Chapter Thirty-Seven: Brave Deeds

Oh, my Sam, how very brave you were in the Emyn Muil and during the entire Quest. You went on the River. You gave up bit by bit everything dear to you - your ease, your beloved Bill, your desire to go back home, rest, food, drink, your pots and pans - everything but me. I realize increasingly how futile it is for me to think I could ever make that up to you, but still I stubbornly hold to the slim hope that I will be able to show you somehow. You faced down your fear of water and heights and Black Riders, all to keep me on my Road, our Road. And you made me brave too, far more than I could have been without your help and hope and light beside me as the way grew darker and darker.

How I hated being in those hills! I felt the Eye on me even then and I was loathe to be so exposed to him. We were marching right toward the one place neither of us wanted to be and the terror of that would have been enough to quail the heart of any, but there was nothing for it, we still had to go. That was where our path was laid as you would say. I just wanted it to be over before my will and strength failed. I felt I was in a race and I was so afraid it would be the Ring that would win. I couldn’t let it. I had to hold back all it was doing to me just long enough to get to the Fire. It would be over then. There would be nothing left. All would have been spent.

And all was spent, my Sam. If only you could see me inside, but that I must keep to myself. I try to fill myself with your love, and Merry’s and Pippin’s and Elanor’s and the warm air and the smell of the grass and the flowers and the delicious meals you and Rosie cook to try to entice me to eat better. I walk in the meadows and watch the stars from my bedroom window. I have tried and tried and tried to set my roots back down where they had once been buried so deep, but they have been completely uprooted and will not set down again. I hope they will where I am going. I cannot go on like this, empty. There is such a void that I wonder how it can ever be filled again. I am blind again or near to it in this darkness. But still I can see your light, a lifeline as that bit of Elven rope was, shimmering in the gloom. I see light ahead too, dim but growing, coming from over the Sea. Oh, Sam, to stand in the light again! How I long for that! It has been a terrible grief that no light in Middle-earth, not even yours, is strong enough to hold me here and heal me. The darkness has been too deep.

* * *

Oh, dear, that was some time we had in those terrible hills, wasn’t it? I wish the entire way had been easier for you. I wish the eagles that had taken us out had been able to bring us in, so you wouldn’t have had to suffer what you did. But all the great tales are about suffering and loss and patience and endurance and persevering to the end and we have been in a great one. You have always taught me so much from the day we met and no more than our time together those dreadful months. You gave me quite a turn there when you went over the cliff, trying to find a way down and that storm came up. You were being stubborn in that way that, begging your pardon, used to exasperate me. You just wanted it all and done with but I can’t say now, having wore the Ring a little while myself, that I can blame you. It still amazes me how you could bear it as long as you did. Now it is gone and so are you, but you are not gone too if that makes any sense. You may not be here physically, but you are still very much here. I am realizing that more and more.

I’m glad I could help you a little after I remembered that rope and I was just as glad as you to get out. It was wonderful to hear you laugh, even if it was at my expense and your teasing me about the rope not being tied tight enough. You can believe what you want, but I know it was the Lady helping us. I felt her with us more than once, a counter as could be against the terrible Enemy. Did you ever feel her, my dear, or just him? I hope you did. You needed to more than I did and that’s a fact. And now you do have her and the Moon and the Stars and all those lovely Elvish things that so cheered our hearts when we got a glimpse of them. I’ve looked up at the Stars many times since you’ve left and wonder what ones you are looking at and how the Moon looks. I feel closer to you at night, even though you are so far away. I go walking sometimes through the fields at night, Elanor at times in one arm and I hold out my other hand to you and sometimes I can almost feel your hand in mine. Can you feel mine, dear? One day you will, my love, I promise you, one day you will. I love you so.