Alive
As time flows on eventually all worry must come to an end, all things held onto, lost, all desire, come to pass, all suffering, born to hope, all chaos, to peace. One cannot stay in the infinite, dark, cosmic abyss for eternity, nor can they be completely unscathed by it. It is only the bravest, hardiest, most pure of souls that can get through such a perilous realm, and succeed in leaving it behind- or as much as one possibly can, as nothing from such catastrophic events can remain completely unscathed.
So it was of course, the eventuality that our brave Hobbit friends whom had been through so much, would eventually awake.
The day was the fourteenth of the new year, or April the eighth by Shire-reckoning, as befits my young friends. Although now in changed times, the new year now fell upon the twenty-fifth of March, in honour of the start of a new era.
The day was fragrant, filled with the sweet mingled scent of flower blown in from the Bay of Belfalas, and the running Anduin. The leaves rustled, beechen boughs creaking softly, and the sun was warm but not hot.
In other words, it was almost as one could say, a perfect day.
On this day, things were quiet among us. Merry and Pippin- for after their time apart, they would not leave each other's side for even a moment, such was the bond between the two- were versing each other at tiddlywinks, for what must have been the thousandth time. Gimli, Legolas and I were too playing a game, commandeered from who knew where. Sometimes the resources that my friends pulled out of seemingly nowhere were enough to scare. It was some sort to trivia game- Gimli and I verses Legolas. So far, we were two points ahead. Aragorn and Gandalf were, as always, off who knew where. Although their presence was sorely missed, we all mutually agreed that we could not blame them for a single second of it.
The mood was underlined with worry. Today marked exactly three weeks that Frodo and Sam had yet to wake. It was not healthy for a person to sleep that long in one straight period, under any circumstance.
"What tree produces acorns?" Legolas read out from a game card.
"Ha, I know this one!" Gimli exclaimed, happy he knew something on the topic of trees. The subjects that came up on the cards were exceedingly and increasingly random. "Darke, don't say a word!" I nodded, giving Gimli a moment of silence to think. "It's an Oak tree!"
"Correct."
I clapped Gimli on the shoulder. "Well done randi. I thought I may actually have to speak there!" We all chuckled. As things had turned out, I knew the answers to a great deal of the questions but Gimli had wanted to see if he too knew the answers. Although people often took him for a simpleton, he was not so: he had great stores of knowledge, but also a very methodical way of thinking. Henceforth I had hardly spoken. I found that it was not an issue: the simple act of being in company and to be included was a gift in itself.
The clatter of dice on the board signified Legolas's turn, and 5 taps on the board later I picked a card from the pile and handed it to the dwarf. "The question is…" he held a dramatic pause for sheer amusement "what is an appendix?"
"An appendix?" Legolas repeated. "That's the add-ons at the end of a document is it not?"
"No my good elf, that's and appendice. This is an appendix. With an 'X'.
"Appendice with an X?" Merry questioned from the other side of the room, curiosity aroused. "I haven't heard of one like that before. It sounds like some sort of flower, doesn't it Pip?" Pippin agreed. "Or an exotic spice. Darke, enlighten us with your aged knowledge!"
In these more peaceful times, Pippin's youth was making itself known through many a crack at out ages. Myself being the eldest currently present, was no exception to this rule. However, with age did not come all knowledge. "Alas, I have never even heard of it before. Perhaps it is a misspelling?"
Gimli chuckled at all our attempts and fails to find an explanation for the offbeat expression. "Apparently, according to this card, it is an organ within the body." Legolas guffawed and spluttered at the explanation.
"How does it expect us to know that! Come, give me another question." Let it be known as an observation from a stranger to the topic, that board games do strange things to people. They twist them, and turn them beyond reason.
Nobody expected the knock on the door.
It could be immediately assumed that it was a stranger. If it had been Aragorn or Gandalf-the only two possibilities- they would've waltzed directly in. It was technically their property after all. "Did anybody call any visitors?" Merry asked. There was a simultaneous shaking of heads. I held up a finger.
"Give me a second." I walked out of the room and into the hall. I listened for breathing, heartbeats, shuffling.
A boy no older than eleven, breathing heavily from running and shuffling a little whilst waiting is what I heard. "It's a boy." I called back to the room. "Probably a messenger." Immediate confused glances could be assumed. There was an air of worry that immediately cast over us all. Has something happened? Are Aragorn and Gandalf alright? Has there been another assassination attempt? Naught but two days ago had there been an assassination attempt on Aragorn by a Haradhrim rebel: many had come to see the errors in their ways and had come to their senses, but many also stuck stubbornly to beliefs that Sauron was some sort of saviour of their nation.
The land that was not already burnt by sun would have been burnt by flames. All should have known that.
Such worries about the two of them were immediately quelled though, for they could easily take care of things themselves. Both Aragorn and Gandalf had enormous power at their disposal. Little worry of physical injury needed to be given for them.
Thoughts immediately turned to the Hobbit's. We had visited them often, almost every second day, yet they showed no signs of change. Their breathing, their heartbeats, their position lying on the soft down remained identical day after day. We worried that they would simply drift off in their sleep, unguarded, unaware of the true monument that they had achieved. Of what they had done to deserve more than the entire of Middle-earth could give them.
"We should not leave him waiting." Gimli's voice of reason stated through the clamouring silence. I silently thanked him for snapping me out of utter procrastination.
Handle turned, door pulled. A young boy stood on the steps just as I had predicted.
"Message for Prince Thrandu…Thrandil.. Thranduillion, Lord Gloinsson, Knight's Took and Brandybuck and Lady Dale?" He asked in order of rank. Ah. So somebody has picked up my incognito name. Very interesting.
"That would be us."
"From Thorongil: They are waking up. Please meet me by the healing halls as soon as you get this message." I cocked my head to the side, confused at who this 'Thorongil' he spoke of was. I thanked the boy, slightly confused. They are waking up. Please meet me by the healing halls almost certainly referred to Frodo and Sam. But it could possibly be someone else, or a trap of some kind.
Why would somebody set a trap? And who is this Thorongil? It is a name I am unfamiliar with. By Eru, I am paranoid.
I walked back into the living area suitably confused and concerned. "A man called Thorongil tells us 'They are waking up. Please meet me by the healing halls as soon as you get this message.' Does anybody know a Thorongil, or have even heard the name?"
To our complete confusion, a joyous laugh escaped Legolas's lips and broke loud upon the air. "Thorongil is Aragorn my friends!" He exclaimed. "It is an alias he sometimes uses." We decided not to question the elf, he having known Aragorn in person far longer than any of us. Instead, broad smiles broke across our faces and cries of elation and wonder felled our lips.
Now crowded round the entrance to the Halls, joy had steadily morphed into concern. We were still amazed, filled with euphoria, but there were worries that plagued us.
It was universal knowledge that the two Hobbit's that would wake up would not be the two Hobbit's that we had parted with all those months ago. Experiences such as these did not leave a person unchanged… or unscarred. But exactly how traumatized would they be? Would they be unrecognisable to even those closest to them? Would they try to hide it, all the while fearing every shadow? Would they needlessly defy all concept of fear, for what they had experienced made them too afraid of fear? Potential negative results were infinite. Few positive outcomes came to mind.
We were scared. Scared for what these innocent, joyful people whom we had once known may have become.
Aragorn appeared from someplace-I could not hear select spots very well due to the gaggle of street noise- and was immediately pummelled with questions. "How do you know they're waking?"
"How did you find out?"
"Are they alright?" Were among the most common. I too, was not exempt from pestering.
"Your questions will be answered in time." Aragorn told us. "I myself don't quite know what is happening yet. A healer came racing into the council, talking so fast I could hardly understand. But from what I understood, they are stirring and could wake at any moment."
Curiosity and anticipation fomented.
We walked the familiar route into the room to find Gandalf already waiting for us. "Has anything happened?"
"Not yet. Have patience."
We waited for incalculable lengths of time , anticipation cancelling out any boredom that would dare fall upon us. They were definitely stirring. I could hear their breaths become faster and shallower, their hearts speed up from the lulled pace it had kept all these weeks. I could observe no physical injury to either, but that did not mean they were without injury to the soul.
And so we waited.
Sam was first to rouse from slumber. I am proud to announce that it was I whom predicted when both would- be it literal seconds previous to waking or not. There was a significant increase in heart rate, then slight movement as Sam stirred awake. A distinct rubbing sound as eyes were rubbed open, and sore creak of little used limbs stretched to extent.
Then, a peculiar sniffing: for indeed, the air smelt sweet, the kind that brought back memories and transported one out of time. "Bless me! How long have I been asleep?" The Hobbit voiced to himself, not having yet noticed us. Sam's voice was hoarse from lack of water and use. Nobody could lay blame for it. "What a dream…good thing I woke…" he muttered, trailing off, mingled remnants of sleep, dreams and reality mixed in one cosmic bowl. He seemed hardly aware of movement.
Did he remember nothing of what had transpired? Would he refuse to believe such events could have been achieved by a gardener such as himself? It appeared not, because after sitting silent for but a few moments, something clicked.
When Sam cried out, his voice was of fear and disbelief. "That wasn't a dream at all!...Where are we?" Nobody said anything, but finally it was Gandalf who brought our presence to his attention and gave the answers sought.
"You are in Ithilien: and all await you." He chuckled softly. "Well Master Samwise, how do you feel?"
The clop of a mouth opening and closing as complete bewilderment passed through a brain signalled surprise. Sam began to laugh a little in disbelief and the joy! Such pure joy I had not heard. Until at last he gasped out "Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then, I thought myself to be…is everything bitter going to uncome? What…what has happened to the world?"
Despite it being at expense, I could feel the corners of my lips twitching until they were forced into a position of jubilance: and I am certain that I was not the only one. This is a Hobbit who has kept true to himself through thick and thin. This is our Sam.
"A great shadow has passed from the land." Gandalf said with dramatic talent. In expression evident, a great beam.
And then laughter fell upon our ears, laughter filled with such elation and wonder that the land had never been filled with such likes before! The sound was like a symphony to one who has never heard, like water upon a droughted desert. The sound was like Spring rain, and one by one more voices united until an orchestra, the likes of which had never been perceived drove in waves away all melancholy. The merriment may have lasted for seconds or days, for not did time pass: nor did tangibility exist.
"How do I feel…" the poor fellow eventually began to stutter. "It's… undescribable…like trees after winter, like trumpets, harps, and all the songs I have ever heard!" But then he stopped, and grew solemn. "But how's Mister Frodo? It's a shame about his poor hand isn't it? I hope he's alright. He's had a cruel time." Sam, always so selfless. Never focussing on his own desires. The epiphany for goodness.
Hand though? I had heard nothing of a hand. Had something perhaps happened to it? If so, there would be no surprise. In truth, I had been both amazed and concerned at how unscathed they had been. This brought reality onto the spectrum. I would ask later though.
It was Sam's very words that made me turn my attention to the second heartbeat. It was speeding up rapidly, to the rate that it should be. "Look and see for yourself." I pointed to the now waking Frodo. The disorientation was evident, but apparently the Hobbit, the hero I should say, had been somewhat awake for a while. Sam's question was answered with one of the best responses that could be given.
The entire room warmed, and even without sight you could easily tell Frodo was smiling. "I am alright." The smile created a bubble of gladness, of love, and hope…all things were right in the world. He yawned, still lethargic from long rest. "I fell asleep again waiting for you Sam, you sleepyhead. Now it seems that you are all here!"
A thought ran through his head, loud enough to be heard. You're all here…
"Gandalf…" he whispered in disbelief. "Gandalf!" The joy, the complete disbelief, the surprise and Gandalf's sheer amusement at all their confusion led to yet another laugh. This began with Gandalf's deep throaty chuckle, to be joined by Frodo's flutes, Sam's bells and person upon person until for the second time that day, a true orchestra was heard, the greatest composition of all that had faired any ears: for the whole world was truly content.
It was then in a surprising move, that Sam swung his legs over the edge of the bed. From reactions around me, I could tell that he was taking one shaky step, than another. Groans of unused muscles and creaks of bones set solid sounded in remorse, but the fae did not give up. A second set of creaks, groans and a generally grumbling body announced Frodo copying the act. A great cheer rose up as the two Hobbits stood solidly once again, and proceeded to embrace each other, amazed that they had both gotten through such hardship. Pippin and Merry soon joined the fray, leaving the rest of us to have solid beams fixed permanently across our faces.
A/N-Heeyyy guuuysss...long time, no see right? Computer troubles. Also, I really wanted to make certain that this chapter was as perfect as possible-it being a really major moment and all- so please tell me what you think of it? Did you like the book version better? The movie? This weird, wacky, speculative combination?
You're all awesome and thanks for hanging in there:)
