CHAPTER 9

This chapter is based closely upon a role-play between Frodo Baggins of Bag End and Elwen.

Frodo took a deep breath and turned on to his side, pulling up the soft eiderdowns to cover his shoulders. It was a few moments before his waking mind realised that he was no longer propped in a sitting position and that the breath had not brought pain and coughing. He opened his eyes and blinked in the soft sunset light coming through long windows. Not Bag End then? Rivendell . . . his still sleep drowsed mind finally supplied.

"Hello there, Frodo my lad. What a commotion you have caused."

Frodo's heart leaped. Bilbo. Turning his head slightly he found his white-haired uncle sitting in the chair at his bedside, his feet resting on a footstool. Frodo swallowed and tried a smile.

"I didn't mean to Bilbo. I'm sorry." The words were little more than a croak and Bilbo frowned and looked over his shoulder at someone. Sam suddenly ran into Frodo's line of vision, carrying a cup. Slipping a hand beneath his master's head he placed the rim at his lips and Frodo sipped gratefully. It was apple juice, sweetened with honey and, strangely, it tasted slightly salty. He was too thirsty to complain and the cup was empty when Sam lowered him back into his pillows.

"This is what happens when you go running off on great adventures." Bilbo stated sagely. "Whatever did you think you were doing? Hobbit's are not made for long journeys, even Baggins."

Frodo sighed and managed to push himself up to lean against the headboard, waving Sam away when he tried to re-arrange the pillows. "I had to destroy the Ring, Bilbo dear. Don't you remember?" Even as he asked, Frodo knew the answer and the sadness returned.

His uncle shook his head vaguely. "Now, why would you want to do that? It was jolly useful you know. Why, I remember one day when I was out for a walk and saw Lotho . . ."

Elrond came to stand behind Bilbo's chair, bending to whisper in his ear.

"Master Bilbo. Perhaps you could tell that tale another time. I believe your nephew should rest a little longer. He has been quite ill." Elrond's voice chided gently. "I am sure Samwise will be happy to walk you back to your room. I understand that your tea has been laid out for you there." The elf nodded to Sam, who took the hint and placed a hand under Bilbo's arm to help him stand.

"Well, if you insist. I am a little peckish," the ancient hobbit replied and he allowed Sam to lead him from the room.

As soon as the door closed, Frodo let go of the silent tears he had been holding back. Elrond waited them out, handing his patient a handkerchief and arranging the pillows more comfortably against the headboard.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond. I feel so silly, crying like that," Frodo confided.

The elf lowered himself into the chair recently vacated by Bilbo, pushing the footstool to one side. From the bedside table he lifted a bowl and dipped a spoon in it, offering it to his patient. Frodo swallowed the fragrant, slightly salty, broth gratefully.

"Do you feel up to talking about it?" Elrond asked as he offered another spoon, dabbing Frodo's face with a napkin when a drop ran down his chin.

Frodo hesitated. "I . . . I'm not sure that I can."

Elrond nodded, continuing to ply his patient with spoonfuls of the broth. "If you feel that now is not the time I will not press you. Perhaps you would be more comfortable confiding in one of your friends. I can send for them if you wish?"

"No. Please. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. In truth I would rather talk to you than my friends. I love them too much to lay my problems on them." Suddenly he blushed furiously. "Oh my! That sounds awful, doesn't it? I didn't mean that I didn't care about you . . . you have been so kind . . . even when I was . . . less than gracious about it," he stammered. His apology was met with a gentle smile and a shake of Elrond's head.

"I did not take offence, Frodo. I take it as an honour that you would confide in me, if you were to talk to anyone. If you would prefer to talk later I am at your disposal."

Frodo swallowed another mouthful of broth. It seemed to strengthen him and there was something very soothing about being snuggled up in the warm comfortable bed and being fed by this gentle elf.

He had been so in awe of the tall stern elf when he had seen him first, across the banquet hall and yet it was at the end of that evening that Elrond himself had taken him to find Bilbo. To be sure, at the Council he had been every inch the mighty elf lord, but in all his dealings with Frodo and the other hobbits he had been nothing but gentle and kind. Bilbo had once described him as being "as kind as summer" and Frodo had to agree.

Dear Bilbo. He had shown so much wisdom. But now…

"It's not that . . . It's just that I don't know how to put it into words" He hung his head. "And I'm afraid it's going to sound so selfish."

By the simple act of plying him with another mouthful of broth, Elrond made him raise his head once more and Frodo found himself looking into eyes the colour of soft summer rain clouds.

"It is not my place to judge your feelings, Frodo. I will only listen and offer council if you ask it of me."

With a soft sigh of relief, Frodo tried to sort through his thoughts and lay them out in a way that would make sense.

"At first … I didn't think I would be coming back from . . . And then, when I did, I hoped . . . I wanted . . . I needed to share . . . what I had been through." He blinked back a tear and swallowed before trying to go on.

"After my parents died. There was no one to talk to for a long time. And then Bilbo came along. He took me in and he was wise and kind. He was always there to listen to my problems and help me through them." Frodo smiled weakly. "Sometimes all I wanted was for him to listen and he did . . .. Always."

When the little hobbit paused, Elrond nodded and laid a hand upon his in encouragement. Frodo took a deep breath and continued.

"There have been days, in the last few months, when the only thing that kept me going was the thought of seeing Bilbo again and talking about . . . about what happened to me. I didn't expect him to do anything about it . . . I know he can't. I just wanted him to listen, as he used to. But . . . everything has changed. Even Bilbo . . ." His voice petered out and he looked into Elrond's face pleadingly.

"Yes. Little One. Everything has changed and that is good and it is bad. But the nature of life is change." He coaxed another spoonful of broth into his patient, noting that he was beginning to relax into his pillows as the herbs began to take effect.

"Your Uncle Bilbo carried the Ring for many years. He told me, when he first arrived here, that he felt that it had held him a captive in time . . . that it had prevented him from changing as he should . . . so that he was merely existing instead of living. The Ring prevented him from ageing and that was a bad thing for that is what mortals do. It is your gift from Illuvatar, the Creator.

"When he gave up the Ring his life resumed its normal course. He began to age again, but it happened more swiftly because it had been delayed for so long. He is now the way he should be, for a hobbit of his advanced years. And to him that is a blessing. Although to you I can see that it would not be so."

Frodo nodded. "I suppose I should have been expecting it. But I wasn't. And when I saw him . . ."

"You were expecting to find the confidante that you have known all those years and you feel . . . what? . . . Lonely?" Elrond supplied.

The words left Frodo's lips almost without him thinking them. "Alone . . . I feel so . . . alone . . . As I did all those years ago, when my parents died. It's almost as if he's already dead because he's not the Bilbo I knew." Tears began to track down his face again but a part of him was relieved at having finally admitted to his worst thoughts.

"And the others . . . they don't understand. They have always had their families and they will return to them. But I will have nothing. . Not even old familiar Bag End. Bilbo was all that I had left and now . . . I will be totally alone again."

Elrond set the broth aside and, taking the handkerchief from Frodo's fingers, dabbed at the tears coursing down the hobbit's cheeks. The herbs were calming him enough to enable him to talk but they were not intended to totally dampen his feelings for they needed to be expressed and the healer offered a little comfort by wrapping his hand warmly about Frodo's tiny maimed one.

"It is the nature of living that there is a constant flow of life beginning and ending. And through your time here you will see many people come into your life and then leave it again. For each departure there is often a new arrival and we start the process of building a relationship all over again. In that, elves are no different to mortals.

"And there is always pain when a loved one departs our life, for no-one would wish for a good thing to end. But would you wish, rather, that Bilbo had never been there? For that is the only way that you will ever be spared the pain of parting from someone you love." Elrond paused as the faces of so many, now departed, flowed across his long memory.

"Could you live in a world without feeling love? I do not believe that you could, for surely that is what your journey has been for . . . To preserve the love in this world."

The words settled like summer rain on parched earth . . . and yet . . . "But it hurts so . . . there is so much pain. I cannot bear it alone."

"Indeed you cannot. Nor should you try. You say that you do not want to add to your friend's burdens, but surely that is the nature of friendship? They would want to share your burden and offer what comfort they can."

Still Frodo shook his head. "I cannot lay this on them. They have been through too much on my account. No."

Elrond sighed and laid a finger under the little hobbit's quivering chin, tilting the face so that he was looking deep into Frodo's weary, tear washed, blue eyes.

"Then I offer myself. Tell me of your journey, Frodo Baggins."

Frodo swallowed and a light suffused his features. "Do you mean . . .?"

Elrond nodded. "I will listen to your tale, your pain, your fears and your regrets."

"Where do I start?"

Hoping to lead his patient in gently, the healer smiled his eyes twinkling. "Well, you could start by telling me how you managed to prevent Legolas and Gimli from killing each other on the first day out of Rivendell."

Frodo giggled in relief, wiping at his tears. "It wasn't easy . . . "