Chapter 39: Do You Remember the Shire?

When the morning came, Frodo looked little rested. His hand had grasped the Ring during the night and remained firmly clenched around it. Sam knew he had been troubled further by dark dreams. When he had been awakened by his master’s murmurs, he had tried to calm them by very softly singing. It had soothed Frodo enough to fall back into sleep.

They had started out again with a small ration of lembas and only enough water to damp their throats.

Sam kept his eye on Frodo throughout the day as the Ring-bearer’s head remained bowed and he stumbled more than once in his fatigue.

Sam caught him and held his arm to support him. “Come on, dear,” he said in the early afternoon. “Just a few more steps and we can rest behind those rocks there, see them?”

Frodo raised his head or tried to. “I’m sorry, Sam. It’s too much. Just lead me to them, will you, please?”

Sam’s grip tightened around his brother’s arm as Frodo stumbled along, then collapsed as they came to the large boulders. Sam sat down next to him and wrapped his arm around the Ring-bearer's shoulders. “Just rest here a bit, dear. It’s almost over. We’re almost at the fire...”

“I can feel it,” Frodo said as he dropped his head against Sam. “I’ve felt it for months now, burning me.”

Sam’s heart ached. “Then you know we are also almost ready to go home.”

“Home, Sam?” he asked wearily. “I don’t even remember what that is anymore.”

Sam smiled bravely and hoped it showed in his voice since his master couldn’t raise his head enough to see it. “Then let me tell you, dear. It’s feather pillows and soft blankets. It’s tea and a pipe by the fire. It’s a pint at the Green Dragon. It’s walking through the fields, the grass so soft under your feet. It’s reading your favorite book with your back against your favorite tree. It’s all the mushrooms you could ever want.”

Sam hoped all that would have elicited a smile from his beloved brother, but all Frodo said was, “I wish I could remember.”