Samwise's Dreame
I had another dream last night. Not a normal dream, you understand. A special dream. A vivid dream. A dream such as Mr. Frodo used to get, so many years ago. Did I say years? No, it's been decades.
I never used to dream these dreams when my Rose was here. But in these years since she died I've begun to have the same dream over and over. They bring messages in my sleep. Dreams which are telling me something. I think I've finally figured them out.
In all these dreams I'm standing on a cliff overlooking the Sea. Now, I've been to the Sea. My Elanor lives with her family near the Sea out in the Tower Hills of Westmarch.
I don't particularly like the Sea. It reminds me too much of Mr. Frodo's leaving. Too much water. Too wild and uncertain it is. The Sea is the symbol of death, and I have seen far too much of that in my life. But in my dream the Sea is calm. No winds. No stinging salt spray. No crying of gulls or pipers. Tiny waves lapping the shore. All is calm and still.
In my dreams it is sunset, and the sun burns gold and red, turning the waters into a vast Sea of molten bronze and copper as if it were truly were a hot liquid metal. There is a path down from my cliff to the shoreline. It starts at my toes and ends at a golden quay jutting into the calm waters. A little boat is tied to the dock, but no one is around.
In my dreams I see a ship appearing from the uttermost West. It is hardly visible at first, appearing as a small dark speck against the brightness of the setting sun. I squint my eyes and try shading out the light, but I cannot make out the details of the ship. But it is coming. Coming for me.
After my Rose died this dream started. Back then the dream never got any farther than me looking at the sunset ship from my high cliffside vantage. My feet are rooted to the ground. I cannot move, even though I know the ship is coming for me. I don't want to go. As the years have passed, I've lost some of my dread of this ship. I can move now.
In my dreams starting a couple of years ago, I walk down the little pathway to the quay. I am supposed to go meet the ship in the water, rowing myself out onto the Sea all by myself. Did I mention I don't like boats? I get nervous around that much water. Even little rivers and pools like the Water or the Brandywine make me nervous. In my dream I am supposed to overcome my fears and take the little boat out onto the vastness of the Sea. I still hesitate. I am still afraid.
In the past few weeks the ship comes nearer. I can see its white sails. It's a large ship, but not too large. One of the big folk's ships, or perhaps one of the Elvish ships I saw take my Mr. Frodo from me that sorrowful day at the Grey Havens. But this ship does not have the graceful carved swan at its bow. It is more like something a hobbit would build. Plain. Not fancy. The wood is normal brown; not the glimmering white of the Elvish ships. Its sails are plain white with a single gold-rimmed green leaf emblazoned in the middle. I cannot see anyone aboard.
Should I take the boat and row out to the ship? When I get there, what will I find? Where are its inhabitants? Who is its captain? Where is it going, and would I find a welcome there?
I stand on the dock, undecided. I cannot bring myself to go to the ship. I am afraid of the water. I am afraid of the ghosts which surely inhabit the ship. Usually my dream ends with the ship turning about and drifting away into the rapidly gathering gloom. And I wake up with a profound sense of loss. Of something I need to do.
But last night's dream was different. When I come down the cliff, my beloved Rose is there at the quay. She is young again. I am young. She has gay ribbons of sky blue and apple green in her golden-brown hair, and a gold-rimmed green mallorn leaf in her delicate hand. The same leaf as on the sunset ship's sail.
In my dream I know that she cannot go to the ship with me. But if I take the leaf from her hand, she will somehow be with me. I won't be alone. The leaf will keep the waters calm and I will be safe. I don't have to be afraid of the ship. Of the journey. My Rose will always be with me.
Last night's dream completed the message. I kissed my Rosie-girl on her honey lips and took the leaf, going to the little boat tied to the mooring. As I cast off, Rose blows me a kiss and fades into the twilight. But I have the leaf. It is safe against my bosom, close to my heart and my soul. I have my Rose. I am not afraid. I pick up the smooth wooden oars and row into the mists gathered around the ship.
In last night's dream I reach the ship and a sturdy rope ladder is lowered over the side. I climb it. A hand reaches down to help me aboard. The hand has only four fingers.
I must leave Bag End. My journey takes me back to the Grey Havens. A ship awaits me there. I know it as surely as I know death cannot separate me from my beloved Rose. I know it as surely as I know the Sundering Sea cannot separate me from my beloved Mr. Frodo. He needs me again. It is he who is calling me. He needs me to show him the way through the Blessed Realm and into what lies beyond. The Elves cannot do this. Gandalf cannot do this. Only another mortal can do this last service for him. And I will go. We will spend a little while there, then join Rosie.
I look forward to tonight. I don't think I will be disturbed by dreams any more in my life here on Middle Earth. For I have kept my promise, and my dreams will all come true.