When Arwen gave Frodo her pendant and told him that he could sail in her place, had she discussed this yet with her father? What did Elrond discover about Frodo's health/spirit when they met up again in Minas Tirith six months after their first meeting in Rivendell? Does Elrond feel remorseful that Frodo has paid so high a price for a task that he (Elrond) might have taken on himself? Does he examine Frodo in Minas Tirith and see him as a glass filled with a clear light, and worthy of the West? In other words, when Elrond sees Frodo again after Arwen's wedding, what are his thoughts/feelings/actions?

A plot bunny kindly donated by Shirebound

As always . . . I do not own the characters, settings or events. I'm just speculating in between the pages of JRR Tolkien's work.

HARMONY

The Master of Rivendell sank back in his chair and closed his eyes, weary to the core of his being. His son's comforting presence appeared behind him, feeding strength into his sire.

Elrond raised leaden eyelids, glancing up in thanks to Elrohir and accepting the offered gift. Opposite them, Arwen was smoothing the covers over their charge, while Sam hovered at her side. The little gardener caught Elrond's eye accusingly as soon as he noticed that the healer was once more conscious of them. Sam's voice was filled with concern and not a little accusation, the words tumbling over themselves to be heard.

"What happened? Why have you stopped? You said there was a bit of poisoned metal in him. You've got to get it out. Don't leave my master like this."

"It is destroyed, Samwise. I have melted it." Elrond was unable to keep the weariness from his voice and Gandalf came to his aid against the over-protective Sam.

"Master Elrond has indeed melted it, Sam. It is not always necessary to use physical means to destroy such a weapon. It was spelled to attack your master's spirit, rather than his body, and Elrond has fought like with like. Trust me, Sam. It is gone."

Elrond smiled briefly, knowing that Sam would believe Gandalf where he would not believe a stranger. He reached forward to rest fingers against the small pulse fluttering in Frodo's throat, relieved when the hobbit's pale eyelids flickered in vague response to the touch.

Gone? Elrond had no doubt it was melted but whether Frodo would ever be rid of it entirely was something that would only be evident with time. He would have preferred to cut it free but time was too short. The shard had almost reached the hobbit's heart and he was so weak that a large blood loss would have been the final stroke. Such an action would only have aided the enemy in ensorcelling Frodo. So he had unbound the metal. However, the components were still circulating in Frodo's body. He was no longer in any danger of becoming a wraith but Elrond was uncertain how much the hobbit's small body would be able to purge. He thought it likely that Frodo would carry some of the effects for the rest of his life.

Lifting heavy fingers, the elven healer moved his hand, running it down Frodo's left shoulder and arm. His eyes discerned something . . . a pale light that seemed to glow through the fine veined skin. Had he the strength left to do so, the elven healer would have reached into Frodo, to listen to the song of his soul. Perhaps not all the effects of the enemy's weapon were to Frodo's detriment? He glanced across the broad bed, one eyebrow arched in query, and was met with small nods from his daughter and Gandalf. They had seen it too.

The flesh beneath his fingers still felt icy and he began to worry that the damage done was irreversible. But no . . . the merest hint of warmth was spreading down the limb and Elrond sighed. Reaching across, he lifted Sam's hand from the coverlet and laid it upon his master's forearm.

"There, Samwise. Can you feel it? He will recover."

Sam's fingers, sensitive enough to handle the most delicate of rootlets, wrapped themselves about his master's arm as his other hand reached out to take hold of Frodo's hand. For a moment his eyes were fixed upon the still pale cheeks of his friend, his chin quivering as he fought to control the tears of relief and joy that threatened to overwhelm him. He turned to the mighty elf lord who had struggled for three days to help his master.

"Thank you, Master Elrond, sir. I shouldn't have questioned you. You've given of your very best." There was a hitch of indrawn breath and the little gardener dropped his eyes to the examination of his master's fingers.

A wry smile touched Gandalf's face and he dropped his life callused hand upon Sam's shoulder. "You have been Frodo's support and strength through a perilous time, with little thought for your own comfort or feelings. It is safe to release the pain you have been pushing down all these long days in the wild. You have been hurt too and it is time to find your own healing. Not all tears are an evil."

Whether from Gandalf's comforting words or from the familiar grip upon his shoulder, Elrond could not tell but he saw a great burden lift from the gardener. Sam lowered his head onto Frodo's hand and began to sob, while Gandalf stroked his back. With his head buried in the richly embroidered coverlet, Sam did not see it, but Elrond noticed a small crease form between Frodo's brows and a slight tilt of his head in his friend's direction.

It seemed to Elrond that all tension lifted from the room at that moment and he rose slowly, accepting his son's help. Frodo would not die this day. Tomorrow would carry troubles of its own but they would be faced soon enough.

Behind them, Arwen opened the windows and the soft night air drifted in to caress them all, carrying the scent of life and the sound of cleansing, rushing water.

TBC