Author's note: Thanks to Aly Teima, Bronwyn, and Amrun for the kind
reviews! I appreciate the feedback and the encourangement.
Chapter 4 Alone in Minas Tirith
Frodo stared moodily out across the meadow in front of the Healer's tent. It had been several days since he first awoke in the sunlit bower in Ithilien, and he had never been more miserable in his life. After the destruction of the Ring, he had felt a strange emptiness within, but it was nothing compared to the heart-rending loss he felt upon learning of Sam's death. It was all his fault, of course. He should never have allowed faithful Samwise Gamgee to follow him on this perilous quest. Sam should have stayed home, safe and sound in the Shire, caring for the gardens of Bag End and courting the lovely Rosie Cotton. Mordor was no place for such as him. Frodo pondered that thought for a moment. Truth be told, Mordor wasn't a place for anyone. His friends had all reassured him over and over that Sam's death was not his fault, but Frodo simply couldn't accept that. He was responsible for Sam and Sam had not returned from black lands of Mordor. If anyone should have died in that horrible place, it should have been him.
Frodo gave a small sob and buried his head in his hands. He lifted his head when he felt a warm hand gently rest on his shoulder. "Hello, Gandalf," he said wearily.
The tall wizard looked sadly down on his small friend. Gandalf had been very worried about Frodo ever since he had been brought out of the fires of Mordor. He knew the loss of the Ring would be hard for the Hobbit to bear, but Gandalf hadn't counted on Frodo having to endure the loss of his dearest companion as well. Frodo had been deeply depressed ever since learning of Sam's death and his recovery was not going as well as they had hoped. The weary hobbit had little appetite and did not sleep well. His dreams were all of pain and loss. It had gotten to the point where he could only sleep through the night if drugged or placed under a sleeping spell. Aragorn's healing powers had saved his life, of course, but they couldn't mend a broken heart.
"How are you feeling today, Frodo?" asked Gandalf gently. "It is a beautiful day. Would you like to spend some time in the gardens?" Frodo had not left the tent except for the day he was honored for his completion of the quest. Frodo didn't want to remember that day. All he could think about was his missing friend. He certainly didn't feel like a hero. Of course, Sam was also honored, but what did those people know about what really happened in Mordor? How could they possibly understand that the only reason the quest didn't end in total disaster was because of Sam's efforts? Except for a few elves and the remaining members of the Fellowship, Samwise Gamgee would be nothing more than a name on a monument. Few outside of the Shire would have any idea who he had been. Frodo knew he himself would be remembered as the Savior of Middle Earth, but it wasn't true.
"No," replied Frodo dully. "I prefer to stay here. I get weary of people pointing at me and cheering. I know they think I destroyed the Ring and saved them all and I can't stand living a lie."
"Frodo Baggins, you are not living a lie!" growled Gandalf irritably. They had been over this before. "You managed to resist the power of the Ring and take it to the Cracks of Doom when no other could have managed it. Maybe you did not throw the Ring into the fires yourself, but it never would have gotten there without you! Despite what you might say, you are a hero!"
"I wouldn't have gotten very far without Sam!" retorted Frodo, staring out into the distance. He watched the soldiers from different lands going about their business in the camp and it made him yearn for the familiarity of his home in Hobbiton. "Time after time Sam kept me going. He carried me up the very slopes of Mt. Doom on his back! He gave me the water and Lembas without taking any for himself. He never lost hope. Never! Even when he thought I had been killed by that vile monster, Shelob, he still had the heart to attempt to finish the quest alone. It was his belief in me and his determination to see the thing through to the bitter end that saved us. Not me! Not only did I fail to destroy the Ring, I killed my dearest and most faithful friend! How can I go on?" He buried his head in his arms and rested them on his knees. His grief and sense of guilt was an overwhelming burden and he just didn't see how he could carry on much longer.
Gandalf continued to study his dear friend. How could he help Frodo out of this black cloud of depression? He had tried all the usual arguments and rational discussions, but Frodo couldn't see past his pain. He was wasting away before their very eyes and unless they could give him some reason to keep on living, they would lose him. He was seriously considering having Aragon put Frodo back into a healing sleep until they could figure out a way to help him. At least he would be free from his dark thoughts and misery for a time. If something didn't happen to bring Frodo out of his despair, they may not have any choice.
Gandalf turned at the sound of a light knock on the support pole of the tent. Pippin's head could be seen peering in through the tent door. "Hullo!" he called quietly, "Can we come in?"
Gandalf smiled at the sight of the young hobbit. Pippin and Merry had been frequent visitors and it always seemed to cheer Frodo up. "Good morning, Master Took!" greeted the wizard, "Yes, do come in. Perhaps you can talk some sense into your stubborn cousin!" Pippin slipped inside the room carrying a large basket. Merry followed close behind carrying one of his own. Gandalf deciding that perhaps it would be best if he left the hobbits alone, slipped out of the tent, closing the flap behind him.
"We brought you some breakfast, Frodo!" announce Merry, ignoring Frodo's forlorn look. "You lost a lot of weight on your journey, something no self-respecting hobbit should do, and we need to fatten you up!"
Frodo sighed. "Thank you, Merry," he began, "But I'm really not hungry." However, a small smile formed on his pale lips as he watched his cousins set up an elaborate table with fancy china and silver.
Merry continued as if he hadn't heard, "One of Prince Imrahil's servants lent us some of the Prince's best tableware. We told him that we needed to set a fine table for one of the most famous hobbits in Middle Earth! At first he wasn't going to trust us (it didn't help that Pippin dropped one of the plates!) but, in the end we convinced him to let us use it. If you refuse to join us, we're sure the Prince will take great offense and no doubt be forced to go to war with the Shire because of this affront. So you see, in the name of world peace, you must dine with us!"
For the first time since he woke, Frodo laughed. Not a large laugh perhaps, but a laugh all the same and it gave the others hope. "Alright, Meriodoc Brandybuck, Knight of the Mark," he agreed, with a slight smile still playing about his lips, " I will join you for breakfast. I wouldn't want to insult the good Prince! Just don't expect me to eat too much!"
So, Frodo sat down with his cousins and began to eat. He found that once he started, his appetite was far greater than he imagined. It was still nothing like that of a normal hobbit, but it went a long way in getting much needed nourishment into Frodo's wasted body. He found that after eating and spending time with Pippin and Merry, listening to their adventures, he felt better than he had in a long time. As time went on, he was finally able to tell some of his own dark journey. By opening up to his dear friends, he was able to release some of his deepest pain and that was a major step towards his own recovery. Maybe he would be able to carry on after all.
Chapter 4 Alone in Minas Tirith
Frodo stared moodily out across the meadow in front of the Healer's tent. It had been several days since he first awoke in the sunlit bower in Ithilien, and he had never been more miserable in his life. After the destruction of the Ring, he had felt a strange emptiness within, but it was nothing compared to the heart-rending loss he felt upon learning of Sam's death. It was all his fault, of course. He should never have allowed faithful Samwise Gamgee to follow him on this perilous quest. Sam should have stayed home, safe and sound in the Shire, caring for the gardens of Bag End and courting the lovely Rosie Cotton. Mordor was no place for such as him. Frodo pondered that thought for a moment. Truth be told, Mordor wasn't a place for anyone. His friends had all reassured him over and over that Sam's death was not his fault, but Frodo simply couldn't accept that. He was responsible for Sam and Sam had not returned from black lands of Mordor. If anyone should have died in that horrible place, it should have been him.
Frodo gave a small sob and buried his head in his hands. He lifted his head when he felt a warm hand gently rest on his shoulder. "Hello, Gandalf," he said wearily.
The tall wizard looked sadly down on his small friend. Gandalf had been very worried about Frodo ever since he had been brought out of the fires of Mordor. He knew the loss of the Ring would be hard for the Hobbit to bear, but Gandalf hadn't counted on Frodo having to endure the loss of his dearest companion as well. Frodo had been deeply depressed ever since learning of Sam's death and his recovery was not going as well as they had hoped. The weary hobbit had little appetite and did not sleep well. His dreams were all of pain and loss. It had gotten to the point where he could only sleep through the night if drugged or placed under a sleeping spell. Aragorn's healing powers had saved his life, of course, but they couldn't mend a broken heart.
"How are you feeling today, Frodo?" asked Gandalf gently. "It is a beautiful day. Would you like to spend some time in the gardens?" Frodo had not left the tent except for the day he was honored for his completion of the quest. Frodo didn't want to remember that day. All he could think about was his missing friend. He certainly didn't feel like a hero. Of course, Sam was also honored, but what did those people know about what really happened in Mordor? How could they possibly understand that the only reason the quest didn't end in total disaster was because of Sam's efforts? Except for a few elves and the remaining members of the Fellowship, Samwise Gamgee would be nothing more than a name on a monument. Few outside of the Shire would have any idea who he had been. Frodo knew he himself would be remembered as the Savior of Middle Earth, but it wasn't true.
"No," replied Frodo dully. "I prefer to stay here. I get weary of people pointing at me and cheering. I know they think I destroyed the Ring and saved them all and I can't stand living a lie."
"Frodo Baggins, you are not living a lie!" growled Gandalf irritably. They had been over this before. "You managed to resist the power of the Ring and take it to the Cracks of Doom when no other could have managed it. Maybe you did not throw the Ring into the fires yourself, but it never would have gotten there without you! Despite what you might say, you are a hero!"
"I wouldn't have gotten very far without Sam!" retorted Frodo, staring out into the distance. He watched the soldiers from different lands going about their business in the camp and it made him yearn for the familiarity of his home in Hobbiton. "Time after time Sam kept me going. He carried me up the very slopes of Mt. Doom on his back! He gave me the water and Lembas without taking any for himself. He never lost hope. Never! Even when he thought I had been killed by that vile monster, Shelob, he still had the heart to attempt to finish the quest alone. It was his belief in me and his determination to see the thing through to the bitter end that saved us. Not me! Not only did I fail to destroy the Ring, I killed my dearest and most faithful friend! How can I go on?" He buried his head in his arms and rested them on his knees. His grief and sense of guilt was an overwhelming burden and he just didn't see how he could carry on much longer.
Gandalf continued to study his dear friend. How could he help Frodo out of this black cloud of depression? He had tried all the usual arguments and rational discussions, but Frodo couldn't see past his pain. He was wasting away before their very eyes and unless they could give him some reason to keep on living, they would lose him. He was seriously considering having Aragon put Frodo back into a healing sleep until they could figure out a way to help him. At least he would be free from his dark thoughts and misery for a time. If something didn't happen to bring Frodo out of his despair, they may not have any choice.
Gandalf turned at the sound of a light knock on the support pole of the tent. Pippin's head could be seen peering in through the tent door. "Hullo!" he called quietly, "Can we come in?"
Gandalf smiled at the sight of the young hobbit. Pippin and Merry had been frequent visitors and it always seemed to cheer Frodo up. "Good morning, Master Took!" greeted the wizard, "Yes, do come in. Perhaps you can talk some sense into your stubborn cousin!" Pippin slipped inside the room carrying a large basket. Merry followed close behind carrying one of his own. Gandalf deciding that perhaps it would be best if he left the hobbits alone, slipped out of the tent, closing the flap behind him.
"We brought you some breakfast, Frodo!" announce Merry, ignoring Frodo's forlorn look. "You lost a lot of weight on your journey, something no self-respecting hobbit should do, and we need to fatten you up!"
Frodo sighed. "Thank you, Merry," he began, "But I'm really not hungry." However, a small smile formed on his pale lips as he watched his cousins set up an elaborate table with fancy china and silver.
Merry continued as if he hadn't heard, "One of Prince Imrahil's servants lent us some of the Prince's best tableware. We told him that we needed to set a fine table for one of the most famous hobbits in Middle Earth! At first he wasn't going to trust us (it didn't help that Pippin dropped one of the plates!) but, in the end we convinced him to let us use it. If you refuse to join us, we're sure the Prince will take great offense and no doubt be forced to go to war with the Shire because of this affront. So you see, in the name of world peace, you must dine with us!"
For the first time since he woke, Frodo laughed. Not a large laugh perhaps, but a laugh all the same and it gave the others hope. "Alright, Meriodoc Brandybuck, Knight of the Mark," he agreed, with a slight smile still playing about his lips, " I will join you for breakfast. I wouldn't want to insult the good Prince! Just don't expect me to eat too much!"
So, Frodo sat down with his cousins and began to eat. He found that once he started, his appetite was far greater than he imagined. It was still nothing like that of a normal hobbit, but it went a long way in getting much needed nourishment into Frodo's wasted body. He found that after eating and spending time with Pippin and Merry, listening to their adventures, he felt better than he had in a long time. As time went on, he was finally able to tell some of his own dark journey. By opening up to his dear friends, he was able to release some of his deepest pain and that was a major step towards his own recovery. Maybe he would be able to carry on after all.