Chapter Sixteen

At Frodo’s invitation, Boromir came to live with him and Bilbo. The elder Baggins was not completely pleased with the arrangement, but he said nothing. He watched his heartson and the man carefully, but it was clear that there was nothing but love between them. The shadow that had laid between them and had torn them apart originally had departed. It was clear how good Boromir was for Frodo and Frodo for Boromir. Unease passed from Bilbo’s heart and pity replaced it for the man had not asked to come here and was grieved to have woken but in exile, forever sundered from his kin.

Days spent walking increasingly far with Frodo strengthened Boromir. Soon he did not need his walking stick but still used it at times because his little friend liked to use one as well. Gandalf and Galadriel smiled to see the two begin to heal each other.

Other days Frodo spent the time outside writing. Sometimes he sat by the sea, especially if he was writing of his brother-cousins or of Sam. It helped to be as close as he could be to them or to hear and see the endless water when recalling the terrible thirst while traversing the desolation of Mordor. Most times Boromir joined him there and stared across the vast expanse. Sometimes the Ring-bearer put down his quill and simply sat with the man and silently held his hand until the hobbit felt the pain of loss ease for a while in his friend’s heart. Boromir remembered doing that with Faramir when they were lads and the pain of losing their mother was still fresh. He recalled also the times his brother had done it as a grown man by the bedside of an injured Ranger to simply let the wounded warrior know that his Captain was near and cared for him. At times the memories brought tears but later came smiles and always love and longing. Sometimes it was enough to make Boromir’s heart break. He didn’t always know whether it was from loss or from a burst of joy to realize that his brother may no longer be physically with him but was still very present and always would be. Sometimes he saw a small smile on Frodo’s face as well and he wondered if it was from a similar understanding.

On a particularly bright and peaceful day, Frodo felt strong enough to write of Shelob. The cost of such a deep immersion into horror and terror was not apparent until a scream ripped through the night and startled both Bilbo and Boromir awake.

Boromir was the first to reach Frodo as the traumatized Ring-bearer partially woke from his nightmare. The man gathered the trembling hobbit into his arms as Bilbo rushed in and lit an oil lamp. For some time Frodo just clung tightly to his friend and moaned softly.

Boromir looked up at Bilbo’s anxious face. “The men of Gondor are no strangers to nightmares from facing the servants of the Enemy. Some are wounded far deeper than others and you can only see such in their eyes or hear it in their screams. Soldier’s heart the healers called it but they had no cure for it. My brother knew much more about how to aid the afflicted than I did. All I know I learned from watching him. He deeply loved his men and Gondor itself and everything within it.”

Tears streaked down Bilbo’s face. “I wish the Ring had never came to me or I to it. My boy would not be so hurt if I had not passed it to him.”

“It’s not your fault, Uncle,” came a muffled response. Frodo lifted his head and his own tear-washed face and eyes met Bilbo’s. “I’m sorry to have woken you. I thought...I thought....”
He rubbed his neck and by the light of the lamp both Boromir and Bilbo saw a red mark there, an old injury that was obviously causing the Ring-bearer pain.

“What’s hurting you, my lad?”

“That’s where the spider bit me. I was...I was dreaming about her.”

Boromir and Bilbo wanted to hear more but Frodo was silent. He continued to rub. “Do you think, please, Uncle, that you could get from Elrond the salve that he gave me in Rivendell to help with this?”

Bilbo knew his heartson must be in greater torment than he let on for being so clear about asking for aid. He gave his boy one last look and then fled into the night as fast his ancient limbs could carry him.

Frodo lay quietly in Boromir’s arms for a short while before the man spoke. “I’ve seen no spider that could cause such a wound.”

“Then you have not seen the one that guards the Haunted Pass nigh to the Tower of Cirith Ungol and may you count yourself forever blessed.”

Boromir took in a sharp breath. “You mean the stories of old are true and you encountered the dark terror there? Not even the most stouthearted warrior would want to venture there knowing what was there.”

“I was neither stouthearted nor a warrior. I knew little of what was there, only what Faramir had warned me about. I had to go there nonetheless. It is better not to know what fate awaits us. I am glad that I did not. I feared all along that I knew but I did not. I survived it all...after a fashion. Sam had more courage than I did. He fought a monster taller and stronger than himself and injured her badly. Whether he killed her I know not.”

Boromir's eyes widened. A spider taller than a hobbit? He held Frodo tighter. “You have far greater courage than you know, my little friend. The greatest weapon of the Enemy was the terror and despair that went before him and his servants. To conquer that and still move forward against it shows valor that is a marvel to behold. I do not know, anymore than any of my generation, what was the truth of the horror that dwelt in the pass, but none wished to venture there because of the rumors and dark tales. That you did and were wounded but still victorious is a wonder to me.”

“I had to go. I do not know if I would have had the strength to if I had known all the terrible things that would happen.”

“I think you would have.”

“I already did not wish to go even before leaving Bag End.”

“But you still did.”

“Because I did not know.”

“But as you learned more and more, you still continued on.”

“I had to.”

“You could have turned back.”

“No, I could not.”

“Right there is your courage, my friend. You had the freedom to say no but you choose to use the same freedom to say yes.”

Frodo was silent. Bilbo returned shortly afterwards and tenderly applied the salve. The pain eased enough for the Ring-bearer to lay down, give his uncle soft thanks, and slip into sleep again. Ancient hobbit and young man watched quietly.

“I thought I knew what courage was, but I realize how little I did know until now.”

Bilbo looked up at Boromir’s words. “I think that often myself.”