Peony Brownlock stopped and looked out of the small round window, and
cursed at the rain that was again pouring from the sky in sheets. Moments
later, basket in hand, she was slamming out of the front door and hurriedly
tearing her now soaking laundry from the lines. 'I should have known,' she
thought to herself crossly. It had been raining for a week now, with short
bursts of sunshine that always seemed to be, but never were, the end of the
storm. 'I always trust those little bursts of sunshine.' The late summer
rain made it so easy for her to ignore the scant tears coming down her
cheeks and mingling there. She refused to cry over him anymore. He was
gone, at least to her, and there was nothing to be done.
Of course, the four heroes had been back for some time now, so it was not as if Frodo was really gone anymore. She could go to see him at any time. She would have gone to see him. Except that it had been him to say goodbye. That was what made the situation hurt so much more. Logically, if she could have gone to him at any time, he most certainly could have come to her. The fact that she had not seen him since his cryptic goodbye so long ago made it obvious enough what they had before was over.
A loud squeak heralded someone's entrance through her rusty hinged garden gate. Peony looked over to the gate, and saw through the grey to a moment of clear blue sky. Frodo was there in front of her, looking wet, miserable, and vaguely apologetic. "Good afternoon," he said with the slightest nervous hesitation.
"Afternoon," she replied, and Frodo could hear a myriad of emotion laced through her casual words. She looked at him, her expression blank, her eyes confused, angry, sad. "Ugh, we had best get inside." As she said it he remembered the rain that had been pelting him for the last few minutes, and noticed that her strawberry blonde hair was dark with rain, plastered in mussed curls to her head. "Did you walk all the way here? You must be more soaked than I am, if that is even possible, come let's get in," she said in one long string. Both of them hurried to the door, instinct prevailing over common sense as they threw their arms over their already soaked heads to block the rain.
After dry towels and clothing had been found, and the fireplace had been restarted, the pair sat near, fidgeting, and trying to sneak a glance without the other noticing. Finally, Peony sighed, and broke the heavy silence. "So, why in the world did you pick such a horrid day to finally come back for a visit?" she asked, trying to lie with her voice and say that everything was okay. She had never been good at lies.
"I... I have not gone out much at all recently. I apologize for not coming sooner. If I had realized sooner I might have..." He paused suddenly, looked over to catch her eyes, then turned his head back down. Why was this so hard?
"If you had realized what?" she asked, her hollow voice reflecting no curiosity. "That you would only have to leave again?"
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "How did you –" She smiled sadly at him and lightly shook her head. Frodo sighed. "And here I debated all this time, how I was going to say goodbye."
"I would ask why," she said, "but I imagine I would not understand your reason." Her voice shook with this statement. They had always been able to understand each other, better than anyone else the other had met. This distance burned. He felt it too, if she could still interpret the look in his eyes. They understood the gap, but had no means of crossing to the other side of it.
"The whole world feels this way," he commented, looking out the window into the world blurring rain. With nothing to focus on, his eyes seemed to search through infinity, blind to the world. He all but whispered, "The distance is unbearable."
Peony had no idea what to say to this. The look on his face, the tone of his voice, she did not know what to make of any of it, so she acted as if nothing had changed, and did what she would have done before. She rested her head lightly on his shoulder, and willed any good in herself into his well being. For her, it did not even take much thought. "So... leaving will help you?" she asked.
"I do not think anything else will," he answered, voice edged with sorrow. She did not know if it was habit or thought that had his fingers twirling the long ends of her hair. Neither of the hobbits spoke for quite some time, both pondering the changes in their lives, in themselves, and in each other.
"I didn't think this would end... well. I did not think anyone would understand."
Peony turned to him, and they locked eyes. "Sometimes you're an absolute enigma to me, but sometimes, even when you seem so far away, I think I know you better than I know myself. I knew we would be here, and I knew you would go again. I suppose I will not see you again before you leave?" The question was pointless, as they both knew the answer.
Frodo looked out the window again, and sighed. "If I don't leave now I will not make it home until far too late. Good bye."
"Wait, it's still raining. At least stay until it stops." Her deep brown eyes pleaded with him, as she held out her hand. "Please, after all the rain you owe me one more sunny sky."
Frodo seemed ready to argue, but eventually smiled and took her hand. "Yes, I suppose I do."
Of course, the four heroes had been back for some time now, so it was not as if Frodo was really gone anymore. She could go to see him at any time. She would have gone to see him. Except that it had been him to say goodbye. That was what made the situation hurt so much more. Logically, if she could have gone to him at any time, he most certainly could have come to her. The fact that she had not seen him since his cryptic goodbye so long ago made it obvious enough what they had before was over.
A loud squeak heralded someone's entrance through her rusty hinged garden gate. Peony looked over to the gate, and saw through the grey to a moment of clear blue sky. Frodo was there in front of her, looking wet, miserable, and vaguely apologetic. "Good afternoon," he said with the slightest nervous hesitation.
"Afternoon," she replied, and Frodo could hear a myriad of emotion laced through her casual words. She looked at him, her expression blank, her eyes confused, angry, sad. "Ugh, we had best get inside." As she said it he remembered the rain that had been pelting him for the last few minutes, and noticed that her strawberry blonde hair was dark with rain, plastered in mussed curls to her head. "Did you walk all the way here? You must be more soaked than I am, if that is even possible, come let's get in," she said in one long string. Both of them hurried to the door, instinct prevailing over common sense as they threw their arms over their already soaked heads to block the rain.
After dry towels and clothing had been found, and the fireplace had been restarted, the pair sat near, fidgeting, and trying to sneak a glance without the other noticing. Finally, Peony sighed, and broke the heavy silence. "So, why in the world did you pick such a horrid day to finally come back for a visit?" she asked, trying to lie with her voice and say that everything was okay. She had never been good at lies.
"I... I have not gone out much at all recently. I apologize for not coming sooner. If I had realized sooner I might have..." He paused suddenly, looked over to catch her eyes, then turned his head back down. Why was this so hard?
"If you had realized what?" she asked, her hollow voice reflecting no curiosity. "That you would only have to leave again?"
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "How did you –" She smiled sadly at him and lightly shook her head. Frodo sighed. "And here I debated all this time, how I was going to say goodbye."
"I would ask why," she said, "but I imagine I would not understand your reason." Her voice shook with this statement. They had always been able to understand each other, better than anyone else the other had met. This distance burned. He felt it too, if she could still interpret the look in his eyes. They understood the gap, but had no means of crossing to the other side of it.
"The whole world feels this way," he commented, looking out the window into the world blurring rain. With nothing to focus on, his eyes seemed to search through infinity, blind to the world. He all but whispered, "The distance is unbearable."
Peony had no idea what to say to this. The look on his face, the tone of his voice, she did not know what to make of any of it, so she acted as if nothing had changed, and did what she would have done before. She rested her head lightly on his shoulder, and willed any good in herself into his well being. For her, it did not even take much thought. "So... leaving will help you?" she asked.
"I do not think anything else will," he answered, voice edged with sorrow. She did not know if it was habit or thought that had his fingers twirling the long ends of her hair. Neither of the hobbits spoke for quite some time, both pondering the changes in their lives, in themselves, and in each other.
"I didn't think this would end... well. I did not think anyone would understand."
Peony turned to him, and they locked eyes. "Sometimes you're an absolute enigma to me, but sometimes, even when you seem so far away, I think I know you better than I know myself. I knew we would be here, and I knew you would go again. I suppose I will not see you again before you leave?" The question was pointless, as they both knew the answer.
Frodo looked out the window again, and sighed. "If I don't leave now I will not make it home until far too late. Good bye."
"Wait, it's still raining. At least stay until it stops." Her deep brown eyes pleaded with him, as she held out her hand. "Please, after all the rain you owe me one more sunny sky."
Frodo seemed ready to argue, but eventually smiled and took her hand. "Yes, I suppose I do."
