THE PATH TO HEALING

Chapter 2  -- Along the Shore

Then he heard a noise in the distance. At first he thought it was a great wind coming over the leaves of the forest. Then he knew that it was not leaves, but the sound of the Sea far-off; a sound he had never heard in waking life, though it had often troubled his dreams. ‘A Conspiracy Unmasked’, The Fellowship of the Ring

Frodo wondered why Bilbo hadn’t also been gifted with a dog; however, in those first days on Tol Eressëa, he began to understand that Bilbo’s days of “adventuring” were apparently at an end. As in Rivendell, Bilbo seemed perfectly content to sit and think, compose poetry, or putter about in the kitchen or the gardens. In addition, the thought of meeting firsthand many of the folk of legend about whom he had only read or heard in tales had given Bilbo a whole new source of inspiration. Frodo was grateful beyond words that Bilbo’s time in this beautiful place would be joyous and creative. He and Bilbo met in the kitchen most mornings to breakfast together, then usually went their separate ways until supper.

Frodo had not realized, until awakening on the island, how many years it had truly been since he had felt safe and at peace. From the day Bilbo left the Shire and he became Master of Bag End, the Ring had been part of his consciousness -- even if he had not always been aware of it. And then the Quest had broken him down until there was almost nothing left from which to rebuild, until he finally had sought the only healing journey open to him. Here, in this place, he felt a renewed energy, sense of adventure, and curiosity.

Today, he and Mellon travelled down to the shoreline for the first time, and Frodo was astounded to discover tiny gems and crystals sparkling here and there on the soft, clean sand. He spread the blanket and opened their picnic basket, sharing luncheon with the dog. After a long nap in the sun, he awoke to Mellon gently pawing his arm.

“I’m not ready yet,” Frodo said softly to the dog. “You go ahead.” It had not taken long for him to speak to the intelligent animal as he would anyone else. He watched as Mellon ran into the surf, snapping at the waves and running with delight along the shore. Gazing thoughtfully at the water, Frodo absently fingered a few of the glittering crystals he had gathered.

“Long ago, the Elves scattered gems of Valinor here,” came a soft voice from behind him. “They wished the land to reflect Varda’s stars as easily as does the Sea.”

“Hello, Gandalf,” Frodo smiled up at the Maia.

“Good afternoon, my friend,” Gandalf said, settling himself on the blanket. “Do you not wish to join Mellon in the water?”

“I do, but...” Frodo hesitated. “Gandalf, I have been meaning to ask... is there truly someone out there?”

“What you do mean?”

“Ulmo is Lord of the waters. Does he live there? Is he down below somewhere, sitting and watching everything?”

“Not precisely,” Gandalf chuckled. He lay a gentle hand on Frodo’s shoulder. “Do you know that my hand is touching your shoulder?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I feel it. I see it.”

“And the wind... Do you feel that on your face? And hear the gulls, and the waves crashing to shore? Do you smell the freshness of the Sea, feel the warmth of the sun on your skin?” Frodo nodded. “As you sit here, Frodo, you are aware of many things outside your own body. Your senses bring you sounds, images, smells, touch, fragrances... You can also sense the emotions and thoughts of those dear to you, and communicate in many ways not always dependent upon words. Thus it is with Ulmo.” Gandalf thought for a moment. “His presence is vast, and his senses far reaching. All that occurs within and around the waters – the Sea, lakes, rivers, the smallest spring or fountain – are known to him. He is attuned to the pulse of Arda through its waters, using his senses -- much as you do.”

Frodo was silent for a moment, pondering this.

“If I enter the Sea and... am frightened, will he know this? Will he care?”

“Frodo, the Valar care deeply for you, else you and Bilbo would not have been permitted to traverse the Straight Road and dwell here. Manwë himself put aside the ancient ban, and did not Irmo and Estë ease your transition?”

“They did,” Frodo said gratefully.

“Do you remember what Lady Arwen said to you? She foretold that here, all your wounds and weariness would be healed.”

“I remember,” Frodo said quietly, “although I have been wondering how that might occur.” He watched Mellon frolic in the surf. “One old wound has already been healed. To think that I would ever come to love and trust a dog...” He shook his head in amazement.

"One step at a time, dear boy."

“I do not wish to be afraid any longer, Gandalf,” Frodo said fervently. "I have not truly enjoyed swimming since I was a small child. Whenever I am underwater, I think of my parents, and how they died.”

"The moment you – or anyone – enter or honor his waters, Lord Ulmo is aware of it. But it is not he to whom you need look for help in this matter, should you need it." Gandalf gazed steadily at Frodo. “You may be ready to confront this fear; why not let your new guardian and friend bring you to the next level of healing?”

“The next level?”

“As Galadriel told you, Mellon will allow no harm to come to you. If you were in distress in the water, do you not think she would come to your aid?”

“Yes, I do.”

“At each stage of your journey, Frodo, help will be available; the choice is always yours whether or not to take it. Your road has been long, and your burdens heavy... but you have not been without aid, or love along the way.”

Frodo nodded slowly.  “When I needed a home and future, Bilbo took me in. Aragorn was there for us in Bree, and at Weathertop. Tom Bombadil, Lord Elrond, Faramir... Sam...” His eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Even now...”

“Even now." Gandalf smiled and got to his feet, then continued on down the beach.

Frodo sat for awhile after Gandalf had gone, thinking about everything his friend had said. The next level... For the first time, he began to realize the path his healing would take here in the West. It would be a process, one step at a time. He would heal at the pace he, himself, chose, and would not be alone. The long, gentle years he would spend here spread before Frodo in a new way, brighter and more far-reaching than he had imagined. He would be whole – every dark place in his heart, mind, and spirit whole and truly healed... and the process had already begun.

With a whoop of joy, he leaped to his feet and called to Mellon, who came bounding to his side, shaking water from her coat.

“Silly thing,” Frodo laughed, reaching up to give the dog a hug. “You always greet Gandalf when he comes to see us, but not this time. Did you...” He stared at the dog suddenly. “Did you know he and I needed to talk, and deliberately stay away?” Mellon almost seemed to be grinning, her tail wagging furiously. “You understand, don’t you?” Frodo asked, stroking the dog’s thick fur. He gazed at the sparkling water, and Mellon turned to look, as well, her gaze peaceful and appreciative.

“Next time we come,” Frodo whispered to the Sea, and to himself, “I’ll be ready.” He gathered up the blanket and picnic basket. “Let’s head home, girl," he said to Mellon. "The sun is beginning to set, and Bilbo will be waiting.”

Mellon lay down, and Frodo set the light blanket over the dog’s back. Balancing the basket in front of him, he sat astride the enormous dog, who rose to her feet.

“I need a bath,” Frodo grinned, shaking the sand from his hair. “And I’ll give you a good brushing tonight, while we watch the stars.”

Mellon began to walk slowly. It would be fun to go faster, Frodo thought, wondering how keen the dog’s senses truly were. To his delight, Mellon -- either in response to his friend’s wish for speed, or her own -- began to trot briskly along the white shore.

As they travelled, Frodo let fall the sparkling gems, one by one -- returning them to the sand.  He was unaware of the small gathering of Elves, watching quietly from the bluff overlooking the beach.

** TBC **