~Understanding~

A/N: To Antane, for her birthday. I do hope you enjoy this! I have a chapter of the Latter Days filled with Hobbity-love coming for you as well, but I thought you would like this since I remember you said you like reading stories of Sam and Frodo’s reunion in Valinor. Enjoy! J

Where would I be without Sam? I ask myself that question constantly. I don’t know the answer, though all my suppositions are dark and terrifying. He is everything to me. I doubt I would be alive today if it weren’t for him. But it is all for the best that I am leaving, I suppose. I can’t stand the thought that it hurts him every time I am sick, or every time I can’t eat, or have nightmares I cannot tell him about. I can’t stay. I know he will be angry with me, but I am really doing this for his good. He will understand eventually, I think. I only hope he realizes this will break my heart as much as it will his.

I hold my pen poised above the paper, feeling tears coming to my eyes at this thought. The vastness of the decision is weighing down on me so much so that my shoulder begins to ache. The air seems tight and heavy, and I take a deep staggering breath. The pen touches the parchment, and the letter seems to form itself underneath my hand. I sign my name, free of the usual flourish, and lift the pen to look at it. A tear falls on the page, and I absently dab at it.

Before I can change my mind and throw the letter into the fire, I leap up and rush out the door. The Post Office is not very far from here, and before I know it, I am home sitting in the parlor reading.

Sam enters the smial a few moments later, hangs his cloak up, and then comes to greet me.

“What’s the matter, dearest? Are you all right?” he asks, sitting down beside me.

I look up at him, blinking to keep from crying. “I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired today, that’s all,” I reply, hoping I am not giving anything away. He will be upset when I leave.

He looks at me for a moment, then says, “Rosie’ll be home in a moment. I’m gonna go start dinner.”

I attempt a smile and say, “All right.” And he leaves. Will I ever be able to go through with this, I wonder?

* * *

I stand at the back of the ship, hand raised holding the phial of Galadriel high as we sail away from Middle Earth. For the moment my mind is not thinking of anything, except to memorize my dearest friend’s face so as not to forget it. For some reason, I am not afraid of forgetting Merry and Pippin, as though I know them too well to forget. But it seems as though the one thing the enemy could still take from me is the memory of my best friend.

When they are out of sight, I lower my arm and stand swaying for a moment, suddenly realizing that I’d actually done it. I have left Middle Earth, never to return. Never. The weight of that word brings me to my knees and I collapse on the deck of the ship, leaning against the railings, breathing heavily. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and absently push it away.

“Frodo-lad, are you all right?” Bilbo’s voice sounds worried.

I shake my head, wishing him to leave so he won’t see me crying. I’ve left my home, my family, my brother. Before it felt as though I’d lost so much already, I’d not lose much more by leaving, but now I realize just how much I did have to lose.

“I know it’s hard to leave,” Bilbo says, beginning to gently rub my back. “But Sam will come later, you know that.”

I nod, but I am not sure if I believe it yet.

Gandalf comes up behind us. “Come, Frodo, let’s go inside,” he says as Bilbo helps me rise. I rub my sleeve over my eyes, and follow them in, telling myself Sam will come. He has to. He will come when Rosie dies. When he understands why I left.

* * *

It has been nearly sixty years or so since I last saw my Sam. I can’t recall the exact date, time moves so strangely here in the Undying Lands. He came today, on one of the last ships. When I saw its sails on the horizon, I could hardly contain my nervousness. I wondered if he would really come, or if I had been reading too much into the dreams I’ve been having lately of him arriving. But he was there, wobbling off onto the dock with unsteady sea-legs, looking just about as lost as I felt when I first landed.

I ran to him, and he let out a yelp when he saw me, stumbling to meet me and throw his arms about me.

He looks much the same as he did so many years ago when I left, except that his skin is slightly wrinkled, and his hair is nearly all white.

I felt tears of joy coming to my eyes, and he smiled at me, a big, contented smile. “Oh, Frodo, I missed you so much!” he said, laughing a bit.

“I missed you to, Sam,” I reply, my hand tightening on his arm for a moment.

I think he read the unspoken question in my eyes, for he said, “I understand now why you left.” He shakes his head a moment, as if not believing it. “I realized after Rosie died that here was probably the only place you could go to…” he left off, and I smiled at him.

“To be healed, Sam,” I said, grinning happily. “And I am, now that you are here.”

He had hugged me again, then, and followed me, hand in mine, as I led him to my home.

Now he is asleep. I had fallen asleep earlier this evening, and woke up late into the night to find him asleep beside me. I gaze at his face, peaceful and happy, and know I had done the right thing choosing to leave all those years ago. And my Sam understands now, as I knew he would.

~Finis~