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The Path to Healing  by shirebound

Special thanks and hugs for Claudia, for helping me work through a crucial plot-point in this chapter.

THE PATH TO HEALING

Chapter 3  -- Among the Trees

Yavanna spoke before the Valar saying: “The Light of the Trees has passed away, and lives now only in the Silmarils of Fëanor.  Foresighted was he!  Even for those who are mightiest under Ilúvatar there is some work that they may accomplish once, and once only.  The Light of the Trees I brought into being, and within Eä I can do so never again.  Yet had I but a little of that light I could recall life to the Trees, ere their roots decay; and then our hurt should be healed, and the malice of Melkor be confounded.”  ‘Of the Flight of the Noldor’, The Silmarillion


Frodo leaned back comfortably against Mellon.  The glade below the hobbits’ home, where he, Bilbo, Galadriel, and Gandalf were chatting and picnicking, was one of the most peaceful places he had ever known.  Fragrant blossoms dotted the grass, as well as the massive trees encircling them.  He gazed up at a low branch, watching a spider climb a slender thread.

“You have no fear of them?” Galadriel asked curiously.

“Not a hint of it, Lady,” Frodo replied.  “Although my memories of Cirith Ungol are not entirely clear, I don’t believe I ever saw her fully.  I only learned later that it was a spider; there were just eyes in the darkness, and the presence of something truly evil.  It was Sam who fought and wounded her.”

“Well then,” Gandalf chuckled, “there is one less fear to be concerned with.  But physically...”  He peered thoughtfully at Frodo.  “The effects of her wounding remain.”

“Yes,” Frodo agreed.  “I don’t know why I feel so empty and lost on the anniversary of that day.  I scarcely knew what day it was, when Sam and I entered her lair.  She might have infused a measure of darkness into me similar to that done by the Nazgûl’s enspelled blade.” 

“I don’t know why we’re sitting here talking about fears and illnesses,” Bilbo said grumpily, leaning back against the tree.  “I’ve never seen my lad happier.”

“I am happy, Bilbo,” Frodo assured his beloved uncle.  “I know this conversation upsets you, but I wish to know what I can expect.  Lady Arwen said ‘wounds and weariness’ would be healed, and she is the daughter of Lord Elrond – gifted, as he, with foresight and great wisdom; as you are, Lady,” he smiled at Galadriel.  “I’m already feeling so much better since we arrived.  My sleep and dreams are so restful.”

“And you have grown quite fond of this noble beast,” Bilbo chuckled, patting Mellon.

“That is true,” Frodo grinned. “If I have learned to love dogs, I now believe that anything is possible.”  Mellon’s tail thumped slightly, and the great animal looked very pleased.

“Perhaps we can--” Galadriel began, then looked up, her face wreathed in a smile.  Mellon began wagging her tail in earnest.  Following the direction of their gaze, Frodo saw a beautiful Elf woman approaching them.  Galadriel ran to greet their visitor.

Gandalf got to his feet, followed by Frodo and Bilbo.

“Greetings, Olórin,” the Lady said.

Frodo gazed in awe.  He had seen Galadriel’s mother only briefly, when she greeted her daughter upon their arrival.  However, his long, healing sleep had begun soon thereafter, and there had been little chance to greet anyone properly himself.  She seemed ageless to his eyes, with hair as radiantly golden as her daughter’s.  She was barefoot, and wore a pale blue gown embroidered with silver swans.

“Lady Eärwen,” Bilbo said happily, “it is an honor to see you again.”  He fairly bounced with excitement, thrilled to be in the presence of such an ancient and noble Elf.

“Hello, Master Baggins,” Eärwen said in a low, musical voice.  Her Westron was heavily accented, but understandable.  She turned her radiant gaze on Frodo.  “Ringbearer, I have been remiss in not welcoming you to our shores.”

“I am honored, Lady,” Frodo said, bowing low.  “I am at your service.”

“On the contrary, it is we who--”  Eärwen looked somewhat embarrassed.  “May we speak, Ringbearer?  There is something I wish to ask you.”

“Of course,” Frodo said.  “And please, call me Frodo.”  Everyone sat, and Eärwen smiled at the enormous hound.

“She has chosen,” Galadriel explained.  “Frodo named her ‘Mellon’.”  She talked about the dog and her devotion to Frodo, giving Eärwen time to feel comfortable.  She suspected it had been a very long time since her mother had spoken with mortals.

Gandalf and Galadriel exchanged glances, pleased that the wife of Finarfin had come to meet Frodo; indeed, they had ensured that rumor of a certain conversation reached the ears of the Elves, although they knew not who would come to investigate the truth of it.

“Frodo,” Eärwen said at last, “word has reached our people that you made an offer to Olórin.  I wished to meet you, and hear more about it.”

“What you heard is true,” Gandalf said, before Frodo could speak.  “As you may have been told, your daughter captured in a crystal phial the light of the Silmaril that Eärendil wears, and gifted it to Frodo to use in his quest to bring Sauron’s Ring to its destruction.”

“The phial is one of the very few possessions Frodo brought with him.” Galadriel took up the tale.  “This is the first time since Eärendil walked the shores of Aman that even the smallest essence of one of Feänor’s jewels has come to the West.”  She smiled at Frodo.  “On our journey here, Frodo learned more of the Trees, and what befell them at the hands of Morgoth and his fell servant, Ungoliant.  Soon after awakening, he selflessly offered up the phial -- hoping it would be of service.”

“I thought...” Frodo stammered.  “When I heard the tales, it occurred to me that someone could use the phial -- perhaps break it open -- to rekindle the Trees.  I thought it was something I could do, to show my gratitude for Bilbo and myself being allowed to dwell here.”

“Frodo,” Eärwen said, “very few learn to give freely that which they treasure.”

“He and Bilbo have both done so,” Gandalf said.  “Bilbo, with great strength of will, relinquished Sauron’s Ring and left it in Frodo’s keeping.  Frodo then carried the Ring back to the place of its own making, to destroy it.  And now he is here, having carried the light of Fëanor’s gem back to its home -- only to offer it back to the Elves of the West.”

“But I failed in both attempts,” Frodo said, hanging his head.  “I was unable to destroy the Ring on my own, and it is too late to restore the Trees.”

“It is your intention that we honor, Frodo,” Eärwen said softly.  “You have done more than anyone ever has, to bring the Silmarilli back to Valinor.  Even Eärendil, when he walked the Western shores with the gem itself, did not return it to the Valar.”

“But I have learned that the light of the phial cannot be used to rekindle the Trees,” Frodo said sadly.  “When I spoke with him, Gandalf... that is, Olórin told me that once the roots of the Trees died, it could not be undone.”

“But you did not know that when you made your offer,” Galadriel reminded him.  “You would have willingly given up a great treasure to a folk you did not even know.”

“That is indeed what matters,” Eärwen agreed.  She gazed at both hobbits.  “And speaking of folk you do not know, there is something more I wish to say.  I apologize to you for the ill treatment you have received since you arrived.”

“Ill treatment?” Bilbo asked, puzzled.  “We have met barely a handful of your folk, Lady.”

“That is exactly the point,” Eärwen said firmly.  “We have not welcomed you as we ought.  We have lived here for time uncounted, and many of our folk have never met a mortal being.  We did not understand why you and Frodo were brought here, or what events might unfold from such a strange occurrence.  But when we heard that Frodo gathered the gems on the shore only to return them to the sands – and that he offered to give up a treasure to aid us, a people who feared to even greet him properly...” She shook her head.  “The Valar are wise, and I now understand why the hidden path to the West was opened for you.  Frodo, your offer was selfless, and we honor it.  I hope you and Bilbo will accept our apology, and our welcome.”

Galadriel and Gandalf were silent.  It was a rare thing for the wife of Finarfin to humble herself thus.

“Of course, Lady,” Frodo said, feeling uncomfortable.  “And I understand the wariness of your people, truly.  Even my own folk distrust outsiders.  The Shire, although beautiful, is not a perfect place. ”

“Tell me of your homeland,” Eärwen encouraged the hobbits, accepting a bowl of berries from Bilbo.  “I would know more of the lands from which such noble beings come.”

Frodo blushed, but he and Bilbo were soon talking with great animation.  Frodo’s eyes glowed with joy when he spoke of the Shire’s renewed beauty, and he told the Lady about Sam and his cousins.

“Frodo,” Bilbo said after awhile, “I believe it is nearly suppertime.  Would you join us, ladies?”

"Thank you," Eärwen smiled.  "Perhaps another time." 

“I hope to see you again, Lady,” Bilbo said, getting stiffly to his feet.  “I am writing a book, you know, and would love to hear about... well, everything!” he laughed.

“Would you agree to bear Bilbo home, my friend?” Frodo asked Mellon.  “Sitting this long is hard for him.”

Mellon instantly turned so that Bilbo could sit on her back.  When she felt he was secure, she rose to her feet, waiting for Frodo. 

“I hope to have learned more Quenya the next time we meet,” Frodo said to Eärwen.  “And Lady, I hope you know that... you should be very proud of your daughter.  She gave us sanctuary on our quest, and blessed our journey in many ways.  She might have claimed the Ring for her own, but did not.  She sang to us of the Trees, and the West, and… gave me great hope.”  He bowed, then he and Gandalf accompanied Mellon up the hill.

“Frodo feared less that he and Bilbo would not be welcomed here, than that I would not be,” Galadriel said softly.

“I sense that he is very special,” Eärwen said thoughtfully.  “Tell me more of these hobbits.  For what reason did he and his kinsman choose exile from Middle-earth?”

“They did not flee Middle-earth, nor were they driven out.  They came, with the blessings of the Valar, in search of a new home.  Frodo has been promised healing from his many trials, and a place where he may find peace.”

Eärwen smiled.  “He will get little peace with one of the hounds of Oromë as companion.”

“Perhaps not,” Galadriel laughed, “and yet Mellon brings him great joy.  Frodo’s childhood traumas are being eased... and now, with your help, a hidden fear may soon be put to rest, as well.”

“And what is that?”

“That he would find himself alone, or lonely,” Galadriel said. “Frodo took a great chance in coming here.  What companionship or support would a mortal know, living in a place so far away, and glimpsed only by him through legends or dreams?  Who would be his friends?  How long would they stay by him?  He was prepared to live a solitary life with his uncle, if that is all he could find – but hobbits thrive on small, everyday pleasures, and the company of friends.”  She sighed.  “Twice he left his home, as did Bilbo – not knowing what would await them.”

“As you did,” her mother reminded her.

“That is true,” Galadriel said quietly.

“Celebrían urged me to come, but I delayed,” Eärwen said.  “I see that they both wear garments made by her hand; I recognize the weave.”

“It was she who arranged for a home to be made ready for them.  She dreamed of their coming, and sensed Arwen’s blessing upon them both.”

Eärwen’s eyes sparkled with tears at the thought of the great-granddaughter she had never met, and never would.  Seeking to distract herself, she looked up the hill.

“Why is the hobbits’ dwelling unadorned, and the gardens unkempt?”

“Bilbo is greatly aged as counted amongst their people, and is no longer as active as he would wish; yet he loves life still, and will perhaps know many more years.  Frodo is still recovering from the journey.  To maintain a home takes much work, and he and Bilbo struggle on their own to do all that is needful.”

“I promise you that they will struggle no longer; it is time our people heard the truth of their new neighbors, and made them welcome.”

“I thank you,” Galadriel said gratefully, “I know this was difficult for you.”

Eärwen smiled at her daughter.  “I have learned much this day, and am not so set in my ways, nor as stubborn, as some might believe.”

“I, too, learned much when first confronted with Frodo’s courage and humility,” Galadriel said.  “You are assisting in his healing, mother.  Frodo has felt incomplete and discouraged, believing that he lacked the strength or wisdom to accomplish all that he set out to achieve.”

“He did his best.”

“Exactly,” Galadriel agreed.  “With such tasks set before him, no one could have done more.  I felt his mood lighten as he heard you explain that intention is as great a gift as accomplishment – especially if that which you strive to accomplish cannot be achieved by any one person.”

“I, too, felt that,” Eärwen said.  “I am happy to have eased his spirit in this matter.”

“Come, let us walk together,” Galadriel smiled.  “We have spoken but little since you arrived.”

“We now have all the time in Arda,” Eärwen said, embracing her.

“I am overjoyed to be home at last,” Galadriel said joyously.  “I missed you so.”

“I missed you, more than you can imagine,” Eärwen said softly, “And Frodo saw clearly into my heart.  I am proud of you, my daughter.  Very proud, indeed.”

** TBC **





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