo had written down his adventure; perhaps he should do the same. He dipped his pen in the ink and began to write:
A Long-Expected Party
XxXxXxXxXx
"Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo suddenly became aware of a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. It must be Sam. No one else called him that ever. "Sam?" he muttered. He opened his eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. It was morning now. He must have fallen asleep on the pages of his book.
"Yes, it's Sam," he said. "What are you doing here?"
He assumed Sam meant in the study, and not in Bag End. He sat up all the way, wincing in pain. His neck ached, but that was probably what happened when you slept with your head at a ninety degree angle. "Rubbing the back of my head," he said. "Just in case you weren't sure, don't ever sleep at your desk, Sam. It's a real pain in the neck." He couldn't believe he'd just made a joke. When was the last time that happened?
"I won't, sir," said Sam seriously, the joke falling flat on him. Probably because he couldn't be sure that it was a joke. "But, begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo, why were you sleeping there anyway? I don't reckon it's a particularly comfortable place to rest."
Sam was certainly right on that count. "It's not. But I had a bad dream, Sam," he said. "So I came in here to read something, and started writing. I suppose I most have dozed off."
"Dozed off, indeed, Mr. Frodo," said Sam with a slight shake of his head. "Dead asleep is more like it." He glanced at the red book. "But if I may ask, what were you writing about?"
"The quest, Sam," he said quietly.
"Oh, I see," said Sam, the slightest hint of a frown on his face. "How far did you get?"
"I don't know," said Frodo. "I don't remember." He glanced down at the book, trying to determine where he had left off. He found the end of his handwriting, and sat back. "Oh. I'd just come back from the party and Bilbo was gone."
"Oh, I see," said Sam again. Then he let out a very deep sigh. "Mr. Frodo, I don't mean to tell you what to do, but are you sure writing all these memories down is a good idea? Won't it make you think about it too much?"
He had wanted to laugh when Sam said he didn't mean to tell him what to do- for indeed Sam told him what to do all the time! It was as much a part of Sam as his deep love of the earth. "The thoughts and emotions associated with it have to come out somehow, Sam," he said.
"Yes, I suppose so, Mr. Frodo," said Sam with a twinge of resignation. "But….well…" He shuffled his feet. "Try not to think about it too much if you can. It ain't healthy to dwell too much on that sort of thing, you know."
Overthinking, he thought. Brooding. That must be what Lilly was talking about- Sam didn't want him to dwell on the past. But it was hard not to, when the memories were so vivid in his mind. They always seemed to come back at night, even if he could somehow push them away during the day. The past tugged at him, and it took a lot of energy to fight it.
Sam studied him, his frown deepening. "You look so tired, sir," he said, worried. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"
"No, Sam," he said quietly. "Some nights are worse than others. But don't you ever have trouble sleeping yourself?"
"Yes, of course," said Sam quickly. "Doesn't everyone on occasion?"
On occasion, yes, but not most of the time. He could only wish he'd only be plagued with insomnia some of the time. "What do you do?"
Sam's cheeks turned a rosy pink, his hesitation clearly apparent. "Uh…."
"Sam, you know you can tell me anything," he said kindly.
"I know," said Sam. "Well, I think of Rosie, Mr. Frodo. I think about walking with her around the Shire, and her pretty curls and flowers in her hair… and-…" He blushed some more. "Well, it's hard to think about the unhappy things after that."
Sam's way of thinking when he couldn't sleep suited him. And why wouldn't he think of Rosie, the lass he loved? What else could give him such perfect and peaceful rest? "I understand, Sam," said Frodo. "But I'm not sure that'd work for me."
"Huh," said Sam. "Mr. Pippin would say you could think about your lass, Lilly."
Pippin had too much of an imagination. Soon he and Lilly would be next to engaged in his head, while they were only friends in reality. "She's not my lass, Sam," he insisted. "Lasses is something for the three of you to have."
Sam smiled, almost like he had a secret he was keeping to himself. But Sam showed that his astuteness and said nothing else. "Of course not, sir," he said. "But if I may ask, how was she yesterday? Did you have a nice time?"
He wouldn't use the word nice to describe that afternoon. "I told her about the Ring and what happened at Sammath Naur, Sam," he said honestly.
Sam looked at him, clear surprise in his eyes "And what did she say?"
"She said that guilt and regret were heavy burdens, ones that no one would want me to bear," said Frodo, remembering her kind words. "And I should not torture myself with how I might change the past."
Sam nodded approvingly, obviously pleased with her answer. "'That is some good advice, Mr. Frodo. You might recall that Merry, Pippin, and I have said much of the same."
"Yes, I know, Sam. But I suppose it does not hurt for me to hear it again- from someone new this time." Sam and the others had told him that many times, though he'd never been able to believe it. He still couldn't. "You know, I do not understand why she keeps coming here. I must be dreadful company for her."
Sam said nothing for a short while, considering his answer. "I think she cares about your health," he said. "And I can understand that, sir. Anyone can tell that you're not all right."
He felt that if he let Sam continue, he'd fuss over him like he was a faunt. "Sam, you needn't fret over me," said Frodo, gently but firmly. "Please. You've done enough of that already."
"Someone needs to fret over you, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, just as persistent. Sam never gave up on anything. "Seein' as you are not completely well. So, if you please, I will 'fret over you' and I'll continue to unless you find someone else to do it."
"And who would that be, Sam?" asked Frodo tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Didn't Sam find it a little early to have this kind of conversation? He didn't know how much sleep he'd had, but it wasn't enough.
"A nice lass," sad Sam. "One that could lighten that heavy heart of yours."
Not this nonsense again. Honestly, how many times did he have to say that he wouldn't ever have a lass? "Sam, I know you've found your Rosie," said Frodo as patiently as he could. "And I know you'd like us all to be that happy, but please. I could not see how any lass would want to be with me, broken as I am."
"Well, now that's just stinkin' thinkin', Mr. Frodo," said Sam, with another shake of his head. "If you don't mind my saying so. I can think one who wants to at least be your friend, if you'd let her."
There was only one lass that he'd been talking to as of late. "You mean Lilly?"
"Yes, Mr. Frodo," said Sam kindly. "I meant Lilly. Or, if you will, the lass you just seemingly told the entirety of the quest to."
"I suppose I did, Sam," he mused. "But is there something the matter with it?"
"No," said Sam. "It is your story, to speak of to whomever you want. Yet you do not tell it often, that is for certain."
Sam was right about that, but there were two reasons that he didn't. The first was that nobody besides Lilly had asked. The second was that often it was too difficult to speak of it, even with his friends who'd been there with him. "I do not generally like to speak of it, you know that, Sam."
"And that is my point, Mr. Frodo," said Sam. "You usually don't talk about it. So what made Lilly different?"
The validity of Sam's question could not be disputed, but he wasn't sure how to answer. "I don't know," said Frodo truthfully. "She stopped by to have her lesson. Then she told me I looked distracted today and if there was anything she could do to help. Somehow it all just came out." He sighed. "I don't know, Sam. She just seemed like a safe person to tell it to, and she won't spread it all over Hobbiton, like some other lasses might."
"No, she won't," said Sam, convinced as well that Lilly could be trusted. "But do you want to know what I think?"
Frodo managed to smile at his friend. Even if he said no, Sam would tell him anyway. One of Sam's best qualities was his complete straightforwardness. "I am sure you will tell me, Sam."
"I think that you found a friend in her, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, not without gentleness."Though you haven't admitted it yet."
He realized that over the weeks Lilly had become a friend to him. Perhaps that why he told her today what happened. "Yes, you're right, Sam," said Frodo. "She is a mellon, isn't she?"
A lard smile spread across Sam's face. "Yes. She and the cat both."
He couldn't remember having a lass for a friend in years. "I never thought much about having a friend who was a lass."
"Yes, well, if you ask me," said Sam, "you and Bag End both could use a female influence."
For some reason Frodo found that immensely amusing, despite the fact that he tired of all this sort of talk. "Oh we could, could we, Sam?"
"Yes, sir," said Sam. "And I ain't talking about a feline female, if you catch my meaning."
Frodo laughed outright at that. Sam's face was quite comedic. "Oh, Sam," he said, shaking his head. "My dear Sam. The things you think!"
Sam looked slightly put out now. "You needn't make fun, Mr. Frodo. I was serious! Mellon does not count."
Sam's adamant face made him want to laugh again, but he didn't want to hurt Sam's feelings. "No, of course not," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Wouldn't you ever think of marrying anyone, sir?"asked Sam quietly. "Bag End has plenty of space for a big family. Certainly you must know that."
His blithe mood vanished as quickly as it had come. He remembered that in years past he had thought sometimes of having a child of his own, but those dreams had died along with so many others after the quest. "I do, Sam," he said, now somber. "But even if I found someone, how could I possibly ask her to share the kind of life that I have?"
"I don't think you should worry, Mr. Frodo," said Sam. "If there is a right lass for you, she will love you because of everything that happened to you, and not in spite of it."
Sam had a perennial optimistic nature. Frodo knew this well from their journey together when Sam was certain they would make it home from Mordor. But he had a more difficult time believing Sam's words then, and he had a difficult time believing them now. Could there be a girl who would love him because he was missing a finger, because he was plagued by darkness and nightmares? Was that even possible in such a place as the Shire?"Is there such a lass, Sam?" he asked softly.
"There could be," he said. "You never know. You might well be surprised one day."
Frodo could not imagine being surprised in that way. He couldn't. Not here, not now. "Oh, Sam," he muttered. "You're the dearest friend, but I truly don't believe it will happen."
Sam smiled once more, with a small gleam in his eye. "All right, sir," he said.
Later that morning, after they'd eaten breakfast, Sam excused himself to go home, leaving Frodo alone with his thoughts and allowing him to ponder everything that Sam and Lilly had said.
XxXxXxXx
December 5
This morning I woke up with that familiar black cloud of gloom hanging over my head, dragging me down into despair. I'd like to say that this is a rare occurrence for me, but it is not. It has happened all too often since I have returned home.
Home….the word doesn't even feel the same as it used to. I've been back in the Shire for a month, and I suppose that I somehow thought that perhaps-after all the turmoil, all the change, all the horrible things that I experienced- the Shire would feel the same as it did before. And it doesn't. I finally realized that the Shire will never feel the same as it did, because I am not the same. I heard it said once that there is no way you can return to a time when you were happy. And I fear that the same is true for me- there is no way to return to the happy and carefree hobbit I was before the Quest, no way to recover the innocence I've lost. There is no going back for me, no way to undo everything that happened. Home will never be the same, nor will it have the same meaning it did before. I've lost the home I love so dearly.
The thought grieves my heart tremendously. I found it difficult to think of anything else during the day, and Sam would probably say I was brooding. But he left shortly after luncheon to spend time with Rosie, and so he wasn't there for much of the afternoon. I think it's only a matter of time before he asks her to marry him- and it couldn't happen to a better hobbit. Sam deserves all the happiness in the world.
Once Sam left, I went to my study and just sat and thought for a while. Mellon joined me, lending her kitty comfort as she often does. I suppose I must have somehow forgotten that Lilly was coming this afternoon, because for a moment I could not understand why someone was knocking on my door. But I quickly remembered and let her in. I started the lesson, though I know my efforts were half-hearted at best. Naturally, Lilly noticed my sadness but she didn't say anything for at least half an hour. She finally asked me if I was all right. I'm so far from all right that I actually spoke truly and said I wasn't.
She told me that she'd be more than happy to listen, deep compassion in her eyes. And so I found that the whole story poured out of me, like a dam bursting with water. She listened patiently, never once interrupting. I have to confess I looked away from her on occasion, but I could still feel her eyes on me. They never left me for a moment, not even when I told her about what I'd done at Mount Doom. I didn't know how she'd react to that. If she'd said something about how I failed I wouldn't have been surprised.
Yet she didn't. Not a judgmental word came out of her mouth. Only words of encouragement- words about how I hadn't failed, that I'd done the best I could. She thanked me for saving the Shire. Thanked me!
I'm starting to think that Lilly is one of the kindest hobbits I know.
December 6
Last night I didn't sleep particularly well. I suppose it shouldn't have surprised me since I told the whole story to Lilly yesterday and it doesn't really. My memories are still strong, and it doesn't take much for me to feel like I'm back on the quest. I fell asleep all right, but then I dreamed I was at Weathertop, though I managed to wake up before I was stabbed. But it was very hard to return to sleep after that, and eventually I went to my study. I've decided to write an account of what happened on my journey just like Bilbo did.
Maybe writing the story down will somehow make it less burdensome on my mind. Yet even if it doesn't, I hope that one day some hobbits might read it and appreciate and love the home they have here all the more.
So very sorry that this took so long to put up! I actually wrote a lot of this a long time ago, but was trying to wait until I was happy with it. Well, that never happens so here you are. Thank you to those who are reading :)
