Chapter 51: The Hallow of Eru

Frodo silently looked at his beloved guardian for a long time, thinking of what Sam had just said and losing himself in all the love and compassion that shone from those dear eyes. Sam smiled at him, then finished wrapping his hand and kissed it.

"Thank you, Sam," Frodo said. "For everything."

After he changed into his nightshirt and Sam tucked him in, Frodo spoke again. "You realize, dearheart, that if you keep insisting that I’m a hero, I may have to have Aragorn issue that proclamation after all."

Sam smiled. "Then I’ll keep the minstrels singing their songs also. All those coins they keep tossing at us have to be put to good use somehow, don’t they?"

Frodo groaned. "Goodnight, Sam."

Sam smiled and leaned down to kiss his brother’s brow. "Good night, dear. Sleep well. I love you."

"I love you, too, Sam. Thank you."

Sam watched his dearest friend sleep, marveling at the soft glow from within him. Dark dreams later troubled the Ring-bearer, and he woke crying out, but he spoke of them to no one, even though Sam, Merry and Pippin all tried to comfort him.

The next morning, after they had had breakfast in the room the four shared, Merry and Pippin left for their duties with their respective lords. Frodo watched them with a fond smile.

"I’m so proud of them," he told Sam.

"They have certainly grown up," the gardener agreed, glad to see that smile.

Frodo laughed and Sam’s heart soared. "In more ways than one!"

"I’m going to see Aragorn this morning, Sam," the elder hobbit said after they had eaten a little more.

Sam’s head shot up, remembering their talk the night before.

"No, not about that, dearheart," Frodo assured. He looked down at his bowl of thin oatmeal, all his and Sam’s stomach were capable of accepting at the moment, and the cup of peppermint tea beside it. How he looked forward to larger, hobbit-sized meals again! How he looked forward to going home, going to sleep in his own bed, eating in his own kitchen, reading in his own chair, drinking out of his own mug! Was any of that possible again? Could he go home?

"He’s helped me deal with the pain already and I need to visit him again," he explained. "I so want to go home, but I’m...I’m not strong enough to be on my own yet."

The young hobbit looked at his brother and thought of all the things Frodo wasn’t saying. He took his maimed hand in his own. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.

Frodo looked up at his beloved guardian and squeezed his hand. "Yes, Sam, I would."

So began the first of many days that Frodo visited the king’s private chamber, searching for peace. That first day the two little figures were a curiosity, standing so quietly and patiently in the corner of a large room filled with courtiers, like children who had gotten lost in the great palace. They became uncomfortably aware of the whispers about them and Frodo almost left that first day without speaking to Aragorn. The king was talking with several of his ministers and the Ring-bearer turned to leave, but Aragorn called out to him.

"You’re busy," Frodo said. "I’ll come back later."

"No, gwador nin," the king said. He had nodded to his senior minister to continue the negotiations he had been engaged in and nodding also to Sam, had taken the elder hobbit by the shoulder and guided him into the private rooms, leaving his guardian standing outside. The whispers became murmurs and Sam shifted uncomfortably, staring at his feet.

After a long while, Aragorn and Frodo reappeared and the murmurs abruptly ceased, but not soon enough for the king not to have noticed them. He put his hands on the shoulders of the hobbits. "These are my brothers," he said. "The most honored in the entire kingdom. You will treat them as you treat me as they are closer to my heart than any save my queen."

Sam blushed furiously and Frodo looked down uncomfortably, but the whispers stopped and did not come again.

So it came to be each day the hobbits came, sometimes in the morning, if Frodo’s sleep had been troubled, or in the afternoon, if the night had been kinder. The Ring-bearer’s eyes would be fixed on the king from the moment he walked in and he’d wait quietly to be noticed. Sometimes, those eyes would be bright with barely held back tears. When that happened, Sam’s would be also. The king would always immediately break off what he had been doing, sometimes in mid-sentence, and his minsters grew used to seeing them and smoothly taking over whatever the king had been engaged in while their sire became healer instead. When tears threatened to spill over, Aragorn also had some quiet words with Sam also and the gardener always felt better after them.

He was glad his brother had someone to talk to, besides himself and his cousins. Frodo always came out looking more peaceful, but Aragorn and everyone else remained concerned about his depression that the hobbit would beat back then be overwhelmed by once more. But Frodo would be smiling when he saw Sam.  He'd take his brother's hand and they’d walk out together and Sam’s heart would be lightened a bit as well until the next bad spell.

One day, a week after the daily visits had begun, Frodo came alone.

"I have some things to show you," Aragorn said and the two walked out of the palace together and to the stables. The king lifted Frodo up on the large charger and swung up behind him.

"Where are we going?" the hobbit asked.

"Some very special places, mellon nin," was all the king said as he hugged Frodo to him and gave the order to gallop out of the city.

The wind against Frodo’s face and the bright sunlight revived his spirits some and he even laughed in delight at the speed of the horse. Aragorn laughed with him. The trip was already worth it.

They traveled for some miles. "This is wonderful, Aragorn, but Sam is going to be worried..."

"Never fear about your faithful guardian. I’ve already told him that I planned to steal you away today."

Frodo craned his neck around. Amusement flickered deep with his eyes. "Did you? And for what purpose?"

"To show you much. Have you been paying attention as we have been going along?" he asked as Frodo turned back around.

"Yes, we’ve passed a few streams, several farms, some large fields that look like Farmer Maggot’s cornstalks that I used to play in and where I used to steal mushrooms..."

Aragorn slowed the horse to a walk. "Very good. What do you all think of that?"

The hobbit frowned, trying to figure out where his friend and king was going with his questioning. "What should I think? Life is continuing on."

"Exactly." He leaned down and spoke directly into his friend’s ear. "Because of you, tithen gwador. You need to see all that to appreciate what you have accomplished."

Frodo turned back around and squinted suspiciously up at the healer king. "Did Sam put you up to this?"

Aragorn laughed. "No, Gandalf did, actually. He thought it would be good for you to see it. You are so focused on what you did wrong, mell min, you have had no energy to expend for thinking of all you did right."

The Ring-bearer sighed and his cheer evaporated. "Maybe because there’s so little of it."

Aragorn stopped the horse. "Are you up to a little hike?"

"I don’t know if I trust you anymore," Frodo said as the king helped him dismount. "If all this is help me feel better..."

"Everything I do is help you feel better, mellon nin," Aragorn said with a smile as he took the troubled hobbit’s hand. "Feel the grass under your feet? Clean and green and alive? Look up, Frodo. See the sunlight? Hear the birds? You did all of this. You and Sam. And it’s like this all over Middle-earth. I wish I could show you it all."

Frodo looked down at the ground. "It’s Sam doing, really. I couldn’t have made it without him. And the Ring got destroyed by accident, both times."

"Nothing happens by accident or hasn’t Gandalf explained the unexplainable to you yet?"

"He told me about how and why I was chosen and that I was the only one and that everything happened as it was supposed to and I fulfilled my role."

"But you don’t believe him?"

"I know I didn’t. I failed again. And it hurts so much, Aragorn. It hurts so much I want to scream."

"Then scream, gwador, scream and cry and rage for all the terrible things done to you. Don’t keep it inside. No one can hear us here. That’s what I did when Legolas, Gimli and I had been chasing after the orcs for three days after they had kidnapped Merry and Pippin the first time only to have Eomer tell us they had probably been killed in the battle the night before."

Frodo looked up at his friend, surprised. "Did you feel better then?"

Aragorn smiled faintly. "A little."

"Maybe I’ll try that sometime. I cry out enough from nightmares. I should be used to it by now."

Aragorn’s heart ached for the bitter humor in his little friend’s voice. They walked on in silence for a little bit, then Frodo spoke again, "After the eagles brought us back, I heard Gandalf tell me that I had a choice, whether to live or die. I don’t know if I made the right one."

Aragorn looked down at his friend and ached for the torment in that voice. What had happened to the hobbit who had laughed in delight to atop a speeding horse? "I think you did."

"I don’t know, I really don’t. The Ring took everything from me. I am nothing but a shell anymore. It emptied me of myself and filled me with nothing but itself. I had to listen to its whispers for months and months as it constantly tried to weaken me. I had to listen as it mocked me when I tried to resist it. I had to listen to its taunts when I gave in. I had to listen to its screams at Mount Doom and I couldn’t resist any longer. I had to listen as it died and it released all its hate and fury. And now it’s gone and I am left and I have so little left of myself to go on with."

"My forefathers of long ago worshiped Iluvatar atop a mountain called Meneltarma. It is said that from that peak one could see the tower of Avalonne and the island of Tol Eressea. The Hallow of Eru the temple there was called and I wished for many long years to have been there to have seen it. But I have come to understand since then that that temple also resides in the hearts of good people everywhere." Aragorn looked at his dear friend. "Even in the heart of one who feels himself empty."

Frodo was silent for a long time, but he was no longer looking at the ground. "I so want to believe you are right," he said quietly. "I have felt it, but I am so unclean now. Who would want to reside in such a defiled place?"

"The One Who never left you, tithen min, and He resides in a place within you that is not as vile as you believe it to be. Your heart and soul have been hurt beyond measure, but not beyond healing. Eru filled you with His Light while you lived in the Shire, though you did not know it. I see it even now. Pray for the strength and courage to believe in that yourself. "

"I do, everyday. Gandalf taught me what to say. Sometimes I almost believe, other times, it’s much too hard to."

"I know. The wounds of the spirit are always harder to heal than those of the body."

Frodo looked up at his friend, hopefully. "But they do heal?"

Aragorn squeezed his hand. "They do heal."

"How? I murdered because of the Ring. I almost killed Sam because of it. Because I was too weak to fight it."

"You are far stronger than you know, Frodo," Aragorn said. "I have praised Iluvatar with thanksgiving everyday for that famous Baggins stubbornness that refused to give up. Don’t give up now. You have given all to fight for others. Now you need to fight for yourself.

"But as to how, I don’t know," the king admitted and Frodo looked up surprised and disappointed. "The path to healing is different for each who travel that way, but the destination is always the same." He knelt and looked into his friend’s tormented eyes. "This I can tell you. Seek out the Light to guide you out of the dark places that the Ring has taken you. And let Iluvatar work through His other children, too. Let Sam and your cousins and all those that love you, help." He embraced his brother. "I have not ceased to pray for you, gwador nin, from the day we met."

"Hannon le," the hobbit murmured as he held on tightly. It was not long before Aragorn noticed that he was crying. Then he threw back his head and screamed as he never had, screamed and raged and sobbed and all the while his friend held him and cried himself and asked inside himself of the One who had made him a healer, why had He made him such if he couldn’t heal the one who most deserved it?

He received his answer when Frodo calmed and looked up at his friend with a very shaky smile. "Hannon le," he said again and Aragorn saw he did look a little less burdened, the Light shining a little brighter through him. The hobbit let go and took his king’s hand again as they started to walk back.

Hannon le, Aragorn sent silently to Iluvatar as he heard Frodo softly praying what Gandalf had taught him and he realized it was the same prayer he that the wizard and his foster father had also taught him. There would be other trials, he well knew, but as he listened, he hoped his troubled friend would never believe he was alone in his struggles.

"I come sick to the Healer of life, unclean to the Fountain of mercy, blind to the radiance of eternal Light, poor and needy to the Lord of heaven and earth. I beg Thee to heal my sickness, wash away my defilement, enlighten my blindness, enrich my poverty, and clothe my nakedness. Purify me from evil ways and put an end to my evil passions. Bring me charity and patience, humility and obedience, and growth in the power to do good. Be my strong defense against all my enemies, visible and invisible, and the perfect calming of all my evil impulses, bodily and spiritual. Unite me more closely to You and lead me safely through death to everlasting happiness with You."

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A/N: Mell min is Sindarin for ‘dear one’. Frodo’s prayer is adapted from two by St. Thomas Aquinas.