Chapter Sixteen:  Claim

Gandalf found Frodo the following afternoon alone in the study as the day was failing. The tea Sam had brought in earlier sat untouched and cold in its mug by his chair. The quill was in his hand but his eyes were staring sightlessly out the window. He was trembling slightly, even though a blanket was wrapped around him. There was no sign that he heard the happy shrieks of his cousins as they engaged Aragorn and Faramir in another snowball fight.

The wizard approached quietly and gently placed his hand on his dear friend’s shoulder. He stood there silently until Frodo spoke softly. “I can still see the Fire, smell the smoke, taste the ash. That is all that is left to me. I wish I could feel its heat.”

Gandalf squeezed his shoulder, seeking to warm his friend. “No, my dear one, that is not all. You are in your winter now, but spring will come, and then summer. You fought for every step you took to Mordor. Now you must fight to get back. Don't surrender to the pain that haunts you. The Ring stole so much from you, but you can fight to get it back. I know you are weary, but don't let that steal what joy you can still have. Don't let it have the final victory.”

“I wouldn’t do that to my Sam. He fought so hard, nearly died, to keep me going. I will go on to honor his efforts. But I wonder how I can do it. I have spent all my energy fighting the darkness that every day threatens to consume me. Maybe I am as cracked as they say. The dreams I have had are so real that I feel I am back on the Quest. I have wondered if our rescue and return to Bag End, and even you, were but a sweet dream, and that I shall wake up in the black land to find the Ring still about my neck. Or, what's worse, that I have completely surrendered to the Dark Lord, and that I shall wake up to find the Ring upon his finger. Sometimes I do not know which is reality. I am not sure of anything anymore.”

Gandalf reached down and gently lifted the troubled Ring-bearer out of his chair and carried him to the nearby couch where he tenderly held him in his lap, blanket and all. “Does this feel real to you, my friend?”

Frodo buried his face in the wizard’s chest and wrapped his arms tight around him. “Yes.”

The hidden Maia brushed at his friend’s curls. “I wish to assure you most fully, my beloved hobbit, that you are not dreaming. You sleep in your own bed, take meals in your own dining room, sit at your favorite chair in the parlor or the study and soon enough, you will be propped up against your favorite tree, reading or reciting your favorite Elvish poetry. The Quest is over, my friend. You are back home. The burden you still carry may take you back to that nightmare of before, but you are truly here in the light and warmth of a reborn Shire. You can watch Sam in the garden; you can breathe the fresh, clean air; you can feel grass under your feet again. Listen now to the happiness of your brothers outside. It is all real. And it is so because of what you and Sam did. It is your successes that allowed Middle-earth to be saved, for the Free Peoples to still be free. Think of that when the dark dreams and doubts assail you. Concentrate on your Sam’s voice, and Rosie’s and all those in the Shire who can still laugh and sing because of you.”

Frodo did listen for a while to the happy sounds outside and a small smile graced his lips before disappearing again. “I wonder when I shall be able to sing again, if I ever shall.”

“You will, once the burden is removed from your heart,” Gandalf assured. “You took on a most heavy weight, even though you knew how much it had already hurt you and you knew or at least feared that you would be hurt more, but still you said ‘yes’ so no one else would be hurt if you could help it. You were terrified to the point of tears at times, but you knew what you had to do and did it. You were tired, cold and hungry, but you went on out of love. You were twisted inside out, but you fought against it and when you failed, you got up and fought again. When you no longer had the strength to walk, you crawled so great was your determination to fulfill your task. I have never loved you more than that moment. You were intent on saving everyone else even as you came to understand more and more that it would come at the cost of yourself. Still you went on. You were spent bit by bit on that journey, poured out as a living sacrifice. Your body seemed too small for all you had to endure, but not so your heart. You gave and gave and gave. You sacrificed everything so those you left behind at home wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything. The Ring did not spare your heart any more than it did your body, ripping it to shreds as it weakened your frame. Still you went on. You gave everything, my dear one, so we could all have everything.”

Frodo looked up his friend suspiciously.  "Have I been talking in my sleep again or have you been peaking in the book?”

Gandalf rejoiced in his heart that his troubled friend had enough energy to tease him.  He held Frodo's cheek and the Ring-bearer looked into his eyes and could see the smile and tender love there. “I’ve been looking into your heart, dear boy. And yes, you have been talking in your sleep, and no, I haven’t been peaking. A wizard does have his honor to protect.”

“You can peak, if you want,” Frodo said, leaning his head back down and seeking the strong rhythm of the wizard’s heart.

“I don’t need to, for you have said far more in your sleep than I think you will ever put in the book.”

“Have the others heard?”

“You have not always spoken in words that they can understand.”

Frodo shivered. “I heard his voice all the while and it was the most vile corruption of such a beautiful language. Have I been speaking in that?”

“Yes. But that is over now. You will not hear his voice again or will you speak it. You have been made clean again through Lady Este.”

“I felt different while I dreamed of that and while she held me, and I still do a little, but it’s not so real anymore. I am still tainted.”

Gandalf continued to stroke Frodo’s curls. “My most stubborn hobbit, I know you can’t see yourself right now as the hero you are. But know this, far from being a failure, do you have any idea how many people you have inspired to endure and press on through their own trails because of the model of your own perseverance, dedication and endurance? You have not even met most of them and they never met you. They died at the Black Gate to save you and you were ready to die to save all of Middle-earth. You couldn’t have made it without Sam, but Sam’s greatest motivation for helping you was his love for you which has only grown. I know you feel unclean, guilty and ashamed, but you are not an evil person. You are a good and beautiful one who had evil things done to you. You were violated, but you are not to blame. The Ring was the evil thing, not you. The very fact that you feel guilty is proof you are good, since an evil person would not feel the grief and shame you do now. Let that poison drain from you. I know you wish to shield your friends from your hurt, but they can already see it. They want to help you recover from it. You need to spend your energy doing that, not fighting to keep the pain and tears in.”

“I had hoped it would drain away with all the ink I’ve used. I used to be able to do that, but I’ve been too deeply hurt this time. It became part of me and now how fully I understand Smeagol’s agony. With it gone, part of me is gone. There is nothing left inside. It has taken everything. I have become a wraith at last.”

Gandalf kissed the top of his head. “No, my dear friend, you have not. A wraith cannot hold someone like you are now. Only hobbits can do that and blessed are those who can feel it. Part of you is gone, yes, but that is a part that was imposed upon you that is best gone. You will be filled again and yourself again, free of taint. A wraith does not have that hope, but you have been given it. Do you claim it?”

There was a long pause, then softly came the answer.

“Yes.”
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A/N: Most but not of all of Frodo’s words are from Frodo Baggins who used to contribute here but alas, has since left Middle-earth. Those words are taken from another story that she and I wrote together that is not posted here. I suspect more will be coming. You can guess which is which! :)

My thanks to all those who voted for this story in the MEFA’s: Larner, harrowcat, Kara’s Aunty (special thanks to you, dear cousin, for leaving the longest review!), Linda Hoyland, Raksha the Demon and to Mysterious Jedi for nominating it in the first place!  I am surprised and honored by its 1^st place finish!!