Frodo Baggins was on the beach, watching the waves. It was near sunset and the vague thought had occurred to him once or twice that he should be getting back home for dinner. Left-over habits. It wasn’t a problem in Arda Unmarred if he was late for dinner, or if he didn’t eat at all. For some reason, things like that didn’t matter so much in the Undying Lands. Besides, even if it did matter he wouldn’t have stirred. There was something soothing and slightly hypnotizing about ocean waves and few enough things had been soothing in Frodo’s recent past.

Frodo shifted slightly on the grass and sighed. It certainly was a lovely beach. No sharp rocks and sand mites here. Just soft green grass leading down to about three yards from the water. After the grass, there was an expanse of pure white sand. I’ve never seen white sand on a beach…Frodo mused, forgetting that he had never seen a beach up until his voyage across the sea. The water certainly is blue…I could almost imagine that it was calling me…asking me to come in, like an annoying friend insisting that the water is perfectly fine and not to act so ridiculous. I’m NOT acting ridiculous. I’m going to stay right here on the grass and nothing that water can say will persuade me to do otherwise!

“Good day.”

Frodo started and blushed, as if the dark-haired Elven maiden who had snuck up behind him could hear his thoughts. It was slightly embarrassing to be caught in the middle of a mental argument with the ocean, of all things. The maiden was watching him now with a cocked head. Frodo blushed harder and tried to remember his manners.

He stood quickly but the lady waved her hand as if dismissing him. “No need to stand. A simple ‘Good day’ will suffice.”

“Good day and forgive my rudeness.” Frodo muttered eyes on the grass. “I’m not myself today.”

The lady smiled and walked gracefully down to the sand. “Do not think of it, I don’t mind at all.” The lady sat on the white sand and watched the waves as well.

Frodo found himself examining her. Her long dark hair fell down her back and just barely brushed the white grains of sand. Her silver gown pooled around her feet and she drew her knees up to her chin and rested her head upon them, looking for all the world like a child watching something utterly fascinating. She looked so ancient, and yet so young. She seemed so familiar…which was ridiculous, because he didn’t know hardly anyone in Arda Unmarred, save for Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond and Bilbo of course. Bilbo…the thought of his uncle sparked Frodo into action, he started to stand, meaning to excuse himself as his uncle would be worried, when the lady stood first.

“The water looks lovely today, does it not?” she remarked stepping even closer to the waves which still crashed gently upon the shore. For the first time, Frodo noticed that she was barefoot. She stepped closer to the waves, allowing the most adventurous of them to tickle her feet. “It’s not too cold either.”

“What would you expect from Paradise?” Frodo asked in a low voice.

She turned then and watched him out of disconcerting blue eyes. They were the same shade of blue as the waves. “Paradise.” She stated. It was that, a statement, not a question, so Frodo didn’t elaborate. But he had the sneaking suspicion that she could read his mind. Which meant that she knew that Arda Unmarred was no Paradise, at least not for him. Even upon its green and undying shores, the shadows of his past still haunted him. As if wanting to distract him from those thoughts, the lady stepped into the water. Her long train of silver silk was immediately soaked.

Frodo stood, his face drawing with concern. “My lady your gown-“

“Gowns can dry.” She interrupted with a smile. “Days like these do not last forever. And this moment will never come again.” She turned back to the water and faced the East. Lifting her arms she let the wind, tainted gold by the setting sun, fly through her dark hair. “Gwae a anar a aear bein, lend glaer orbo malthen gwilith.” She murmured to the setting sun.

Frodo watched her, the Elvish words already finding their meanings in his mind.

She turned back to him and smiled. “Will you come in? The water is warm and the wind is lovely.”

“I’m fine here.” Frodo replied, wondering how he could get out of this one.

She cocked her head, mischief sparkling in her blue eyes. “I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you would come in.”

Frodo shifted uncomfortably. “To tell the truth, Milady, I’m not a great lover of water.”

“Oh really?” she asked, splashing a few drops of water in his direction. Frodo ducked aside, laughing, as the drops of water fell like diamonds onto the sand. “You don’t seem to be afraid of water.” She mused.

“I never said I was afraid, just that I don’t like it.” Frodo watched the waves rise higher on her. The water was rising; it was up to her knees by now. “My parents drowned when I was young.” He murmured, sitting down on the sand and running a few grains through his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” She said softly, and Frodo had the sense that she really was. She watched him for a moment, and then gazed into the East. “And, I suppose, there’s the whole matter of the ocean as an enemy.”

“The oceans not my enemy.” Frodo protested.

She didn’t look at him, but remained facing the East. “It harbors some unpleasant memories. It’s separating you from your home.”

“This IS my home.” Frodo said, gesturing to Arda Unmarred in general.

“Now. It wasn’t always.” Now she turned to him, and the setting sun that sank slowly behind the hill shone full on her face, turning her skin golden. “You are a mortal. Unlike the Elves, you have always felt at home in Middle-Earth. The Undying Lands were never an option for you. Yet here you are.”

“Are you displeased that I have come?” Frodo asked, eyes still on the sand.

“No. You came because the Shire was no longer home to you.” Frodo flinched at the mention of the Shire, and the lady’s voice softened. “But that does not take away the pain of separation. I know. You miss him.”

“Who?” Frodo asked, knowing the answer, but unwilling to admit it.

“Sam.” Her voice was a whisper, and for a moment Frodo thought he had imagined it, like he always did. Every night as he listened to the wind flying about the country, he thought he could hear Sam’s voice. But it was only the wishes of a lonely heart.

Frodo’s head snapped up as he realized what she had said. “How do you know about him?” he demanded, no longer afraid of offending her.

She smiled, and stepped deeper into the water. “Word gets around. Besides, I have taken an interest in your story.”

“Who are you?’ Frodo asked in utter confusion that an Elven lady could know so much about him. He wondered why she even cared.

She said nothing for a moment then began to chant. “The leaves were long, the grass was green, the hemlock-umbels tall and fair, and in the glade a light was seen, of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinuviel was dancing there, to music of a pipe unseen, and light of stars was in her hair and in her raiment glimmering.”

A memory of long ago, of a tall Ranger chanting softly to four hobbits in the middle of the wilderness, a tale of the love between an Elven-maiden and a mortal man and the story of their love that spanned two races. Frodo realized who she was. Not Lady Luthien herself, but a descendant, who's daughter had followed in Luthiens footsteps....“What you said before, it means: Wind and sky and ocean fair, sweet songs upon golden air.” He remarked.

The lady laughed and said, “You are full of surprises, Frodo Baggins.”

“As are you, Lady Celebrian.”

Celebrian, wife of Elrond and mother of Arwen, for that was who she was, laughed again and said,”Very good. You are a wise one. Are you sure you will not come in?”

Frodo shook his head. “I’m too afraid. I always was. I’m such a coward.” He didn’t know why he was admitting this to Lady Celebrian of all people, but he felt better saying it. “I didn’t even have the will to do what I was supposed to. I don’t deserve to be here. I have done nothing worthy of it.”

Celebrian's face clouded with concern. She turned and walked back to where he sat. She got down on her knees, right there in the water and lifted his face to look at her. “Not nothing, Frodo. You have done more than anyone. You are braver than anyone I have ever met, braver than me.” She gently brushed a curl back from his face, then touched the white jewel, a gift from Arwen Undomiel, Celebrian's daughter, which hung around his neck. “You wear the my daughter's gift well. You wore the Ring better and with more honor than a thousand men. You deserve this, much more than you know. Do you not realize that all of Middle-Earth owes you their lives?”

“But I-“Frodo began.

She silenced him with her gaze. "No buts. You are a hero. Never forget that.” Blue eyes stared into blue eyes for a moment, and then Celebrian stood and waded back into the water.

Frodo watched the waves that were beginning to tickle his toes. Water was always associated with purifying. With new life. Was he ready to accept new life? Was he ready to let the events of the past year, nay of the past several years be washed away? All his pain, starting with the death of his parents, then, one by one, the loss of Bilbo, the finding of the Ring, the loss of Gandalf, the madness of Boromir, the breaking of the Fellowship, the miles and miles of journey to Mount Doom, his failure in giving up the Ring, the loss of the Ring and Gollum, the loss of his home in his sailing away and above all the steady, but sure loss of his innocence. The innocence that kept the light in his eyes, despite so many blows, the innocence than enabled him to laugh, even in the darkest times, the innocence that made him who he was, the innocence that he found was lost upon returning home. Was he ready to let those scars, that pain be washed away? Ceebrian was still standing there, waiting for his decision. Her silence held a challenge. ‘Will you let go?' She had already let go. Frodo knew that she herself had had her share of hard times. Leaving her husband and children behind. Celebrian would probably never see Arwen again, that lady having chosen a mortal life. Frodo stood and gazed at the water. Then, he made his decision.

And stepped into the water.