Chapter 16: The Choice

The time Sam had dreaded came far too soon when his master would again carry all the cares of the world around his neck. The evening before they were going to sit out, Elrond came to the room and brought out a small black box. Frodo looked at it fearfully and then as the Elf lord opened the box, the Ring-bearer understood why Bilbo had been purposely kept away that evening, something that had hurt the younger hobbit until his eyes fixed on the Ring shining in the lamplight, laying on its chain in the box so seemingly innocent.

The breath caught in the Ring-bearer’s throat and he looked at it with mixed dread and longing. Already he had heard its whispers. He didn’t think there was ever a time he hadn’t, but for weeks it had been distant and easy enough to fight off. Now, though, now... Sam, Merry, Pippin all waited with held breaths, Elrond regarded him gravely, as their friend steeled himself against it and then reached to put the Ring back around his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment to readjust himself to the burden and when he opened them again, Sam’s heart broke to see the change in his beloved master. The light that had shone so brightly from him the past weeks was still there, but muted, and Frodo’s head was slightly bowed under the great weight. Merry and Pippin looked on gravely, nearly in tears. The tween blindly sought out his cousin’s hand and Merry held it tightly.

It had been almost possible to forget the danger outside, but Sam never had and he didn’t think his master had either, happy as he had been the last weeks. Now it was impossible to ignore. They spent a very sober last evening together. Frodo did not see Bilbo except at the very end for a last, long embrace, which they both spent in tears and in trying to comfort each other.

It was very reluctantly that Sam gently shook Frodo’s shoulder the next morning to wake him. “Time to wake up, dear,” he said softly.

Frodo woke abruptly, almost fearfully, the last wisps of an evil dream leaving his eyes. He looked at Sam who smiled bravely. “Time to get going again.”

Frodo nodded. “I wish we could stay here forever,” he murmured.

“So do I, dear, but I think I’ll take my own bed over even this.”

“So would I,” Frodo said distantly.

When they had all eaten and each been given a supply of lembas bread, Elven cloaks and other material to help them on their journey, the reformed Fellowship, including Boromir, stood arrayed in the courtyard with Bilbo, Arwen, Elrond and many of the other Elves of the household. They all looked at Frodo with love, support and sympathy. Arwen and Bilbo smiled, the latter through his tears which fell unnoticed down his aged cheeks.

Arwen leaned down and kissed Frodo’s cheek. “Our hopes and prayers go with you,” she said. “May the Valar protect you along your way and Iluvatar bring you home safe.”

“Thank you, my queen,” Frodo murmured.

Arwen smiled again. She looked at her husband and he at her for a long moment, then they left without speaking, their goodbyes said only in their minds.

Frodo gave his uncle a last look.  Bilbo raised his hand in farewell, then Frodo turned away with the other out of the courtyard.

The Fellowship looked up at the snow-capped mountain.

“Cruel Caradhras,” Gimli said.

“It will be even more cruel now,” Gandalf said, watching as clouds burdened with snow swept in to hide the top of the peaks. “And the mines will be no less dangerous. Saruman has us trapped well.”

The wizard turned to Frodo who looked up at him worriedly. “Which way, Frodo, do you think we should take? It is a evil choice, either direction.”

“I don’t know, Gandalf. I know we must go forward, but I chose wrongly before and you were lost. I could not bear to choose wrongly again.”

“Rohan would welcome us,” Boromir said, but he knew the answer to that even before the words were out of his mouth.

“So would Isengard,” Aragorn said. “There is truly no good choice.”

“Do not fear to make the wrong choice, tithen min,” Legolas said gently as he put his hand on the frightened Ring-bearer’s shoulder. “We will follow you and guard you where ever you go.”

“And do not fear to lose me again,” Gandalf said. “Better me than you. You are the one that must survive. That is what you must base your decision on.”

Frodo nodded. He looked to the mountain, then to the faces of his friends and kin. Inside him, the Ring clamored for attention, but he tried to close its whispers from his mind. He knew he could not listen to its counsels. But no way seemed right. He saw disaster no matter where he put his steps.

“I don’t know,” he said miserably. He looked and sounded to be on the brink of tears. It was too much, it was all too much. “I don’t want to choose. Please don’t make me.”

Gandalf and the others looked at him sympathetically. Merry put his arm around his cousin and Frodo leaned against him. As the company stood, a cold wind whipped around their cloaks and they shivered in the chill air. Far, far above them soared it seemed a speck of a bird of some sort and Frodo trembled as he felt the Ring respond to it. It was no bird. The small hobbit, invisible to any so far up, suddenly felt very visible and exposed. He clutched at his clothing and closed his fist protectively around the Ring. He wanted to do nothing but shrink into the ground and hide, nearly unwilling to even breathe.

“The mines,” Frodo said in a near whisper. “We will take to the mines.”

Gandalf nodded. Legolas squeezed his shoulder. Neither had missed the ‘bird’ either, nor had Aragorn, but the others had not noticed. Merry took Frodo’s hand. They started onward again.

The fell beast veered off and Frodo breathed a little better as the constriction around his chest eased.

“Did I choose right, Merry?”

The younger hobbit looked at his cousin sympathetically. Frodo regarded him fearfully, in desperate need of reassurance that Merry didn’t know if he knew how to give. He let go of Frodo’s hand and put his arm around his shoulder and pulled him close as they traveled on. It helped more than words.