The Sea-flute

by Eruanna

When he had dwelt seven years in the land of the Valar, Bilbo Baggins had all he desired, and his heart was content. So he spoke with his nephew Frodo, and obtained his blessing, and so on the twenty-second of September (by the Shire calendar), when he had reached his one hundred and thirty-ninth year, he passed quietly beyond the circles of the world. Frodo raised a small mound for him in the gardens of Lórien near to their dwelling, and he planted it with the fair alfirin of Aman.

The Elves used to come often to visit him then, fearing that he would be lonely and filled with bitterest grief, but they saw that in the midst of his sorrow his heart was light. So they feared no more for him, and few came so often, for Elves do not think as mortals do. And for long he had few visitors, save only Olórin and the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn, and Master Elrond came often to see him, with Lady Celebrían his wife. And he walked in the gardens of Irmo and worked the small patch around his home with his own hand, and he was content.

Now it became Frodo’s custom to walk at whiles beside the Sea, and often he brought with him flowers from his garden, or some small gifts of similar kind, and cast them upon the waves with thanks to the Lord of Waters, for he remembered ever the stream that had arisen in Mordor when their need was great. Some among the Elves laughed at this, thinking that so great a lord as Ulmo must needs scorn such gifts, but Frodo paid them no heed. He used often to spend many hours sitting in silence upon the shore and listening to the sigh and the murmur of the waves upon the strand, for it seemed to him that there was a music in them, and his heart was kindled with a longing for the source of that song. Olórin sat with him there many times, and they spoke of great things and simple, but more often they were silent and listened to the music of the Great Sea. Many times, too, the Lady Celebrían came there, for those two became great friends, having both suffered much at the hands of Sauron’s orcs and being now of a similar spirit in greatness both of joy and of sorrow. And she of all the Eldar understood him best, unless it were Elrond her husband.

Now Frodo’s voice, which had always been thought good in his own country, grew to be fair after the measure of the Eldar, and many marveled at this. But Celebrían laughed, and she said, ‘Have you not seen the light of Ilúvatar that shines in his face? And does he not hearken almost daily to the waters of Ulmo, which of all substances on earth most recall the Great Music?’ Yet still they wondered, for why a halfling, however renowned, should receive such a gift, they knew not. And though Celebrían held that the Lord of Waters found more favour with the gifts of a simple heart than with much gold or jewels, still there were few who understood this. But she loved to sit on the margin of the sea and to dangle her feet in the water, and there she would bring often a fair harp wrought of silver and pearl, and playing upon this she loved to have him sing. Elrond too was often there, for he loved the sea, though in Middle-earth he had long denied that love and hidden it in his heart, and furthermore he rejoiced ever in the joy and the song of his wife.

But one day Frodo arose early and went out from the house of Elrond, where he was staying for a time, to walk upon the bright strand in the gloaming, bringing with him his gift of blossoms. And as he laid these with reverence upon the waves, he saw beside him on the shore a small flute. Very fair it was, and wrought of sea-coral and pearl, and it lay as though cast up by the sea. Filled with wonder he took it up, and for long stood gazing upon it, then turning to the waves he bowed and said, ‘I thank thee, lord, for this in addition to all thy many good gifts. But now I beg leave to sit and listen awhile to the music of thy waves, ere I attempt any poor melody of my own.’

Then he sat in silence upon the margin of the sea-strand, hearing the murmuring of the waves and the wild sorrowful cries of the wheeling gulls. And his thought was turned to the far-off land of his home, and to those he loved left behind in Middle-earth, but though he sorrowed his heart was filled with no bitterness, and his thoughts were all of joy. He recalled how, in the days after the Travellers returned from the great journey, with much struggle he had taught himself to play upon his father’s old wooden flute with only nine fingers. And he remembered the faces of his cousins, and of Sam and Rose with little Elanor, and he smiled. Then taking up the flute he began to play, and the melody was that of the Sea.

Had any been there to hear, upon the windswept shore in the early morn, he would not have seen the hobbit, small as he was and wrapped in the grey cloak of Lothlórien. But the music would have remained in his heart, a wild sweet longing, ever shifting with the rhythm of the sea, and full hallowed with the wisdom of mingled sorrow and joy. Indeed, there were some who heard his piping from afar off, and there were tales in Valimar, and in Tirion upon Túna, and in the swan-haven of Alqualondë, of the piper by the shore who played his sweet music for Ulmo alone. And if the Lady Celebrían smiled to hear such tales, there were few who wondered at her. And if, when she came with Elrond and the halfling Frodo to sing beside the sea, the sound of a flute was joined with that of her harp, there were seldom any to hear it. But often, on quiet evenings when the stars hung as brilliant jewels in the night’s tresses, or in the early morn when the rising dawn turned the sea all to flushed rose and burnished gold and, rising above the rim of the world, cast its glistening flame upon the waters, wanderers might hear the wild heart-piercing song of the piper by the sea.

It is told that, when Frodo the halfling passed beyond the circles of the world, the flute of sea-coral that he carried with him was laid with gentle reverence upon the lap of the deep by Celebrían wife of Elrond. And still at times, if some lonely wanderer chanced to walk alone upon the eastern strand, he might hear as it were the echo of a fair music, and so find release for his griefs and leave with a light heart.