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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN : Hours in the Darkness
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I didn't have that much time, he was fading in and out of the fever. He was -trying- to fight. I could tell, trying to remain conscious. He looked up at me a lot, I don't really think he was looking -at- me, rather than seeking what was in my eyes. It was rather unsettling, but he seemed to be desperate to find a truth…to find…I didn't really know what he was looking for.
"What do you want Frodo?" I set aside the jar…he was quite finished with that for now. It was a rhetorical question…I could not really give him what he wanted. I held him as best as I could, and gave what comfort I was capable of. It wasn't much…but seemed to be what he needed.
He blinked a couple of times as I brought a wet cloth to his forehead, wiping away at sweat. "I…" he thought for a moment. "To live…" he looked away. "I want to be able to … deal with everything. Like other people." he looked back again. "Everyone keeps telling me…. to be strong…. To live on. To go on. Ever since my parents died….It never seems to end. Even before…" he swallowed…I could tell he was having difficulty trying to decide whether to tell me anything, "Before…I left the Shire. Before I left the Shire I never really had any … happiness. I was often ill. Bilbo…cared about me, took care of me…but he left too. So…" he coughed slightly, clutching at me. "Everyone I'd ever loved…left me…So…I didn't let myself care…about anyone enough to …have a family with them. Now…its too late. Even if I do get home…too much has happened. No one…would want me. Galadriel said…I would be alone…and…that's what I have to be now. Alone. I don't want to be alone, Meri…I…." he blinked back tears. "I want to be…a regular hobbit." he gulped, "I want t-to…live in a big Smial…with lots of cousins…and…people who care….and parties…and Yule…and…my mother and father…and I want sisters…Meri…and brothers…" he began to shake again…he was cold. Though his eyes were shimmering with tears…he did not let them loose.
I gazed down at him. I knew what he meant of course. My parents had left for the Gray Havens when I was young, and I never grew up with brothers or sisters. The King had done his best by me, of course…but…
"I want to be loved…Meri…loved…" he looked at me with his wide blue eyes filled with pain. "But I'm afraid…I can't…its too late…" he cleared his throat. "There were…lasses who …fancied me of course…I was rich…I had my own large Smial…But…they didn't love -me-. Why did Bilbo have to go off, Meri? Why couldn't he have just stayed home…like everyone else… I wish…I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish he'd never found…" he looked away suddenly and his hand went to his neck. I saw a few marks there, near the back of his neck…scars that could not have been made by a whip.
I held him gently for a little while as he clung to me. I knew that he was thinking about many things right now, trying to keep himself from falling asleep. He did not want to wake up to pain. I did not really know what to tell him. I'd asked myself the same questions many times, and I knew that after everything that had happened to me…I would have to spend my life alone as well. Elbereth…she must have had some reason to bring him to me. I suppose…we were alike in a way…him and I.
"Its not too late for you, Frodo." I told him gently, "You'll get out of here…there are people looking for you. There must be." I stroked his hair softly.
"But its too…too late to live." Frodo shook his head. "I did so many things wrong, I wish…" he sighed. "I would go back and change things…but I can't. I…accept that….really…" he looked at me then, "You think I will? What makes me different from everyone else….from you? You don't…don't know much about me…why I'm here…"
"Frodo…I've seen many prisoners come and go in the Tower. But I've never seen a Hobbit. I've read that you rarely leave the Shire, and I expect…I believe that you left the Shire not from choice but from need. You came all the way to this land, I know because that was where you were caught here. That takes rare courage, Frodo, and a strength that is hard to find. I do not believe you could have made it here without help. I did not hear that anyone was found with you, so I am sure…there's someone … maybe more than one person…trying to figure out how to rescue you." I smiled down at him…well…as best as I could smile, I haven't really had much practice.
The talking seemed to be helping him, as well as contact. I mixed a few herbs into a cup of milk while he thought about what I had just told him. They were simple herbs, found easily in Mordor…but not anywhere else. If applied in the wrong manner…they would kill in seconds. There were many things about this land that were not written in texts of old. I imagine…no one really believed anything was of use in it.
I finished mixing the cup and held it to his lips. "This will bring down your fever. Its not quite as potent as the alcohol I gave you earlier. That was meant to help you more with putting things out of your mind so I could tend you. These herbs…they will calm you…help you relax."
"What are they called?" he gazed at me curiously and let me help him drink.
"There is no name for them. The plants that grow in this land were not named. For no one would come here to use them. The Orcs have names for them, yes, but I simply identify them by their color and texture."
"Were you a healer in Mirkwood?"
"No…" I smiled, "I did study it though...and was well on my way…My mother however…was."
"I'm sorry…" he then said softly, between sips.
"What for?" I gazed at him curiously, he had nothing to be sorry about.
"I'm not usually…like that." His moodswings were normal…the fever was causing him to feel a variety of different emotions at any given moment. "I accept that I made mistakes…I know I can't change the past."
"But you can't think of the future." I nodded, understanding. "Living in the present is just as well as living any other way, Frodo. If you think too much about the past it will eat you up inside, if you think too much about the future…things might never turn out the way you want them to. My advice to you, my little one, is to simply live in the present. Think about how to get through the next few hours…not days or weeks or months or years. You can't change the past and you can't fix the future. But you can…you can decide what to do in the here and now. You have control over that at least. Even if you do not have control over what is happening around you. You CAN control what you do and what steps you take. And right now…only YOU can decide whether or not you will live through this. I can only help you…I can't make you live Frodo."
Frodo half-smiled…"You sound like Gandalf." His eyes were for the first time not clouded with pain or tears as he remembered his friend.
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN : Hours in the Darkness
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I didn't have that much time, he was fading in and out of the fever. He was -trying- to fight. I could tell, trying to remain conscious. He looked up at me a lot, I don't really think he was looking -at- me, rather than seeking what was in my eyes. It was rather unsettling, but he seemed to be desperate to find a truth…to find…I didn't really know what he was looking for.
"What do you want Frodo?" I set aside the jar…he was quite finished with that for now. It was a rhetorical question…I could not really give him what he wanted. I held him as best as I could, and gave what comfort I was capable of. It wasn't much…but seemed to be what he needed.
He blinked a couple of times as I brought a wet cloth to his forehead, wiping away at sweat. "I…" he thought for a moment. "To live…" he looked away. "I want to be able to … deal with everything. Like other people." he looked back again. "Everyone keeps telling me…. to be strong…. To live on. To go on. Ever since my parents died….It never seems to end. Even before…" he swallowed…I could tell he was having difficulty trying to decide whether to tell me anything, "Before…I left the Shire. Before I left the Shire I never really had any … happiness. I was often ill. Bilbo…cared about me, took care of me…but he left too. So…" he coughed slightly, clutching at me. "Everyone I'd ever loved…left me…So…I didn't let myself care…about anyone enough to …have a family with them. Now…its too late. Even if I do get home…too much has happened. No one…would want me. Galadriel said…I would be alone…and…that's what I have to be now. Alone. I don't want to be alone, Meri…I…." he blinked back tears. "I want to be…a regular hobbit." he gulped, "I want t-to…live in a big Smial…with lots of cousins…and…people who care….and parties…and Yule…and…my mother and father…and I want sisters…Meri…and brothers…" he began to shake again…he was cold. Though his eyes were shimmering with tears…he did not let them loose.
I gazed down at him. I knew what he meant of course. My parents had left for the Gray Havens when I was young, and I never grew up with brothers or sisters. The King had done his best by me, of course…but…
"I want to be loved…Meri…loved…" he looked at me with his wide blue eyes filled with pain. "But I'm afraid…I can't…its too late…" he cleared his throat. "There were…lasses who …fancied me of course…I was rich…I had my own large Smial…But…they didn't love -me-. Why did Bilbo have to go off, Meri? Why couldn't he have just stayed home…like everyone else… I wish…I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish he'd never found…" he looked away suddenly and his hand went to his neck. I saw a few marks there, near the back of his neck…scars that could not have been made by a whip.
I held him gently for a little while as he clung to me. I knew that he was thinking about many things right now, trying to keep himself from falling asleep. He did not want to wake up to pain. I did not really know what to tell him. I'd asked myself the same questions many times, and I knew that after everything that had happened to me…I would have to spend my life alone as well. Elbereth…she must have had some reason to bring him to me. I suppose…we were alike in a way…him and I.
"Its not too late for you, Frodo." I told him gently, "You'll get out of here…there are people looking for you. There must be." I stroked his hair softly.
"But its too…too late to live." Frodo shook his head. "I did so many things wrong, I wish…" he sighed. "I would go back and change things…but I can't. I…accept that….really…" he looked at me then, "You think I will? What makes me different from everyone else….from you? You don't…don't know much about me…why I'm here…"
"Frodo…I've seen many prisoners come and go in the Tower. But I've never seen a Hobbit. I've read that you rarely leave the Shire, and I expect…I believe that you left the Shire not from choice but from need. You came all the way to this land, I know because that was where you were caught here. That takes rare courage, Frodo, and a strength that is hard to find. I do not believe you could have made it here without help. I did not hear that anyone was found with you, so I am sure…there's someone … maybe more than one person…trying to figure out how to rescue you." I smiled down at him…well…as best as I could smile, I haven't really had much practice.
The talking seemed to be helping him, as well as contact. I mixed a few herbs into a cup of milk while he thought about what I had just told him. They were simple herbs, found easily in Mordor…but not anywhere else. If applied in the wrong manner…they would kill in seconds. There were many things about this land that were not written in texts of old. I imagine…no one really believed anything was of use in it.
I finished mixing the cup and held it to his lips. "This will bring down your fever. Its not quite as potent as the alcohol I gave you earlier. That was meant to help you more with putting things out of your mind so I could tend you. These herbs…they will calm you…help you relax."
"What are they called?" he gazed at me curiously and let me help him drink.
"There is no name for them. The plants that grow in this land were not named. For no one would come here to use them. The Orcs have names for them, yes, but I simply identify them by their color and texture."
"Were you a healer in Mirkwood?"
"No…" I smiled, "I did study it though...and was well on my way…My mother however…was."
"I'm sorry…" he then said softly, between sips.
"What for?" I gazed at him curiously, he had nothing to be sorry about.
"I'm not usually…like that." His moodswings were normal…the fever was causing him to feel a variety of different emotions at any given moment. "I accept that I made mistakes…I know I can't change the past."
"But you can't think of the future." I nodded, understanding. "Living in the present is just as well as living any other way, Frodo. If you think too much about the past it will eat you up inside, if you think too much about the future…things might never turn out the way you want them to. My advice to you, my little one, is to simply live in the present. Think about how to get through the next few hours…not days or weeks or months or years. You can't change the past and you can't fix the future. But you can…you can decide what to do in the here and now. You have control over that at least. Even if you do not have control over what is happening around you. You CAN control what you do and what steps you take. And right now…only YOU can decide whether or not you will live through this. I can only help you…I can't make you live Frodo."
Frodo half-smiled…"You sound like Gandalf." His eyes were for the first time not clouded with pain or tears as he remembered his friend.
* * *