With every word, he beams with pride. With every whisper his smile
fails at some loss. With every shout of the late King Theoden, a happiness
beams through his face. Yet beneath his pride, dignity and love, I see the
shredded part of Merry. I see his longful look at open fields. I see his
hurt look at the sky. He is not the same mischief making Merry I attached
myself to. I doubt, that when we get to the Shire, we will hide in the
cupboards of Bag End, just to scare Frodo, or occasionally Sam. I doubt we
will stand atop the table and sing as loud as our voices can carry
themselves. I doubt we will charge away from some stolen food from some
overworked elder. But then we may. I see Merry look at Frodo, I see the
shame across his face.
We kept our promise. We helped Frodo as long as we could. He was the one who left us. But why did he take Sam? We could have all gone and protected him better. I know that Pippin watches me with every glance. I know that he is constantly analyzing me and sees what the other cannot. But why didn't Frodo take us? I can see how torn he is from the ring. How his soul is still jerked from the ghost of that perished item. It was just a band of gold. Why did it hurt him so much? We failed to protect him. I failed to protect Pippin. He is different now. Almost all of the innocence is gone. Yet, I failed Frodo more. He needed us that day, whatever happened there. He has never spoken of it. The missing finger grinds across my conciousness, torturing me to ask. But I will not pain him with something he does not wish to talk of. I see Frodo look at Sam, the knowing written on his face.
I failed them. Failed them all. They trusted me. They hoped for me. But if it was not for Smeagol. They would all be gone. Tortured. Hurt. Slaves. I will never tell another living soul of my dark deeds. I feel guilt. The shadow is gone, but it still covers my eyes in blindness. I am glad Merry and Pippin were not there with me that day. They would never have the same love and innocence if they had been there. But I must tell some one. I will tell Gandalf, the elves, and perhaps the red book will get a new adventure. I am so glad Sam went with me. Without him. I would have died. Without him, Smeagol would have killed me. Without him, I would still be lying on the evil mountain. Without him I would have failed even more than I have failed them. But I will not tell anyone else of the Shire, of what happened. If he chooses to that is his choice, but it was him who saved me.
Mister Frodo thinks he has failed. But how could he have thought that? He never failed. How could he when we've still got all this green? The Shire still is. He won. There is barely any evil left. He got rid of it. We survived! We all did, no matter what valiant deeds we did we survived. Rosie Cotton is still in the Shire, I bet even in that pub as we speak. I'll get enough courage to talk to her. For heaven's sake, I faced a giant spider. But they are all changed. Well, we all are. Merry and Pippin have seen horrible things, I wish they were still their troublemaking selves. But then maybe they are. If they are they've at least got a bit more wisdom, so they won't go knocking humble travelers down on the road and then framing them for stealing. Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!
We kept our promise. We helped Frodo as long as we could. He was the one who left us. But why did he take Sam? We could have all gone and protected him better. I know that Pippin watches me with every glance. I know that he is constantly analyzing me and sees what the other cannot. But why didn't Frodo take us? I can see how torn he is from the ring. How his soul is still jerked from the ghost of that perished item. It was just a band of gold. Why did it hurt him so much? We failed to protect him. I failed to protect Pippin. He is different now. Almost all of the innocence is gone. Yet, I failed Frodo more. He needed us that day, whatever happened there. He has never spoken of it. The missing finger grinds across my conciousness, torturing me to ask. But I will not pain him with something he does not wish to talk of. I see Frodo look at Sam, the knowing written on his face.
I failed them. Failed them all. They trusted me. They hoped for me. But if it was not for Smeagol. They would all be gone. Tortured. Hurt. Slaves. I will never tell another living soul of my dark deeds. I feel guilt. The shadow is gone, but it still covers my eyes in blindness. I am glad Merry and Pippin were not there with me that day. They would never have the same love and innocence if they had been there. But I must tell some one. I will tell Gandalf, the elves, and perhaps the red book will get a new adventure. I am so glad Sam went with me. Without him. I would have died. Without him, Smeagol would have killed me. Without him, I would still be lying on the evil mountain. Without him I would have failed even more than I have failed them. But I will not tell anyone else of the Shire, of what happened. If he chooses to that is his choice, but it was him who saved me.
Mister Frodo thinks he has failed. But how could he have thought that? He never failed. How could he when we've still got all this green? The Shire still is. He won. There is barely any evil left. He got rid of it. We survived! We all did, no matter what valiant deeds we did we survived. Rosie Cotton is still in the Shire, I bet even in that pub as we speak. I'll get enough courage to talk to her. For heaven's sake, I faced a giant spider. But they are all changed. Well, we all are. Merry and Pippin have seen horrible things, I wish they were still their troublemaking selves. But then maybe they are. If they are they've at least got a bit more wisdom, so they won't go knocking humble travelers down on the road and then framing them for stealing. Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!