They don't understand.
They think I'm trapped in the Quest, trapped in nightmares I can't escape…
How can I explain it's the now that I can't escape?
I tried to explain once: just after Gandalf left us on the borders of the Shire. Merry said he felt like our journey was becoming a dream. And I felt the opposite. Like I was falling asleep. They didn't understand—I could see it in their faces. So I let the matter drop.
I'm glad they don't understand, actually. It means they can fit back into the lives they've left, different perhaps, but it's a better different. As for me…I am trapped in a dream that I cannot wake from. I was certain I would not return from the Quest. How could I? When Gandalf first told me about the Ring, I could not even throw it into my little fire, which I knew would not harm it. when I accepted the charge to be the Ring-bearer, I knew I was going to my death, because the only way to destroy the Ring was to burn with it.
And in the end, I even failed at that. The moment of claiming—and being claimed by—the Ring was a moment of agonizing ecstasy that is forever seared into my memory.
And I have never felt more alive.
And now, though I survived what I was sure would be my death, I feel as if I were dreaming. Because after all I have been through, surely something this simple, this innocent, must be a dream. The Shire shrugs off the evil it endured, as do my dear friends and cousins…and I do not.
So it seems that the Shire is no longer for me. I have played a role in saving it, and I am glad, but I can no longer stay. I will accept Arwen's gift, and find the last sight I have not seen—the Sea.
What is this? Frodo never talks to me... Hope you enjoyed this really unusual fic from me, and please review!