Sam entered the house to find Frodo lying on the couch, fast asleep. Sam knelt by his side, and held his hand. The hobbit stirred in his sleep and ran his other hand through his slightly greying curls. Sam knew that what Mel had told him was true. Frodo was slowly dying. It had only been within the last two years that Frodo had begun to age, and even then it had been slow. His face was very much the same as it had been on his thirty-third birthday, when he had received the Ring. Only his hair indicated that he was any older. Between the influence of the Elven country and the pull of the Ring, it had caused him to age very unnaturally, as they would say in the Shire. That was also the reason Bilbo had lived so much longer than they had expected he would.

Frodo turned over, moaned in his sleep, and Sam shook him gently, happy as always to not have to worry about hurting his shoulder. Frodo opened his eyes and smiled up at his friend. “You’re back. Where did you run off to, Sam?”

“Just out to town,” he said. He didn’t want Frodo to know he was worried about him.

Frodo smiled. “Picking up something to eat, I hope,” he said softly. “I’m starting to get a little hungry.”

“You’d better be. You haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he replied. “We’ve got plenty of mushrooms, all kinds. Do you want some?”

“That would be nice, thank you, Sam,” Frodo said, holding his right hand to his forehead.

Sam hurried to bring Frodo the bowl of mushrooms from the kitchen. He then sat down beside the coush again. Frodo began to eat slowly.

“I’ll be all right, Sam,” Frodo said, seeing that Sam was watching him anxiously.

“I know,” Sam said. “I know.”

When Frodo finished, he handed the bowl back to Sam, still half full. There was a knock on the door, and Frodo attempted to get up to answer it, but Sam gently pushed him back down, and answered the door himself.

Galadriel, Gandalf, Elrond, Meldamiriel, and Shadowfax entered the house. Frodo made an effort to push himself up. Sam saw his arms trembling in exhaustion, and hurried to help him.

Shadowfax whickered and nuzzled the top of his head that hadn’t turned silvery yet. Frodo reached up and pet his soft muzzle.

Mel sat down at his side as Sam rushed around to get pillows for everyone to sit on.

“I’ll miss you, Iorhael,” she said, and held his outstretched hand.

“I’ll miss you as well, Melda,” Frodo replied, resting his head on her shoulder. Then he turned to Gandalf, and asked, “Will any of my friends in Middle-earth know I’m gone?”

Gandalf nodded. “Just as you knew when Merry and Pippin passed.”

“And now I get to see them all again,” Frodo said, smiling softly.

Gandalf nodded, a lone tear in his eyes. He was happy for his friend, being allowed to leave this world in peace.

Frodo turned to the other Elves. They had been his close friends for years, and now he was leaving and not coming back. He would never see them again. “I don’t know what to say to you,” he said. “I will miss all of you.”

“Go in peace, Frodo Baggins,” Galadriel said. “The Elves will never forget you.”

Frodo smiled slightly, then turned to Sam. “I will see you again,” he said. He reached up and wiped a tear from Sam’s cheek. “Don’t cry, dear. You’ll be coming soon.”

Sam nodded.

Mel turned to him and said, “Frodo, why can’t you stay?”

Frodo gazed at her a moment, then said, “I would stay if I could. But my family is expecting me, and they would be very upset if I didn’t come.”

Elrond glanced at his young niece, knowing that this was hard for her to understand. He made hjmself a mental note to speak to her later.

Frodo lifted her hand and kissed it. She smiled at him, tears in her eyes, then rose to stand by Gandalf. Sam then took his place by his master’s side, and remained there throughout the night, as the unearthly Elven farewell songs began.