Ed’ledhron (Exile)

Inspired by the song “Exile” by Enya on her Watermark CD

*~*~*

Cold as the northern winds,

In December mornings.

Cold is the cry that rings

From this far distant shore.

Winter has come too late

Too close beside me.

How can I chase away

All these fears deep inside?

My light shall be the moon

And my path – the ocean.

My guide the morning star

As I sail home to you.

*~*~*

I stand at the shore, staring out across the sea towards the east, where, far across the tumultuous waters, my homeland lies, continuing on without me.

On days like today the pain is hardly worth bearing. It is winters that hit me hardest. The bleakness of the weather, even here in the muted elements of the Undying Lands, seeps into my heart and it feels as though all I’ve tried to accomplish, all everyone else has tried to do for me, has been for naught.

It is days like these that I wish I could sail home, back to my land, my home, and my family, or what is left of it. But I cannot. I know my home is no longer in this earth. But where it truly is, I do not know.

I feel exiled here; one small hobbit amongst Elves and Wizards so much bigger and wiser than I.

My heart feels cold in my chest: icy and painful. I gaze up at the moon above me, glowing on the dark ocean, and feel a longing in my heart for… for something, anything. I don’t know what it is I long for, but I know I must find it.

It is no longer the Ring I desire. That has passed, thanks to the skills of the Elves. But it has left me in despair and confusion. I had longed for it for so long that now I do not know what else there is to long for. And yet, the longing is there for that which is still name-less and face-less.

Sam isn’t here, and I am sure it would help to have him here. Bilbo is here, but he is so happy and content with his Elf friends. I do not want to dampen his spirits with my problems.

It seems as though everything I had thought I desired has been taken away from me to leave me open to this one great, overwhelming need.

I sink to my knees in anguish, despair overtaking me for a moment.

*Who, then, can warm my soul? Who can quell my passion?  

The answer lies somewhere outside myself, that much is certain. But where to look, what to do… I just don’t know.

I am weary from all these quests and searches. Bronwe athar harthad, they said of Sam and I in Middle Earth, endurance beyond hope. But my endurance and hope has worn dangerously thin. I have nothing left to give to another quest.

I can go no further on my own. I need Someone else. Someone who can save me from this new darkness that seeks to consume me.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and look up to see Lord Elrond standing behind me.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asks, smiling gently at me.

I shake my head, focusing my eyes on the grass beneath me.

“You are troubled, Frodo,” Elrond states, kneeling at my side.

I nod. “There is nothing for me, I am nothing,” I shrug, wiping futilely at the tears starting to flow from my eyes. “I am empty, lost, weary…” My legs give out on me as I say this last, as if to endorse the sentiment, and I clumsily flop down on the ground, steadying myself with my hands.

Elrond clicks his tongue in thought, then says, “You are wrong.”

I glance up at him, confused, but too exhausted to argue.

“Yes, you are lost, and weary, and empty,” he begins. “You are empty for a purpose: so you can be filled again. Once you are, you will no longer be lost and have no need to be weary. You were meant to live life to the fullest again, Frodo.”

I frown, unsure what he means.

“Iluvitar has long been waiting to bring you to this point, Frodo,” Elrond continues, placing a hand on my shoulder. “When you are ready to run to him, he will fill you with himself.”

I blink, feeling a panic rising in my chest. “With himself?” I state. “Elrond, I can’t…”

The Elf lord chuckles. “No, Frodo. This is different from the Ring’s possession. If you trust him, he will not only fill you with himself, but he will reveal your purpose to you, and will help you to live again.”

“My purpose?” I echo.

Elrond nods.

“I’m not ready, Elrond, I can’t,” I say, shaking my head uncertainly.

“I understand,” he responds.

“I’m too frightened,” I admit.

“You needn’t be. Iluvitar will not harm you. He wants you to be his child, he will help you trust him.”

We sit for a moment longer, then the Elf lord rises and leaves just as silently as he had come.

I glance up at the moon, then back across the ocean. To find my purpose, to live again, and to find the object of my longing heart… I cannot go on as I am, or I will die.

Oh, Iluvitar, save me!

~Finis~

* Line from Exile by Enya.