CHAPTER 7: THE LADY’S GIFT

Sam carefully cradled in his hands the object he had retrieved from his pack, and looked at it lovingly. After a moment’s hesitation, he held it out to the elf prince, swallowing as he did so.

Legolas stared at it but made no move to take it.

“The Phial?” the elf asked in disbelief when he could speak again. “The Phial of the Lady? With the Light of Eärendil?”

Aragorn was no less taken aback, and his brows furrowed as he looked in disbelief at the beautiful glass phial that held a glow of its own. “But that was gifted to Frodo,” he said.

Sam nodded. “Aye, but he left it to me before he… he sailed, along with most of his other stuff,” the hobbit explained. “I’ve kept it safe, like all his things,” he said quietly, a note of sadness creeping into his voice as he wrapped his hands around the phial again. “They’re all I have left to keep me close to my master.”

“Of course,” Legolas murmured. “And I cannot imagine why the Lady –”

“She didn’t say anything much about it, if that’s what you’re wondering,” the hobbit said quickly, “except that you will need it.”

Legolas’ astonishment was almost palpable. “I will need it? What – ?”

“To keep your hopes up… so you can keep going… or something akin to that,” Sam said, anticipating the elf’s question. “That’s what she said, well… close to it, at least, and then – and then I woke up – all sudden-like – before there was anything else.”

Aragorn and Legolas sat in mystified silence, each wondering why the Lady would have thought it important enough to reach out to Sam across the Sea and bid him deliver the Phial to the elf. Did she mean he might succumb –   

“Now I can’t claim to know more than what I was told,” Sam broke into their thoughts, “but… seein’ as you’re all shook up, Legolas, I’m thinking maybe… she wanted to help you with the Sea-feeling… so you won’t give up… if that makes sense.”

Man and Elf exchanged another look. Was the desire to sail more perilous than either of them realized? Would Legolas now need the Phial to resist it? No answer came readily, but they soon found out that Sam had been pondering a different question.

“I talked to myself, I did,” the hobbit confessed, “‘Sam’, I said, ‘why would such a Great Lady ask you to carry a message?’” He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it’s ’cause I’m the one holding the Phial.”

Aragorn gave him a small smile. “Do not think so little of your worth, my friend,” he countered, and Legolas nodded in agreement. “Few can rival the value of your deeds during the Quest.” He smiled again as Sam turned red with embarrassment.

“To be honest… I’d been a wee bit afraid to come to you with this,” the hobbit confessed sheepishly. “You might think I’d fallen off a tree and hit my head, cookin’ up this daft story –”

“Far from it, my friend,” Legolas interrupted, “we would never think that of you.”

“Certainly not, Sam,” Aragorn concurred. “We do not doubt that you saw the Lady in a dream, but you, too, are likely to have wondered if perhaps that was all it was – just a dream?” he suggested.

The brown curls jiggled as Sam shook his head, his embarrassment forgotten. “That was what I told myself at first, ’cause I thought I’d heard wrong or something; she was standing a-ways from me, see?” he said, “but no more after the second time.”

Incredulity gripped Legolas again as he asked: “Another dream?”

“Aye, a second time,” the hobbit answered. “No mistakin’ it now, I said to myself. I can’t say as I haven’t cracked my head as well, trying to figure it out. I did, till it hurt somethin’ awful.” Sam sighed and held the phial out again. “All I can think of is the Sea-feeling… I don’t know any more than what my head can cook up, but I do know what she told me to do, so – here, take it anyway. I hope it will do you some good – and I hope you’re not too vexed that it’s come this late.”

Legolas shook his head, and there was clear reluctance in his eyes. “Sam –” he began.

“Much as I hate to part with this, Legolas, even more do I fear not minding what the Lady ordered,” Sam insisted. “But – if you don’t mind – would you just borrow it, and maybe… return it… when you’re done with it?”

Aragorn looked at the wide eyes and hopeful expression on Sam’s face, then at Legolas, whose own gaze was unwaveringly focused on the hobbit before him. Conflicting emotions – wonder, doubt, gratitude – flitted across the fair face before the elf reached out to gently take the Phial from Sam.

“I thank you, dear Sam, for this consolation,” Legolas said with sincerity in his voice. “The only reason I am accepting this – borrowing this – is the same as yours: it would be wise to heed the words of the Lady, even if the purpose is still unclear. If the Phial is indeed meant to help me, rest assured – I will take the utmost care of it, and will return it to its rightful owner as soon as we are back in Minas Tirith.”

The hobbit nodded, took in a deep breath and released it, as if he was relieved to have carried out some difficult task. Then he looked carefully at Legolas. “Seeing as you have it in your hands now… do you feel any better?”

Aragorn turned to study the face of the elf prince as well, and he noted an unreadable expression there. Then a small smile lit the elven features.

“Anyone blessed with a gift of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn is certain to benefit from it,” he said carefully, “and once again, you have my thanks.”

Aragorn knew from Legolas’ tone – and from close acquaintance with his manner – that the elf had phrased his answer to please Sam, and the hobbit seemed glad enough, for his round face brightened a little.

“Well then, I’d best make my way back to the deck,” he said, standing up and picking up his pack. “If the ship can’t be on solid ground, I’d feel a lot better if I could see what it is on – if you know what I mean.”

Aragorn chuckled lightly and Legolas smiled as the hobbit made to move off, and after a last lingering look at the Phial – now resting reverently in elven hands – he retraced his steps to the winding stairs.

When Sam had disappeared from view, Man and Elf turned to each other. Neither spoke for a while, but each knew the question in the other’s mind.

“You know as much or as little as I do, Estel,” Legolas said, “but this I will say, though I did not want to voice it in front of our friend: I do not think it is what he guessed.”

“What do you mean?” Aragorn asked.

“I do not believe this is to help diminish my… yearning.”

“No?” Aragorn asked, raising one eyebrow.

Legolas shook his head. “Nay, I do not think so,” he asserted. “If anything, Estel, this Phial – with the Light of the Mariner captured in it – would only, if I allowed it to, intensify the desire in me to sail, would it not?”

Aragorn took a moment to answer. “That does sound reasonable,” he said thoughtfully, “I sensed something amiss when you assured Sam it would help you; now I know you were merely putting his kind heart at ease.”

When Legolas smiled and nodded his confirmation, Aragorn spoke again. “But now we are back to the question: why would the Lady charge Sam with handing it to you, and – more importantly – what would you need it for?”

Legolas did not reply at once, but sat cradling the Phial in his hands. He then raised it slowly to hold it before his face, to study it with undisguised wonder, and as he did so, Aragorn gave a small gasp.

They were sitting in front of a round port hole, and whether by chance or design, there now poured through it a ray of sunshine that fell on the elven countenance, and then – just as quickly – a dark cloud passed over and cut off the brightness of day, throwing them both in deep shadow.

But here, where but a single ray of the Light of Eärendil had been captured by one of the most powerful Eldar of all the Ages, even that single drop of starlight dispelled the gloom with its unrivalled radiance. And when the Phial – held delicately between the slender fingers of a Firstborn – cast its clear gleam on a wondrously fair face framed by a halo of gold, Aragorn felt he was watching, all at once, the magnificent rising of Anor, and the soft glow of Ithil, and the subtle glitter of all the stars in the night sky. Their beams were silken threads of pure light, woven into a fabric of soft brilliance. Here, before his eyes, was a vision of splendor revealed to him alone – a vision he was sure he would witness but few times in his life. 

The breath of the Adan caught in his throat, and speech was a forgotten skill. Every question surrounding the meaning of the Lady’s message to Sam was – at that instant – a distant memory. At that moment, all Aragorn could think of was how glad he was that he would not live to see the day when all the beauty of the Fair Folk, and all the magical charm that exuded from their very presence, would be forever gone from Middle-earth, for there was at least one of them – the same ethereal being in the vision before him – who had given his promise to stay until his own mortal end.

 “Estel?” The voice of the elf prince jolted him from his thoughts, and his eyes focused on the elven face with slight concern written in the features. “Are you all right? You looked… robbed of breath.”

At that reminder, Aragorn drew in a deep lungful of air and released it before he smiled shakily. I very nearly was, mellon nin, he replied silently so as not to alarm his friend. And when he spoke, it was in a voice full of hushed reverence.

“If all moments in Middle-earth could be like the one that just passed, Legolas,” he said, “I – and all Men – would find light and enchantment enough to counter all the foulness that threatens to taint and blacken our lives.” And he finished that cryptic message with a soft smile that reflected his awe, leaving the elf to wonder at what he meant.

Then – suddenly – Legolas tensed.

“‘A light in dark places when all other lights go out’,” he breathed, catching Aragorn unawares.

The man knitted his brows. “What –?”

“That is what the Lady said of this Gift: a light in dark places when all other lights go out,” the elf repeated. “And that is why she gave it to Frodo during the Quest: to light his way when all around was dark.”

Man and Elf sat in the shadow of the cloud and looked at the Phial again, silent thoughts racing through their minds once more.

“I feel it holds a purpose beyond today, Estel,” Legolas said slowly. “Beyond this Sea-longing, beyond our present knowledge. I think the Lady knows…” The elf turned to look at Aragorn, “there may be darker days ahead. And she sent this as a warning – and an aid.”

A little color left Aragorn’s face at those words, and his mouth felt dry again. “For you, Legolas?” he croaked, the very notion of something befalling his friend distressing him.

“I know not, Estel, we will have to wait and see,” the elf replied calmly. “And be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” Aragorn asked, consternation in his voice. “How do we prepare for something we don’t know –”

At that moment, the same thought struck both Man and Elf as they recalled a similar remark Aragorn had made in frustration only two days ago, when they had been discussing his restless nights and strange dreams:

How do I battle a foe that I cannot identify? What path would it have me tread?

The two friends looked at each other, sharing a recollection about the muffled voices and vague images that had visited Aragorn – all the more darkly disturbing because they were as yet without shape or name. And like a flame that suddenly flares in the dark to reveal something vaguely sinister, a suspicion entered both their minds as they questioned whether the Phial had truly been meant to help Legolas face the Sea-longing – or for some other purpose.

“A light to keep me going? So I will not give up…?” Legolas said softly as he recalled Sam’s words. His brows knitted in puzzlement and his elven eyes searched the grey ones of the King as if he could find insight there. “So I won’t lose –”

The blue eyes suddenly lit up and widened, and the elf stood abruptly, his hands gripping the Phial. Before Aragorn could even wonder what was happening, Legolas had turned and, in a flash, crossed the chamber to run up the winding steps to the deck above, leaving the man to dash after him in bewilderment.

When Aragorn emerged onto the deck, the elf was already – and rather hastily – leading Sam away from the rest of the party gathered there. An astonished Gimli looked at Aragorn and pointed a stubby finger at Legolas and Sam, spluttering: “What in peat blazes –?”

The King noted the looks of surprise on the faces of the other hobbits and his son, and signaled to them to be patient while he strode over to where Legolas – bent over so that he could look Sam in the eye – was asking the hobbit a question. The wind was blowing golden and brown hair into the faces of Elf and Hobbit as they talked, but it could not mask the concern in Legolas’ eyes or the bafflement in Sam’s as he faced the uncharacteristically taut elven features.

“What exactly did she say, Sam? Was there anything else?” Legolas prompted, his whole stance bespeaking a tense anxiety.

“Nothin’,” Sam replied earnestly, a little shaken by the sense of urgency in the elf’s tone. “She said you would need it – nothing more than what I’ve told you!”

“To help keep my hopes up? That is all? Sam, are you certain?”

“As certain as I can be about something in a dream,” Sam insisted in exasperation. “Well… it sounded like you would need it awful bad… I got the feeling that you would need it so you wouldn’t get drowneded… or become despaired… or something like that. Isn’t that about this Sea-feeling you have – so you can keep going?”

Aragorn keenly observed the doubt that still lay in Legolas’ eyes as the elf pressed further: “What were her exact words, Sam? Please – try to recall them clearly!” 

“It was a dream – nothin’s that clear in dreams! I didn’t set great store by the exact words!” the hobbit said desperately. He was clearly perturbed at the elf’s persistence, and Aragorn stepped closer to him and placed a comforting hand on his plump shoulder.

“Did she mention Aragorn?” Legolas queried, his tone still crisp with apprehension. “Did she say anything at all about him?”

“No, no, that I remember clear as a bell,” Sam replied firmly. “Only you – ”

“But what were her exact words?” Legolas pressed on, clearly not convinced.

Aragorn squeezed the disconcerted hobbit’s shoulder. “Try to remember, Sam, it’s important,” he said quietly as the round eyes looked up at him. The man did not know if this questioning would yield anything, but he trusted that Legolas knew what he was doing.

“Forgive me, Sam,” the elf prince said in both an apology and a plea, “but – please – we really need to know.”

Sam furrowed his brows and looked away, clearly trying to recollect details, while Man and Elf waited expectantly. Gimli and the others approached them slowly, but stopped a little distance away, not wishing to intrude into something they knew nothing about as yet.

Then Sam took a deep breath and turned back to Legolas. “Well, if it’s really that important to remember…” he began hesitantly, “Her meaning was for you to carry on, Legolas, not give up… but I think… I think she said: ‘He will need it… um… he will need it to keep his spirits up’… No, that’s not it…”

Legolas was no longer breathing by now, as his senses screamed that Sam was close to recollecting what exactly he had heard.

The hobbit’s eyes widened suddenly. “She said: ‘He will need it so he won’t lose hope,” he said triumphantly. “No – wait… wait! Samwise, was your head all fogged up? What were you thinking?” he berated himself.

Legolas felt he would snap from the tension.

“What she said,” Sam began again, “What she said was… you’ll need to keep your hopes up… no, alive, alive! – that’s it! You’ll need it to keep hope alive! That’s what she said: ‘He will need it to keep hope alive!’”

Happy that he had been able to provide the answer Legolas wanted, Sam grinned and turned his head first to Aragorn and then the elf, expecting to see satisfaction on their faces – for whatever reason they wanted the information.

But when he looked up, all he saw were two friends looking at each other in an uneasy silence. Aragorn’s hand had fallen weakly off his shoulder, and Legolas had straightened up, a grim expression on his fair features.

He will need it to keep hope alive.

The warning raced through the minds of Man and Elf as their eyes locked.

Hope was Estel.

Estel was Aragorn.

Legolas would need the Phial – but not for himself as the King had thought. If the Lady’s warning held true, then – for whatever reason, at some yet unforeseen time and place, in some yet unknown circumstance – he would need the Light of Eärendil to keep his friend from… death.

Ai, Elbereth…

The elf felt as if his legs would buckle beneath him, and a chill surged through him as he paled with fear for Aragorn.

Note:  I declared at the beginning of this story that some parts of this story may be AU. The Phial being left to Sam is one of them. In the books, (sadly enough) Frodo took the Glass of Galadriel with him when he sailed. I wish that Light had been left in Middle-earth, but I guess it is in a far better place.