Chapter 6: From the Ashes...
After speaking with Bilbo Sam wanted to see Frodo right away. But his tales went long into the night and by the time Gandalf came he ushered him to bed, assuring him that he would see Frodo in the morn. Bilbo bade him farewell, "I will see you often now, Sam, I'm so glad you came, and reminded me." He added a friendly wink that made Sam smile.
That night Sam dreamt again. He started to fear sleeping for the same dreams haunted him, darkness and despair, and Frodo. He kept himself awake as long as possible but soon sleep won, as it inevitably does. And there he was again, at Frodo's door, knocking, hoping beyond hope for some recognition. Each dream grew steadily worse, ending with darkness and a great wheel of fire that he despised beyond anything, and Rose's dear voice *He is lost*.
Frodo grew increasingly angry one time, hurting Sam in a way he thought never possible. Cursing Sam for bothering him and returning to him the pain that he thought was gone forever. Each time he drove the Morgul Blade into Sam's heart, sometimes obliviously, sometimes with anger. Frodo faded and the blade as well, and Sam found himself standing on the cliff by the sea, looking out onto the endless waters. Those pure, healing, waters. They would heal his pain. And with that he let himself fall. Sam rolled off the bed, whimpering like a child, "Frodo." When he finally came to some sense, he cried again. Staggering to his feet Sam thought he could bear these terrible dreams no longer.
Morning came and Sam dreamt nothing more that night. He lay awake in his bed for quite some time. He dreaded seeing Frodo but also was anxious. Gandalf came into the room, "Do you plan on coming out, Sam Gamgee?"
Sam swallowed hard, "Yes, I do."
~~~
The walk to Frodo's room was just a dream in Sam's mind. He wandered between sleep and waking, dreams and reality. Gandalf guided him silently. Whatever was to be was to be, it was up to Sam now.
Sam stopped abruptly infront of Frodo's door. Gandalf watched the frozen hobbit for some time, "Are you going?"
Sam started out of his transe. He drew in a deep breath, "Yes." He knocked lightly on the door.
Gandalf gave the hobbit a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before leaving. Sam trembled all inside, he felt cold. Darkness pressed on his mind but he pushed it away. He knocked too lightly, he knew that already, but fear took him for knocking a second time.
*Come along Sam Gamgee, you've faced the very darkness of Mordor but you cannot face your friend?*
*Some things can hurt more than the fires of Mordor ever could.*
Sam sighed, "Well I know one thing, I'd rather be facing Mordor right now." With a deep breath he gathered his courage and knocked once more.
"Half a moment!" came a cheerful voice and Sam felt all his world stop. Of all the things he had hoped Frodo would first say to him that was not one. But it was Frodo and it was his voice and that was enough for Sam.
The door opened and there they were face to face. Sam was frozen. A face he had often dreamt about (when his dreams were more pleasant) the face he had wished to see again for almost what seemed an eternity. The one person he wished to spend eternity with, stood before him. Frodo watched the gaping hobbit for a while with a smile on his lips. After a moment of seeing that this strange hobbit did not speak he spoke. "Welcome. Can I help you?"
Sam bit hard into his lower lip. He squeezed his eyes tight as not to let any tears lose. He knew this would not be easy, do not cry now. Sam found no words again. Frodo took it to himself to do the talking, "I didn't know there were other hobbits here," he waited for a response, but when none came he continued, "Gandalf said it was just me and Bilbo."
It was obvious Frodo was expecting a name. Sam tried hard to choke it out. "Samwise Gamgee," he bowed. He could almost see that Morgul blade twisting into him now, Frodo's hand guiding it, he could surely feel it.
When he rose something flickered behind Frodo's eyes, if only for a moment, and was gone. "Hello, Samwise." He bowed as well, "Frodo Baggins."
"Is something bothering you, lad?" Frodo detected the struggling tears in Sam's eyes.
"Just looking for someone," Sam managed to answer.
"Who?"
"An old friend."
"There are other hobbits? By all the stars am I told nothing!" He laughed.
"Well no, it's just you and I and Mr. Bilbo."
"So you've met my uncle?"
"I have."
"Who is it you seek, lad?" Frodo's tone grew concerned, seeing that the hobbit infront of him was clearly distressed. Sam smiled through his tears, no matter what these lands have done to his memory, Frodo was surely a gentle-hobbit to the end.
"I'll introduce you when I find him," Sam thought this a funny remark but did not laugh. Sam suddenly spotted the Lady Arwen's stone dangling on it's silver chain around Frodo's neck.
Frodo followed his gaze to it, "Oh, it was a gift." Frodo lifted the stone.
"From- from who?" Sam stammered.
Frodo's eyes flickered again. His expression grew suddenly serious for a moment. If only for a split second Sam thought he saw a sign of slight recognition, once more, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
Sam wanted to shout, The Lady Arwen! Oh please remember! But he silenced his mind.
"I don't know." Frodo answered quietly, "But it is- it is precious to me."
Sam's eyes widened, "Precious?"
"Yes, some link to the other lands, from whence I came." Frodo was quiet a moment, "Did you come from those lands? East of the sea?"
Sam gulped, "I did."
They were silent for quite some time before Frodo realized they were still standing in the doorway. "How foolish of me," he slapped his head and laughed, "Come in, have a seat. Can you stay a while? I don't get hobbit visitors save my uncle Bilbo."
Sam nodded and accepted the invitation. This was going to be much more difficult than Sam thought, he hoped his heart could take it, and would chose a good time to speak out and tell him exactly what to do soon.
The sun had risen over the eastern horizon and hovered where the sky met the sea. Sam thought of the Shire and his children. *I'll never forget you. I'll never never forget you* He repeated their names in his head, picturing each of them and how they were going about their day right about now. He wondered if their thoughts went west to him.
Frodo sighed and got a distant look in his eyes. Sam felt old feelings of concern come back to him in a surging rush. "Mr. Frodo?" It was an involuntary response as it was but at the name Frodo's head snapped up to look at him. Something stirred behind those eyes. The look of pain soon subsided again and the eyes clouded back to what they were, strange and distant. But Sam saw it strong now. He was remembering, and it was paining him. Sam bit his tongue, don't say that again, he warned himself.
"I should go," Sam got up but as soon as he did he felt Frodo's hand restrain him from going any further. Sam looked down at him but he turned away.
"Don't," came the faintest of whispers.
Sam blinked back tears. "Pardon?"
"You can tell me about the lands to the east can you not?"
"I suppose but-"
"Please tell me. I don't know anything of my own homeland, of my people, or even why I'm here. Can't you tell me something of where hobbits come from?"
Sam could have cried. He sounded so lost. He was beginning to have doubts. Was this for the best? He did not seem happy. "I'm afraid it's not that simple."
Frodo let go, "You sound just like Gandalf," he almost laughed.
Sam took pity, "Well let's see," he began as if telling a hobbit child a tale. He sat back down again, reluctantly. "What can I tell you about the Shire." At saying this word he stopped again to look at Frodo but saw no change. He was smiling, his eyes attentive, settled comfortably ready to hear the tale.
"Shire?" he smiled, "Is that our homeland?"
Sam choked, "Yes- it is."
"Bilbo's told me about it. He said it's very green, with the finest gardens in the land."
Sam nodded and smiled, tears threatening to spill down his face. He started to tell some tales, staying away from a certain tale about a ring he knew he should not speak of. He wanted to enjoy this while he still could. Frodo did not remember him, so he would stay true to his word. He would see him this one last time and then leave him to his happiness. All the time in his thoughts he was cursing that one thing that took everything away from him.
After a while Sam ran out of Shire stories and Frodo quickly remembered the friend that was mentioned earlier. "What about your friend?"
"Hmm?" Sam's mind had wandered back to the Shire in one of the tales he was telling about when he was a boy and met his first Bucklander who had recently moved with the Master of Bag-end, who's garden's he kept.
"You were looking for your friend. Did he come from the Shire?"
"Yes he did." Sam felt a sudden contempt for the Ring growing in him. It made his friend leave the Shire and lose it forever.
"Where is he now?"
"Someone- something took him away from the Shire and all he loved."
"That's terrible."
Sam nodded solemly, his mind crying louder and louder, *You miserable cursed ring! You terrible forsaken ring! How I hate it! I would have born it if I could for him! I would have! That wretched ring!* "That wretched ring!" Sam clapped a hand over his mouth. He had said that last part aloud, didn't he? His gaze set on Frodo who had frozen, his smile gone, his face went pale. He did! Fool, Samwise!
"Frodo?"
He was silent.
"Frodo?" Sam whimpered.
But Frodo was completely frozen. He did not respond. He did not blink. His gaze locked on something far away his face as white as a ghost's. His mouth was partly agape, his eyes wide.
"Frodo, please, I-"
Silence.
"I'll leave now," Sam got up, he couldn't stop the tears now, that burst through his eyes making all things seem blurred and hazy. He felt his way to the door, salty tears spilling down his cheeks. He would leave, the door was there, he would leave and never return. He would not try and take away Frodo's peace again.
"Sam?"
After speaking with Bilbo Sam wanted to see Frodo right away. But his tales went long into the night and by the time Gandalf came he ushered him to bed, assuring him that he would see Frodo in the morn. Bilbo bade him farewell, "I will see you often now, Sam, I'm so glad you came, and reminded me." He added a friendly wink that made Sam smile.
That night Sam dreamt again. He started to fear sleeping for the same dreams haunted him, darkness and despair, and Frodo. He kept himself awake as long as possible but soon sleep won, as it inevitably does. And there he was again, at Frodo's door, knocking, hoping beyond hope for some recognition. Each dream grew steadily worse, ending with darkness and a great wheel of fire that he despised beyond anything, and Rose's dear voice *He is lost*.
Frodo grew increasingly angry one time, hurting Sam in a way he thought never possible. Cursing Sam for bothering him and returning to him the pain that he thought was gone forever. Each time he drove the Morgul Blade into Sam's heart, sometimes obliviously, sometimes with anger. Frodo faded and the blade as well, and Sam found himself standing on the cliff by the sea, looking out onto the endless waters. Those pure, healing, waters. They would heal his pain. And with that he let himself fall. Sam rolled off the bed, whimpering like a child, "Frodo." When he finally came to some sense, he cried again. Staggering to his feet Sam thought he could bear these terrible dreams no longer.
Morning came and Sam dreamt nothing more that night. He lay awake in his bed for quite some time. He dreaded seeing Frodo but also was anxious. Gandalf came into the room, "Do you plan on coming out, Sam Gamgee?"
Sam swallowed hard, "Yes, I do."
~~~
The walk to Frodo's room was just a dream in Sam's mind. He wandered between sleep and waking, dreams and reality. Gandalf guided him silently. Whatever was to be was to be, it was up to Sam now.
Sam stopped abruptly infront of Frodo's door. Gandalf watched the frozen hobbit for some time, "Are you going?"
Sam started out of his transe. He drew in a deep breath, "Yes." He knocked lightly on the door.
Gandalf gave the hobbit a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before leaving. Sam trembled all inside, he felt cold. Darkness pressed on his mind but he pushed it away. He knocked too lightly, he knew that already, but fear took him for knocking a second time.
*Come along Sam Gamgee, you've faced the very darkness of Mordor but you cannot face your friend?*
*Some things can hurt more than the fires of Mordor ever could.*
Sam sighed, "Well I know one thing, I'd rather be facing Mordor right now." With a deep breath he gathered his courage and knocked once more.
"Half a moment!" came a cheerful voice and Sam felt all his world stop. Of all the things he had hoped Frodo would first say to him that was not one. But it was Frodo and it was his voice and that was enough for Sam.
The door opened and there they were face to face. Sam was frozen. A face he had often dreamt about (when his dreams were more pleasant) the face he had wished to see again for almost what seemed an eternity. The one person he wished to spend eternity with, stood before him. Frodo watched the gaping hobbit for a while with a smile on his lips. After a moment of seeing that this strange hobbit did not speak he spoke. "Welcome. Can I help you?"
Sam bit hard into his lower lip. He squeezed his eyes tight as not to let any tears lose. He knew this would not be easy, do not cry now. Sam found no words again. Frodo took it to himself to do the talking, "I didn't know there were other hobbits here," he waited for a response, but when none came he continued, "Gandalf said it was just me and Bilbo."
It was obvious Frodo was expecting a name. Sam tried hard to choke it out. "Samwise Gamgee," he bowed. He could almost see that Morgul blade twisting into him now, Frodo's hand guiding it, he could surely feel it.
When he rose something flickered behind Frodo's eyes, if only for a moment, and was gone. "Hello, Samwise." He bowed as well, "Frodo Baggins."
"Is something bothering you, lad?" Frodo detected the struggling tears in Sam's eyes.
"Just looking for someone," Sam managed to answer.
"Who?"
"An old friend."
"There are other hobbits? By all the stars am I told nothing!" He laughed.
"Well no, it's just you and I and Mr. Bilbo."
"So you've met my uncle?"
"I have."
"Who is it you seek, lad?" Frodo's tone grew concerned, seeing that the hobbit infront of him was clearly distressed. Sam smiled through his tears, no matter what these lands have done to his memory, Frodo was surely a gentle-hobbit to the end.
"I'll introduce you when I find him," Sam thought this a funny remark but did not laugh. Sam suddenly spotted the Lady Arwen's stone dangling on it's silver chain around Frodo's neck.
Frodo followed his gaze to it, "Oh, it was a gift." Frodo lifted the stone.
"From- from who?" Sam stammered.
Frodo's eyes flickered again. His expression grew suddenly serious for a moment. If only for a split second Sam thought he saw a sign of slight recognition, once more, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
Sam wanted to shout, The Lady Arwen! Oh please remember! But he silenced his mind.
"I don't know." Frodo answered quietly, "But it is- it is precious to me."
Sam's eyes widened, "Precious?"
"Yes, some link to the other lands, from whence I came." Frodo was quiet a moment, "Did you come from those lands? East of the sea?"
Sam gulped, "I did."
They were silent for quite some time before Frodo realized they were still standing in the doorway. "How foolish of me," he slapped his head and laughed, "Come in, have a seat. Can you stay a while? I don't get hobbit visitors save my uncle Bilbo."
Sam nodded and accepted the invitation. This was going to be much more difficult than Sam thought, he hoped his heart could take it, and would chose a good time to speak out and tell him exactly what to do soon.
The sun had risen over the eastern horizon and hovered where the sky met the sea. Sam thought of the Shire and his children. *I'll never forget you. I'll never never forget you* He repeated their names in his head, picturing each of them and how they were going about their day right about now. He wondered if their thoughts went west to him.
Frodo sighed and got a distant look in his eyes. Sam felt old feelings of concern come back to him in a surging rush. "Mr. Frodo?" It was an involuntary response as it was but at the name Frodo's head snapped up to look at him. Something stirred behind those eyes. The look of pain soon subsided again and the eyes clouded back to what they were, strange and distant. But Sam saw it strong now. He was remembering, and it was paining him. Sam bit his tongue, don't say that again, he warned himself.
"I should go," Sam got up but as soon as he did he felt Frodo's hand restrain him from going any further. Sam looked down at him but he turned away.
"Don't," came the faintest of whispers.
Sam blinked back tears. "Pardon?"
"You can tell me about the lands to the east can you not?"
"I suppose but-"
"Please tell me. I don't know anything of my own homeland, of my people, or even why I'm here. Can't you tell me something of where hobbits come from?"
Sam could have cried. He sounded so lost. He was beginning to have doubts. Was this for the best? He did not seem happy. "I'm afraid it's not that simple."
Frodo let go, "You sound just like Gandalf," he almost laughed.
Sam took pity, "Well let's see," he began as if telling a hobbit child a tale. He sat back down again, reluctantly. "What can I tell you about the Shire." At saying this word he stopped again to look at Frodo but saw no change. He was smiling, his eyes attentive, settled comfortably ready to hear the tale.
"Shire?" he smiled, "Is that our homeland?"
Sam choked, "Yes- it is."
"Bilbo's told me about it. He said it's very green, with the finest gardens in the land."
Sam nodded and smiled, tears threatening to spill down his face. He started to tell some tales, staying away from a certain tale about a ring he knew he should not speak of. He wanted to enjoy this while he still could. Frodo did not remember him, so he would stay true to his word. He would see him this one last time and then leave him to his happiness. All the time in his thoughts he was cursing that one thing that took everything away from him.
After a while Sam ran out of Shire stories and Frodo quickly remembered the friend that was mentioned earlier. "What about your friend?"
"Hmm?" Sam's mind had wandered back to the Shire in one of the tales he was telling about when he was a boy and met his first Bucklander who had recently moved with the Master of Bag-end, who's garden's he kept.
"You were looking for your friend. Did he come from the Shire?"
"Yes he did." Sam felt a sudden contempt for the Ring growing in him. It made his friend leave the Shire and lose it forever.
"Where is he now?"
"Someone- something took him away from the Shire and all he loved."
"That's terrible."
Sam nodded solemly, his mind crying louder and louder, *You miserable cursed ring! You terrible forsaken ring! How I hate it! I would have born it if I could for him! I would have! That wretched ring!* "That wretched ring!" Sam clapped a hand over his mouth. He had said that last part aloud, didn't he? His gaze set on Frodo who had frozen, his smile gone, his face went pale. He did! Fool, Samwise!
"Frodo?"
He was silent.
"Frodo?" Sam whimpered.
But Frodo was completely frozen. He did not respond. He did not blink. His gaze locked on something far away his face as white as a ghost's. His mouth was partly agape, his eyes wide.
"Frodo, please, I-"
Silence.
"I'll leave now," Sam got up, he couldn't stop the tears now, that burst through his eyes making all things seem blurred and hazy. He felt his way to the door, salty tears spilling down his cheeks. He would leave, the door was there, he would leave and never return. He would not try and take away Frodo's peace again.
"Sam?"