The song in this chapter is from The Return of the King, and Bilbo’s poetry is from The Fellowship of the Ring.

THE THREE TOWERS

Chapter 9 --  Until the Stars Are All Alight

“I can hardly believe it,” said Frodo, clutching him.  “There was an orc with a whip, and then it turns into Sam!  Then I wasn’t dreaming after all when I heard that singing down below, and I tried to answer?  Was it you?”  ‘The Tower of Cirith Ungol’, The Return of the King

**

June 1

Sam, Aragorn, and Alcaren stood at the bottom of the ladder, glancing uneasily at one another in the flickering light of the torches.  There was no sound from the turret room, and the dark opening gaped ominously above them.

“Mr. Frodo?” Sam called up cautiously.  When there was no response, he simply started up the ladder.

“Just wait,” Aragorn said to Alcaren.  “Sam will know how to handle... whatever is happening.”

A minute passed.  Two.  All at once, the Men were surprised to hear something quite unexpected.

“Though here at journey’s end I lie
in darkness buried deep,
beyond all towers strong and high,
beyond all mountains steep...”

“Is Sam... singing?” Alcaren asked in amazement.

“...above all shadows rides the Sun
and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell.”

Silence.  Then there was a murmur of soft voices.

“Frodo must be in a bad way,” Aragorn said, concerned.  “Sam must have needed to call him back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Strider?” Sam’s voice floated down to them.

Aragorn and Alcaren quickly placed their torches into wall brackets, then Aragorn led the way up the ladder.  When Alcaren stepped into the turret room, lit only faintly by starlight, Aragorn grasped his sleeve and pulled him to one side.

“Just stay quiet and still,” Aragorn whispered.  “Sam wants us to wait.”

As Alcaren’s eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, he realized that, against the far wall, two small shapes sat huddled on the dusty floor.  Frodo was curled in Sam’s arms, holding his left side as if in pain... and Sam was rocking his master gently.

“I couldn’t stop them, Sam,” Frodo sobbed.  “How could I fight them?  What could I do?”

“Nothing, sir.  No one expected you to fight ’em, or do anything more than you did.”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Frodo whispered.  “Even though I didn’t have any hope left, I still didn’t tell.”

“I know you didn’t.  Are you feelin’ any better now, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked anxiously.

“I’m cold, but all right,” Frodo said.  “I’m just aching and weary, and... oh Sam, they took it!  They must have taken it!”

“The Ring, sir?” Sam asked, confused.  “But Mr. Frodo, don’t you remember---”

“Where is it?” Frodo asked, clutching at Sam desperately.  “Did you... do you have it, Sam?  Didn’t you have it?”

“Sam,” Alcaren said suddenly, “give him this.  Perhaps it will help.”  He reached down his shirt and pulled out a plain gold ring hung on a silver chain.  He pulled the chain over his head and undid the clasp.

“When my wife died, I could no longer bear to wear this,” Alcaran explained to Aragorn and Sam, removing the marriage band from the chain.  “But I could not bear to be without it, either.  Perhaps Frodo may find some comfort in it.”  He came within an arm’s length of where the hobbits sat, gave Sam the ring, then stepped back.  Sam nodded gratefully, but Frodo seemed not to be aware of anyone else in the room.

“Here, sir,” Sam said softly, handing Frodo Alcaren’s ring.  “Put this away where it’ll be safe.”

Frodo took the ring and sighed with relief, pushing it into a deep pocket.  “Thank you, Sam,” he murmured.  “I can go on, now.”

“Strider,” Sam said worriedly, “what do we do?  He’s... like Gandalf said, he’s in both places, I think.”

“Let me see if I can assist,” Aragorn said, walking slowly to where the hobbits sat.  “Frodo...” He knelt in front of Frodo and held out his hands.  “Dear friend, do you know me?”

Frodo looked up and gasped as a large, shadowed form hovered over him.  In desperation, he pressed back against Sam and quickly reached inside his weskit, drawing forth the phial gifted to him by Galadriel.  The room was suddenly ablaze with light.  Alcaren looked around, dazzled.

Sam stared at Aragorn’s emerald brooch as it reflected and magnified the phial’s radiance.  “Oh Mr. Frodo, isn’t it beautiful?  Don’t you know Strider?  And here’s Alcaren.  You’re safe, sir.  It’s all over and done.”  He had tears streaming down his face.  “The orcs are gone, and you’re safe, and they can’t hurt you ever again.  Mr. Frodo?”

Frodo seemed mesmerized by the sight before him; the air around them was full of shining stars, glittering with a pure, fresh green, sparkling gold, and clear white.  The facets of a beautiful gem filled his vision.  An emerald... He was back in Lord Elrond’s Hall of Fire, listening to Bilbo’s dear voice...

his sword of steel was valiant,
of adamant his helmet tall,
an eagle-plume upon his crest,
upon his breast an emerald.

An emerald.  Aragorn wears that now.  I saw the Lady give it to him.  Frodo slowly felt the fear and confusion drain out of him, as if absorbed by the lights dancing before his eyes.  The pain in his side faded, and his mind cleared as he looked up at the King’s face.  “Aragorn?”

“Yes,” Aragorn said softly.

“Mr. Frodo, are you all right?”

“I... think so,” Frodo said slowly.  Sam was holding him, and the phial blazed, and Aragorn’s smiling face was before him.  It’s over.  He took several deep breaths, and Sam felt his master relax.

“I knew you needed to be here, Strider,” Sam said, his eyes shining.  “Back in the City -- I just knew it.”

“So you did,” Aragorn remembered.

“What a frightening experience,” Frodo said.  “I knew I was only seeing memories, but they were so real.  It was happening all over again...”  His innate curiosity suddenly overriding all else, he held the phial closer to the brooch, fascinated.  Frodo touched the emerald gently, his eyes as brilliant as the sparkling jewel.  ““My goodness, that’s amazing, Aragorn.  Is there some magic to this?”

“I’m beginning to wonder about that, myself,” Aragorn chuckled, enveloping both Frodo and Sam in a hug.

“What time is it?” Frodo asked.  He wiped a sleeve over his tear-stained face.

“Nearly sunrise,” Alcaren said.  He knelt and opened his pack, drawing out a water bottle, cloak, and blanket.  He handed the bottle to Frodo.

“Thank you,” Frodo said gratefully, taking a long drink.  He put away the phial and started to get up, then winced and thought better of it.

“How are you feeling, you stubborn hobbit?” Aragorn asked.  He gently touched Frodo’s feet, which were slightly swollen.

“I’m sorry, Aragorn,” Frodo said quietly.  “I’ve undone all the healing.”

“Your feet will heal again, once you stay off them as you should,” Aragorn assured him.  “And you will stay off them, mark my word.”  He took the cloak and blanket from Alcaren, and shook them out.

“Can you tell us what you experienced tonight?” Alcaren asked.

“I can’t talk about it quite yet.  I need to think about some things, and get them sorted out...” Frodo yawned, and realized that he was shaking with cold.

“Take all the time you need.”  Aragorn wrapped Frodo warmly before gathering him up and getting to his feet.

“Oh Sam,” Frodo sighed, “I heard your song and tried to follow.  I didn’t know what was a dream, and what was the past, and what... was real.  Thank you for coming after me – both times.  What would I have done without you?”

“But sir,” Sam burst out, “I couldn’t protect you from all those awful things.  I let that spider get you, and then the Orcs were off with you before I could---”

“Sam,” Frodo said firmly, “you did everything you could.  Everything.  And... so did I.”  He seemed surprised by his own words.  “I lost hope in this room... and found it again, thanks to you.”

Aragorn smiled.  “It sounds to me as if coming up here helped you to find more healing than you lost.”   He carried Frodo down the ladder, then waited while Alcaren and Sam descended.

“Sam,” Alcaren said, “you must be weary, as well; those stairs were not built for hobbit legs.  Will you allow me to assist you?”

Sam started to shake his head, but suddenly realized how cold and tired he was.  “All right,” he said.  “Thank you, sir.”

Alcaren reached into his pack and produced a second blanket that he had brought in case it was needed.  Before Sam could protest, he was wrapped in it and lifted gently.

“We won’t need the torches any longer,” Aragorn said.  It was dawn, and the first pale rays of sunlight began to filter through the windows.  “By the way, Sam, when did Bilbo translate that song?”

“Sir?”

“The tune you were singing is unfamiliar to me,” Aragorn explained, “but the words are from a very ancient song.  I assumed that Bilbo translated it, and taught it to you.”

“No, sir,” Sam shook his head.  “I hadn’t ever heard those words before.  They just... came to me when we were here before.”

“And to me,” Frodo said.

“Why do words come into our heads sometime, even when we haven’t learned them?” Sam asked curiously.

“That is a very good question,” Aragorn chuckled.  “There are many questions hobbits ask which I cannot answer.”

“That sounds like something Gandalf would say,” Frodo murmured drowsily.

“You need some sleep,” Aragorn told him.

“My feet are throbbing so... I’m not sure I’ll be able to,” Frodo admitted.

Sam heard Aragorn ask Frodo something in a soft voice, then whisper a few words in what sounded like some sort of Elvish chanting.

They were halfway down the long staircase when Merry came pelting up the steps, followed closely by Pippin.  They both gasped with relief when they saw the two Men.

“Where’s Frodo?  And Sam?” Merry cried.  He suddenly realized that both Aragorn and Alcaren had a hobbit in their arms.  “They’re not hurt, are they, Strider?”

“I’m here, Mr. Merry,” Sam said from his perch in Alcaren’s arms.

“Is Frodo all right?  He tried to sneak off again, didn’t he?”  Pippin stood on tiptoe, trying to peek into the blanket-wrapped bundle that Aragorn was holding.  “You silly Baggins, are you in there?”

“He’s sound asleep,” Aragorn replied.  “He’s been through quite a bit, but will be fine.”

“Did you help him fall asleep?” Merry asked shrewdly.  “Just a little?”

“Just a little,” Aragorn said with a smile.  “I did ask permission this time.”

“It has been a long night,” Alcaren observed.  “Some sleep will be welcome.”

“I agree,” Aragorn said.  “Sir Peregrin, after the morning meal, perhaps you can see to it that the Men are somewhat quiet so that we may rest?”

“I’ll guard the door myself,” Pippin declared solemnly, standing tall.  Even though the young hobbit was short of breath and his hair was rumpled, Alcaren could see the dignity and maturity in the small form.

“Strider,” Merry asked as they started down, “what happened?  Does Frodo remember everything?”

“He now remembers everything that is important to him,” Aragorn said, gazing into the peaceful face of the hobbit sleeping in his arms.  “When he has rested and thought about his experience, I believe he will share with us what he learned.”

“Alcaren,” Sam said, looking up at the Man, “don’t worry about your ring, sir.  You’ll get it back.”

“I am not concerned, Sam,” Alcaren assured him.  “Frodo will return it when he is ready.”

“What ring?” Pippin asked.  “Merry, we keep missing everything.”

** TBC **

Andrea:  Yes, Aragorn was quite diplomatic in describing Frodo’s stubborn nature!  But a tenacious hobbit makes for a formidable Ringbearer.  And I like thinking about Aragorn as a “father” to his people.  They will truly love him, I think.

Antane:  I delayed writing this story for a long time because I knew it would be an angsty one.  But I think the worst is over, now.  Whew!  And I hope you liked the “hobbity reunion” you were hoping for.  More hobbity scenes are on their way.

aprilkat:  Sam was right, way back in Chapter 2 – Aragorn definitely needed to be with Frodo on this journey.  They all did.

Baggins Babe:  I’m sure there are plenty of really angsty Cirith Ungol stories out there, but I couldn’t take this any further than I did.  Back to hobbityness, quick!

Coriandra:  Thank you for reading!  Yes, Frodo is lucky to have such friends; they’d never let him down.

Cuthalion:  I’m glad you like my guardsmen!  I never used to even attempt writing OC’s, but I’m trying to be braver.  I’m afraid Horatio Hornblower is one of the classics I’ve missed – but I’ll try to see it someday.

Dreamflower:  You’re right in that Frodo is in for a scolding – but a loving one.

Elanor Silmariën:  Frodo’s friends (and I) would never let anything too serious happen to him.  :D

Endaewen:  Yes, look what this angsty story did to me!  Cliffhangers everywhere you look...

Frodo Baggins:  I could never write anything with angst (especially for Frodo) unless there was plenty of TLC.

harrowcat:  Thank you for trusting me!  And I wish I had Aragorn’s memory for names and faces, too; I have to meet someone several times before I remember their name.

Larner:  Yes, it’s quite liberating to be able to sprinkle a bit of movie-verse into a story when possible, and it also builds a bridge for folks who haven’t yet read the books.

lbilover:  Thank you so much for saying that this is “touching”.  I’m exploring very strong feelings in this story, but always hoped that respect and caring would come through the strongest.

Lily:  I think we’ve finally reached the end of the cliffhangers, Lily (the evil ones, anyway).  Some stories just lend themselves to more suspenseful chapters than others.

Lily Baggins:  Thank you so much, and I’m sorry to be putting you through so much evilcliffhangeryness.  And oh yes, Frodo’s tender feet... Perhaps Aragorn should be a bit stern! with him in the next chapter?

Linda Hoyland:  Aragorn is a wonderful person, isn’t he?  He waited a very long time for his destiny to be fulfilled, and I can well imagine the marvelous king he became.

Pearl Took:  Someone once said, “If they fear you they will fight for you, but if they love you, they will die for you.”  A king who is loved will have a much stronger kingdom than one who is feared.

Periantari:  Wrapping Frodo in a blanket... yes, that’s just what he needed!

puppypersonLOTR:  I suspect that it took Gondor awhile to grasp the fact that the King had returned... and that he was a ruler unlike any they had ever imagined.  Eee, forgive me for the evil cliffies!  I think we’ve finally seen the last of them.

Queen Galadriel:  I first read the LOTR books nearly 30 years ago, and my favorite character was Frodo-and-Sam.  I just never imagined either of them without the other.  I think Frodo gave Sam purpose and helped him to grow as a person, and Sam gave Frodo a practical to-the-death friend and protector.

SlightlyTookish:  I like imagining how Aragorn would have appeared to the Gondorians.  He had a chance to learn the best ways to rule others from observing Elrond, Ecthelion and Théoden... and the worst ways, from observing Denethor.

SurgicalSteel:  Alcaren continues to surprise me – I never dreamed he would play such a large role in this story, and in Frodo’s recovery.