A/N: This is a fanfiction to Skye's fanfiction "Just Don't Have the Heart
to End It" I suggest reading that before you read this. Thank you .
This is an A/U tale about what would have happened to Frodo if he had not taken the ship to Valinor.
~~~
Elanor moved gracefully about the large smial darkness etched in the corners of the grim rooms, ancient nightmares that clung to the walls and she had long grown weary of their squalor. Aloft in her outstretched arm flickered the warm glow of a candle but its weak light could not penetrate the grotesque images that hung in the very air and invaded ones thinking. The fair lady's mother now grown bent and weary but not without her shimmer and charm could be heard softly in the kitchen. Elanor picked up her mother's soft voice accompanied by the strong yet subtle tenor of her husbands. A wan smile graced Elanor's featured until another sound reached her ears and she guarded the candle with one fair slender hand as if the very sound itself would squelch all light. The voices in the kitchen paused.
Elanor could feel the glow of the kitchen warm on her cheeks until she turned the corner and continued down the corridor. Small golden shafts ripped through the darkness under each door and Elanor knew that her brothers and sisters were laying awake in their beds listening to the broken cries. With one hand she lifted her long flowing skirts, elegant and fine. Her feet quickened wondering where her father was. He had not been in the kitchen with them and had gone missing right after dinner. Now the cries from the study revealed he was not there. Elanor tried to comfort herself with thoughts of him going to bed and sleeping through this all. He had had quite a bit of wine if not enough to make him drowsy. Sam wasn't what he used to be.
Her candle fluttered as she delved deeper into the hobbit hole once so bright and sunny in a once upon a time. But it seemed now the walls were warped with the weight of grief and years and coldness had crept through the floorboards and the walls had forgotten all sounds of laughter and mirth and all things once fair and sweet. Darkness consumed her candle until the light seemed nothing but a firefly moig steadily through the hall. With a light breath it was gone and she was free to grope around for some hold. Another cry and her pace quickened. Elanor's mind raced for thought beyond the darkness and recalled memories of golden sunrises and silver moons with glistening stars to light a dark night. Flowers heavy with scent and bird song. There was no sound now but the heavy pad of her feet as she lifted her dress and ran. Too silent. A grey sky laced with silver and gold as the sun peered over the hills. Elanor reached the door and stopped. Her heart was pounding and beyond the fear and doubt she heard a voice so frail, quivering through the cold air.
"...all darkness beyond reckoning of all else..."
She put a trembling hand to her mouth to stay a gasp as pity swelled in her heart. She lay the other hand on the cold doorknob and gave it a twist. The door did not give way and she knew her father had not entered there. Her hand slipped off as she turned to go and brushed against the cold iron filigree of a key jutting out. She had not left the key in the lock before. Elanor wondered what had become of her father but she could not leave this poor creature to the torment of those merciless things lurking behind the shadows of his mind. She gave the key a turn and her golden head peered in the room.
"You said you'd never leave. Never leave me."
A thin and pale creature paced about the floor rubbing his shoulders with bony hands. His bare white chest shimmered with a cold light of a dying star and Elanor wondered what had become of his sweater. Her eyes peered around the room and found the grey garment ripped to shreds and thrown in the corner. She could not tear her gaze away for long and before she knew it she was watching him again with such swelling fear and pity she thought that it would crash like a wave upon her and she'd fall to her knees for she'd know naught but anguish and despair. It thrived in that room, breathed deep its life and exhaled its foul, cold breath. Elanor shuddered.
The hobbit inside knew nothing of her existance, his wide eyes, red rimmed and sparkling madly, flew about the room so wildly one would wonder if he could see anything but a blur. Oh but he saw so much more. What was beyond the dark room. Beyond the blackness and cold of night. He saw a wheel of fire burning in his mind. He cried out and Elanor winced.
"And yet there is naught but emptyness here!" He held out his hands as if he felt water slipping through them and yet he tried to grasp on, as impossible as it was. He reached the wall in his pacing and clawed at it wildly. "Forever beyond reckoning and forever beyond my reach as I sink."
"Oh Frodo," Elanor whispered, more to herself than anything, and if anything but the dark walls and the wicked nightmares heard her it was not let known.
"Deep and cold, far below the surface and without breath and sight." His eyes grew wide. "You've forgotten to bury me!" He threw his head back, icy tears trailing down his neck and chest only chilling his frigid skin more. And with that his voice broke in a strange noise, higher and higher and Elanor perceived such an uncouth sound her ears strained in hearing. He laughed so brokenly tears sprung in the fair lass's eyes. "You've forgotten to bury me!" He screeched to the ceiling. He paused and seemed to harken the lost sound of his own maddened voice echoing in darkness. Slowly his head came back down and a lost look came into his eyes. He curled his hands tight around him. "Death... does not want me... And you've left me! You promised! You said you never would!"
He bowed his head and now his voice cracked so high and frightened he squeaked. "You promised."
Elanor began to wonder about her father again but could not tear herself away. He needed him now and Elanor could do naught but watch in growing horror.
"Sing to me again and all would but be made right."
The fair lass thought of the Red Book and the part she did not like to hear. When Sam searched for Frodo for so long after the Great Spider had almost done him in. And on a cold stone the stout-hearted gardener sat and sang.
"You used to be there, always. You used to care for me. Was I not a good master?"
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, if only you knew how much my father loved you, still loves you. Sam never stopped loving you."
"...all that was left to me and now dimmed in memory. Beyond my grasp but you were there once and have now left me when I need you the most."
He ran his hands through his hair and trembled as he slowly sank to the groud. He clawed his hand across his face and the missing finger left no mark for only now a ghost existed. "What have I done?" he muttered. "What have I done? What-" he spat it now and could not finish as he began to break down into sobs. He clawed at his face with both hands and he hunched over his knees. He cried so loudly, not fearing being heard. He knew of no other being.
"I need you now. Forgive me! I've always needed you! If I could be but stronger would you then have me! If I could do it again... do it right, would you not have forsaken this wretch!"
"I am but a shadow of your master now and you would not but bury me. Do this one thing for a poor old corpse. Is it not enought that I am dead I must be stone still for such a privelege! Let me rest." He layed out on the floor and stared at the ceiling. "Grand me but this one wish. Let them come to bury me."
There was silence, cold in the air and the shadows contorted on the walls. Elanor watched with growing realization that he did not intend to move until this fit passed or another began. She made to fetch her father, so desperate was she to find him. Did he not know that Frodo craved his voice, clutched his touch, relished in his presence as a gift undeserved? Did he not see this? Elanor lifted her skirts when the still figure rose up and pounded the floor with all his might.
"I am dead without you! Blackness and death! Curse you! You left me! How I hate you! I hate you!" He calmed, sobbing all the more. "You had loved me once. Stuck by, so close." A trembling hand slowly made to rest over his right breast. "So close to my heart." He spoke as if in a transe, staring widely off into unknown places. "...my heart..."
His head jerked around as if he was looking for something. "I can remember... I lost you once... and you found me... will you not come for me again..."
He waited, slowly the shadows crept back in and Elanor wanted to cry out for some sound or to send the nightmares scattering again. Frodo craned his neck and began to tremble. "Why have you cast me away? Why do you no longer want me? Cast me not I wish to but see you again! Hear you again! Is this not punishment enough for my weakness!?" He held out a scarred, lifeless arm. "I have punished myself for this. Does this not please you? This weak arm, this wretched hand, this worthless shoulder all betrayed, all sacraficed... all for you..."
Elanor backed away. This had gone too far. This was far too much. She needed to find Sam. A desperation ignited in her and her eyes shone with tears.
"...kill me quickly... bury me soon... let me lie beneath the moon..."
Elanor turned when she heard a sob and she froze. This was not Frodo's sob. She spun back around and continued down the hall. The next door was to her parents' room. Her father had wanted to be close to Frodo to hear him at night. Elanor peered in the warmly lit room and saw her father sitting on the edge of the bed, head bent, sobbing quietly. The candles lit the room with warmth and the shadows did not often linger with Sam. She felt comfortable and wished to sit on her father's knee and ask for a story as she had done so many times. But now Samwise seemed small, broken and frightened and for a moment all the images of Samwise the Brave blurred in Elanor's teary vision. Here sat no hero, no brave knight, or savior, or elf- warrior. Here sat a broken gardener, frightened and lost, weeping for the loss of his master and the burden on his family. Here sat a humble servant watching his master slip away from him, watching the home his beloved master gave him be consumed by the shadow that lay heavily on their hearts. And Elanor felt an anger fire up within her stomach and it burned all the way up her throat and her eyes shone with it. It was not fair. So much had to be lost, so much sacraficed and for what she could not even remember. The wounds were too deep, the pain was too much. They could not relish this new world her father had given her. Not when so much was lost.
She stepped forward and realized had already known she was there. Another cry ripped through the walls. "Why have you forsaken me!?"
Urgency lit in Elanor again. "Father! Father! Do you not hear him crying out?" She became suddenly angry. He had been here the whole time. He had heard it all and felt no need to comfort his master. Why had he done nothing? Why had he done nothing for the pitiful tortured creature that he had once loved with all his heart. "Father!" she cried and then so softly she could barely hear herself. "Will you do nothing?"
Sam looked up and his eyes were red and full of tears. He stared at his most lovely daughter as another shriek tore through the air. Neither daughter nor father moved. They stared at eachother, Elanor with compassionate urgency and Sam with confused anguish. "Father!" then she whispered seeing that he did not move. "Father please... do something... would you have him suffer?"
Anger flared in Sam's eyes. "Would I have him suffer?! I would rather lay down my life than see him this way! It rips through me like knives you silly girl!"
Elanor was shocked and hurt. "Father... can you not hear his cries? He calls for you. He needs you now, more than ever he needs you! Quick before he must endure another moment without you!" With every word she came closer to her father as he sat motionless on the bed. She fell to her knees before him and grasped his hands, kneeding them beseechingly. She gazed up at him wide eyed, pleading. "He calls for you."
"Elanor-lass... It is not me he calls to..."
Another shriek ripped through the air. "My Ring! My precious Ring! Why have you left me!? Why have you forsaken me!? I'd do anything to get you back! See what I have done! All in sacrafice! For you... my precious Ring..."
This is an A/U tale about what would have happened to Frodo if he had not taken the ship to Valinor.
~~~
Elanor moved gracefully about the large smial darkness etched in the corners of the grim rooms, ancient nightmares that clung to the walls and she had long grown weary of their squalor. Aloft in her outstretched arm flickered the warm glow of a candle but its weak light could not penetrate the grotesque images that hung in the very air and invaded ones thinking. The fair lady's mother now grown bent and weary but not without her shimmer and charm could be heard softly in the kitchen. Elanor picked up her mother's soft voice accompanied by the strong yet subtle tenor of her husbands. A wan smile graced Elanor's featured until another sound reached her ears and she guarded the candle with one fair slender hand as if the very sound itself would squelch all light. The voices in the kitchen paused.
Elanor could feel the glow of the kitchen warm on her cheeks until she turned the corner and continued down the corridor. Small golden shafts ripped through the darkness under each door and Elanor knew that her brothers and sisters were laying awake in their beds listening to the broken cries. With one hand she lifted her long flowing skirts, elegant and fine. Her feet quickened wondering where her father was. He had not been in the kitchen with them and had gone missing right after dinner. Now the cries from the study revealed he was not there. Elanor tried to comfort herself with thoughts of him going to bed and sleeping through this all. He had had quite a bit of wine if not enough to make him drowsy. Sam wasn't what he used to be.
Her candle fluttered as she delved deeper into the hobbit hole once so bright and sunny in a once upon a time. But it seemed now the walls were warped with the weight of grief and years and coldness had crept through the floorboards and the walls had forgotten all sounds of laughter and mirth and all things once fair and sweet. Darkness consumed her candle until the light seemed nothing but a firefly moig steadily through the hall. With a light breath it was gone and she was free to grope around for some hold. Another cry and her pace quickened. Elanor's mind raced for thought beyond the darkness and recalled memories of golden sunrises and silver moons with glistening stars to light a dark night. Flowers heavy with scent and bird song. There was no sound now but the heavy pad of her feet as she lifted her dress and ran. Too silent. A grey sky laced with silver and gold as the sun peered over the hills. Elanor reached the door and stopped. Her heart was pounding and beyond the fear and doubt she heard a voice so frail, quivering through the cold air.
"...all darkness beyond reckoning of all else..."
She put a trembling hand to her mouth to stay a gasp as pity swelled in her heart. She lay the other hand on the cold doorknob and gave it a twist. The door did not give way and she knew her father had not entered there. Her hand slipped off as she turned to go and brushed against the cold iron filigree of a key jutting out. She had not left the key in the lock before. Elanor wondered what had become of her father but she could not leave this poor creature to the torment of those merciless things lurking behind the shadows of his mind. She gave the key a turn and her golden head peered in the room.
"You said you'd never leave. Never leave me."
A thin and pale creature paced about the floor rubbing his shoulders with bony hands. His bare white chest shimmered with a cold light of a dying star and Elanor wondered what had become of his sweater. Her eyes peered around the room and found the grey garment ripped to shreds and thrown in the corner. She could not tear her gaze away for long and before she knew it she was watching him again with such swelling fear and pity she thought that it would crash like a wave upon her and she'd fall to her knees for she'd know naught but anguish and despair. It thrived in that room, breathed deep its life and exhaled its foul, cold breath. Elanor shuddered.
The hobbit inside knew nothing of her existance, his wide eyes, red rimmed and sparkling madly, flew about the room so wildly one would wonder if he could see anything but a blur. Oh but he saw so much more. What was beyond the dark room. Beyond the blackness and cold of night. He saw a wheel of fire burning in his mind. He cried out and Elanor winced.
"And yet there is naught but emptyness here!" He held out his hands as if he felt water slipping through them and yet he tried to grasp on, as impossible as it was. He reached the wall in his pacing and clawed at it wildly. "Forever beyond reckoning and forever beyond my reach as I sink."
"Oh Frodo," Elanor whispered, more to herself than anything, and if anything but the dark walls and the wicked nightmares heard her it was not let known.
"Deep and cold, far below the surface and without breath and sight." His eyes grew wide. "You've forgotten to bury me!" He threw his head back, icy tears trailing down his neck and chest only chilling his frigid skin more. And with that his voice broke in a strange noise, higher and higher and Elanor perceived such an uncouth sound her ears strained in hearing. He laughed so brokenly tears sprung in the fair lass's eyes. "You've forgotten to bury me!" He screeched to the ceiling. He paused and seemed to harken the lost sound of his own maddened voice echoing in darkness. Slowly his head came back down and a lost look came into his eyes. He curled his hands tight around him. "Death... does not want me... And you've left me! You promised! You said you never would!"
He bowed his head and now his voice cracked so high and frightened he squeaked. "You promised."
Elanor began to wonder about her father again but could not tear herself away. He needed him now and Elanor could do naught but watch in growing horror.
"Sing to me again and all would but be made right."
The fair lass thought of the Red Book and the part she did not like to hear. When Sam searched for Frodo for so long after the Great Spider had almost done him in. And on a cold stone the stout-hearted gardener sat and sang.
"You used to be there, always. You used to care for me. Was I not a good master?"
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, if only you knew how much my father loved you, still loves you. Sam never stopped loving you."
"...all that was left to me and now dimmed in memory. Beyond my grasp but you were there once and have now left me when I need you the most."
He ran his hands through his hair and trembled as he slowly sank to the groud. He clawed his hand across his face and the missing finger left no mark for only now a ghost existed. "What have I done?" he muttered. "What have I done? What-" he spat it now and could not finish as he began to break down into sobs. He clawed at his face with both hands and he hunched over his knees. He cried so loudly, not fearing being heard. He knew of no other being.
"I need you now. Forgive me! I've always needed you! If I could be but stronger would you then have me! If I could do it again... do it right, would you not have forsaken this wretch!"
"I am but a shadow of your master now and you would not but bury me. Do this one thing for a poor old corpse. Is it not enought that I am dead I must be stone still for such a privelege! Let me rest." He layed out on the floor and stared at the ceiling. "Grand me but this one wish. Let them come to bury me."
There was silence, cold in the air and the shadows contorted on the walls. Elanor watched with growing realization that he did not intend to move until this fit passed or another began. She made to fetch her father, so desperate was she to find him. Did he not know that Frodo craved his voice, clutched his touch, relished in his presence as a gift undeserved? Did he not see this? Elanor lifted her skirts when the still figure rose up and pounded the floor with all his might.
"I am dead without you! Blackness and death! Curse you! You left me! How I hate you! I hate you!" He calmed, sobbing all the more. "You had loved me once. Stuck by, so close." A trembling hand slowly made to rest over his right breast. "So close to my heart." He spoke as if in a transe, staring widely off into unknown places. "...my heart..."
His head jerked around as if he was looking for something. "I can remember... I lost you once... and you found me... will you not come for me again..."
He waited, slowly the shadows crept back in and Elanor wanted to cry out for some sound or to send the nightmares scattering again. Frodo craned his neck and began to tremble. "Why have you cast me away? Why do you no longer want me? Cast me not I wish to but see you again! Hear you again! Is this not punishment enough for my weakness!?" He held out a scarred, lifeless arm. "I have punished myself for this. Does this not please you? This weak arm, this wretched hand, this worthless shoulder all betrayed, all sacraficed... all for you..."
Elanor backed away. This had gone too far. This was far too much. She needed to find Sam. A desperation ignited in her and her eyes shone with tears.
"...kill me quickly... bury me soon... let me lie beneath the moon..."
Elanor turned when she heard a sob and she froze. This was not Frodo's sob. She spun back around and continued down the hall. The next door was to her parents' room. Her father had wanted to be close to Frodo to hear him at night. Elanor peered in the warmly lit room and saw her father sitting on the edge of the bed, head bent, sobbing quietly. The candles lit the room with warmth and the shadows did not often linger with Sam. She felt comfortable and wished to sit on her father's knee and ask for a story as she had done so many times. But now Samwise seemed small, broken and frightened and for a moment all the images of Samwise the Brave blurred in Elanor's teary vision. Here sat no hero, no brave knight, or savior, or elf- warrior. Here sat a broken gardener, frightened and lost, weeping for the loss of his master and the burden on his family. Here sat a humble servant watching his master slip away from him, watching the home his beloved master gave him be consumed by the shadow that lay heavily on their hearts. And Elanor felt an anger fire up within her stomach and it burned all the way up her throat and her eyes shone with it. It was not fair. So much had to be lost, so much sacraficed and for what she could not even remember. The wounds were too deep, the pain was too much. They could not relish this new world her father had given her. Not when so much was lost.
She stepped forward and realized had already known she was there. Another cry ripped through the walls. "Why have you forsaken me!?"
Urgency lit in Elanor again. "Father! Father! Do you not hear him crying out?" She became suddenly angry. He had been here the whole time. He had heard it all and felt no need to comfort his master. Why had he done nothing? Why had he done nothing for the pitiful tortured creature that he had once loved with all his heart. "Father!" she cried and then so softly she could barely hear herself. "Will you do nothing?"
Sam looked up and his eyes were red and full of tears. He stared at his most lovely daughter as another shriek tore through the air. Neither daughter nor father moved. They stared at eachother, Elanor with compassionate urgency and Sam with confused anguish. "Father!" then she whispered seeing that he did not move. "Father please... do something... would you have him suffer?"
Anger flared in Sam's eyes. "Would I have him suffer?! I would rather lay down my life than see him this way! It rips through me like knives you silly girl!"
Elanor was shocked and hurt. "Father... can you not hear his cries? He calls for you. He needs you now, more than ever he needs you! Quick before he must endure another moment without you!" With every word she came closer to her father as he sat motionless on the bed. She fell to her knees before him and grasped his hands, kneeding them beseechingly. She gazed up at him wide eyed, pleading. "He calls for you."
"Elanor-lass... It is not me he calls to..."
Another shriek ripped through the air. "My Ring! My precious Ring! Why have you left me!? Why have you forsaken me!? I'd do anything to get you back! See what I have done! All in sacrafice! For you... my precious Ring..."
