Where They Are

It wasn't a place. Home. Dear though Bag End had been, occupied by Sackville-Bagginses as it now was, home it could not be. It was just another hobbit-hole now, though nicer than most, nothing more. Odd. It had never been about a place, not really. It had been about family and friends and love and being surrounded by them. That was what made home, made shelter. His Mum and Da were his home for a pitifully short time, and then the Brandybucks, large numbers of Brandybucks had been his shelter. Later, Uncle Bilbo made his home and most recently, Sam, often with the help of Merry and Pippin.

He never thought THIS place could feel like home. It was about as far from a hobbit-hole as could possibly be found. Vast, austerely beautiful and grand it was, but never cozy nor homey. Somehow though, even the tall and mysterious elves moving about him could not make it seem foreign when Pippin’s treble voice filled the room, and Merry shushed him gently as they both sat cross-legged upon Frodo's bed, keeping watch as he rested. Even the strange, sharp smells of healing herbs and odd medicinal concoctions seemed familiar and comforting as he listened to the quiet, earthy voice of his Samwise talking with his Uncle Bilbo, speaking of more things that made up home. Even Gandalf, silently puffing on his pipe, filling the room with the smell of pipeweed, he too was home.

And now, a newer piece of home, with tough but infinitely gentle hands smoothing back his hair to feel his brow - Aragorn too was now home. He tried to open his eyes to see his home all around him, faces he knew would be gentle with concern and love - but lifting his lashes more than a flutter was just more work than he had the energy for. He tried to make his voice speak, to say, "thank you for being my home", but he couldn't seem to make it work beyond a soft whimper that brought a caress to his cheek. One day he would tell them all, but for now, he allowed himself to drift. They would be here when he surfaced again, he knew that. Home never went away, not real home. Real home was here. Or there. Or somewhere. Where ever they were. That was home. Where they were, home and shelter.