This was my destiny – or rather, my fate – and I accept it reluctantly. What lies before me now, is my future. But what is left of me to make a future out of? The sea calls to me. Its ocean waves glisten in the luminescent moonlight, and sings to my scarred soul. Yes – it is scarred, broken, and will never heal. It will never cry out a pure laugh, or enjoy the simple things in life I had once enjoyed with such a great extent. I will never be able to take joy in the pictures the golden sunset paints in the sky; the fresh smells of Bag End in dawn’s silent hours. The grandness of the Shire is but a reminder to what I have lost so that others may keep them.

Even as I sit before the fire, and watch my true friend – my companion, Sam, toss Eleanor up with such grace into the warm, glowing shadows, and then catch her with a hearty laugh – Even things as that gives me pain to see. I can nearly hear quiet snickering as I steady my eye on Sam’s joyful face. “He knows what happiness is.” I muse to myself. “He’s felt the one thing I will never feel again.”

They worry and fret over me, Sam and Rosie. Although they try their best to bring me comfort – and I appreciate it – their kind, loving words and embraces will not ease my pain, but cause it to grow until the pain is no longer light enough for my broken body to carry. Their loving motions just whisper to my mind that I soon won’t have their warm hugs to stifle the loud ache in my heart.

I turn my gaze away from Sam and Eleanor. It sickens me that I cannot even lay eyes upon them without growing weary with sorrow. My eyes look about the room, searching for something that might relieve me of my pain, but it is all in vain – and I know it. Rosie walks into the room, wiping her hands clean of the soapsuds from her previous chores. She doesn’t see me forcing a smile at her. She lets out a chuckle while Sam walks over to her, with Eleanor reaching out for her mother’s embrace. The innocent love I see in her child’s face as she laughed with the two hobbits I cared most about was enough to make me break down at that moment, if it had not been for my teeth to bite down upon my quivering bottom lip.

Sam and Rosie were sitting on the floor playing with their beloved child when I could not suppress my pain any longer. Quickly, stumbling a few times on the way, I sped to the door. I could feel the silence as Sam and Rose stopped to watch me, most likely concern written all over their faces and I opened the door with a loud creak, and ran out to the gate, to distracted with hurt to remember to shut the door behind me.

The stars were shining brightly that night – too brightly. I almost had to shield my eyes from one star in particular. Its inner glow wrapped around me as I gazed at its glorified magnificence, like the day I first laid eyes on the Lady Galadriel, deep in the white wood of Lothlorien. Quickly I stopped my train of thought and covered my eyes. I couldn’t think about that. The quest was too much of a fiery burden, a vast chasm upon my chest. I shuddered as the chill autumn air blew over my hair, teasing my slightly sweaty forehead, when I heard footsteps from behind me.

“You can’t always do this, Frodo.”

At that moment I stopped shivering, and nearly stopped breathing, hanging my head. It was almost as if I was hearing Sam’s loving voice for the first time in many years. But I did not dare move. I strove to speak, but no words would come out of my mouth. A sob caught in my throat, choking me as I tried to hold back the tears that brimmed at the corner of my eyes.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it whirled me around to see a Sam I had never seen before. His face was twisted in inner agony – an agony more painful than death – with his eyes shooting back and forth between mine, as if he were searching for an answer to something in my pale features. I only stared back, focusing my eyes on the iris of his brown eyes. He took a deep breath, and placed his hand on my other shoulder, so that both of his arms stretched out to reach me.

“You cannot hold it in forever.”

He spoke softly, and it comforted me, if only a little, for the first time for a long while. But I couldn’t speak of my deepest sorrows, and I couldn’t get myself to let Sam see my anguish. I was cursed forever, and the last thing I wanted was to spread the poison of my curse into the ones I loved more than the stars, the moon, the Shire…

I nodded and looked down to my feet. Sam was still watching me. He had a knack for seeing my soul like a hawk sees his prey before he jumps for the kill. He was waiting for something, but for what I was still unsure. Surely he wanted an answer from me, but I could feel it in my bones that that was not what he had been waiting for since the first day I woke up after the ring was destroyed.

After what seemed like hours of bickering between my inner thoughts and reality, Sam sighed, breaking me out of my trance, and took his hand off my left shoulder, where the scar had been, and proceeded to lead me back into Bag End. Rosie was nowhere to be found, until I heard a quiet voice in the kitchen, following a loud giggle, obviously from Eleanor.

Sam pushed me from behind into the sitting room, where the fire was blazing, and then left me standing in the middle of the room while he exited. Having nothing to do but sit and wallow in my endless sorrow, I sat down and stared at the fire once again, snuggling deep into the fluffy, black, leather chair.

Sam returned not too long afterwards with a cup of tea in his hands. Smiling, he sat in the chair opposite of mine, and handed the tea to me.

“Thank you, Sam”

My voice was shaking, but Sam seemed unusually pleased. I ignored the strange glance that Sam was giving me as he leaned closer towards me, now sitting at the edge of the chair, his elbows resting on his legs while his hands dangled between his knees. I sipped at the tea slowly, not daring to gaze into who-knows-what expression Sam had on his face.

“Mr. Frodo… …” Sam said quietly.

Saddened emotion once again began to well up in my eyes as I watched the flaming red fire crackle on the hearth, I didn’t bit my lip back, and for the first time since I’d returned to Bag End, I let the tears of war stream down my face in front of my friend.

********

“This is it!” I had chanted to myself.

All these long months I had been waiting for this – this one moment. I could see in the dim light one tear stream down Frodo’s cheek, and I gasped silently with delight, relief and excitement all in one. Frodo had been hiding his pain for too long, but all I could do was wait, and let his sorrow take its course before he could open up. It hurt me to see him fight his emotions almost every night, but all that anguished waiting lead up to the now.

For about fifteen seconds all I could do was watch Frodo in amazement as his emotions unfolded before me, like a day lily at the first sign of dawn. Then he looked up to me, his teacup trembling in between his two hands. Then one tear began to slowly sink down his other cheek. I could bare it no longer.

“Mr. Frodo!” I had burst out, tears beginning to burn my eyes, and leapt into Frodo’s arms.

Frodo embraced back, and began to sob into my shoulder, clutching at my tunic with surprising strength.

“Oh, Frodo, you’re finally back!” I exclaimed – forgetting to address him as ‘Mr.’- as I myself began to weep as my Master’s pain seeped away. He never seemed himself until this moment, as his fears disappeared for if only, a brief moment.

“S-Sam… …” Frodo had sobbed, trying to regain his composure.

“Just let it all out Mr. Frodo. Let it go.” I reassured him tenderly.

He than wept harder, and I brushed his dark, curly hair back as his knuckles began to grow white as they desperately clenched the tear stained cloth of my shirt in between his thin fingers. After several minutes, and beginning to gasp for air, Frodo released his grip from me, and sunk to his knees before the fire, sniffling and wiping the tears from his face.

Carefully, and any protest from Frodo, I lifted him into my arms and he leaned his head on my chest as if he were a child, breathing heavily. He still weighed barely anything, and had never really gained back the weight he had lost during those evil days as we walked south, towards my Master’s doom.

I carried him to his room, where thousands – or so it seemed – of parchment lie around the ground and over his desk. As I passed the desk, I noticed the pages were blotched with uneven circles of dry tears, smearing some of the once ever-flowing ink letters.

Gently laying him down onto the bed, I noticed he had already fallen asleep in my arms. Covering him up with the flowery quilt Rose once made for him, he sighed and sagged into the pillows. He looked relieved, and I took comfort in knowing that he finally had a shoulder to cry on.

“Sam?”

I whirled around, to see Rosie peering around the door. Looking back to Frodo, I placed a kiss on his forehead, and drew back his curls from his beautifully pale face, and slowly got up from the bed and walked to Rosie.

“Did he-”

“Yes, Rose.” I said quietly, shutting the door behind him after taking one last look at his peacefully sleeping master. “He did.”

******

I sat staring into the sky, and the sea
glistened from the sun, smiling down on our
ship. I was gripping my phial, and it glowed
with a magnificent golden hue.
I didn’t notice, but my eyes were wet and
my tears flowed down my cheek. I sat by my
window, watching the waves crash against the
glowing boat. Off in the distance a mountain
loomed over a field of grass. It had a beauty
I have never seen before, and it reflected
into the sea. I strained to get up. My legs
were for some reason weary as I took each slow step.
Opening the door, and onto the deck, the sun
welcomed me, and brought great warmth on my
face. And as I peered off I could
scarcely remember my friends,
but could hear their voices.
Then, as if what was disappeared,
all my pain was gone.
And we sailed away forever, never to return.

“One day, we will meet again”

The End.