Chapter 3: A Comforter!
Frodo laughs happily and waves to the two hobbits in the boat. He is too far away to see their faces. But he knows they are the two people he loves most in all of Middle Earth.
He returns to picking wildflowers, which are scattered about the grass in glorious bright hues. The grass flies back and forth in the refreshing cool breeze; it has never looked greener nor felt so soft under the hobbit's feet. The sound of the water is so refreshing and peaceful to the mind. The sun smiles down on the Shire. Frodo pauses once again and, closing his eyes, lifts his face toward the sky. The day is perfect.
The short scream pierces the air. Frodo's eyes snap open, and he turns from the sun and toward the water. His breath catches in his throat. The white painted boat floats in the water – upside down! The wildflowers fall to the ground. Frodo races toward the bank. The water is still, and then it explodes as two heads emerge, arms fraying about.
Other hobbits come running. They will save them. They have to save them! Frodo wants to jump in to help but is held back by an aunt.
"Mama! Papa!" he screams fearfully, as he watches them sink underneath the waters again.
Several more times they resurface, each time they're under for a longer time. Finally, they do not appear again. Frodo stares at the water, hoping against hope. But the capsized boat only bobs gently in the sparkling water.
"NO!"
The sun turns its face away. The flowers sorrowfully lower their heads. The grass no longer flies. The water now sounds haunting. The wind picks up but no longer has a carefree feel. Thunder rumbles. Lightning streaks across the black sky. Rain pounds heavily into the ground.
Frodo does not notice, for his own tears hit the ground. He saw his parents die, but he did not see their faces. He breaks down sobbing.
"Frodo?"
Frodo starts and opens his eyes, breathing in quick, short gasps. He looks up into Gandalf's concerned face, which peers down at him from his bedside. Had he waken the wizard?
"Are you all right, little one?"
Frodo tries to shake the memory of the dream away from his mind.
"I'm… Just…just had a bad dream," Frodo tries to reassure his unexpected visitor and himself.
Gandalf shifts uncertainly and stands.
"Should I get Bilbo?"
"No," he hears the choked reply. "Do not wake him. Please, do not tell him."
The wizard looks at him and then takes a step towards the door.
A small hand grabs his sleeve. Gandalf turns back to the hobbit and sees fear in his eyes.
"Please don't leave." Frodo is unable to hold back the whimpers.
Gandalf hesitates, and then decides to stay. It really would not do to wake Bilbo unless the need seems to occur. He takes in the lad. He is shaking and his eyes appear to be sparkling, but are filled with unshed tears.
The wizard gently lifts the young hobbit into his arms, and sits himself in the chair by the fireplace. He tucks the blanket snuggly around the trembling body. Frodo presses his face into the beard, and then pulls away shyly.
For awhile there is a slightly uncomfortable silence between the hobbit and wizard, except for the crackling of the fire and the sound of the raging storm outside. Gandalf holds Frodo a little tensely, a little uncertainly. Frodo, however, is grateful for the warmth and soon snuggles closer to the wizard, relaxing a bit.
"Thank you," he whispers.
The corners of Gandalf's mouth turn up.
"It is no trouble, my boy," he answers.
"Did I wake you?"
"No, I was wake. You did not disturb me."
A pause.
"I am sorry," Frodo says guiltily, not feeling any better at dragging the wizard from whatever he had been doing.
Gandalf rubs the lad's back reassuringly and is silent for awhile. Then:
"What were you dreaming that causes you such sorrow?"
"I was dreaming about my Mama and Papa, and their drowning," Frodo answers softly. "I am always unable to help them. I can only watch helplessly with the others. And I can never see their faces." He lowers his head as the tears come.
Gandalf feels pity stir in his heart. With his hand he gently wipes away the tears from the lad's face. His arms now hold the hobbit protectively and gently.
"I remember your mother and father," Gandalf says quietly.
Frodo, for the first time since waking up, looks up and meets Gandalf's eyes. "You do?"
The wizard nods. "I recall seeing them on some of my visits to the Shire. Would you like to hear some stories about them?"
Frodo rubs his nose on his sleeve and nods eagerly. "Oh, yes, please. Thank you, Gandalf."
Frodo is comforted as he listens to stories about his parents and no longer pays any heed to the stormy weather. After awhile he falls into a peaceful and deep sleep. Gandalf, however, stares into the dying cinders of the fire for a long time, in his mind replaying when his name fell from Frodo's lips.
