Title: What May Come
Author: Frodo Baggins of Bag End (FrodoAtBagEnd)
E-mail: febobe at yahoo dot com
Characters: Celebrian, Frodo, Elrond; Gandalf, Bilbo, various others.
Rating: PG-13 or so. It's probably just PG-13, generally, but I don't know angstiness and h/c level for every single chapter yet. This chapter rated PG-13.
Summary: Frodo's healing in the West is not as he had hoped. . .and yet it is more; in Tol Eressea he finds a new home and family, and a different kind of healing. . . .
Feedback: Welcomed. Constructive only, please. . .no flaming.
Story Notes: I am delighted to finally publish a story that I began work on more than a year and a half ago, though to this day I cannot say it will not undergo further revision before some final version. However, it is very dear to my heart, and I thought I might go ahead and share it here as a work-in-progress - open to you all the drafts, notes, etc. - of the past many months and hope that you, too, will enjoy them. The interpretation, of course, is purely mine and was touched upon in "The Memory of Taste" (original publication of first chapter 1/18/03). . .others may disagree, or may share this view, but this is an old project of mine and simply a view I hold. If you wish to hear my reasoning, please ask, and I'll dig up links to my LJ comments dicussing the tale or engage in a discussion with you. But I hope that whether my rational is important to you or not, you will enjoy the story. . .I don't think it's necessary to know the reasoning behind my thought pattern in advance to find pleasure in the tale. :) At least I hope it isn't!
Warning: pure fluff (sometimes angst-filled, sometimes not) written for its own sake. It's not intended to have a grand plot. Lots of Frodo h/c in this, though, so if you like that, you'll enjoy this, especially if you like food detail! If you don't. . .my apologies; to each her (or his) own taste. :) I make absolutely no claims whatsoever that this is a canonically thematic portrayal of the West, though I have attempted to follow some canonical points, at least, of what we know, including that there was never a guarantee of how Frodo's healing would come, if it did, but that he might seek it there. . .as well as in some other matters, such as some of the book's characters actually being there at this time. Beyond those little points, I'm not even attempting to create a canonically purist story. This is purely for pleasure.
Part V Notes: An extra-extra-extra-special thanks to all those who have reviewed thus far!
A word of reassurance for those who still worry. . .as I've promised, no, this one is not a deathfic; I have no plans for the Ringbearer to expire. . .so please don't fret!
For permission to reproduce any part of this fanfic, please e-mail your request to febobe at yahoo dot com.
DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and story of The Lord of the Rings are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and consequently of the Tolkien Estate, with select rights by Tolkien Enterprises. This piece appears purely as fanfiction and is not intended to claim ownership of Tolkien's work in any way. Please e-mail me if you have concerns. Original characters, such as Mornaduial and Narien, are my own work; please do not use my creations in your work. Please respect my original contributions. Furthermore, please do NOT consider any treatments or remedies within this story safe or effective for use: these are included as fictitious hobbit care, not real human medical practice, and while some can indeed be traced to actual therapeutic practices, could be dangerous. Please consult your health care professional before treating yourself or others for any condition or symptom.
Part V: Time Found, Time Lost
Almost ready.
Celebrian stood in the middle of her bedchamber, inspecting the newly delivered array of items, many of which had been brought with a shaking of heads from Mornaduial and Narien. Yet they had not refused to help her, and now she had sturdy, wide step-stools. . .extra blankets. . .plenty of pillows. . .and a down comforter, though the weather was warm.
How cold it had been at first, how terribly cold. . .she did not like to recall it. And yet, she chastised herself, there is one who cannot forget. Will you put away the memory so soon, when you will need it again?
A wave of pain assailed her, and she lurched to catch herself against the mattress of the bed.
Frozen can't move can't breathe so cold so cold the Ring the Ring so cold I don't understand hurts don't leave me don't leave me hurts so can't breathe hurts hurts hurts so cold so cold cold cold. . .
She swallowed hard against a flash of nausea. Close. Sweet Eru, they were close.
"Celebrian?"
Narien's voice warmed and steadied her almost as much as the arm which rounded her shoulders. After a moment, she nodded. "What is it?"
"Are you all right?" Her companion's voice was rich with concern, all else forgotten for the moment.
"Yes. . .yes, I'm fine. What is it?"
Excitement returned to Narien's tones. "A ship has been sighted coming toward our port."
---
They waited in silence together, and if Narien thought her friend odd for insisting upon bringing a blanket, she said naught of it, for which Celebrian was grateful. Thoughts raced through her mind, and always there was the ever-pressing presence, the sense of cold and fear and pain. . .mingled now with her own mounting fear.
So many years. . .so much has changed! Will he. . .what if he no longer. . .don't be foolish, Bri! Of course he will still love you! But. . .what if. . . ?
As the boat neared, she could see him.
He hadn't changed a bit, though she would hardly have expected him to, for the Firstborn did not age, nor would he have gone to war, that he should incur such grave wounds as they cannot heal from.
And his eyes searched the shore for her with such longing that the instant she saw them, her doubts and fears dissolved as light upon the water, and she felt as if she could dance.
He smiled, then, and his smile was kind as summer, as ever it had been, and she felt blessed among ellith. . .but suddenly she remembered: what had happened, that the sense of cold and fear and pain should vanish thus? Surely, no. . .
And just as abruptly as it had gone, it assailed her afresh: but this time she could see why. As the boat docked and came to a steady rest, Elrond turned, and gathered up what appeared to be a small bundle, which he carried as he would a child. Carefully he made his way to the exit, carrying the bundle down in his arms as if it were precious and fragile beyond words.
They did not run to one another, but walked, with the same slow, stately pace borne of centuries' practice, meeting swiftly enough in the midst of the gathering crowd, aware that many stopped to stare at them - the son of Earendil and Elwing, reunited with his bride. Well, let them, thought Celebrian, fluffing the blanket over her arm as her smile widened - the first smile she had given him in ages, she realised.
"Your hair has grown."
His soft voice took her almost by surprise, and at once she found that she could have wept with the joy of hearing it aloud again. "So has yours."
He laughed, then, nodding, and leaned forward to kiss her lips, brushing them warmly with his own before pulling back, his voice still soft as he spoke again. "I have someone for you to meet - someone whom I hope you will not mind joining us for a little. Someone very special." He tucked back the blanket to reveal a mop of dark curls above the most startling blue eyes, set into a frighteningly pale face, that Celebrian had ever seen. The bundle was no larger than a child, and yet clearly he was not a child; everything about his features seemed that of an adult, if a miniature one. "Celebrian, this is Frodo Baggins, bearer of the One Ring and saviour of Arda; Frodo, this is Celebrian, my wife."
"Hello, Frodo." She spoke quietly as she bent over the little person, smiling. "Are you cold? I have brought an extra blanket from home for you."
Relief lit his shy gaze at once, and he nodded timidly. "Yes - yes, please," came the answer, accompanied by a grave nod from Elrond. . .and a flood of thought.
-We must get him to bed at once. Galadriel and I between us were hard-pressed to keep him alive long enough to reach this shore. I would take him to our home, if you will - or we can bear him to the healers instead, rather than having help come to us - -
She nodded. -Nay, I would have him with us instead. Preparations are already laid. Let us take him home.-
They looked down at the bundle in Elrond's arms. Blue eyes had fluttered closed, and Frodo was trembling as if with grave chill.
There was little time to lose.
-to be continued-