STARSHIP

Chapter 5:  Here in My Arms

Sam had noticed that at times a light seemed to be shining faintly within; but now the light was even clearer and stronger. Frodo's face was peaceful, the marks of fear and care had left it; but it looked old, old and beautiful, as if the chiselling of the shaping years was now revealed in many fine lines that had before been hidden, though the identity of the face was not changed. Not that Sam Gamgee put it that way to himself. He shook his head, as if finding words useless, and murmured: “I love him. He's like that, and sometimes it shines through, somehow. But I love him, whether or no.”  ‘Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit’, The Two Towers

It was past midnight when Gandalf brought Frodo the news he had been waiting for: Vingilot had arrived in port in Valinor, and Sam was aboard.  With great excitement, Frodo quietly made his way outside.

“Did you sleep in your clothes, dear boy?” Gandalf asked, noticing Frodo trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his tunic.

“I had to,” Frodo insisted.  “I didn’t know when you’d come to get me, and the way time passes here... well, I didn’t want to waste a moment.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I’ve several cauldrons on the hearth,” Frodo replied.  “If you could go in and fill the tub, I’ll see to the lanterns.”

They both hurried to their tasks, then Frodo followed the wizard down to the beach where Elrond had been tracking the progress of his father’s ship.  

“Good evening, Frodo.  Is everything prepared?” Elrond inquired.

“Yes,” Frodo said.  He gazed eagerly into the northwest sky, which was thick with stars. 

“Sam will need quiet, and a cool, dark place to recover,” Elrond reminded.  “He should not be left alone.”

“He will never be alone again,” Frodo said firmly.  He began to pace impatiently back and forth through the sand, much to the Elf-lord’s amusement.  “Where are they?”

“Let me listen,” Elrond murmured, and Frodo grew silent.  The only sound was the sea lapping gently on the shore.

“I hear winged flight,” Elrond said suddenly, and pointed.

Frodo strained to see, but it took several minutes before he discerned a black dot against the stars.

“Who was chosen?” he asked.

“The honor is Lairë’s,” Gandalf said quietly.  “I can sense her joy.”

Frodo had to remind himself to breathe as the Eagle approached.  The mighty bird had nearly reached them before he could see that she was carrying something in her talons.

“Is that Sam?” he asked anxiously.

“Yes,” Gandalf smiled. “He is here at last, Frodo.”

Soon the proud messenger of Manwë was hovering in the air just above them, and Gandalf reached up to take Sam.  Relieved of her burden, the Eagle landed on the sand and folded her enormous wings.

“Thank you, my lady!” Frodo cried out joyously in Quenya.

“It is my honor, Ring-bearer,” the Eagle responded, dipping her head so that Elrond could retrieve the pouch that hung there.  “Son of Eärendil, your parents send greetings.”

“I thank you,” Elrond said with a bow.

“I trust that the small one is unharmed?”

“He sleeps peacefully,” Gandalf said.

Lairë nodded, pleased.  “I cannot linger,” she said.  “I rarely leave my family at night, but Lady Elwing was most insistent that you take the small one into your care as soon as possible.”

“We are grateful for your service,” Frodo said, bowing deeply.  The Eagle dipped her head again, then took to the sky.  Frodo reached up to touch Sam, and satisfy himself that he wasn’t dreaming.  Gandalf smiled down at the anxious hobbit trying to peer into his arms. 

“Lead the way, Frodo!” he said, and his merry laugh rang across the air.

Needing no more than the bright starlight by which to see, Frodo ran across the sand, back up the familiar path, and through a grove of trees, until he reached one of the gardens outside the home he and Bilbo shared.  He stopped at an exceptionally soft, thick patch of lawn, which was encircled by the lanterns he had lit before going down to the beach.  When Gandalf and Elrond joined him, the wizard knelt and laid Sam on the cool grass.  They removed Sam’s cloak and pack, and Frodo smiled when he found the walking stick.

“You chose well,” Elrond said, looking around.  “This place will help anchor Sam to the earth once again.”

“Look at him,” Frodo said, sitting on the grass next to Sam.  Every bit of his friend – hair, skin, and clothing – sparkled in the soft glow from the lanterns.  He took one of Sam’s hands, and a fine, glittering dust fell from his fingers.  Star dust, he thought in amazement.

“It is from my father's raiment,” Elrond said quietly.

“Master Elrond, he’s terribly warm!” Frodo said anxiously. 

“Yes,” Elrond said gravely.  “I discussed with many of the Wise here in this land the possible effects on Sam of such close exposure to the burning rays of a Silmaril.”  He held his hands over Sam’s sleeping form.  “I do not sense that he has been harmed, Frodo; in fact, this journey may serve him well.  We will cool his body and ease this fever.”

“Can we remove this now?” Frodo asked, pointing to the binding over Sam’s eyes, and Elrond nodded.  Frodo quickly untied it, and handed it to him.  Elrond fingered the cloth, recognizing it as belonging to his daughter.

Frodo’s heart leaped with joy as the face of his dear friend was revealed.

“He doesn’t look anywhere near as old as I thought he would,” he said in wonder.

“He does not,” Gandalf agreed.  “Galadriel wondered if something of Lórien would transfer to the Shire when Sam used her gift.  It appears to have been the case... in many ways.”

Sam stirred slightly, and murmured something unintelligible.

“I deem it too soon for him to wake,” Elrond warned.  “We must ease him slowly back to consciousness.”  He reached out to lift Sam from the ground.

“Wait!” Frodo urged.  Sam’s eyes had opened slightly.  “Sam, can you hear me?  It’s Frodo.”

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam murmured.  He drifted between sleep and waking, seeing nothing but prisms of light, and stars streaking across a brilliant sky.  “Remember... that star, sir?  The... the one in the Black Lands?”

“I do not,” Frodo said softly.  He caressed Sam’s brow.  “But I remember you telling me about it.”

“A dream... I was... I was there...”

“I know,” Frodo whispered in awe.

“Mr. Frodo...”  Sam reached out his hand.  With a soft cry, Frodo gathered his friend into his arms and held him close.  Slowly, Sam’s tumbled thoughts calmed.  The light softened, and he found himself in a meadow of soft grass where he walked with his master beneath the stars. 

“Shhhhh.  Sleep, Sam,” Frodo whispered in his ear.

Sam relaxed, breathing deeply of the intoxicating fragrance of night-blooms that he knew only from dreams.   With a sigh, he slid back into the cooling darkness.

Frodo rocked Sam back and forth, finally allowing tears of joy and relief to flow freely.

“Now Sam has begun to be anchored,” Gandalf said quietly, smiling at the two hobbits.

“I agree, my friend,” Elrond said.  “And so, all of the Ring-bearers have been granted passage to the West.  I do not suppose that the Straight Way will be opened again to any other mortals.”

“Who can say?” Gandalf mused.  “The Song is still being fully revealed, is it not?  Anything is possible.”

“Frodo?” came a voice from the front door.

“We’re out here, Bilbo!” Frodo called out.       

“What are you doing?” Bilbo asked, yawning.  He padded out onto the lawn as he tied his dressing gown about himself.  “Hullo, Elrond... Gandalf.  Frodo, did you draw a bath at this hour?  The water is beginning to cool.”

“I know,” Frodo said.  “It’s for Sam.”

“Good gracious me!” Bilbo exclaimed in amazement.  “Samwise Gamgee!  I forgot he was arriving today.  Or is it tomorrow?”  He peered more closely.  “Why, he’s as bright as the Arkenstone!  How delightful.”

Frodo started to laugh.  “Nothing much surprises you, does it Bilbo?”

“Not any longer, my lad,” Bilbo replied.  “Why, I’ve seen more wonder and change in my life than any hobbit ever dreamed of!”

“Let me take him,” Elrond said, and Frodo reluctantly allowed Sam to be taken from his arms.

“The sun will be up soon,” Bilbo said, starting back to the house.  “I might as well start breakfast.  Four hotcakes, Elrond?  And five for you, Gandalf?”

“As always,” Gandalf chuckled.  “Some things never change, my old friend.”

** TBC **