CHAPTER TEN: AFTER THE FACT

Song: The Writer by Ellie Goulding

Frodo woke up the next morning impossibly drained. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. He only wanted to lay in bed. But just as he was getting comfortable again, he realized that it was the third day of the week, which made him remember the night before. After that, Frodo knew there was no getting back to sleep. A single question resounded in his mind: will Elossa come? A sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach told Frodo that he probably knew the answer.

Glumly, Frodo sat up, dressed, and walked down the hallway to Elanor's room. He wanted to talk to her. The faded yellow door to her bedroom was closed, so he gently knocked. After some time, the door swung open and Frodo stepped into the room.

He had only been in his sister's room once before, when he was very young and he'd hidden in there from her. It was a pleasant room, with honey-coloured wooden floors, a large round window, and it was relatively tidy. Elanor sat on her unmade bed and gestured for Frodo to sit beside her. Her eyes were slightly red but she smiled at him. "Good morning," she said.

"You too," Frodo replied, absent-minded. "I want to ask you something."

"What's that?" Elanor asked. Her voice was quieter than usual, but she seemed genuinely interested and hadn't brought up the incident the night before, so Frodo went on.

"Well," he began, "I think Elossa might hate me. And I don't know why. That is, I only hesitated asking her to dance last night. It isn't as though I said no or anything. But she just stormed off. You're a girl. You tell me why," he insisted.

Elanor thought for a moment and then said, "Well, what exactly happened? That was sort of vague, Frodo." She looked at him with a furrowed brow and Frodo tried to decide exactly what to tell her. Eventually he chose everything. After all, Elanor was his sister, and his kindest one. She probably wouldn't make fun of him...

"Well, it was couples dance," he answered, not meeting his sister's eye. "And I... I'm trying to work up the guts to ask her, see. And after a few moments she says, 'Are you going to ask me or not?' and I say, 'Do you want me to?' So she gets all angry, and I tell her I don't know what she's talking about and she replies, 'I thought you were going to ask me. I thought you were man enough at least to try. I thought you felt the same way about... oh, nevermind. You clearly wouldn't understand.'" It was remarkable how the words she'd said so sharply stuck in Frodo's mind, as though burned there like acid. "I don't know... I mean, she's obviously mad I didn't ask her directly, but why is it such a big deal? Ugh," Frodo sighed. "All women are completely mad."

Elanor looked at Frodo for a very long time before she chuckled, breaking into a genuine smile. "Frodo, it's obvious, isn't it? You made her think you didn't want to dance with her, and you hurt her. She's obviously mad for you. How do you think she felt watching all those people dancing and you couldn't ask her? But of course she wouldn't say so. So she stormed off. She's not mad, she's probably really upset. I can't believe you," she said in a shocked voice. "Could you honestly not figure that out?"

"No!" Frodo cried desperately. "The whole thing seems blown out of proportion!"

"Well, yes," Elanor admitted. "But that's how it usually is with girls. Good luck!" She stood up and gestured for Frodo to leave the room. He almost did so, but then he stopped.

"Wait a moment... good luck with what?" he asked, puzzled. Elanor looked at him as though it were supposed to be obvious.

She said, "Well, with going to talk to her, of course. You are going to, right?"

Frodo rolled his eyes. "Of course I am." In reality, the thought made his insides go cold with fear. Just as he left the room, he turned back once more and looked at his sister. "Hey," he began. "Are you going to be all right?" She nodded with a watery smile and Frodo smiled back. At least one person's romantic troubles had been mostly worked out.

The rest of the day was sluggish and dull. Frodo spent most of it distracted, thinking about what he would say when he did go and talk to Elossa, which, he had by now realized, was inevitable. He wanted desperately to see her, but at the same time he was slightly irritated with her for making such a big deal out of something so small. In the end, his yearning to simply talk to her won out and he decided that he would go see her as soon as possible if she didn't come that evening.

She didn't come. Frodo hadn't been expecting her to, but it still hit him below the belt, and he was somewhat quieter than usual that night. While the other Gamgees loudly discussed the day, he was lost in thought. After excusing himself from the table, Frodo went outside and sat in the garden. It was dark already, and cold, too. There was no moon; clouds had crept over the sky and it smelled of rain. Frodo didn't really care. He was trapped in his head and unaware of the biting wind, the threatening rainfall, the night so dark he could barely distinguish apple tree from birdbath.

He sat out there until his fingers went numb, trying desperately to clarify his thoughts. In the end, he only came up with three concrete ideas. The first: tomorrow night he was supposed to meet Morimac, Fredoc and Rubo at the pub. The second: tomorrow, he wanted to talk to Elossa. The third: tomorrow, he was stuck babysitting the littles with Rose and Elanor all day. Merry and Pippin would be of no help, as they were spending the day with one of their closest friends, a seventeen-year-old hobbit named Siam Overhill, in Bywater. Goldilocks would be with her parents, who were to be attending the opening (finally) of the new wheat mill, meaning they would likely be gone from first breakfast to supper, as there was to be a party for the builders afterwards that would likely last for hours.

Frodo was entirely conflicted about the whole thing. He wanted to see Elossa, explain, do something, but he was terrified it would turn into another upset, that he'd do something idiotic that she'd misinterpret as his not caring... when, really, he couldn't have cared more. He was somewhat glad of the excuse for another day to plan out scenarios in his head, to prepare himself a little more for what he was sure was going to be rather an ordeal, but he knew he would drive himself mental the entire day, wishing he was with Elossa, not his family.

Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to it.