Chapter Fifteen: Frost and Failure

Despite what Merry had said, Frodo still doubted that Sam saw him as anything more than an employer and friend. The incident in the bathroom had been dangerously candid. In an effort to occupy his mind with other matters, Frodo spent the next several weeks helping Bilbo with his book.

Bilbo was glad of the company for, besides himself, Frodo was the most literary hobbit in the Shire. He was very excited to hear of Frodo's adventures, and nothing escaped his commentary.

"You sold my house to Lobelia!" he'd exclaim, scratching away with his quill. "A Bracegirdle living in the house my father built…no, I don't blame you, lad, but…try to get it back when you return home, will you?'

On another day h would cry, "A willow? Merry and Pippin got consumed to a willow? Fascinating…hand me that parchment over there, please."

Or maybe, "Nine of them? It gives me the shivers…they sound like ghastly things. Oh, I wish I'd never picked up that blasted Ring…"

In the evenings, when Bilbo was tired of writing, Frodo would walk in the gardens with the Lady Arwen, who was tutoring him in both Quenya and Sindarin. At night, he would return to Sam, who would tell im about his day and about any news before the two of them fell asleep.

On night in the beginning of December, Frodo stood in the deadened garden, waiting for Arwen. The wind swept around and he clutched his cloak tightly t o him. "She's probably more sensible than you and has stayed inside," he said to himself. "Right now, she's most likely in her room, and has got the fire going." This idea both made sense and pleased him, so he went inside and started up the stairs.

The Last Homely House had grown more populated in recent days as the scouts returned. On his way down the corridor, Frodo passed Gimli and Gloin talking to some of them; tall and dark men who resembled Aragorn, the scouts were most likely Rangers.

As Frodo approached Arwen's door, the Rangers and dwarves started to walk in the other direction and disappeared down the staircase. The hallway was now empty.

"What is it that you wished to speak with me about, Arwen?"

Recognizing Elrond's voice, Frodo stood on the tips of his toes and put his ear to the keyhole. He did not mean to intrude, but his concern for the Lady had grown over the past weeks.

He heard her voice say, a little hesitantly, "The Rangers say that Aragorn should return within the next few days."

"I have heard this," said Elrond, and Frodo thought he detected a note of caution in his voice.

There was a long pause. Then Arwen said, "I have loved him for decades, Father, and now he is to embark on what will be his most dangerous quest. If he were never to return, I would regret deeply that I had not been with him in his last moments. I am brave, Father, and my archery (while it does not compare to that of some) is worthy of battle. You have not yet chosen the Company that will accompany the Ring-bearer, but I know that Aragorn will be one of their number. I ask to go with him."

Elrond sighed. "Arwen – "

"I would go as one of the Company, not as Aragorn's wife," she said hurridly. "I have no wish to disobey you. My desire is to aide in the journey."

"Arwen, war is not in your nature."

"Yet assistance is."

"You have no comprehension of the dangers you will face."

"Neither does Frodo, and yet he is to be the Ring-bearer."

"Arwen, you are my youngest child and only daughter. My heart would be crushed if you perished."

"Then you can understand the depths of my love for Aragorn," she said. "Please let me go."

"I cannot."

"Please." There was desperation in her voice.

"I am sorry, Arwen."

"I beg you!"

"Arwen – "

There was a gasp, and Frodo jumped back as the door opened. The lady ran out, her hands on her face and he hair streaming behind her. Elrond came after her, but he stopped after a few steps. He sighed heavily and walked down the corridor – away from Frodo, whom he had not noticed.

Once Elrond had gone into his own room, Frodo ran after Arwen. He found her kneeling next to a bench on the floor, her head buried in her arms.

"Hello, my lady," said Frodo apprehensively.

"Arwen, please."

"Arwen."

"I suppose you heard every last word of that exchange, she said, raising her tear-streaked face.

"I did. I am sorry."

She looked at him, her eyes wide with anguish. "I have no estel," she said.

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After Arwen became more calm, Frodo took her back to her room.

"You must not thing that there is nothing left," he said. "perhaps Aragorn will return safely and the two of you will wed."

"Perhaps."

"It will do you no good to dwell on the dismal possibilities," Frodo said firmly. "There is something I must confess…Arwen. Before his departure, Aragorn bade me to keep a watch over you."

She actually smiled. "I am not surprised. Nor am I angry."

"You are a friend to me now, not a responsibility."

"I know, Frodo," said Arwen, and she knelt down so that their faces were parallel. "And when Aragorn returns, I will that him for sending me such a wonderful companion."

A bit boldly, Frodo kissed her on the forehead.