Hero

“Frodo undertook his quest out of love—to save the world he knew from disaster at his own expense, if he could; and also in complete humility, acknowledging that he was wholly inadequate to the task. His real contract was only to do what he could, to try to find a way, and to go as far on the road as his strength of mind and body allowed. He did that.” ~Letter #246, Letters of JRR Tolkien

"Did you know Gandalf?"

"Know what, my dear hobbit?"

Frodo and Gandalf were sitting without worry in quiet companionship besides each other at the top circle of the Citadel watching the sun set to the West. The gentle wind of the fast approaching night gave a serene and comfortable atmosphere. Tonight would be their last night at Minas Tirith before they would depart with the company towards Rohan and the Shire.

Frodo's blue eyes showed a melancholy glint which shadowed his clear eyes as he hesitantly asked the question that he was meaning to ask Gandalf ever since the day he had awakened at the Cormallen fields.

"Did you know that I was not going to... to... throw it into the fire?" Frodo mumbled his last words, heart ashamed to remember, ashamed to acknowledge what he could not do. He turned away from Gandalf, trying to retain his calm composure while once again he was haunted by the memory of his words and actions at the Cracks of Doom. He shivered in recollection, once again feeling disgusted by his inability to get rid of the one thing that had burdened him for so long. Why had he been so foolish when it had counted the most?

Tenderly, Gandalf put his hand on Frodo's shoulder, gently turned Frodo’s head so his eyes could look deeply into Frodo's troubled and anguished blue ones.

Slowly he replied, "My brave hobbit, you did what no ordinary person of Middle-Earth could do and to travel into the heart of the enemy's domain and to achieve what you have done is more than anyone could have wished for. It has always been known that this Quest was a 'fool's hope' and no one had ever even imagined that you could have succeeded in bringing it so far. But you did succeed, and now you are alive. There are other forces and plans that Iluvatar has intended and you cannot blame yourself for not completely following through with the original intention for no one could... have been expected to see through it entirely,” Gandalf finished quite hesitatingly.

An unconvinced hobbit looked back at him with eyes full of tears.

"But if you had known that no one could've achieved this feat then why would anyone suspect that I could? Why must I live with the guilt of failing? Of still desiring that trinket even though it almost led me to madness? I failed, Gandalf… and there indeed are scars that will never heal. There are things that cannot be undone and I have to live with the guilt of failing at the Cracks of Doom for the rest of my life," Frodo said bitterly. “Did the wise ones know this? Is this my sacrifice?” He looked away from Gandalf, resentfully wishing that perhaps none of this had happened to him. Why him? Why, if it had been a fool’s hope, he had been chosen? Why was he allowed to fail?

Gandalf saw Frodo’s eyes still worn from fatigue, sorrow and guilt. Heart filled with pity for Frodo, Gandalf’s eyebrows knitted in worry, his face looked careworn. The passing of the events of the War of the Ring had affected him, physically and emotionally s well. His task was done. But the power of Narya would be gradually fading. The legacy of what he had done would be duly noted by Iluvatar but…. his hobbits had to be safe and whole before he could think to return.

Gandalf placed his hand on Frodo’s shoulder and gently turning Frodo’s head towards his. Then, he softly said, "You did not fail, Frodo. I did have an innate feeling that if you could not find the way, no one can. I do beg for your forgiveness of the danger you have had to endure through. I had been dreadfully anxious all this time and have guilt that will not be entirely absolved within me, but hobbits are known to be the only creatures in Middle-Earth able to endure the evils of the Ring. For the evil and egregious memories retained, I hope that there may be peace for you eventually."

He continued sadly yet steadily, "I've always thought that you are the best hobbit of the Shire, Frodo—you have an Elvish air and wisdom that only few in the Shire or of Middle-Earth possess. Your wisdom, heart and pity helped you in achieving these ends. No other creature in Middle-Earth could think of going through the trials that you have been through and succeed. Feats like letting Gollum live, enduring through the pain and despair of sustaining a Morgul wound, of being able to rebound in Cirith Ungol and lead forth towards Mount Doom--- Frodo my dearest lad, no one can imagine anyone who could endure as much as you and come away still being alive.” Gandalf paused for a moment, not knowing how to proceed. Gandalf noted Frodo’s actions and inactions in the time they had spent in Minas Tirith. The shadows of worry and quietness of the hobbit had been subtle, but Gandalf had noted how he acted towards his cousins and the instances when he was by himself. Frodo’s cries from nightmares were concealed from Sam and his cousins, intent of not letting anyone worry.

Gandalf went on, “I know how it pains you to still harbor the horrible memories of this Quest and it troubled me greatly also all these years as well, but time will be necessary to find peace. Frodo, listen to me. You did not fail.”

“But it was ultimately not me who let Gollum live… there are others that can be credited for that action. Bilbo did not kill him. If one is to say that I succeeded because of my mercy and pity to Gollum, it is not me who did it first. And I do not know if peace is my road to have. The Ring… Cirith Ungol… The nightmares are still so vividly horrible…” Frodo’s voice drifted as he looked away from Gandalf’s concerned glance. “He drew his knees upon his chest, put his face upon his knees, and looked straight towards the west… towards home.

Why had he been chosen if it was known there would be big possibility of failure at the bitter end? His thoughts went back to these questions that he had inquired about one spring morning seemingly in another age, in another time. He would never completely understand his fate, and he doubted the fact that no one could have done better than he. But he would not inflict this upon any of his kinsmen or fellow hobbits.

But why had it happened in his time? Why had he even been rescued and not been allowed to die? Why---

“Frodo, my dearest mellon nin. Do not doubt your courage and your morality. The Ring twists your thoughts, you did not claim it but It claimed you in the end. Therefore, it is not your fault. You did not fail nor had it been wholly unexpected that anyone could’ve succeeded. You came the furthest and had the best intentions, and that is good enough for Middle-Earth.”

Frodo shook his head, tears threatening to spill from his blue eyes. He was angry at himself, at Gandalf, and also not sure if speaking to Gandalf was such a good idea. “Gandalf, you still do not understand. It is not the matter of me going as far as I could, it is plainly the reality that I could not do what the Council appointed me to do. The worst part is,” Frodo lowered his voice in shame, “is retaining thoughts of that vile trinket …it … it…is abominable to me. I am not myself anymore, Gandalf. I’m afraid that nothing will ever be the same again.”

Frodo was involuntarily stroking the Evenstar that Arwen had given him. He was shaking now, in self-loathing, in the guilt his heart felt so keenly. Tears gathered anew in his eyes. "Perhaps I can find rest in the Shire..." he murmured softly. “I really hope to, though Arwen’s words seem to portend that it will take a lot of time…or another fate…”

"I do sincerely hope that you will, my dear hobbit," Gandalf placed his arm around Frodo. Frodo’s downcast eyes pierced Gandalf’s heart and he felt his own eyes tear up in knowing at what costs the Quest had succeeded in.

“You must not tell the others, Gandalf. Sam, Merry and Pippin have already fought their own battles, and I cannot burden them with my own …my own shortcomings and ill thoughts of myself. Please, Gandalf?” Frodo’s pleading, blue eyes mesmerized the wizard into acquiescing with a nod.

I would think they would figure out themselves, thought Gandalf to himself. I do hope going back to the Shire, back to familiarity and what he loves will save him from the evilness that this Quest has brought. It is too early to think that he could not heal in his own homeland…

“Do not burden yourself so much with these thoughts, dear hobbit. Know that you are safe, that you are loved and respected by all of Gondor and the free peoples of Middle-Earth for what you have done, for what you did accomplish. Though you cannot feel the magnitude of what you have done or feel it wrongly attributed, to all your friends, you are a hero. A hero, Frodo.” Gandalf held onto Frodo’s arm, trying to will him to understand this point, hoping to get through to a most stubborn hobbit.

Frodo shook his head, once again turning away from the wizard. He was frustrated that Gandalf was praising him, not agreeing with his notions about himself. “But I have done nothing, Gandalf. I did not achieve anything worth singing or praising about. If there should be credit given, it should be given to Sam. For Sam did everything I could not during those evil times on the plains of Gorgoroth. He did not fail by my side and I do not know what I could have done without him. Dear Samwise. And knowing his dear heart, he did not at one time, feel the pull of the Ring that I had when he had the evil trinket in his possession for a day…” Frodo’s voice drifted.

Gandalf’s voice rose, “You do not know what he felt during his time with the Ring but please remember that he did not have it as long as you did as well. Hopefully with time, you will know your worth to all of us, Frodo. Please do not continue to berate yourself and critique yourself on your shortcomings, but remember that you are the one who volunteered and carried this evil thing that none of the wise had the courage to take; you were the one who carried it as far as you did, and you were the one who gave Smeagol, pity, in which I would safely tell you that all others would have killed him on the spot. Frodo, these are the actions that you should be proud of. This knowledge should comfort you.” He wrapped the hobbit in his arms, trying to make him see that his worth was more to him than that of the Shire, that Frodo must not put it upon himself to grieve so much of a Quest that had succeeded in the end no matter the means of how it had been achieved.

Frodo was too exhausted to answer properly. His admission of what he had felt and the question that haunted him were answered. This conversation had tired him out emotionally and physically.

But he could not guarantee that he could be healed. Hadn’t Arwen’s conversation with him an affirmation of a possibility of leaving Middle-Earth? He leaned his head upon Gandalf’s shoulder; tears fell freely from his eyes now and he had no words to counteract what Gandalf had said.

“Dear Frodo,” Gandalf held closely onto Frodo. “Keep up your hobbity courage. The worst is over.”

Perhaps time is what he needed… but guilt and sorrow still felt oppressive like how the air was in Minas Morgul, like the atmosphere of that of the spider’s Lair. Minas Tirith had been welcoming and relaxing but he needed to be back to Bilbo, back to the Shire,. But there was wisdom in Gandalf’s words—he just needed to be back home, back to his beloved Shire. Perhaps, maybe there was some grain of truth in Gandalf’s words.

Involuntarily, he found himself holding onto Arwen’s jewel. Frodo looked towards the horizon as a gust of warm spring air blew across his face. He felt comfortable in Gandalf’s company, somewhat comforted at the moment. In quiet companionship, they watched the sun set into the west

~fin~

A/N: Written for Iorhael and betaed by Lily_the_hobbit.