Traveler10

Journey

by Gillian

1421 S.R

September 29th - noon

"You know, Frodo my lad, your Sam practically dragged me back to the Shire."

"Did he, Uncle?"

"Hmm. But you know what? I'm delighted he did. I wouldn't have missed these days with your new little family for all the world."

"I'm glad, Bilbo. So glad."

888

Sam sat cross legged on the soft grass, holding Fael's little hands as he bobbed up and down. Usually all his attention would be fixed on his son when they were playing, but today his mind was elsewhere.

Fael tugged hard and his hands came free; he sat down with a bump on his well padded bottom, looking briefly surprised.

"Oh dear." Sam reached out to help him back up but Fael was already leaning forward and on his knees, crawling to his father he gripped his trousers and pulled himself back to his feet.

"Clever lad," Sam praised. Then he was holding his breath as with a fierce frown of concentration Fael let go his grip and stood standing squarely on his downy little feet. At the last moment Sam scooped him up into his arms and Fael wriggled and squeaked in protest.

"Da da da!" he objected strenuously, but Sam only held him close and kissed his silky curls.

"Not yet, my lad," he whispered. "You save your first steps for when your Frodo-dad is here to see them." He looked out down the long road that lead to the sea. "Happen he'll need some cheering up by then."

888

Nine days earlier.

"There's no need for you to come, Sam," Frodo said practically, running an eye over his packed gear. "It's a long trip for Fael."

"Fael's made longer," Sam said stoutly. "We want to be there for you."

Frodo looked up and smiled at him. "I know you do," he said gently. "But I'm all right, love, I really am. I know it's time for Bilbo to go."

"But it's not just Bilbo is it? It's Gandalf too. It's..." Sam broke off, not even sure what he wanted to say. This date had been looming for ages now, and every day Sam had seen Frodo's mood grower darker, watched his thoughts turn inwards. Something was coming to an end and Sam was all too aware that if things had been just a little bit different he'd have been saying goodbye to the other half of his heart at the end of this journey.

He wondered if Frodo thought much about that as well.

But Frodo was just shaking his head, already pulling away from the conversation. "At least this time I get to say good bye," he said quietly. "I might just nip down and make sure the ponies will be ready for the morning. I won't be long."

And then he was gone, striding out of the house and down the front path, taking the stone steps two at a time.

888

September 29th - noon

"I miss you both already."

"I won't tell you not to cry, my friends. Not all tears are an evil. But I will tell you not to waste time looking back. Not when you have so much to look forward to."

"Gandalf."

"Be happy, Frodo."

"Bilbo..."

888

Sam sighed and leaned back against his pack, looking around the sunny clearing. It was odd how a little baby always seemed to take up more packing space than an adult. Warm clothes, because the night were turning a bit cool. Extra napkins, bibs, toys. A fine waistcoat and his best jacket to wear on the day...

And yet when it had come down to it Sam had been unable to do it. He'd been unable to take Fael to that grey, lonely place.

888

September 29th - dawn

"You've come all this way and you'll go no further?" Frodo said in astonishment. "It's only a few hours away!"

"I know," Sam said with a shiver, pulling his coat up around his neck as the mist tendriled breeze whirled around his ankles. "And I meant to come all the way with you, love, I really did." He glanced over at Fael, still snugly asleep in his little wooden cradle. "But in the end I can't take Fael to that sad grey place."

"You keep calling it that," Frodo said tersely, buttoning up his own coat with jerking movements. "But it's just a place, Sam, like any other. It's the occasion that's sad, not the place."

Sam bit his lip. He never had told Frodo about his dreams of the Havens. Never had told him his fears about this journey either come to that. But that was all nonsense, wasn't it? The Frodo who would have made that last long journey had been ill and heart sore, the Frodo standing before him now swirling his cloak around his shoulders was as well as any hobbit could be. The sunshine was in his eyes...

Except lately the sun had been behind dark clouds of memory. And despite himself Sam was worried.

"Frodo?" Gandalf called from the front of the cart and Frodo waved a hand at him.

"A moment, Gandalf." He turned to Sam and faced him, traces of a frown on his brow. "Did you say your good byes then?"

Sam nodded, his heart in his throat. If only he was better with words! If only he could make Frodo understand what he was feeling. But it seemed he'd gotten too used to the wordless communication they had developed between them over the last year and a half. Surely not so long ago Frodo would have looked and understood how Sam was feeling?

"And they kissed Fael goodbye last night," Sam said softly. Frodo only nodded and turned to his pony but at the last minute Sam couldn't let him go like that. He rushed forward, stepping around Frodo and standing squarely before him.

"We'll be waiting right here for you," he said steadfastly.

Was it his imagination? Did Frodo hesitate before he nodded? Were his eyes already distant as he cast one glance at his baby still sweetly asleep in his crib?

Sam couldn't tell.

888

September 29th - afternoon

Yes, once they would have communicated without words. But poor Frodo had enough on his mind without worrying about his lover's foolish fears.

And so Sam was left here, only able to imagine the last few miles of that journey, the wide dark blue waters of the harbour, the sleek elven ships. Closing his eyes he could see the birds wheeling in the sky above him, hear their mournful cries upon the wind. The clear memories of the dream came back to him then, the profound longing for peace, the dreamy need for sleep. The inevitable journey and the warm rest waiting at the end of it.

Fael was patting his face and cooing at him, and Sam opened his eyes and focused blearily on the baby still held tight in his arms. Fael's little round face was screwing up, his mouth turned down.

"Da da," he said mournfully and Sam sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

"Don't you worry, my hinny," he said firmly, bussing a kiss on an apple cheek. "Your da's got himself all in a dither over nothin'! Silly beggar that I am sittin' here worryin' about old dreams, when our Frodo will be ridin' back here soon enough, and us with only a cold camp waitin'!

He jumped to his feet and tossed Fael in the way he liked and the baby squealed happily and gripped his fathers caramel curls with chubby little fingers.

"You help your da collect some more firewood and when our heart sore family come ridin' back in at least they'll have some warm broth in their bellies, hmm?"

Understanding only that his beloved da was asking him a question Fael nodded firmly, and as was his habit these days just as firmly said: "No!"

Chuckling Sam kissed his cheek again and lingered for a moment, their cheeks close together, breathing in his baby's scent. "Ah, Fael," he murmured. "You're as silly as your old da, and that's sayin' somethin'!"

888

Night had fallen and the stars were already twinkling before Sam heard the distant sound of harness and the clopping of a ponies firm tread. He stood up by the fire and squinted into the moonlit road, heart pounding heard despite his best resolve. Two ponies, each with a rider, and there Gandalf's old cart, and then Sam could sigh out the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, because Frodo rode up on the cart, clicking to the horse as he wheeled it to a stop.

Fael was safe in his crib and Sam rushed forward to help unharness the horse as Frodo jumped down from the cart and stood for a weary moment, leaning against its side.

"All right?" Sam asked anxiously, but Frodo only nodded and began to help with the buckles.

"We lingered long to watch the ship," Merry said lowly from the other side of the horse as his nimble fingers pulled the traces free and scratched automatically at the big horses neck. It whinnied gratefully.

Merry nodded over to where Pip was leaning against his pony, head bowed in sorrow, arms still gripping the saddle.

"It was hard in the end," he said, his voice hoarse, and in the flickering firelight Sam could see his swollen eyes and the tracks of tears on his cheeks.

"You three sit down," he ordered firmly, leading the horse away to the small stream and loosely hobbling it there. "There's soup in the pot and bowls with warm crusty bread laid out."

Merry just stood helplessly as Frodo paced to the fire and sat down, staring into the flames.

"I'm not even hungry," he said blankly, and then shivered. "I'm tired though."

Sam cast an anxious look at Frodo but spared a kind hand for Merry's shoulder. "Your beds are all laid out too," he said quietly, leading the unresisting hobbit nearer the warmth. "Lay down and rest your eyes for a while, maybe you'll be hungry later on."

Merry gazed blankly at Sam's face for a moment and then seemed to shake himself. "Dear Sam," he said thickly. "What would we do without you?"

He took charge of Pippin then, leading him unresisting to their bedrolls and laying him down on one, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Then while Sam watched he dragged his own bed closer and tucked himself by Pip's side, wrapping one arm around him and bringing fair tousled curls to rest under his chin. Pip's hands came up and clutched Merry, and he started to cry into his older cousin's neck. Sam tried not to stare as Merry's comforting hug turned to an embrace and he began to gently kiss Pippin's tears away. Understanding something new about his friends relationship, Sam turned away and swiftly dealt with their ponies.

"Frodo?" he murmured, coming to sit down by his love. "Could you eat?"

Frodo shook his head. "Not yet," he managed, his voice hoarse.

Sam took him by the shoulders as Merry had with Pip and led him over to their bed. "Then lay down, love," he advised, his heart aching. Obediently, almost blindly Frodo curled up on his side.

"And look, here's your baby," Sam said, lifting a sleeping Fael from his cradle and tucking him into the curve of Frodo's chest. "He's all warm and sleepy and waitin' for you."

Frodo's hand crept out and curled over Fael, stroking over the soft little shawl he was wrapped in and resting on his pointed little chin.

"That's right, love," Sam said sadly. "You hold our lad close tonight. You remind yourself why you're here with us and not sailing away over the sea with them."

Frodo tucked Fael closer against him, then frowned and blinked. "Sam?"

"Shh," Sam murmured, laying himself down and wrapping strong arms around them both. "You just sleep, love. I promise you'll feel better come mornin'."

888

September 30th - dawn

When Sam awoke it was to the sounds of birdsong and a perfect September day. The sun was already burning off the mist of the night and he could tell it was going to be a warm one. In a brief moment of panic he remembered Fael but a quick glance showed him the baby sitting on his blanket, briskly shaking his little wooden ring, chuckling as the carved circles of wood within shook and settled back into place.

"Hungry?" Frodo was sitting by the fire, stirring the embers with a stick, coaxing the flames back to life. Merry and Pip still dozed in their bed, heads close together.

With a yawn and a stretch Sam sat up, knuckling sleep gritty eyes. "I could eat," he admitted, clearing his morning rough throat. He focused on Frodo's back, wishing he would turn so he could see his face. "What about you? Did you get any sleep?"

"Some." Frodo ladled some of the soup from the night before into a bowl and picked up a crusty bread roll. He carried it over and held it out, but Sam reached instead for his wrist and held him still, peering up into his eyes.

"Frodo?"

Frodo huffed a small sigh and then focused on him briefly and Sam felt his heart sink. The clouds were back.

Frodo gently pulled his arm free. "Merry, Pippin," he called out. "It's time you were up and about. I want to strike camp and get moving." He looked around the sunny clearing, his eyes blank. "I want to get home."

The other two hobbits seemed better this morning, although they were uncharacteristically quiet as they washed their faces and tucked into second helpings of soup. They sat close, side by side.

"How long does it take then?" Pip wondered sadly, nibbling at the last of his bread. "Are they there already?"

Merry nudged his shoulder fondly. "Does it matter? They're not here."

Sam tried to catch Frodo's eye but he was lifting Fael's cradle and packing it into the back of the cart. How did it feel to him, looking at that empty spot where he had sat cuddled next to Bilbo this time yesterday? How did it feel to be mounting Gandalf's old cart, where once the ancient wizard had ridden from village to village, the back laden with fireworks?

And what was he thinking as he clicked to the horse and they set off down the long road towards home? Why wouldn't he look at him?

888

September 30th - noon

They stopped for lunch and to stretch their legs, and Sam sat Fael down on a patch of soft grass. His mind had been spinning all morning, wondering what was going on. Had he really thought that worst of it would be over by now? He'd expected grief from Frodo, but not this... coldness.

Was Frodo angry with him for not being there? After all Sam had insisted that he come, overriding Frodo's advice. And then at the last minute when his love had needed him he'd left him alone, to suffer the weight of that grief without support.

Or was something darker on Frodo's mind? In those last moments watching those he loved step on board that ship had he perhaps been tempted to follow? Did he regret the ties that held him back?

Did he regret his wish at last?

Now Sam felt near to tears as Pip and Merry wandered away for a walk and Frodo stood by the bank of the little stream that wound along the side of the road. Sam wanted to speak but he was afraid to open his mouth for fear of howling.

"I might stretch my legs as well," Frodo said indifferently.

"We'll come too," Sam offered but Frodo shook his head sharply.

"I just want a moment alone," he said, his voice rough, eyes averted. "Can't you leave me alone for one minute?"

Stricken Sam collapsed back onto the sward, tears springing to his eyes now and falling down his face. But Frodo was already striding away and didn't see.

888

Sam wiped at the tears on his cheeks and pulled out his hanky for a blow, not wanting Fael to see him crying again and get upset. He was frightened now, almost out of his mind. Something was wrong between them, badly wrong, and in his clumsy way he was only making it worse. Frodo was suffering now, down deep in his heart. Of course he wanted to be left alone to settle himself a bit.

But the hook in his own heart was digging deep and Sam had to wipe his eyes again as he weakly shed a few more tears. Why should Frodo want to be alone now though, when for so long he'd had Sam to turn to when he was sore or afraid?

Fael crawled over to him and demanded some attention and Sam sniffed again and thrust his hanky back into his pocket. Well but if Frodo wanted to walk away here and shed some private tears there was nothing Sam could do to stop him. But once they were home and he was able he'd follow right after his love and remind him quick smart that he didn't have to be alone in his grief any more. They shared the same heart now, that's what he'd remind him, even if he had to tackle him to the ground and sit on him to make him listen!

Fael had dragged himself upright and was again practising his standing, letting go his plump little fingers and swaying on the spot, jabbering excitedly for his father's attention.

"Da da da!" he shouted and even through his anguish Sam could find a smile for such crowing pride.

"There's my clever lad," he praised huskily. "But mind what I told you yesterday. You hold those first steps until your dad is here to see them."

"Do you think his dad deserves them?"

Sam jerked his head up, hope lighting in his heart at the rueful tones. It wavered a bit when he saw the swollen eyes and the tracks of fresh tears, but then Frodo's chin was quivering and his eyes, clear and shiny now, appealed to him.

"I hope you think he still deserves it," Frodo beseeched and without another thought Sam was holding out his arm and his love was flying to him, crowding against his side, tumbled russet curls buried under his chin.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he was weeping, but heart full and eased Sam only patted his shaking shoulders with work worn hands.

"It's all right, love," he whispered, but Frodo was shaking his head now, fiercely.

"It's not all right," he said, pulling back and gazing at him with eyes so blue they took Sam's breath away all over again. "I said awful things, and I didn't mean them! The minute I was alone like I wanted I knew it wasn't what I wanted at all, and I called myself a darn fool!"

Sam reached up and cupped Frodo's dear face, one blunt thumb smoothing a tear damp cheek. "I know you're hurtin', love," he said carefully. "Somethin' fierce. But you know you can come to me when you're hurt, don't you? Like I come to you?"

Frodo curled into his side and Sam cuddled him close, sparing a glance for Fael, who was back on his thickly padded bottom, ripping up handfuls of grass. In a parent's automatic gesture Sam guided one plump fistful away from the child's mouth.

"I do know that," Frodo insisted, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder. "I know you're always there for me, love. I just wasn't thinking clearly, that's all."

Sam slanted him a glance and Frodo met his eyes, apology clear in them.

"It wasn't you, Sam," he admitted lowly. "It was me. Saying goodbye to Bilbo and Gandalf... I thought I was ready for the grief, I really did."

"I should've been there with you," Sam berated himself, but Frodo was shaking his head.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he said sadly. "That feeling that crept over me, there on that dock... There was no escaping that feeling."

"Did you-" Sam broke off, unsure of the words even now. He knew in his heart Frodo wouldn't have left them, no matter what he felt. But was some part of him... "Did you wish you were goin' with them?" he finally managed all in a rush and Frodo lifted his head and gazed at him, open mouthed in amazement.

"No!" he said in shocked tones. "Sam, oh, Sam, is that what you thought?" Blue eyes filled with tears again and Sam squeezed him tighter in dismay.

"No, love, of course not," he hastened to reassure. "It's just, when you pushed me away like..." He shrugged, awkwardly. "I couldn't help remembering all the times I dreamed of that sad grey place. And in my dreams..." Sam met damp blue eyes fearfully. "In my dreams you were sailing away, Frodo, but you was smilin' at me. Like you was glad and eased to go. And my heart was breakin'..."

"Oh, Sam." Now Frodo held him close and Fael was snuggling into his lap, sniffling and calling for his da in comfort.

Frodo scooped him up and cuddled him between them. "It's all right, Fael," he murmured, letting the baby rest against his chest and patting his back. "Da and I are all right." He patted Sam's back with his other hand and Sam could feel himself relaxing under that soothing touch. "You never told me you dreamed of the Havens," Frodo murmured.

"I didn't want to worry you," Sam confessed. "And I haven't dreamt of them more'n a few times since Fael was born. Since you was healed."

"Neither have I," Frodo told him. "And even when I did dream I was never glad to leave you, Sam. If I was smiling in your dream it was just to hide my own heart breaking."

"Then you weren't wishin' you'd sailed with them?" Sam asked again, just to hear the answer out loud.

"No, Sam," Frodo obliged him. "It was just grief making me foolish today. And guilt," he confessed.

"Guilt?"

"Saying goodbye to my past was hard and painful." Frodo sighed and glanced for a moment at the bright blue sky, blinking back more tears. "For a long time Bilbo and Gandalf were the two people I loved most in the world. Before you and Fael."

Sam nodded.

"But coming back to you and our baby, heading back to our happy home... Suddenly I felt torn. As if it were too easy to leave them, as if I didn't care enough. Being so happy to be with you, our long happy lives all before us... Oh, does this make sense?"

Pressing a kiss to a damp cheek Sam nodded again. "Course it does," he said firmly.

Frodo laid his hand against the place Sam had kissed, cheeks creasing in a small, wistful smile. "Gandalf always said the story goes on and on," he recalled. "Which is a sad and a happy thought."

"Because the story's going on without them," Sam agreed. "I remember a few weeks after my mam died. I laughed out loud for the first time. I felt so guilty!" he remembered.

"But she wouldn't have wanted you to be sad forever." Frodo squeezed him tightly. "And the last thing Bilbo said to me was to be happy." He quirked a slightly wider smile. "I just forgot that for a little bit, that's all."

"It's all right to forget." Sam squeezed him back. "So long as you remember again. I'll remind you," he promised.

"Will you, Sam?" Frodo turned serious eyes to him again but Sam could see now that the clouds were gone, blown clean away. They were still a little shiny with tears, and grief still lurked there, but he was himself again, and all and everything to his Sam.

"Always," Sam swore, with all his heart, and was rewarded with another smile.

Fael decided he was bored with sitting and demanded with a wail to be set back down.

Sam caught ahold of him and gave Frodo a wink. "Watch this now, our lad's been savin' something up to show you. Scoot back a little."

Frodo shifted back a little way and Sam turned Fael and let himself steady his small downy feet on the grass.

"Look, Fael! There's dad! D'you see him?"

"Dadadad!" Fael said excitedly, reaching out his hands.

"There's my lad!" Frodo praised, holding his own two hands out. "Come to dad, Fael! Come to daddy!"

A frown knit Fael's brow and he braced himself, clever little eyes measuring the distance and deciding to test it. With one wavering step he was leaning forward and Sam lifted his hands away and let him take it. He tottered the first step, then the second to show it wasn't a fluke, then, just showing off now he managed a third. The last few steps were more of a forward fall than actual walking, but no one was pointing that out as Frodo scooped him up and lifted him high into the sky.

"That's my lad!" he crowed and Fael kicked his little legs as if he couldn't wait to be back on the ground and trying it again.

"What's the fuss about?" Merry called from the woods.

"Come quick!" Sam called. "Fael's taken it into his head to start walkin'!"

"Already?" Pippin said amazed, rushing up and patting the baby's back. "He's a quick learner like his Uncle Pippin!"

"Put him down, see if he can do it again!" Merry urged.

Fael grinned and wriggled his toes, a smug grin on his little face.

"Of course he can do it again," Sam said scornfully. "He'll be runnin' everywhere afore we know it!"

Frodo chuckled and shook his head ruefully. "We might soon enough be longing for the days when he could only crawl," he grinned.

"No holding back this lad," Sam announced, and of course even as he said it he knew he was right.

After all, the story goes on and on...

The End