Chapter Twenty-One: Frost in Spring

Sam hoped, as Merry and Pippin did, as the weather began to lose its chill that Frodo would be more interested in taking tramps through the meadows and as the land slowly became alive again, so would he. But though the spring had indeed come, winter deepened in the Ring-bearer’s heart. He did go out walking with his brothers, which had expanded to Aragorn who had been made an honorary hobbit and brother as well, but it was not the healing exertion that the others hoped for. Frodo was distracted, not that he was not seeing what was around him, but that he was paying it greater attention than he had since they returned. It afforded him no joy, for he was still barren inside, and he grieved that he would not know another spring in the Shire.

“He’s going to leave again,” Pippin said one day when he and Merry were alone. “He’s acting the same way he did before all this all started.”

Merry didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The two sent up their watchfulness again as they had before, and found out that Sam was already aware and doing it as well.

It seemed that spring that Elanor was held more by her uncle than her father or mother. Sam did not begrudge that since it looked to him that two Elven hobbits now graced his life and they somehow belonged to each other. He often watched his beloved master with the little lass, as he played with her fingers, kissed her head, and stroked her cheek or her downy little feet. Every caress, every word he spoke or sang to her, was imbued with a love and pain so deep that Sam was moved nigh to tears many a time. At times, he watched as Frodo sleep with her against his chest during the day since the night brought him so little peace and he saw the tear tracks down those fair cheeks that he was unable to stop. He did not understand why their Elanor brought his brother such pain, but he knew she also brought him just as much joy and healing to his torn heart, even as she caused new wounds. Sam didn’t dare ask how the twain could be so intimately bound up in each other, though the question was writ large enough in his eyes that Frodo saw it and could no more respond than his guardian could ask. But no words were needed or could be said. The Ring-bearer’s gazes to his dearest brothers grew ever more tender and sad and their return ones, their silent kisses to his head and their arms so protectively around him, said more than anything spoken ever could. Their tears frequently mingled and though it was more than they thought they could bear, they remained by his side, loving him all the more, and he them. More than once also did they find him at times in the morning in the study on the floor, either wrapped up in Faramir’s arms or curled up by his side in a blanket dragged from his own bed.

At the end of May, Aragorn, Arwen and Faramir made ready to depart. It was with heavy hearts that they did so for they knew they would not see Frodo again. The Ring-bearer’s pain redoubled as they knelt before him to say their farewells for he was reminded again how much he would lose by leaving not only the Shire and his beloved kin there, but the others he loved so deeply. Sam and the others stood nearby, but wanted to give their brother privacy for this farewell.

Aragorn placed strong hands on his dear brother’s shoulders and the two looked long into each other’s eyes. “Frodo, our beloved one,” the king began, speaking not only for himself but for his queen and Steward as well, “we gather to send you forth on the wings of love. We free you to take leave of us as your time nears. We cradle your love in our hearts and in our memories. You will remain a part of us always. We gather here to bless you for your journey home and to express gratitude for what you have given to us by your presence in our lives.”

He kissed Frodo on the brow, then gathered him tight into his arms, loathe to let go. Frodo sobbed heavily in the arms of his king whom he clung to with a desperate tightness. Aragorn closed his eyes but could not stop his own tears. It seemed for ever before they reluctantly let go.

Arwen held him next, smiled and gave her own farewells and blessings. From what seemed a bottomless well, the Ring-bearer’s tears flowed. The queen wept as well and then wiped at his tears and kissed his head as he looked up at her. He held her again tightly and whispered, “Le hannon,” before letting go.

Faramir he held last. The two looked long into each other’s eyes and the man smiled gently and lovingly into the Ring-bearer’s troubled soul. Then the two held each other for a very long time, the Steward rocking him and stroking his curls as the tears continued to come from both. At last they parted and looked at each other again. Faramir smiled once more and wiped the tears away and kissed his head. “May you be well, little brother.”

The three said farewell to Sam, Merry, Pippin and Rose as well, and last but not least, to Elanor. The hobbits all watched them mount their horses and leave with many a backward glance and wave. Frodo stood transfixed until they could be seen no longer than turned back inside, feeling more desolate than he had since the day he had parted from the Company at Parth Galen. Gandalf left some days later as well but promised to return before the next month was out.

Several days later, Merry found Frodo standing at a window by himself watching the gathering storm clouds. The elder started a little when he heard the door open, but he didn’t turn when his cousin came up to him and saw him crying. Merry began to stroke Frodo’s back gently.

“I’ve changed so much, Merry,” Frodo said. The terrible pain and near despair in that voice, far too large for one hobbit, or even the entire Shire to contain, poured out that single tormented soul and the younger hobbit grieved to hear it.

“We all have, dearest. Don’t condemn yourself for that.”

“But you and Pippin and Sam have all changed for the better. You were already wonderful and then discovered strengths and bravery inside of you that you never even knew existed. I’ve only discovered weaknesses. You’ve confronted and defeated evil on the outside. I’ve encountered it inside of myself and been defeated by it.”

"Shhh, my Frodo, don’t say that. You are braver and stronger than any of us. You encountered evil in a much worse form than we did. It wasn’t inside of you to start with. It acted on you from the outside. And you fought it as hard as you could. I know you did. I saw you do it.”

“And I lost, Merry. I lost everything. I’ve lost the Ring. It filled me, then emptied me, leaving me with nothing but itself. I am nothing but a shell now.” Frodo paused. “After I was stabbed on Weathertop, I felt like there was a grey veil over my eyes that made it hard to see what was around me. I was glad when night came and hid the veil from me, when things could look almost normal again, when I didn’t feel so cut off from everything. I feel it again now, but instead of it being in front of my eyes, it’s around my heart. I feared even before I went on the Quest that I wouldn’t be returning. I didn’t think that I would come back and then discover I couldn’t return. But that is what has happened, Merry. I don’t belong here anymore.”

“Yes, you do, dearest, more than anyone you do. You’re the reason there is even still a Shire at all.”

"No, that’s Smeagol’s doing. I couldn’t destroy Ring. It was only an accident that it was lost and Smeagol with it.”

Merry continued his gentle stroking. “And who got it to where it could be destroyed, you silly, stubborn, beloved ass? You.”

“And Sam. I couldn’t have made it without him. I failed and others had to step in to save everything.”

How many times could a heart break Merry wondered? “Shhhh, dearheart. Don’t think that. Don’t ever think that. You saved us all. None of us could have done what you did and it’s not shameful that you had to have help.”

Merry put his fingers on his cousin’s lips when Frodo began to protest again. The tears were falling down his cheeks now in a parallel path with the rain down the window. Thunder rolled when Merry took his heart’s brother into his arms and the storm raging inside the Ring-bearer broke as the one outside gathered strength. The younger hobbit wondered at the force of both of them as he held Frodo tight and the troubled hobbit clung to his brother-cousin and wept as Merry told him over and over again that he loved him.

The younger hobbit remembered how frightened he was the first time he had seen and heard Frodo cry. Merry had been four and asked his cousin why he was so sad. The older lad had looked up startled and lost, the same way he did now, as though some essential part of him had been torn away and there was a hole he did not know how to fill. Frodo had told Merry then that his parents had died six years before on that day. Merry hadn’t known how to respond to that, but he had tried to fill the hole by hugging his best friend and cousin for the longest time and cried with him. They held onto each other like there was no one else in the world and they would die if they let go. After a while, Frodo was able to stop crying and get through the rest of the day. Merry felt just as lost now in how to fill the hole that gaped before him, spilling out his beloved’s lifeblood, but continued to apply the same love as before.

Even after Frodo was spent and the rain outside gentled also, he didn’t let go of Merry, just rested his head on his shoulder and held on tightly. Merry guided him to bed and laid down next to him and continued stroking his curls and back. The tension that had never completely left was already returning.

"I remember when you first did that,” Frodo said softly.

“And did you know that I did it at Rivendell and Ithilien while I waited for you to wake?” Merry asked.

“Yes. I love you, my Merry. Thank you.”

The younger hobbit leaned over and kissed his brother’s cheek. “I love you, too, my Frodo.”

He took Frodo into my arms and sang to him his favorite lullaby. The Ring-bearer cried again, then the tension left him enough that he was able to sleep.

“Ring-bearer you have been,” Merry whispered, “but you were mine first and I fully intend to reclaim you simply as my cousin and my brother.” He kissed him again, wished him sweet dreams, then closed his own eyes, remembering all the while how Frodo used to do all that when they were at Brandy Hall together and would comfort his younger cousin if he had a bad dream, got frightened by a storm or sometimes just stayed with him because he wanted to be with him.

Pippin came in later that afternoon, finding them still asleep and curled up on Frodo’s other side. He remembered the many times they had done this throughout his childhood, how many adventures they had planned to have and did have and how the three of them were never going to part. The tween gently touched his brother’s curls and brushed his brow with a kiss. How many times would they do this, he wondered? The question was still not answered when Pippin feel asleep beside his troubled cousin.

A/N: The farewell prayer was from Joyce Rupp,“Blessing of One Who Draws Near to Death” from Out of the Ordinary.