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An Alphabet for Middle-earth  by Dreamflower

 Rating: G
Summary: Sam meets Someone…

V: LIKE A VISITING VARDA

It was the smell of things that helped Sam remember, before he opened his eyes--the scent of growing things, the perfume of grass and sunshine was overlaid by the fragrance of the sea on the breeze. He had arrived in the West, and was here on the Blessed Isle, reunited once more with his best friend.

“Sam, dear?” and at the gentle delight in his friend’s voice, he opened his eyes to the most wonderful sight.

Frodo sat next to him, his own face now just as old and limned with laughter and years as Sam’s, his once dark hair as silver as mithril. But there was no longer the furrow of pain and fear upon his brow, and his blue eyes still held hard-won wisdom, but no more the glint of fear and guilt and sorrow. They looked upon Sam now with fond amusement.

The two of them sat alone upon a grassy knoll, beneath a sky blazing with stars--more brilliant than Sam ever had seen them in the Shire, or even as he had sailed here over the Sea. He glanced about--they seemed to be quite alone.

“Where is everyone?” Sam looked about, for when he had fallen asleep they had been in the midst of a welcoming crowd of Elves, including many good friends.

Frodo took Sam’s hand. “They have withdrawn, out of respect for one who has come to see *you*.”

Sam looked at Frodo in confusion, for he’d seen no one else, but Frodo stood, and drew him up by one hand, and then, his face lighting up in delight, he bowed. Sam turned, and his eyes wide and his face blazing, he bowed somewhat awkwardly himself.

She was beautiful, more beautiful than Queen Arwen, more beautiful than the Lady Galadriel or the Lady Celebrian, whom Sam had met for the first time three days before. Her hair was a cloud of darkness, that blew behind her and blended with the night sky, and seemed to be dewed with the stars. Her raiment shimmered and her eyes were deep and dark and full of love.

“Arise, Iorhael and Perhael! I greet thee!” Her mouth did not move, rather Sam heard her voice in his head and heart, like the sweetest of music.

“A Elbereth Gilthoniel!” And Sam realized that neither had Frodo’s mouth moved. Yet this did not cause him any fear. His own mouth felt dry and incapable of any sound. He swallowed. “My Lady!” he finally managed to whisper.

There was a sound of music in Sam’s heart, and he realized that he heard the Lady’s laughter.

“Long have I desired to greet thee, Perhael, as I greeted Iorhael when he came.”

“M-me?” Sam stammered.

Again there was the beautiful music of her laughter. “I wished to thank thee, Perhael.”

Sam could feel her reading his confusion. What would the Lady of the Stars be thanking *him* for?

“As did Iorhael, in calling upon me when thou wert in direst straits and by that calling, allowed me to help thee, as I could not have without thy plea. Thus I was permitted to send thee Light, and in so doing, helped to foil the Foe.”

“Oh.” Sam blushed once more.

Again he felt the gentle chiming of her laughter. He ducked his head, abashed, and when he looked up again, she had vanished.

He glanced over at Mr. Frodo, tears of joy blurring his vision. “I can’t believe I met *Her,*--” he hesitated, and took a deep breath, “--Frodo.” There, he’d done it, finally, and after all these years.

Frodo gave a laugh, a hearty one from deep within, such as Sam had never heard from him before. “Oh, my Sam! I’m so glad you are here with me at last!”





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