A/N: I am soooo very sorry everybody! This is terrible I'm never this slow
with updates. My own novel is getting way out of hand where accuracy is
becoming crucial. Ya know there are certain words I won't let myself use
because I gotta consider when they were invented cause I can't use modern
words! Yeah I'm a slave driver! Trust me you don't want me for a boss I'll
wring your ass out for every detail. But as the Great Tolkien once said "oh
what a tangled web they weave who try a new world to conceive!" This is
true.
Hmm maybe I didn't elaborate. I'm the reincarnation of Tolkien lol. I do hope you may all eventually forgive me for this delay I cannot blame my novel entirely for this. We are entering what is called in the theatre "Hell Week" in the school play which means I am at school from 8 in the morning until 11 at night if I'm lucky and Saturdays we build sets from noon until 5 so I'm a little tied up..
Chapter 4: In Darkness Buried Deep
Sam's eyes fluttered open and they were awfully swollen from crying. He rubbed them and found that they were sore to the touch. He looked around the tent for a moment trying to get his bearings. Everything was cast in shadow and he shivered, gripping the covers, as thoughts of that terrible place filled his mind. He squeaked with terror and trembled beneath the covers. Candles danced near him and the thought of fire and ash filled his mind until a sound came to his ears.
"...Gamgee... Master Gamgee...wake up... your safe now..."
He muffled another pathetic squeak and looked up. There stood the same young healer from before, white robes dancing around him in the fire light. His young face appeared concerned as it looked down on the hobbit. Sam looked around again and saw that the bed was empty. Suddenly memories of what had come to pass hit him and he sobbed.
"Where's Mr. Frodo?" he whispered but did not look back up at Envin.
"Why he's over there, sir, in the chair. I was giving him some treatment and I did not want to wake you, my lord."
Sam shifted uneasily at the words 'sir' and 'my lord'. His eyes cast upon the forlorn figure in the corner. "Treatment?" said Sam shakily.
"Yes, sir."
"So there's hope?"
"Well, sir, some think there is and some think there isn't."
"Do you think there is?" Sam turned to Envin sharply and the young healer squirmed under that keen gaze. Envin blushed from ear to ear and looked at the ground still feeling pierced by the Pheriannath.
"Why yes sir, I do. Not many do, I must be truthful, but I do, and Mithrandir and Lord Aragorn-"
"*Lord*? Aragorn!"
"Yes sir."
"Are they all here then?" said Sam more to himself.
"Sir?"
"Oh never mind." Sam resolved to ask Pippin and Merry and get a straighter answer not riddled with 'sirs' and 'my lords'.
Sam shifted and threw down the covers. He set his feet on the ground gently. For the first time, in waking, he realized how weary he was. Envin thought of protesting but he knew how stubborn this halfling was.
Sam approached the chair silently and gazed up at his master, unchanged as before. Those sombre eyes saw threw him, did not even fight to recognized him any longer. Sam put a trembling hand to his mouth and blinked back tears. He found Envin at his side gazing reverently at his master.
"What can I do?" said Sam and Envin noticed a stern, determined note in his voice.
"Nothing comes to mind, sir. I'm using rather different treatment. I don't have herbs or strong concoctions of any sort. They are doing him no good. Those sort of things are used to heal the body. We have very few things that can heal the mind."
Sam nodded and brushed his fingers along his master's cheek. "Maybe-" Envin began and Sam turned to him swiftly.
"Yes!"
Envin blushed at how quickly this lord among halflings was willing to heed his advice. Not many of the other healers took him seriously, being so young. "Well sir, I've been moving this candle across his range of sight, hoping he would react to the movement of the light. I've also been calling his name to see if he would react but so far, nothing. Maybe if he hears you calling to him, he may answer."
Visions of the dark gloom of Cirith Ungol flashed by Sam's eyes and for a moment he was deaf and blind to everything around him. His face contorted with pain and his eyes widened. His hand flew to his heart to slow the quick beating and his body swayed. Images of slain orcs lying at his feet and himself sitting upon a stone singing solemnly because he had given up hope. He felt himself being lifted and Cirith Ungol disappeared. He looked up and found he was in Envin's arms.
The healer was shaking with amazement as he lifted the Ring-bearer to his feet. Sam steadied himself and thanked Envin. He was then showered with a thousand 'much obliged' and 'no thanks needed sir'.
"Might I-" Sam looked up at Envin sadly. "Might I sing to him."
Envin nodded and picked up his candled from the table. He waved it slowly from side to side and Sam began to sing.
In western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars forever dwell;
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.
Envin set down the candled and ran the back of his hand along his eyes. "Master Gamgee I have heard so many songs in my life and they were sung by many a minstrel. But, sir if I may make so bold as to say that that was wondrous."
Sam blushed. He lifted his hand and brushed away one of Frodo's curls. "And here at journey's end I lie, in darkness buried deep." He whispered and Envin's heart broke.
They went through the procedure a hundred times until Sam felt weary and his voice cracked. Envin helped him back to the bed and left for a brief time. Sam was alone except for Frodo, silent in his chair, staring dreamily into nothing. Sam sighed loudly and tears trickled down his cheeks unchecked. Nothing they did helped, not even Sam's singing brought Frodo back from the darkness now. He wondered if it was any use clinging to hope. Part of the old Sam Gamgee insisted that if they clung to hope long enough his master would return but another part of him, born from struggle, illness, and burden fell into submission.
Envin returned with a tray full of an array of light foods and Sam was forced to look up from the bed sheet he was wringing and torturing between his hands. Envin set the sweet breads and tasty fruits in front of Sam and his eyes lit up though he tried to conceal it. Little did Envin know that such a small meal was a feast to this starved hobbit and Sam hesitated and looked up at Envin. He wanted to snatch the bread like some starved dog and shove it into his mouth without chewing but he tried to conceal his hunger. "Thank you, Envin," Sam mumbled, taking a loaf in his shaking hand.
Envin bowed and returned to Frodo. Sam watched them out of the corner of his eye, his hands moving from the tray to his mouth unchecked. He chewed thoughtfully and forced himself to swallow over a lump in his throat. Envin was facing Frodo but Sam could see by the way the young healer hunched his back and bent over Frodo that he was not budging. He was an immovable force and would refuse to give up any hope at all. Sam's eyes twinkled in thanks and admiration of this young healer. If anyone could bring his master back it would be this young man.
~~~
Pippin and Merry peered in around noon and sat with Sam telling him of all their adventures with the Ents and their places as knights of Rohan and Gondor. They told him of Aragorn and that he would be crowned shortly and of Gimli's and Legolas' friendship. Merry explained to Sam about Pippin's march into battle and the cave troll. Pippin told Sam about Merry and Eowyn as they fought the Witchking. Once they had finished Sam shook his head in disbelief. "I do not believe a word of it," he laughed. "I'm seein' things I am. You're so tall and clad in all that fancy armor, nope my mind's made up, your are impostors and you're lyin' to me about the whole lot."
Merry laughed, "Coming from a fellow conspirator, aye?"
Sam's laughter died and he looked at Frodo and Envin sadly. "It was so long ago."
Pippin leaned over and put his good arm around Sam's shoulders. "I know."
"You've all changed so much." Sam bowed his head, "All of you. I feel so alone."
"Now, Sam," whispered Merry. "You've changed too. Why you're not half the shy, timid hobbit you used to be. You're a hero now, Sam Gamgee, and get used to being treated like one."
Sam turned away, "I'm no hero. I couldn't even protect my master."
"Now Sam, you can't possibly blame yourself for this. We won't let you."
Sam was silent. Pippin opened his mouth to say something but Gandalf came in at that moment. "Well, Sam, how are you faring?"
Sam looked up and ran his hand along his eyes. "Alright, Mr. Gandalf."
"I hope you are up to getting out and about today."
"I suppose," said Sam curiously.
Gandalf nodded his approval and motioned towards the tent flap. A man clad in Gondorian armor entered and bowed to Sam presenting a neat pile of clothes. "Gifts from the children of Gondor," laughed Gandalf.
The man's eyes shone as he looked upon the Ring-bearer. "After all," Gandalf continued, "You cannot come to a ceremony in naught but your bed dressing."
Sam smiled and thanked the man as he took the articles of clothing. Gandalf straightened and went on, "Your other clothes will find a place of honor, no doubt, even the orc rags. Pippin and Merry will help you get ready."
Sam nodded, "What about Mr. Frodo."
Gandalf glanced in the corner and then back at Sam, "He will not attend. These people hold him as a hero just like you, Samwise, and he is not ready to be put in the public's eye just yet."
Sam nodded tearfully and Gandalf left. Merry and Pippin went about helping Sam in silence and Envin stayed by Frodo's side when he had finished his procedure. He waited in silence until Sam had finished and Merry and Pippin had left. He came to the bed and remade the linens quietly. He returned, carrying Frodo's limp body, and layed him down gently. Sam watched in tormented silence as Envin stripped his master and went about his ministrations to heal the terrible wounds on his back where the whips had lashed him. Envin then turned him around and tended to his chest which had been clawed at mercilessly when Frodo lost control under the eye. Sam watched as Envin's nimble hands massaged Frodo's stiff, cold shoulder, scarred from the Morgul blade. He rubbed a slick oil on the hobbit's chest to sooth his breathing and calm him. The scent was fresh and clean and Sam remembered the sweet smell of athelas.
After that had been done Frodo was reclad in the long white shirt and his hand was unwrapped. Sam gasped at his missing finger and tried to hold in his tears as images of his master being thrown against the stone walls of the belly of Orodruin and his moment of madness. Envin heard the choked sob come from the other hobbit but pretended not to. Next was Frodo's head as Envin propped him into a sitting position and unwrapped the bandages. Envin was thankful that Sam did not follow him as he went around to the other side of the bed to tend the cut in the back of his head.
Much of the hair at the base of Frodo's neck had fallen out because of the blow and it had left an open wound that went almost to the skull. It had definitely jolted his brain in a harmful way, Envin nodded to himself in agreement and Sam watched wide eyed. Before he could come to the conclusion on whether he truly wanted to see Envin had tended and rewrapped it and Sam let out a long sigh he wasn't even aware he was holding in. Frodo stayed unresponsive to all of his, his clouded eyes and pale face blank of all intelligence.
Sam's knees trembled. This was the wisest hobbit he had ever met. This was the one he had looked up to all his life, who read to him when he was young, and helped teach him how to read and write. The hobbit that calmly held his fists when Sandyman made some cruel remark and coolly told Sam some words of wisdom. This was the hobbit that led him threw the back roads behind the shire and into the woods on cool autumn nights to tell him stories about elves and kings of old. This was the hobbit that had a library stacked with books and translations, who spoke the tongue of the elves and walked with dwarves along the outskirts of the shire. The hobbit that studied thousands of maps and settled petty disputes all around hobbiton that concerned the ownership of a pig or the plowing of land. A hobbit known for his wisdom that stretched far beyond his years.
Before Sam knew it, he was on his knees, weeping, and Envin had helped him on the bed silently. He turned and saw Frodo beside him. Sam grit his teeth and pounded his fists together. This was no longer the hobbit he knew!
Pippin and Merry entered the tent and helped Sam compose himself for the ceremony.
A/N: Next chapter coming soon I promise this time! I owe you guys for that long delay. Don't expect much in the next chapter it may go a little off track but there are events that I must include and characters that cannot be just forgotten. Namarie!
Hmm maybe I didn't elaborate. I'm the reincarnation of Tolkien lol. I do hope you may all eventually forgive me for this delay I cannot blame my novel entirely for this. We are entering what is called in the theatre "Hell Week" in the school play which means I am at school from 8 in the morning until 11 at night if I'm lucky and Saturdays we build sets from noon until 5 so I'm a little tied up..
Chapter 4: In Darkness Buried Deep
Sam's eyes fluttered open and they were awfully swollen from crying. He rubbed them and found that they were sore to the touch. He looked around the tent for a moment trying to get his bearings. Everything was cast in shadow and he shivered, gripping the covers, as thoughts of that terrible place filled his mind. He squeaked with terror and trembled beneath the covers. Candles danced near him and the thought of fire and ash filled his mind until a sound came to his ears.
"...Gamgee... Master Gamgee...wake up... your safe now..."
He muffled another pathetic squeak and looked up. There stood the same young healer from before, white robes dancing around him in the fire light. His young face appeared concerned as it looked down on the hobbit. Sam looked around again and saw that the bed was empty. Suddenly memories of what had come to pass hit him and he sobbed.
"Where's Mr. Frodo?" he whispered but did not look back up at Envin.
"Why he's over there, sir, in the chair. I was giving him some treatment and I did not want to wake you, my lord."
Sam shifted uneasily at the words 'sir' and 'my lord'. His eyes cast upon the forlorn figure in the corner. "Treatment?" said Sam shakily.
"Yes, sir."
"So there's hope?"
"Well, sir, some think there is and some think there isn't."
"Do you think there is?" Sam turned to Envin sharply and the young healer squirmed under that keen gaze. Envin blushed from ear to ear and looked at the ground still feeling pierced by the Pheriannath.
"Why yes sir, I do. Not many do, I must be truthful, but I do, and Mithrandir and Lord Aragorn-"
"*Lord*? Aragorn!"
"Yes sir."
"Are they all here then?" said Sam more to himself.
"Sir?"
"Oh never mind." Sam resolved to ask Pippin and Merry and get a straighter answer not riddled with 'sirs' and 'my lords'.
Sam shifted and threw down the covers. He set his feet on the ground gently. For the first time, in waking, he realized how weary he was. Envin thought of protesting but he knew how stubborn this halfling was.
Sam approached the chair silently and gazed up at his master, unchanged as before. Those sombre eyes saw threw him, did not even fight to recognized him any longer. Sam put a trembling hand to his mouth and blinked back tears. He found Envin at his side gazing reverently at his master.
"What can I do?" said Sam and Envin noticed a stern, determined note in his voice.
"Nothing comes to mind, sir. I'm using rather different treatment. I don't have herbs or strong concoctions of any sort. They are doing him no good. Those sort of things are used to heal the body. We have very few things that can heal the mind."
Sam nodded and brushed his fingers along his master's cheek. "Maybe-" Envin began and Sam turned to him swiftly.
"Yes!"
Envin blushed at how quickly this lord among halflings was willing to heed his advice. Not many of the other healers took him seriously, being so young. "Well sir, I've been moving this candle across his range of sight, hoping he would react to the movement of the light. I've also been calling his name to see if he would react but so far, nothing. Maybe if he hears you calling to him, he may answer."
Visions of the dark gloom of Cirith Ungol flashed by Sam's eyes and for a moment he was deaf and blind to everything around him. His face contorted with pain and his eyes widened. His hand flew to his heart to slow the quick beating and his body swayed. Images of slain orcs lying at his feet and himself sitting upon a stone singing solemnly because he had given up hope. He felt himself being lifted and Cirith Ungol disappeared. He looked up and found he was in Envin's arms.
The healer was shaking with amazement as he lifted the Ring-bearer to his feet. Sam steadied himself and thanked Envin. He was then showered with a thousand 'much obliged' and 'no thanks needed sir'.
"Might I-" Sam looked up at Envin sadly. "Might I sing to him."
Envin nodded and picked up his candled from the table. He waved it slowly from side to side and Sam began to sing.
In western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars forever dwell;
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.
Envin set down the candled and ran the back of his hand along his eyes. "Master Gamgee I have heard so many songs in my life and they were sung by many a minstrel. But, sir if I may make so bold as to say that that was wondrous."
Sam blushed. He lifted his hand and brushed away one of Frodo's curls. "And here at journey's end I lie, in darkness buried deep." He whispered and Envin's heart broke.
They went through the procedure a hundred times until Sam felt weary and his voice cracked. Envin helped him back to the bed and left for a brief time. Sam was alone except for Frodo, silent in his chair, staring dreamily into nothing. Sam sighed loudly and tears trickled down his cheeks unchecked. Nothing they did helped, not even Sam's singing brought Frodo back from the darkness now. He wondered if it was any use clinging to hope. Part of the old Sam Gamgee insisted that if they clung to hope long enough his master would return but another part of him, born from struggle, illness, and burden fell into submission.
Envin returned with a tray full of an array of light foods and Sam was forced to look up from the bed sheet he was wringing and torturing between his hands. Envin set the sweet breads and tasty fruits in front of Sam and his eyes lit up though he tried to conceal it. Little did Envin know that such a small meal was a feast to this starved hobbit and Sam hesitated and looked up at Envin. He wanted to snatch the bread like some starved dog and shove it into his mouth without chewing but he tried to conceal his hunger. "Thank you, Envin," Sam mumbled, taking a loaf in his shaking hand.
Envin bowed and returned to Frodo. Sam watched them out of the corner of his eye, his hands moving from the tray to his mouth unchecked. He chewed thoughtfully and forced himself to swallow over a lump in his throat. Envin was facing Frodo but Sam could see by the way the young healer hunched his back and bent over Frodo that he was not budging. He was an immovable force and would refuse to give up any hope at all. Sam's eyes twinkled in thanks and admiration of this young healer. If anyone could bring his master back it would be this young man.
~~~
Pippin and Merry peered in around noon and sat with Sam telling him of all their adventures with the Ents and their places as knights of Rohan and Gondor. They told him of Aragorn and that he would be crowned shortly and of Gimli's and Legolas' friendship. Merry explained to Sam about Pippin's march into battle and the cave troll. Pippin told Sam about Merry and Eowyn as they fought the Witchking. Once they had finished Sam shook his head in disbelief. "I do not believe a word of it," he laughed. "I'm seein' things I am. You're so tall and clad in all that fancy armor, nope my mind's made up, your are impostors and you're lyin' to me about the whole lot."
Merry laughed, "Coming from a fellow conspirator, aye?"
Sam's laughter died and he looked at Frodo and Envin sadly. "It was so long ago."
Pippin leaned over and put his good arm around Sam's shoulders. "I know."
"You've all changed so much." Sam bowed his head, "All of you. I feel so alone."
"Now, Sam," whispered Merry. "You've changed too. Why you're not half the shy, timid hobbit you used to be. You're a hero now, Sam Gamgee, and get used to being treated like one."
Sam turned away, "I'm no hero. I couldn't even protect my master."
"Now Sam, you can't possibly blame yourself for this. We won't let you."
Sam was silent. Pippin opened his mouth to say something but Gandalf came in at that moment. "Well, Sam, how are you faring?"
Sam looked up and ran his hand along his eyes. "Alright, Mr. Gandalf."
"I hope you are up to getting out and about today."
"I suppose," said Sam curiously.
Gandalf nodded his approval and motioned towards the tent flap. A man clad in Gondorian armor entered and bowed to Sam presenting a neat pile of clothes. "Gifts from the children of Gondor," laughed Gandalf.
The man's eyes shone as he looked upon the Ring-bearer. "After all," Gandalf continued, "You cannot come to a ceremony in naught but your bed dressing."
Sam smiled and thanked the man as he took the articles of clothing. Gandalf straightened and went on, "Your other clothes will find a place of honor, no doubt, even the orc rags. Pippin and Merry will help you get ready."
Sam nodded, "What about Mr. Frodo."
Gandalf glanced in the corner and then back at Sam, "He will not attend. These people hold him as a hero just like you, Samwise, and he is not ready to be put in the public's eye just yet."
Sam nodded tearfully and Gandalf left. Merry and Pippin went about helping Sam in silence and Envin stayed by Frodo's side when he had finished his procedure. He waited in silence until Sam had finished and Merry and Pippin had left. He came to the bed and remade the linens quietly. He returned, carrying Frodo's limp body, and layed him down gently. Sam watched in tormented silence as Envin stripped his master and went about his ministrations to heal the terrible wounds on his back where the whips had lashed him. Envin then turned him around and tended to his chest which had been clawed at mercilessly when Frodo lost control under the eye. Sam watched as Envin's nimble hands massaged Frodo's stiff, cold shoulder, scarred from the Morgul blade. He rubbed a slick oil on the hobbit's chest to sooth his breathing and calm him. The scent was fresh and clean and Sam remembered the sweet smell of athelas.
After that had been done Frodo was reclad in the long white shirt and his hand was unwrapped. Sam gasped at his missing finger and tried to hold in his tears as images of his master being thrown against the stone walls of the belly of Orodruin and his moment of madness. Envin heard the choked sob come from the other hobbit but pretended not to. Next was Frodo's head as Envin propped him into a sitting position and unwrapped the bandages. Envin was thankful that Sam did not follow him as he went around to the other side of the bed to tend the cut in the back of his head.
Much of the hair at the base of Frodo's neck had fallen out because of the blow and it had left an open wound that went almost to the skull. It had definitely jolted his brain in a harmful way, Envin nodded to himself in agreement and Sam watched wide eyed. Before he could come to the conclusion on whether he truly wanted to see Envin had tended and rewrapped it and Sam let out a long sigh he wasn't even aware he was holding in. Frodo stayed unresponsive to all of his, his clouded eyes and pale face blank of all intelligence.
Sam's knees trembled. This was the wisest hobbit he had ever met. This was the one he had looked up to all his life, who read to him when he was young, and helped teach him how to read and write. The hobbit that calmly held his fists when Sandyman made some cruel remark and coolly told Sam some words of wisdom. This was the hobbit that led him threw the back roads behind the shire and into the woods on cool autumn nights to tell him stories about elves and kings of old. This was the hobbit that had a library stacked with books and translations, who spoke the tongue of the elves and walked with dwarves along the outskirts of the shire. The hobbit that studied thousands of maps and settled petty disputes all around hobbiton that concerned the ownership of a pig or the plowing of land. A hobbit known for his wisdom that stretched far beyond his years.
Before Sam knew it, he was on his knees, weeping, and Envin had helped him on the bed silently. He turned and saw Frodo beside him. Sam grit his teeth and pounded his fists together. This was no longer the hobbit he knew!
Pippin and Merry entered the tent and helped Sam compose himself for the ceremony.
A/N: Next chapter coming soon I promise this time! I owe you guys for that long delay. Don't expect much in the next chapter it may go a little off track but there are events that I must include and characters that cannot be just forgotten. Namarie!