2. Old Ring-bearers Never Die...
'What do you think it is, Mr Frodo?' Sam asked, troubled.
'I don't know, Sam. I think it started on the Sixth, that day when everything seemed to be fading away around me. I thought I saw a hint of transparency about the fingers on my right hand, but I dismissed it as a wild fancy, brought on by the dark thoughts I'd been thinking.' He sighed, and held up his hand. Though Sam could see the hand, he could also see the outline of Mr Frodo's face behind it.
'Is it going to get worse?'
Frodo sighed. 'I only wish I knew, Sam,' he admitted honestly. He gestured around the study, and Sam could see that many books had been pulled down from the shelves, lying atop one another, all opened, in untidy piles. 'I haven't been able to find anything about this sort of thing in any of the books Bilbo left.'
'Does it... does it feel... different?'
'No, that's the funny thing. My hand doesn't look as if it's all there, but it feels as solid as anything. Go ahead,' Frodo urged, holding out his hand to Sam. 'Go on,' he said, 'give it a shake.'
Sam reached out to touch the nebulous hand. It felt solid enough. When he closed his eyes, he'd swear it was a hand like any other. He grasped it tightly, and Frodo squeezed back firmly. Sam opened his eyes to look, and could see right through Frodo's hand to his own fingers. He let go again hastily.
'It's just the same hand, Sam,' Frodo said urgently. 'It only looks different.' He met Sam's frightened eyes. 'Sam,' he soothed. 'I'm still the same Frodo.' Guessing the other's fear, he smiled. 'I'm not turning into a wraith, Sam. I'd know. I remember what it felt like, cold somehow, but I'm perfectly warm. Go ahead, feel my hand.'
Sam reached out again. Frodo's hand was warm, living flesh. He drew back, puzzlement showing in his face. 'What do you make of it, Mr Frodo?'
Frodo shook his head. 'I'm sure I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.'
As the days passed, Frodo took to wearing a glove on his right hand. It made it easier for Sam and Rose to put the fading hand out of mind. As the rest of him continued quite substantial, they soon grew used to the gloved hand and paid it no mind. As for Frodo, he stayed even closer to home after that, except for when Merry and Pippin visited, and were able to pry him from the house for a ride or walk in the woods, a rare enough occasion given the rainy weather.
One day dawned cold but clear, and Pippin coaxed his older cousins into a ride over the fields and through the woods. 'Come on!' he urged. 'We've been cooped up in Bag End until I have the name of every book in the study memorized.'
'You're joking,' Frodo said, his eyes wandering the shelves. 'Nobody could do that.'
'Watch,' Merry smiled. Pippin threw his arm over his eyes and began to recite, and to Frodo's astonishment he named every book on a middle shelf.
'We've got to get you out of here,' Frodo said in a worried tone.
'Great!' Pippin exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. 'I'll go get the ponies ready.'
Once they were well away, Merry and Frodo rode knee to knee while Pippin ranged ahead, singing to the sky.
'He memorized the books on that one shelf to pry me loose, didn't he?' Frodo asked.
Merry looked surprised. 'I wouldn't know,' he confessed. 'It's possible, but it's just as likely he knows them all. You never know what is going to come out of him next.'
'I hear he's cutting quite a swath through the lasses in the area.'
Merry chuckled. 'Yes. If I stick close to him I manage to get quite a few free dinners. He's taking advantage of it while he can. Knowing the Thain, he'll probably be married as soon as he comes of age, in order to secure an heir for the Great Smials, poor lad.'
Frodo eyed him. 'And how about you? Are your parents throwing lasses in your face, hoping for an heir to the Hall?'
Merry was silent, reaching down to stroke his pony's sleek neck.
'I'm sorry, Merry, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot.'
Merry looked up. 'O, it's not that,' he said, then seemed to be searching for the right words. 'My parents and I get along fine. They're so glad to see me come back from the dead, I could do practically anything I wanted and they wouldn't say "Boo". It's just...' Frodo remained silent, but he nodded encouragingly. Merry raised haunted eyes to his. 'What lass in her right mind would want to marry someone touched by Shadow?'
Frodo was stunned. The bright and gay spirit the King had spoken of when healing Merry was hardly evident. 'What do you mean?'
Merry said, 'The War is over, indeed, but the dreams have yet to stop.' Frodo nodded. He had dreams of his own, and sometimes, in the night, he would hear Samwise call out in the next room, and Rosie's soothing voice.
He understood now, why of all his relations, Merry never pressed him about marrying.
'I think...' Frodo said, choosing his words carefully, 'I think that you've got to give it some time. Healing takes time, you know. Even a little cut takes a few days to close, a broken bone takes a few weeks to set. A brush with Shadow might take a bit longer.'
Merry stared at him in astonishment, then broke out into a laugh. Frodo didn't know what he'd said that was so funny, but he chuckled, Merry's laugh was so contagious, and they rode along comfortably the rest of the way back to Bag End.
'What do you think it is, Mr Frodo?' Sam asked, troubled.
'I don't know, Sam. I think it started on the Sixth, that day when everything seemed to be fading away around me. I thought I saw a hint of transparency about the fingers on my right hand, but I dismissed it as a wild fancy, brought on by the dark thoughts I'd been thinking.' He sighed, and held up his hand. Though Sam could see the hand, he could also see the outline of Mr Frodo's face behind it.
'Is it going to get worse?'
Frodo sighed. 'I only wish I knew, Sam,' he admitted honestly. He gestured around the study, and Sam could see that many books had been pulled down from the shelves, lying atop one another, all opened, in untidy piles. 'I haven't been able to find anything about this sort of thing in any of the books Bilbo left.'
'Does it... does it feel... different?'
'No, that's the funny thing. My hand doesn't look as if it's all there, but it feels as solid as anything. Go ahead,' Frodo urged, holding out his hand to Sam. 'Go on,' he said, 'give it a shake.'
Sam reached out to touch the nebulous hand. It felt solid enough. When he closed his eyes, he'd swear it was a hand like any other. He grasped it tightly, and Frodo squeezed back firmly. Sam opened his eyes to look, and could see right through Frodo's hand to his own fingers. He let go again hastily.
'It's just the same hand, Sam,' Frodo said urgently. 'It only looks different.' He met Sam's frightened eyes. 'Sam,' he soothed. 'I'm still the same Frodo.' Guessing the other's fear, he smiled. 'I'm not turning into a wraith, Sam. I'd know. I remember what it felt like, cold somehow, but I'm perfectly warm. Go ahead, feel my hand.'
Sam reached out again. Frodo's hand was warm, living flesh. He drew back, puzzlement showing in his face. 'What do you make of it, Mr Frodo?'
Frodo shook his head. 'I'm sure I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.'
As the days passed, Frodo took to wearing a glove on his right hand. It made it easier for Sam and Rose to put the fading hand out of mind. As the rest of him continued quite substantial, they soon grew used to the gloved hand and paid it no mind. As for Frodo, he stayed even closer to home after that, except for when Merry and Pippin visited, and were able to pry him from the house for a ride or walk in the woods, a rare enough occasion given the rainy weather.
One day dawned cold but clear, and Pippin coaxed his older cousins into a ride over the fields and through the woods. 'Come on!' he urged. 'We've been cooped up in Bag End until I have the name of every book in the study memorized.'
'You're joking,' Frodo said, his eyes wandering the shelves. 'Nobody could do that.'
'Watch,' Merry smiled. Pippin threw his arm over his eyes and began to recite, and to Frodo's astonishment he named every book on a middle shelf.
'We've got to get you out of here,' Frodo said in a worried tone.
'Great!' Pippin exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. 'I'll go get the ponies ready.'
Once they were well away, Merry and Frodo rode knee to knee while Pippin ranged ahead, singing to the sky.
'He memorized the books on that one shelf to pry me loose, didn't he?' Frodo asked.
Merry looked surprised. 'I wouldn't know,' he confessed. 'It's possible, but it's just as likely he knows them all. You never know what is going to come out of him next.'
'I hear he's cutting quite a swath through the lasses in the area.'
Merry chuckled. 'Yes. If I stick close to him I manage to get quite a few free dinners. He's taking advantage of it while he can. Knowing the Thain, he'll probably be married as soon as he comes of age, in order to secure an heir for the Great Smials, poor lad.'
Frodo eyed him. 'And how about you? Are your parents throwing lasses in your face, hoping for an heir to the Hall?'
Merry was silent, reaching down to stroke his pony's sleek neck.
'I'm sorry, Merry, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot.'
Merry looked up. 'O, it's not that,' he said, then seemed to be searching for the right words. 'My parents and I get along fine. They're so glad to see me come back from the dead, I could do practically anything I wanted and they wouldn't say "Boo". It's just...' Frodo remained silent, but he nodded encouragingly. Merry raised haunted eyes to his. 'What lass in her right mind would want to marry someone touched by Shadow?'
Frodo was stunned. The bright and gay spirit the King had spoken of when healing Merry was hardly evident. 'What do you mean?'
Merry said, 'The War is over, indeed, but the dreams have yet to stop.' Frodo nodded. He had dreams of his own, and sometimes, in the night, he would hear Samwise call out in the next room, and Rosie's soothing voice.
He understood now, why of all his relations, Merry never pressed him about marrying.
'I think...' Frodo said, choosing his words carefully, 'I think that you've got to give it some time. Healing takes time, you know. Even a little cut takes a few days to close, a broken bone takes a few weeks to set. A brush with Shadow might take a bit longer.'
Merry stared at him in astonishment, then broke out into a laugh. Frodo didn't know what he'd said that was so funny, but he chuckled, Merry's laugh was so contagious, and they rode along comfortably the rest of the way back to Bag End.