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The Trial of Frodo Baggins  by Gentle Hobbit

Disclaimer: All the characters and settings (except for Tenegold and his captain) belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. This story is my way of working out ideas and concepts already present in The Lord of the Rings. This is done for enjoyment, and for sharing, but not for profit.

Author's note: This is my first attempt at posting fanfiction. I have had this idea for some time but have been dithering over whether or not to try to write a story around it. I love Frodo-centred fiction, especially when it is written with care and feeling. I just hope that I may do some justice to this piece. I also hope that readers might want to leave reviews--I can only benefit from constructive criticism from such creative authors as I have seen here.

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 Chapter Note: This is the last chapter of this story. However, there will be an Epilogue, and those of you who enjoyed the character of Fellen may be glad to know that he will appear once more.

Chapter 13: Healing

Frodo led Merry to the same place on the wall where Fellen had first talked to him. The Garden of the Houses of Healing was lush and green.

Merry chuckled. "You have quite a love for these walls, cousin. I'm not sure we're ever going to be able to pry you from them when we leave."

Frodo smiled, a little shamefacedly. "They have been a refuge for me when I needed it. Everyone could see me, but..." he trailed off reflectively for a moment. "These walls can be lonely places. I think that everyone knew, somehow, that I wanted to be alone."

Merry looked at him sideways. "Really? Imagine that."

"All right. So it was plain to see."

Frodo climbed onto the wall and, standing, looked out. Merry followed him. "They still offer me refuge," Frodo said, slowly.

"I know," said Merry.

They sat then, facing each other, backs against the blocks of stone jutting up at intervals.

"Do you remember what Aragorn said during the judgement," Frodo asked, "about how I must tell my story to someone?"

Merry nodded. "Oh yes. I have wondered who it was that you chose."

"Actually, I haven't told anyone yet."

"What?" Merry looked at him keenly. "It's been a week now. Won't Aragorn ask...?"

"I've talked to him," Frodo said quickly. "He won't hurry me." His voice lowered a little. "But I have found it hard even thinking of telling anyone my story." He laughed then, a slightly shaky laugh. "I have also found it difficult to choose someone."

"Have you chosen someone now?" Merry asked carefully.

Frodo looked at him. "You told me, once, that you wanted to understand. That you wanted me to talk to you. Is that still true?"

"It is."

"Will you listen to me? Will you hear my story?"

"I will, my cousin."

Frodo looked out over the city. "Do you also remember what Aragorn said: 'Not all may be able to listen without fear or hurt.'" He looked back again. "I don't want to hurt you."

Merry gazed down at the rough stone of the wall. "I suppose that I might be afraid. I know that what you will talk of will be terrible! But as you said before, I want to understand. It is worth the risk, I think."

Frodo took a deep and steadying breath. "Then listen! And I hope that you will forgive me."

And so Merry and Frodo sat long upon the walls while the Ringbearer told his story. And Merry did feel fear, but it did not discourage him from listening, and at the end Frodo was greatly comforted. For Merry forgave him for both his plans and his deeds, and even chided him a little.

"Aragorn was right! You had too much pride, cousin! To think that you could fight that thing to the very end..." And here he could say no more, and Frodo hugged him tightly, for tears were threatening to fall.

~ * ~ * ~

And so after his time with Merry, Frodo went to the King and reported to him the fulfillment of his task and punishment. And the King then went to Merry and indeed verified Frodo's claim.

But before he could do so, the Ring-bearer asked of him a boon. At first the King was loth to answer his request, for he said, "I know this captain of whom you speak. He has been healed once before and yet he slipped back into fevers. I doubt that I could heal him again."

But Frodo pressed him further and said, "You charged me to tell my story to someone who was willing to listen, and I did so. I now feel that if only I could tell my story once more, and the captain were to hear it, he might be helped. For if I could be forgiven for betraying the West through my weakness, then surely he could be forgiven for the death of his men while he bravely fought the enemy!"

And so the King relented, and he and the Ring-bearer went to the Houses of Healing.

Once more did Aragorn call the sick man forth from his evil dreams, and drew him into the land of the living. And when the captain saw King and Perian standing there, he forgot his troubles for a moment and gazed at the visitors in wonder.

"Is the war over, my King?" he asked. His voice was rough.

Aragorn knelt by his side and placed his hand on the man's forehead. "It is over. We are at peace. And I have brought here a messenger of hope for you. Listen to his story, for he has much to tell you - and you may find healing in the hearing of it."

Then, as the ever-faithful Tenegold sat nearby with a look of hope on his face, Frodo humbly told his tale. The Ring-bearer forbore from omitting any detail, even though he suffered from fear of censure from those who listened.

At last he rose, and Tenegold took his hand gratefully. "You have given my captain hope. Look! He stays with us and does not sink back into dreams. If ever I may repay you for your kindness, you need only give word."

But Frodo shook his head. "All I desire is to know if he is indeed healed. I will visit, and I will hope!"

~ * ~ * ~

The last rays of light were extinguished as the sun sank behind Mount Mindolluin, and dusk rose amongst the trees of the garden of the Houses of Healing. But the air was warm and sweet, and the gathering twilight did not trouble the four hobbits sitting or lying about on the grass.

Sam drew a cloak about his master's shoulders. "This should keep the chill off."

"I hardly need it, Sam!" Frodo said, smiling. "But I shall humour you. That's right, isn't it?"

Sam suddenly laughed. "Why, right you are. But you look a sight better than you did last time, if I may say so. And the weather is much better," he added, looking up through the many branches to the deepening of the clear sky.

"I hope we've seen the last of those spring winds," Pippin said. He cupped the bowl of his pipe for a moment, and a sudden glow appeared.

"Good idea," said Merry. He too brought out his pipe. "But do either of you have yours still? I imagine you don't."

"No," said Frodo regretfully, "unless Sam somehow saved his."

Sam shook his head. "Now, why didn't I remember. I knew that I had planned on getting one or two somehow from somewhere in this City, but it slipped my mind."

"They don't smoke here," said Pippin. "A sad thing, but..." and here he brought something out. "I borrowed this back from Gimli for tonight. I thought that you might want to have a smoke, and so asked him for it. I'm sorry I couldn't find another one."

Sam reached for it and handed it to Frodo. Frodo took it, looked at it curiously and felt the wide, flattened bowl. "Thank you, Pippin! But don't worry. Sam and I can share. We're used to sharing things."

Merry passed him the tobacco-pouch and Frodo filled and tamped the bowl. Soon he too took a deep draw, and a smile came to his face. He passed the pipe to Sam. "Cloaks, pipes and pipeweed. I shall be so spoilt, despite Aragorn's best efforts to keep me humble."

Sam made an inarticulate sound. Frodo looked at him.

"You haven't quite forgiven him yet, have you," said Merry with a chuckle. "Fancy the King having the temerity to call Frodo arrogant!"

Sam said nothing, but drew on the pipe. The embers glowed fiercely.

"You disagree with what he said, then?" said Frodo.

Sam dithered for a moment. "Not exactly."

"Accept it, Sam," Frodo said. He put his hand on Sam's knee. "I have."

"Then you don't feel guilty anymore, Frodo?" asked Pippin. He drew up his legs and balanced his chin on his knees. He looked at Frodo curiously, cautiously.

Frodo hesitated. Sam handed the pipe back to him and he took it absentmindedly. "I do," he said at last. "But I try not to let it rule me. And they have kept me so busy this past fortnight that I've had little time to think about it."

"Well," said Merry, and nudged Sam with his elbow, "look who's coming. Don't get angry, or you'll spoil the evening."

"I won't get angry," protested Sam, but he drew closer to Frodo, nonetheless.

The tall figure striding towards them was unmistakable in the dusk and an amused voice spoke. "Gimli told me of a truants' smoking party, and I thought that I might invite myself along. May I join you?"

"Of course!" said Pippin, with a sideways glance at Sam.

Aragorn settled his back against a tree and stretched his long legs out. "I assume that is Longbottom Leaf that you have there?"

"It is, no less," said Merry. Frodo handed him the pouch. "Give me your pipe and I'll fill it up for you."

"There's no need. I can fill it myself. But thank you."

Task done, he sat there in silence, and savoured the smell of pipeweed that drifted and curled about his head. After a few draws, he spoke. "How are you, Frodo? I haven't seen you for a week."

"I'm better," said Frodo.

"Considering they're working him as hard as they are," said Sam, and added suddenly "Aragorn. King. Elessar..." He floundered and was silent.

Aragorn smiled a little sadly. "The judgement is ended, Sam, and I consider myself first and foremost your friend, if you will have me. I know that I have offended you, but I hope that you may let it pass."

Sam looked down abashedly.

"And that is the same for all of you. When I am with you, I wish you to call me by whatever name seems most comfortable." And here he turned to Pippin: "but not when you are on duty!"

Pippin's eyes sparkled. "But I am not on duty now, ....Strider."

Frodo laughed. "And nor am I. But I find both Aragorn and Strider comfortable to be with."

"And for me," added Merry. "Ah, it has been a long way from Bree. You had better be careful, Strider. We know who you are and where you came from!"

Aragorn smiled, and a glint was in his eye. "And I expect no less."

And the five travellers sat then in companionable silence. Pippin lay down upon the grass while Sam rested his head against Frodo's knee. And the smoke from their glowing pipes rose up and mingled in the leaves above, while twilight gathered, and candles appeared through the windows of the Houses of Healing.

All was restful. All was quiet.

.

Epilogue to follow





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