A/N:  My deep thanks once more to my dear Elemmire for giving another jump start to this story! :)

Chapter Thirteen: A Decision Made

Gandalf stayed another two weeks, often helping Frodo out in the garden. The Gamgees continued to come to make sure the troubled hobbit was taken care of, though they had few words to share with Gandalf. The rest of Hobbiton had no words. They avoided the entire Row and Bag End in particular for it was rumored that the place was haunted. Strange lights and a ghostly figure had been seen. The isolation suited Frodo just fine. He didn’t want to deal with others right now when his heart was still a mess. Merry and Pippin had come and stayed a few days then left again. Frodo missed them, but even their loving presence was almost too much.

Gandalf remained unobtrusive as Sam had always been, guiding and helping Frodo along as best he could. They took many long walks, the hobbit’s hand in his friend’s as trusting as a child, in which they had talks that continued to help heal the tortured Ring-bearer, but still the wizard felt there was something holding Frodo back from completely healing.

"Does Bilbo know about Sam’s death?" Gandalf asked on one of those walks.

Frodo sighed. "No, at least not from me. I so want to see him again, but I can’t bear to face him. What would he think of me?"

"The same, I would think, that everyone else does. He would still love you."

"I still don’t know how anyone could. They couldn’t if they had been there and saw what I did."

Gandalf stopped and waited until Frodo looked up at him. "My dear hobbit," he began with a gentle smile, "even you weren’t there, not truly. The malice and hatred of the Ring was the only thing present when Sam died. Sam knows that. I think you know it, though you still want to take responsibility. The others don’t know the terrible compulsion the Ring could sometimes force upon its bearers, but they do know you and what you are capable of and the type of heart you have, the same one they have loved all their lives or come to know on the Quest. I think the only person who doesn’t truly understand your heart is yourself."

Frodo looked long into his friend’s deep eyes, so full of compassion and love, then he looked away and they started walking again. "Is this adventure going to take as long as the last one and leave me worn out and wondering who I am anymore?"

"How long it lasts is up to you. I would think you would be quite tired, but no more than you are now, carrying this terrible burden of guilt around with you. It would instead be the fatigue of a hard day’s work well done. As for wondering who you are, I think at the end you would know."

They walked silently for a while. Frodo kicked up leaves and stared at the ground as he pondered his friend’s words. Gandalf watched him thoughtfully.

"Would you like to go to Rivendell, Frodo?" he asked softly. "It would be good for you to know that Bilbo has forgiven you, among all the others that have."

"You speak as if it’s already happened."

"You doubt it would?"

There was a pause then, "No, I suppose not. I’ve been forgiven for other things, though nothing anywhere this evil."

"Then why hold back?"

"It’s such a long way and I think it would be harder to tell him than anyone. He’s always been so proud of me, loved me so much. That I did such a monstrous thing as to murder someone we both loved, I think would be more than I can bear to tell him. I fear how he would look at me then, not with cheer and love, but with fear and revulsion, like...like I looked at him when he tried to take the Ring away from me."

"Yet you still loved him and he still loved you and you both knew it. He well knows the power of the Ring and how it can twist someone. Wouldn’t he understand best what you are feeling and forgive you as freely as you forgave him when the lust of it nearly had him attack you to view it once more?"

Frodo looked up sharply. "How do you know about that? I never told anyone about that. Did he tell you?"

"He told me before you left. He was nearly beside himself with guilt and shame. I was afraid he would have a brainstorm right there."

The Ring-bearer’s features darkened with grave concern. "Do you think he still feels that way? He shouldn’t still be suffering over that. It was the weakness of a moment and did no harm."

Gandalf smiled. "Sometimes it is harder for those who are filled with such goodness to be able to believe they are capable of such darkness, but it is a force that doesn’t come from within their own wills, but is pressed upon them from another. Neither you or I or anyone can go through this life and not make some mistakes, through weakness of will or mistakes in judgement. But never to forgive ourselves is another mistake. He is still recovering himself from the damage done to him by the Ring as you are."

"Then I should go to him and try to help him."

"And maybe then he can help you."

"Maybe."