Chapter Seven: The Gift

Frodo had long been told that he had the choice as to when to leave the circles of the world.  He didn't want to, though, until he knew Sam was ready.  He never said anything to the brother of his heart because he didn't want to influence him one way or another.  But after they had been together for a long while, he began to look for signs that perhaps could tell him that the soul his was knit too was ready for their next adventure.  'Til then, Frodo spent each day, treasuring it more than the last, almost constantly in his beloved guardian's presence and loving every moment. 

At other times, he sat quietly by himself in the large library where he had spent much of his time before his Sam had come.  He still very much enjoyed the solitude of the place as he worked on his writing, leaving an indelible mark on the land he had made his own.  He had so long passed the pain that he had brought him here, that there was nothing but joy left in him in the thought that now several volumes would stand on the shelves that wouldn't have been otherwise.  His Sam would come to him after some time in the garden to retrieve him for "proper hobbit meals and proper naps" and the Elves around would see how much more brightly the shining fear of the two hobbits would flash when around each other.  When previously he had been left to his own devices, Frodo had sometimes just munched on mushrooms where he sat and napped in a corner, but not since Sam came, and how the elder hobbit loved to be spoiled by his brother.  The younger always knew by that extra sense he had always had since a child when his treasure needed him.  But if by some strange chance, he did not come and found his dear already sleeping, Frodo would at times half-rouse when he felt himself picked up and carried out.  He would snuggle closer to his Sam and then fall trustfully back to sleep again, sometimes feeling the soft brush of lips against his brow after he had been set gently down in his own bed or hear the murmured "I love you."  If he was awake enough, he would respond back, before returning to slumber, feeling very treasured. 

But then came the day at last, when both souls were ready for the Gift that awaited them.  It was Frodo who told Gandalf what he and Sam had decided.  "I thought we would leave on the 22nd.  It will my 150th birthday and Mum and Da and Bilbo have waited so long already.  Seems a proper date to set out and follow the old fellow."

Olorin smiled at the echo of words said a century before and from the shining twinkle in his dear friend's eyes and entire being, he knew they were deliberately said.  A whole century! the Maia thought amazed.

So the day came and Frodo and Sam spent it revisiting their favorite places and friends for the last time.  They faced the East and stood at the edge of the water for the longest time, remembering those they left behind, but then faced further West and laid down, wrapping themselves in each other's arms.

"What a tale we have been in, Sam!" Frodo murmured.  "I wonder how it will go on after we're gone?"

Sam kissed his brother's brow and looked into the bright, beloved eyes.  He caressed that dear face and curls and smiled at him, so full of loving light that it seemed to be a separate thing, alive on its own.  Frodo smiled back and stared long into those eyes that he had sustained his life and joy for well over a century.

"Happy birthday, my dear love," Sam said. "Now and for always."

"And you, too, my Sam," Frodo said.

As one they breathed their last and birthed their new life together.