Setting: At minas Tirith after the crowning of the King. Friendship and Healing.

Forgive me if people and timings are out of place, it is only for my story.

Disclaimer: I humbly borrow these dear characters from Master Tolkien and promise to give them back unharmed

Chapter 5

Homesick

In the days that followed eating drinking and the telling of tales, both old and new filled their days.  Frodo's need for privacy was acknowledged and he was able to relax on his own terms. He knew that they all still watched him closely but if it became too intrusive he would jokingly threaten another eruption and they backed off in mock terror.

As the city filled up with returning families the bustle and noise of the newly awakened streets and markets drew the Hobbits.  They marvelled at the sights and smells and wandered happily among stalls and barrows. After a while, however, it became overwhelming to be constantly surrounded by so many 'big' people in confined spaces.

'It's not that I mind the crowds so much' Frodo explained to Sam, 'it's just the constant attention. I feel as if I'm on show, like everyone is watching me'.

'Well Mr Frodo, I recon we must seem strange to these 'ere big people. After all I don't suppose they've ever even heard of Hobbits'.

'I wish they never had' muttered Frodo to himself. 'If it hadn't been for the ring we would have been safe and sound in the Shire and nobody would have been any the wiser'

Yes, but if we'd stayed in the Shire I'd never 'ave seen an oliphant,!' chuckled Sam 'never in a blue moon'.

'No,' Conceded Frodo with a sad smile 'I don't suppose you would'

They walked on in silence for a while. Sam, turning to talk to Frodo, realised that he was no longer at his side.  Puzzled, he turned and quickly jogged back along the street to find him.  His puzzlement quickly turned to concern as he saw his master leaning over a low wall, his hands covering his face.

'Mr Frodo, what is it, are you alright?'

Sam put his arm around Frodo's shoulder to support him, feeling the still fragile frame, tense and shaking beneath his hand. 'Please Mr Frodo, tell me, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's ailing you?'

It took Frodo several deep breaths to get a degree of control….. before he trusted himself to speak. 'I'm OK Sam, I'm not ill. It's just…'

'I want to be home… back in the Shire…tucked up in Bag End with the door shut against troubles!' He fought to keep back the tears as the sense of homesickness threatened to overwhelm him.

'What have I got to go back to, Sam?' The despair in his voice palpable. 'There is no home for me at Bag End…. no family, no refuge, no purpose! The quest has taken it all'

'Beggin' you pardon Sir, but that's plain nonsense' said Sam firmly, He took hold of Frodo's hands and pulled him round until they were face to face.

'Now you just listen here' said Sam, 'you have friends and family who love you, you have a house at Crickhollow ready and waiting and full of your things, just waiting for you to come back and claim them. So I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense.'

'And for another thing, I'll be there with you for as long as you need me. I can cultivate a garden in Crickhollow just as easily as I can in Hobbiton….. and who knows you may just find someone special to share you life with… Someone to keep my Rosie company!!' he added with a grin.

'Oh Sam, does nothing ever dampens your spirit!  How do you do it Sam? How do you keep so cheerful'?

'I don't rightly know Sir, but it seems to me that life is just like a garden. You cares and tends it, giving everything the attention it deserves, and if your lucky it rewards you with lovely blooms or tender produce. People are just the same'.

'Look up there Mr Frodo, it's the same sun shines here as in the Shire, so I just keep thinking of all that's good and wholesome and right, and trusting that everything will all come right in the end'

Frodo reached out and squeezed the rough, calloused hand of his friend.

' I think we should get Gandalf to bottle you Sam, and hand out samples to everyone in Middle Earth' laughed Frodo, 'then there would be no doubt or uncertainty left, just plain Hobbit sense'. Sam blushed.

'You shouldn't make fun of me, Mr Frodo'

'I'm not Sam, you mean too much to me for me to ever do that'

'Now how about heading back, it must be time for lunch and if we don't hurry two notorious Hobbits of our acquaintance will have emptied the larder! Again!!'

'I can't imagine who you mean!' Sam grinned and linking arms the two friends started up the path towards the palace.

*******

In order to escape the confines of the city the four friends sought open spaces. They explored the foothills surrounding the plain, often tramping out all day, to return tired but relaxed in time to join in an ample feast in the evening. The gentle exercise, good food and sunshine soon told on the faces, and waistlines of the Hobbits. They all threw off the pallor and lethargy that lingered from their trials of the last few weeks.  Sometimes Legolas and Gimli joined them on their rambles, their good natured bickering a constant punctuation to the day.

To the delight of the Hobbits, when his duties allowed, Faramir took time out to join them.  As they tramped the footways Faramir regaled them with tales from his boyhood, of growing up with Boramir before his soldier training had taken him away from childish pursuits.  He saved his favourite haunt to share with only Frodo.  It had been his 'secret' hideaway away from the palace, his retreat following the death of his mother, when the pain of his grief and the indifference of his father had weighed him down. He had only found out many years later that it was a 'secret' known to others.

The secret place was an hour's hike from the city and could only be reached by one steep, rough path that wound up through the foothills.  The path ended at a small horseshoe shaped amphitheatre. Steep cliffs of stone curved round to enclose a small grassy meadow. A grove of tall graceful Rowan trees clustered to one side. The air was damp with the spray from a high narrow waterfall that dropped steeply to feed a deep clear pool, the water spilling into a lazy bubbling stream that flowed out of the grove and down to the plain below.

'Thank you for sharing this with me Faramir' whispered Frodo, afraid that even his voice would break the spell. 'I never imagined that anything this beautiful existed in Gondor.

He treasured the memory and tucked it away with his other visions; of Rivendell, Lothlorien and the Shire to be revisited when his memories turned to places of darkness.

*************

A few mornings later Frodo rose before sunrise and silently padded around his room collecting things together and putting them in his knapsack. He pulled his cloak around him and quietly slipped through the door.  He stopped outside Sams door but didn't go in.

'I'm sorry Sam' he whispered to himself 'I hope you can forgive me'

He made his way down to the kitchens where the cooks were already at work preparing for the day.  He stopped and had a quick breakfast and begged a large picnic. The cooks, now familiar with the ways of Hobbits, were happy to assist. Frodo handed a letter addressed to the King to the kitchen steward and requested that it be delivered when the King broke his fast.  Frodo thanked them and shouldering his now bulging pack made his way out.

As the Sun crested the mountains the small Hobbit slipped quietly and unobserved from the palace.

*******

*TBC*

A/N; A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. I really appreciate you comments. Please keep them coming.

Helen.