The next morning, Frodo woke from a long, deep sleep. The storms in his heart and soul had calmed from the remembrance of his torment from Shelob and in the Tower, but his stomach rumbled to remind him that he had no eaten the day before. Bilbo looked at him and smiled. He brought over a steaming bowl of broth with some meats and vegetables in it.

“Elrond said you should have this and to take it slowly so you do not upset your stomach further.”

Frodo sat up and smiled. “It smells delicious, Uncle! Thank you.”

Bilbo smiled wider as his heartson eagerly devoured the meal as quickly as he could. “You were supposed to eat slowly, not like a herd of oliphaunts were charging down upon you.”

Frodo’s eyes were merrier than Bilbo had seen in too long a time. “I was hungry, Uncle.”

“I’m glad to hear that though. The food of the Elves is like nothing else.”

Frodo wiped his mouth. He felt tempted to run his fingers along the inside of the bowl as he had as a lad, especially if Bilbo had made their favorite mushroom dish, but he restrained himself.

Bilbo chuckled softly. “Go ahead. I know what you want to do.”

Frodo set to. After the bowl was clean of the last fragment of food, he asked, “Does Gandalf really think this could be my last illness?”

Bilbo looked at his beautiful lad whose eyes still reflected suffering in their depths but where hope and expectancy shone on the surface. The ancient hobbit had a vision then, at once seeing the fair lad he had known from birth and tweenhood, and the older one, no less beautiful or beloved, that was so terribly hurt. Bilbo’s heart squeezed in both joy and pain. He felt tears prick at his eyes, but it was more from love and pride that his lad had come through his ordeals in body and was slowly healing in spirit.

“He thought it could be, but he also knew you would have the same aid you had this time, if another befell you.” Bilbo was silent for a little while, just content to look at his heartson, then he spoke again. “Can you tell me more about that Lady you saw? That was a rare privilege.”

Frodo paused as he tried to put into words what he had felt. Any hesitation he had felt before about exposing the depths of his pain and the sources of it had fallen away and he knew he needed to speak. “She was very beautiful, more lovely than even Queen Arwen or Lady Galadriel, and I thought none could more fair than they. And she was more sorrowful than anyone I’ve known. She wept not for me as much as with me. I do not know why but that comforted me and gave me courage and strength that no one and nothing else could. It was like she saw all the broken pieces of my heart and knew exactly when and why each had split apart. She touched each one and I could feel that she stood with me at each moment another piece had broken off and felt the pain I had then just as keenly in her own heart. I would have gone mad to remember it all again if she hadn’t been there to strengthen me with her light. It did not fail even as her lamenting became a wail that merged with and then drowned my own, before quieting again. She saw all my darkness, all the terrible things the Enemy did to me, how I could not resist him and how his own lust for the Ring become mine. And I think I am beginning to see it to, as she saw it. Though I was naked before her, I felt no shame or fear. Her tears covered me with love and understanding.” Frodo smiled. “She is a lot like Sam in that way. He saw me at my worst and yet he never judged and just kept loving me. But she surpasses even him. She shone a light into all the dark places of myself that I have feared to tread. I can now because enough of her light lingers there for me to see the pieces myself, so I can start to put them back together again. She began that task for me and collected back together the pieces that were so shattered they were but splinters and she gave me the strength to continue it and finish it." Frodo looked into his uncle's eyes. "But I still need your help and Boromir’s and any other that will give it. I cannot do this on my own, anymore than I could fulfill my first Quest.”

Bilbo smiled through the tears that streaked down his face. “Of course, my dear boy. I could not walk with you when you had to bear such hurts, but I will now. I will await the day I will see you shine as fully as ever you did. Already I can see what it will look like.”

“You were with me, Uncle. Don’t think you weren’t. I want to see that day myself, and I want Sam to see it too.” Frodo squeezed Bilbo tight. “Thank you for loving me.”