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Till We Have Faces  by Antane

In the morning, Frodo waded into the Sea while Bilbo and Boromir stayed on the shore. The ancient hobbit remained peaceful with a deeply contented smile on his face as his heartson went further and further out, but the man grew concerned once the water was deep enough to cover Frodo. He looked back at Bilbo. “Should he not be out so far?”

“Do not fret for him,”  Bilbo said with the same placid and joyfully loving look. His eyes did not move from watching his lad. “He is not in peril. He is quite safe in Lord Ulmo’s care, as he has been from the time his parents were lost in that Vala’s domain.”

“I would think he would be more afraid of the water after such a terrible time, than less.”

“He was for a long while, but he learned to trust in the Powers’ love for him, even as a child, though he knew not then who he gave his trust to. But after living among the Elves for so long, and learning about their faith in the Powers, I can see how deeply our lad was sensitive to them even then. And that only grew as he took upon himself the terrible burden I left him, all unknowing. He knows now how carefully watched over he was and always will be. And I think I am realizing it now too and can let go of the burden I have held so long that I gave such a vile thing to him. He understood far before that he was indeed chosen for it and now he learns to lay it down and live again as he was always meant. In some ways, he is becoming a child again. Would that we all could trust that fully.”

Boromir was deeply moved by Bilbo’s words, as he knew the ancient hobbit was just as moved by Frodo himself. He looked back to his little brother. Almost he thought he could see the faint outline of the Vala who held the Ring-bearer close. Certainly he sensed he was in the presence of one of the Powers and his belief in them deepened now that he could see another of their faces. He bowed his head and mouthed his thanks and then raised his eyes again to look upon Frodo.

Frodo spent some time in the water thinking of the times it had saved him from peril and eased the burden of his Quest: crossing the Brandywine and the Ford of Bruinen, walking through the Nimrodel, floating upon the Anduin, the marvel of finding water in Mordor and the wonder of transversing the Sundering Seas. Once he had sated himself for the moment and returned to the shore once more, he faced the water and bowed. The tide tickled his feet and he smiled, then turned to face Bilbo and Boromir.

“My lad, you shine near as bright as one of the Firstborn. It makes me wonder if there is truth in the old tale that one of the Tooks took one to wife and so was able to pass their grace down to you. In fact, I’ve wondered that since I first set eyes upon you.”

Frodo giggled and Bilbo’s heart soared. The last chains broke free and their fear danced in the air as they embraced. The ancient hobbit closed his eyes and opened his ears wider to drown in the melody that now sang forth as it had before the Quest brought such discord. He knew his time was short but he sought to lengthen it to enjoy the Song of his lad’s fea as long as he could and to look into those eyes that were bright with life and joy again and had never been without love for him. It pierced his own heart that he would soon be bereft of seeing that and would cause fresh tears in his lad but now he could only rejoice. The tears Frodo wiped away on his uncle’s cheeks were happy ones. The sad ones would come soon enough but not now. Now his lad was home again and there was nothing but shouts of joy and thanks that only those who had brought it could hear.






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