Thunderstorms are officially the best weather to write in (waiting for the bus after work… not so much).
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Deep in her dreams, Eowyn felt someone move lightly past her. Half opening one eyes, she glanced around at her sleeping companions quickly noting, without too much apprehension, which one was missing. She was about to dismiss the movement all together, and lie back down, when she caught a glance of a figure in the moonlight, by the edge of the stream. An animal of some kind? An attacker? She was about to rouse Faramir and reach for her sword when she realised the figure was Frodo, her unaccounted for companion.
What was he doing sitting alone in the middle of the night? As she watched, Frodo put his head in his hands and sighed heavily, the noise barely audible. Concern washed over her, as he was obviously unhappy, and Eowyn gently eased out of her blankets so as not to wake her beloved Captain. She moved quietly out of the cave, walking lightly down to the hunched figure on the stream's bank.
"Frodo?"
Frodo started slightly, and lifted his head to watch at as she approached. Her face wore an expression of concern, and he immediately felt a stab of regret and guilt that his own emotional turmoil had interrupted her otherwise peaceful night's sleep.
"Are you well?"
Frodo found himself speechless as he tried to tell Eowyn what it was that was in his thoughts. As he did, the blank mask of his face fell away, and he could only shake his head as tears threatened to fall.
Eowyn felt pity for this hobbit, who had been thrown into this situation through no cause of his own, given further tasks he should have never had to endure. He had already suffered so much – and now here he was again, far from his home with danger pursuing him again. She crouched, and, hoping she was not overstepping herself, gently put her arm around his still form, trying to provide some comfort. Frodo didn't react, but stared with unseeing eyes into the near-darkness.
"Frodo, what are you doing out here?" she asked softly.
He breathed in deeply, then slowly exhaled. "Thinking about … everything."
Eowyn didn't know how to reply to that, so instead sat down beside Frodo, her arm still around his shoulders. She guessed that what Frodo needed was someone to listen – it wasn't easy to be in this situation in the first place, but to be at the centre of it… she couldn't begin to imagine how that must feel, and how it must weigh on Frodo's mind. All she could do was lend her support and friendship to him, and be there in this time of need. She resolved not to push for or demand answers or conversation; she would let him talk when he was ready and share as much as he saw fit.
Frodo sighed quietly, appreciative of Eowyn's companionable silence. "I couldn't sleep. I was woken by a nightmare, I admit – they are fairly common for me – and I stepped outside to have a quiet moment to arrange my thoughts, and attempt to make sense of them."
"Would you prefer that I left you be?" Eowyn asked. She didn't want to leave him unhappy and alone, but if that was what he deemed was needed, then she would grudgingly respect his wishes.
"No," Frodo replied sincerely. "No, Lady Eowyn. I welcome the company."
He fell silent again. Eowyn was considering what else she could say, when he sighed again and flicked a stone into the water.
"Not even one year of peace…and but four months had I been back in my own land! We thought this over. We could go back to our land, live our lives again – or as close as we could get. But now the shadow threatens our lives once more, and I am the cause. You put yourselves willingly in danger for me – how do I deserve that? I want to keep the others out of harm. I cannot bear the thought of losing one of them. I've done this before, My Lady; led them into danger. They almost died. I didn't want to do it again – and I never thought I would."
Eowyn sighed. She wished she knew the right thing to say to help Frodo out of the shadow that clouded his mind. "I have been told hobbits prefer to keep themselves out of the affairs of others and keep themselves isolated in peace, which in some ways I envy. But you know the world outside your land has never been free of risk. Your peace does not extend beyond your borders like some wish, nor is the outside world immediate death as others guess. Our land exists in both the good and the bad, the horror of war and the peaceful beauty of sunrise in the mountains. How can it be your fault that it is so?"
Frodo said nothing, staring at the dark waters of the stream beside him.
"If you go so far as to blame yourself for the risks of the world, of the choices of others and the hostilities that exist, then you are equally responsible for the beauty and love found in all places." Eowyn raised an eyebrow at him. "As extraordinary as you are, Frodo, I do not think you are responsible for the state of the world as a whole."
The hobbit glanced at her, unable to prevent a small smile from gracing his face.
"I claim no such thing. I simply cannot shake the visions of seeing my kin fall. They have so much to do and to be, and I cannot bear the thought of that being taken away from them so soon. I feared for them so last time, and now I must again. We are not warriors, and to die in a battle, in a war…"
"…is a truly honourable death, Frodo. Those who go to fight know that. To die in defence of the people, cause or place you love is one of honour and those who go to the battlefield are ready for whatever may happen next. Eomer once said Merry was unsuited for battle, that he had the heart but doubted he would be able to conquer the fear. Merry rode into battle with me, and saved my life with little thought for his own. Do you take responsibility for that choice? Or do you trust your beloved cousin?"
Frodo sighed again. "Yes, My Lady, you're right. I just…didn't want to repeat anything. I never thought anything like this would happen again."
Eowyn tightened her arm around Frodo's shoulder. "We never do, but must face it when it does. We must do what is required of us."
"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us," Frodo murmured, as if to himself.
"Wise words," Eowyn said.
"Gandalf's words." Frodo smiled briefly again at his mention of the wizard. "How I wish he were here to advise me – but King Elessar has more need of his council at present."
The sound of the stream filled the silence that grew between them until Frodo spoke again.
"I would give anything to see them safe. I would give anything to see you all safe, untroubled by shadow and battle. If my blood would grant Middle Earth peace, instead of condemning it to darkness, I would give it instantly," he said quietly. "It would be a simple trade."
Eowyn smiled sadly, though Frodo couldn't see in the darkness. Always thinking of others before himself, worrying about burdening others with his pain. She briefly wondered what Sam might say, if he was here to hear his beloved friend's sentiment.
"Why did you not tell anyone how you felt? We need to trust each other, Frodo."
"And I do, Lady Eowyn, I do. I trust all of you with my life. Yet, I knew if I spoke out, I may be treated like some sort of fragile object, too delicate to be of worth, only seen as a chore for care. And that would make me fare worse."
Eowyn nodded. She was aware what that could feel like.
Frodo's voice was tinged with bitterness when he spoke next. "I don't understand. He wants my blood – simply a red liquid that flows through me, insubstantial as it is. How can it hold strength? What strength do I have that would aid him?"
"You may not see your own strength, but be assured that those around you do. What else could make so many willing to protect you, and accompany you even when we all know the risk? Consider, that to have such feeling displayed toward you – feeling that is not lightly given, I might add – you must be deserving of it and others must recognise that within you."
Frodo frowned slightly, his eyes on the stream's water. "You are very kind to me, My Lady. But I do not deserve it. There are dishonourable things about me that I fear could be a part of Melkor's interest in me."
Eowyn stiffened slightly. This was different.
"I am tainted by my experience. Hero am I called, but hero I am not. I was not the one who succeeded in my quest. It was Sam who was the hero, I was only a pathetic Master who could not rely on himself. I can never forgive myself for the things that happened."
Eowyn waited to hear more, but Frodo did not volunteer any information. The pair were quiet for a while longer, before he spoke again.
"Lady Eowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, do you know what today is?"
"No, O Prince of the West, I do not."
Frodo frowned slightly at the honorific before answering. "It is the 25th day of March. A year since the Ring was destroyed, and Sauron fell..." His words trailed off, as his left hand gently touched the stump on his right. Eowyn glanced down at his maimed hand. She had never really looked at it, simply accepting that it was part of Frodo, but could guess how such a stark reminder might affect his mind.
"I apologise; I have kept you awake enough, My Lady."
"You have kept yourself awake also," said Eowyn, helping Frodo to his feet. "Perhaps an apology to yourself is warranted."
The two companions walked back to the cave, leaving the small stream behind. Once back to her blankets, Eowyn looked over to her hobbit friend, feeling she understood him more. He smiled at her from where he was climbing back to his own bedding, and she returned the gesture, before curling herself up next to Faramir and regaining sleep for a few more hours.
Frodo settled himself back into his own makeshift bed, but sleep did not come immediately, as tired as he was. He was not the only one - having heard the conversation that took place between Shieldmaiden and Hobbit, Merry also lay awake; worried for his thoughtful cousin. It was a year, a year since Frodo had undergone such turmoil with the Ring, a year since he and Sam faced Mordor. Merry knew the whole story, and had often wondered what Frodo thought and remembered, but had never really wanted to question his cousin so directly.
"Frodo?" Merry whispered.
"My dear cousin! Why are you awake this early?" Frodo whispered in reply.
Merry decided not to mince words. A direct approach may be best in this circumstance. "Frodo, I heard your conversation with Eowyn."
"Oh." Frodo immediately broke his eye contact with Merry and looked down at the cave floor. Merry felt a little guilty for coming out with it as he had, as it obviously took his cousin by surprise, and Frodo did not look as if he wanted to talk about it. Merry propped himself up on his elbows and leaned in closer to Frodo.
"Frodo…my cousin, we're all here because we choose to be. You didn't get us into it, nor did anyone play a part in our making up our minds. Our own minds. We choose to be here, with you. If you go, we go. If you stay, we stay. I would go mad sitting in Brandy Hall and wondering what could be happening. If it were me in danger, would you not stay by my side and refuse to leave? You would do the same as I."
Frodo stayed quiet, so Merry continued. "You're my cousin, you're Pip's cousin, and you're a brother to Sam. You know this. We all trust you, and you, I pray, trust us. You don't lead, we don't follow. We walk together. We are all free to make our own decisions. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Thank you, Merry. I appreciate that," said Frodo, smiling at his cousin.
"And I know today is the one year anniversary, but please, don't dwell on it. It's in the past. Remember it, yes, but don't spend every minute of every day thinking of it." Merry hesitated before speaking next, aware his request would be hard for Frodo to follow through with. "If you find yourself obsessed by the past, then perhaps you could speak freely to us? You can tell us anything. We love you, Frodo, all of us do."
"And I all of you. I'm sorry this has been affecting me so. I must be terrible company."
Merry shook his head. "There is nothing to forgive."
The two cousins clasped hands. Merry smiled at Frodo, who smiled back – this time, it reached his eyes.
"Just don't tell Sam or Pippin yet. I don't want them thinking I'm unhappy and need to be treated differently. I am all right – but I cannot help feeling regretful this happened… that any of it happened."
Merry shrugged. "We were all forced to grow up during the War. No one at home – with a few exceptions – would believe what we've seen and done. The threats that we've faced – they just don't exist at home. We all changed, but you…" Merry sighed, smiling sadly at his cousin, "you were forced to change more than all of us. We know that, and it breaks our hearts."
Frodo nodded, his face suddenly weary. "I never will escape it, Merry. I've come to terms with that, but it doesn't make it any easier. You, out of the others, perhaps understand that the most."
Merry nodded. "Indeed, I do. I only was affected for a short time by the Witch King – thanks to Aragorn – but I will never forget how it made me feel." He instinctively ran his left hand over his right forearm, remembering his experience on the Pelennor Fields. "We're all right here for you, Frodo, you know that."
"You always have been, Merry mine. And I cannot express how much I am blessed by it. Perhaps one day I will find a way to repay you all for it."
Merry watched as his cousin wrapped himself in his blanket and attempted to fall into slumber. He watched in silence as Frodo's breathing eventually evened out into the deep pattern of rest.
"Repay us?" Merry whispered to the now sleeping figure. "Frodo, my dearest cousin, you do so everyday."
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Next weekend I'm heading off on a week-long trip to a medievalist event. A week of dressing in period clothing, drinking with friends around the fire, feasting, drawing and writing – it's going to be great. So if I don't get another chapter up before then, I apologise, but I hope to have another up just before I go.
Reviews always appreciated. Thanks to all readers who have sent them in so far!