Frodo's Journey
The dark waves rocked the large, magnificent ship back and forth in an uneven rhythm, causing the Phial that Frodo held aloft to weave between the folds of the night sky. He gazed back eastward across the docile movement of the waters, struggling for some last glimpse of the only home he had ever known. But the smooth sandy shoreline had already vanished from view, obscured by layers of swirling grey mist. A few tears trickled down his face as he thought of his friend Sam's wife Rosie and their child Elanor. He would never get to see Elanor's first steps, or hear her first word. He would not be there to see the births and lives of Sam's many other children that had yet to be born. And Pippin and Merry would come of age and live their lives out in the rustically beautiful, blissfully innocent Shire, but he would not be able to share it with them. Immersed in these sad thoughts, he stood long upon the stern, and tears coursed freely over his cheeks, falling to mingle with the salty waters of the Sea.
Gandalf came up behind him and patted him on the shoulder. "I know it is hard, Frodo, but you will see Sam again." he comforted.
"I know that. I just miss Rosie…and little Elanor..." Frodo replied, choking back a sob. "Rosie is so kind to little Elanor, and Sam loves them both so much. I don't think he could be any happier. And Elanor… oh, she is so beautiful with her golden hair…" he trailed off, his throat too constricted and his vision too blurred to continue.
"It seems that little Elanor was named very appropriately," chuckled Gandalf. "I wasn't even allowed the privilege of living with them!" Frodo laughed with his old friend and put the Phial back in his pocket. He wiped the tears from his cheek and swayed a little as the movement of the boat caught him off balance. Gandalf caught him around the waist and set him down gently on the gleaming wooden deck.
It was then, as Frodo looked about him, that he noticed the singing. It wasn't like the sounds of waves lapping peacefully against the sides of the ship, and it wasn't the wind. It was beautiful singing, and it made one feel as if one were hearing a voice from long ago floating down through the years. "What is that singing I hear, Gandalf? Is it the Elves? I have never heard them sing so well!" exclaimed Frodo in wonder.
"That is no Elf you hear, my dear hobbit! That is the Lord of the Oceans himself, or one of his minions, perhaps Uinen. Yes, it has been long since I heard her singing, but I believe it is she!" Gandalf replied with excitement.
"Are there words?" asked Frodo, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "And who is Uinen? I have heard of Ulmo, Lord of Oceans, but never of Uinen. Is she his spouse?"
"Oh no, she is the spouse of Osse, and she lays calm to the waves when they are tossed about by his wrath. Osse holds dominion over all the seas of the world." Gandalf laughed, suddenly merrier than Frodo had ever seen him. "Oh, my dear hobbit, we're going home, to my homeland! Oh, Nienna, how I miss our long talks! And the gardens of Lorien, where all can find rest and healing, and all is ever green!" Lost in old memories, he gazed westward, many creases in his old face gone with the worry that had caused them.
Frodo sat then in wonder and hearkened to the words of Uinen, and all his fears of the Sea were calmed. For he found suddenly that he did not need Gandalf to translate her song, for the song was like those of the Elves, which even those who speak not the Elvish tongue can still somehow understand.
Fear not the Sea
While your journey lasts
For it will bear you safe
Across its surface to the land
From whence you came
The little lakes
The rivers and streamsAre but fingers of the sea
And they lay calm as you pass
You fear them not, do ye?
Fear not the Sea
While your journey lasts
For it will bear you safe
Across its surface to the land
From whence you came
There was more, but Frodo had already been lulled to sleep by the gentle words and the beautiful voice. He wandered for a time in dreams of his youth, his adventures and doings before Bilbo left. He saw once again Pippin and Merry as they crept into Farmer Maggot's field for some of his prized mushrooms, and were chased away by his dogs. Sam was there, trimming the grass in the yard and coaxing the flowers up the trellis throughout the course of the spring. Ah, the good old times. We all miss them, don't we?