11.
Seeing is Believing
'It grieves me to see you this way, Ring-bearer,' Celeborn said.
'Not to see me, you mean,' Frodo said quietly.
Celeborn nodded. 'Mithrandir said that this might happen, as an effect of the
Morgul wound and your...' he looked compassionately at the hobbit, 'your
claiming of the Ruling Ring in the end.'
Frodo nodded sadly. 'I have been well punished for that moment of weakness.'
Celebron continued, 'Even without that failure, it might have happened. It has
happened to elves who did not become wraiths, because their wounds were probed
and Morgul slivers removed in time to save them.' His look grew faraway, as he
added, '...like a glass filled with a clear light for eyes to see that can.'
'Do you mean to tell me there are invisible elves running about Middle Earth?'
Frodo asked. 'It sounds like a fairy story to me.' Celeborn smiled faintly.
'No, Frodo, there are no invisible elves, "running about" as you so
quaintly put it.'
'You said in your letter that there is something the elves know about,
some way of reversing the process!' Frodo pressed.
Samwise started. He hadn't known about a letter from Rivendell.
Celeborn hesitated, then admitted, 'There is a potion...' He added gravely,
'You must understand, as I told you in my letter, this is a very risky venture.
You may regain your appearance, but you have just as good a chance of dying in
the attempt.'
'Are you trying to say you think half a life is better than none?' Frodo asked
him.
Celeborn answered, 'I cannot tell you what to do, I can only offer you the
choice and tell you what the possible outcomes are.'
Frodo chuckled and shook his head. ' "Never ask an elf for advice, he'll
tell you 'yea' and 'nay' in the same breath." '
Celeborn smiled faintly. 'Funny,' he said, 'That's the same thing my wife said
when I asked her if I ought to leave or stay.'
'Mr Frodo?' Sam said anxiously. Was his master desperate enough to do this
dangerous thing?
'Sam,' Frodo said gently. 'Do you really think I have a choice?'
'But...'
'I could cut myself tomorrow and bleed to death before anyone could find the
wound to staunch it,' Frodo said bluntly. 'Or perhaps should I leave the Shire
and go to live with Tom Bombadil. He seems to be the only one who can see me!'
He turned to Celeborn, 'Except, perhaps for some of the Firstborn when they
stand upon the other side.
'So, shall I leave the Shire and live with Bombadil, or among the elves, as
long as elves remain in Middle Earth? Either way, I'd have to leave. Dying's
just a little quicker, is all, and it's not a sure thing in this case.' He
gripped Sam's arms, hard. 'If there's even a small chance at life, I have to
take it. Don't you see?'
'No,' Sam said. 'No, I don't see.' He sighed. 'And I suppose that's the
problem.' He looked at what he could see of his master, the outer shell of
clothing and bandages. 'But I'll stick with you, whatever you decide. Haven't I
always?' Frodo's hands squeezed once more, and released him.
'When do you want to try?' asked Celeborn.
'Now's as good a time as any,' Frodo answered. He began to unwind the bandages
from his face, to free his mouth for drinking.
Celeborn indicated a couch. 'At the least you'll be dizzy,' he said. He didn't
have to say what the worst would be.
Frodo sat down. His gloved hands reached for Samwise, and Sam took them in his
own. From the sound of his voice, Sam knew his master was looking at him
earnestly. 'Samwise,' he said, 'If this doesn't work out...'
'I know,' Sam said. And he did know. He was to give Frodo's love to all who
loved him. He knew, also, that Frodo was saying that friendship endured even
when the friends themselves were gone.
Frodo's voice was directed back at Celeborn. 'Right, then,' he said. 'Let us
see what we shall see.'
I hope so, thought Sam. I surely hope so.
Celeborn took a glass vial from a cubby in the ornate desk, of exquisite elvish
workmanship. Sam could see nothing within, at first, he was expecting liquid,
some sort of elixir or something like miruvor. Looking more closely, he could
see clear fumes rising and curling within the glass.
'Put it to your mouth as soon as you remove the stopper,' Celeborn instructed.
'You do not want to lose any of the vapour.'
'Right,' Frodo answered. He took the vial Celeborn offered, held it between his
gloved hands, took a long breath. 'I'm ready,' he said. Sam had a terrible
impulse to jump forward, shout, knock the vial from his hands, but before he
could move Frodo had pulled the stopper and the vial tilted, the vapours
swirled from the vial and were gone.
Frodo gave a great shudder and fell back on the couch, dropping the vial to
smash against the stones. Sam started forward, falling to his knees by the
couch. 'Mr Frodo!' he called. There was no answer.
Sam looked up at Celeborn, but the elf was watching Frodo intently. Celeborn
said softly, 'He will become visible soon, whether in life, or in death.' Sam
remembered the hair clippings that appeared out of nowhere when separated from
Frodo's living body.
He looked back to Frodo and gasped. It seemed as though he could see the
outlines of Frodo's face, as if he were looking at a glass filled with a nearly
clear liquid. As he watched, the outlines became clearer, the color stronger,
until suddenly, he could see the beloved face that had been hidden from him
these past months. But the face was pale, the eyes closed, no breath seemed to
stir the ashen lips.
Sam felt Celeborn's hand on his shoulder. 'Frodo?' he said softly. Celeborn's
hand tightened. 'Mr Frodo?' he repeated. With every breath he took, he willed
Frodo to breathe, but his hope was fading. 'Don't leave me now, Mr Frodo,' he
pleaded.
'Come away, Master Samwise,' Celeborn said gently. 'He's been set free of the
spell, as he wanted.'
'No,' Sam choked. He reached for one of the gloved hands, taking it between his
own two strong hands. 'Mr Frodo?'
The eyelids fluttered, and then Frodo was looking at him, colour slowly coming
into his face. 'Why, Sam,' he smiled. 'What a dream I've been having... It's
good to see you!'
'It's good to see you, too, Mr Frodo,' Sam replied simply. And it was.
