Chapter Thirty

Sam and Frodo sat at a table near the window of the sitting room playing a game of backgammon. Sam was winning, but then Sam usually did. He also tended to usually win at checkers. Frodo was wondering if he could at least even the odds by talking Sam into learning to play chess. Rosie and Linwe were sitting nearer the fire, sewing and chatting, their needles flickering in the light. It was what had come to be a typical evening in Bag End. After the dishes from the evening meal had been washed up and all of the chores for the day were finished the

The large round window had its two inset rectangular sections open to let in the soft evening breeze which smelled of wood smoke and the spicy scent of dry autumn leaves. Rosie inhaled deeply and sighed. "The air smells so wonderful tonight."

"Enjoy it while you can, Rosie Lass, this mild weather has been here longer than usual. We are over due for a change towards winter," said Sam.

"I know," sighed Rosie, "and the summer was so busy this year that I feel as though I hardly had a moments quiet to just sit and watch the flowers grow. Now here it is well into autumn, I have not had much chance to admire the colors of the leaves on the trees, and I doubt I ever will, there is simply too much to be done before winter sets in."

"You only have yourself to blame for it," said Linwe, "I seem to recall that several times this summer, Frodo and I very neatly arranged for the two of you to take a day to yourselves and each and every time you would end up agreeing to use the day helping someone else. The two of you should go off on your own tomorrow. There isn’t anything around here that can not wait for just one more day."

"We can’t go tomorrow," said Sam, "Frodo and I have to finish mulching the vegetable garden and pressing the rest of the apples for cider."

"Oh Sam, honestly!" Linwe said in exasperation. "You just named two things that could wait a week let alone a day. Rosie wants to go and see the leaves, don’t you Rosie?"

Rosie laughed, "Well yes, I do, but Linwe, really, Sam is right. There is an awful lot around here that needs to be done."

"Oh bother, Rosie, when isn’t there a lot to be done? The dead of winter when, and even then the two of you will find any number of things that you feel absolutely must not wait another day. You are going out tomorrow. I am personally going to pack you a huge basket of food. You will leave immediately after breakfast and you are not to speak to any Hobbits besides yourselves from the time you leave this hole till the time you get back."

Sam turned to Frodo and asked "How does she do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just decide things like that and somehow leaving no room for argument?"

Frodo smiled mischievously, "Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. I am sure that if you would rather not go, Linwe would understand."

"Tell me, Mr. Frodo, how many arguments have you won with her when she had herself so set?"

Frodo chuckled quietly, "As of today, not a single one. But that isn’t to say Linwe isn’t understanding. She is always considerate of other points of view. It’s just that somehow she always manages to make her point of view seem so much more reasonable."

~~~~~

The following morning Linwe was true to her word. By the time breakfast was ready a very large basket had been packed with enough food to keep a family of Hobbits fed for at least two days. Linwe then literally pushed Rosie and Sam out the door as they were still chewing on their last bits of toast.

Frodo and Linwe each went about doing their own tasks. Frodo went out to do some work in the garden Linwe stayed busy in the kitchen. When Frodo came in for second breakfast Linwe noticed that he was not quite himself. He was quiet during the meal staring out the kitchen window seemingly lost in thought and responding very little to Linwe’s attempts at conversation. Finally Linwe just sat and observed Frodo as she sipped her tea. She thought perhaps he looked a little pale, his mind was quite obviously somewhere else. When Linwe had finished her tea she got up and went around the table to where Frodo sat. Frodo appeared to take no notice of her until she put one arm around his shoulders and one hand on his forehead. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I am feeling your forehead to see if you are feverish."

"Why?"

"Because you are rather pale and withdrawn this morning. You have also barely touched your breakfast."

"I feel fine, I guess my mind is wanting to wander this morning."

"Wandering where?"

"No where in particular."

"I am still not completely satisfied, maybe you should rest today."

Frodo had taken Linwe’s hand into his during this exchange and had been admiring her long elegant fingers. He loved her hands and enjoyed watching their graceful movements. Now he kissed the back of her hand and smiled up at her. "Maybe I will take it slow this afternoon, but I promised Sam that I would finish mulching the vegetable garden. In fact I should go get to it now."

"Oh very well. But promise me that you will be careful."

Frodo chuckled, "It is only mulch, dear. I think I will manage to survive somehow."

Linwe watched Frodo go. He had smiled and chuckled but Linwe thought she had seen a shadow in his blue eyes. Linwe forcefully pushed the worry from her mind. There was no sense in fussing over it; if Frodo had something on his mind he would tell her when he was ready, or at least easily persuaded to tell her.

When it was time for elevenses, Linwe put the meal and a pitcher of apple cider on a tray and carried outside. She found Frodo standing in the middle of the vegetable patch with his back to her. He was not moving. "Frodo, it is time for elevenses." She called out but Frodo did not respond. Linwe felt a shiver of apprehension pass through her. She moved to within five feet of where he stood. "Frodo, did you hear me? I said…"

The next few moments passed in a blur. Frodo suddenly turned on Linwe brandishing his shovel like a weapon. Ready to strike her down, and nearly did. Linwe screamed. She threw the tray she was carrying away from her, put her arms over her head and crumpled to the ground into a tight protective ball. "Linwe," she heard Frodo cry. Her Frodo, not that being who had tried to attack her.

In the next instant , Frodo was kneeling on the ground next to her gathering her into his arms. She put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his hair and cried. Waves of fear, horror and shame washed over her. Frodo held Linwe tightly rocking her gently, back and forth, and cried as well. "It’s all right. Please don’t be frightened." two couples would spend some quiet time together before retiring to their own rooms. About once a week Sam and Frodo would go to the Green Dragon to share a pint of two with The Gaffer. This did not happen as often as used to be their habit of visiting the inn, but Sam had married his reason for being a frequent patron of the inn. Frodo just didn’t care for being in public all that much anymore, and besides he had Linwe at home now.

Linwe sniffed. "I will stop being frightened when you stop."

"I don’t know if I can. I nearly hurt you and that it very frightening."

Linwe pulled back a little and looked into Frodo’s eyes. "What happened Frodo?"

"I don’t know. Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"I’m fine. A little shaken is all. You are changing the subject. What happened? You did not answer the first time I called out to you. You just stood there, perfectly still. Then when I came up behind you and said your name again you turned swinging that shovel as though I were a foe come to attack you."

Frodo looked away and paused before speaking, "I don’t know where my mind was when you first came out. I guess you took me by surprise. I am very sorry. Are you sure you’re not hurt?"

Linwe sighed, she still did not believe he was being completely honest with her, but she also knew that he would not tell her anything if he did not want to. "I think I am just a little shaken, nothing more."

"All the same, I think I would feel better if we went back inside and I fix us some tea. I think I would feel better if I took some time to just take care to you.

"That is a good idea. If you are taking care of me then that is good reason for you to stay in and have a restful day yourself."

~~~~~

Frodo sat staring into the fire embers. Dark memories were lurking at the edges of his mind. He fought to keep them pushed away, to not let them play themselves out. With an effort he kept up a cheerful appearance all of that day. It was a day filled with simple homey pleasures that should have left Frodo feeling happy and content, but did not. Instead Frodo felt threatened though he knew not why.

As darkness fell, Frodo’s sense of foreboding grew. Something was not right about the day and he was looking forward to it being over. All he wanted was to climb into bed with Linwe, hold her close as he went to sleep and hope that with the morning the fear would be gone. He sat waiting for Linwe to finish changing for the night and wished she was there with him sitting on his lap distracting him with kisses. He sat alone waiting and feeling the shadows of his mind closing in. Frodo shivered and turned to look towards the bedroom window, sure he had felt a draft, but the window was closed. Once more he stared into the fire embers. His anxiety grew. He thought he saw from the corner of his eye the shadows in the room growing and coming in closer. He told himself it was nothing and kept staring into the fire. He felt his eye lids growing heavy so he let his head rest on the back of the chair. He closed his eyes, just until Linwe was with him. Just for a moment...

Cold

Darkness

Mist

Frodo looked around him, not knowing where he was. He heard a sound that sent chills through him. A sinister whispering came at him from one side but when he turned to look for the source of the sound it seemed to have moved to come from his other side.

"Who’s there?" he called out but know one answered.

Frodo peered into the darkness, trying to see something, anything. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flutter of movement. Snapping his head in that direction he saw nothing. Frodo’s heart started to pound. He felt sure that something was moving towards him. Swallowing hard past a lump in his throat he tried to calm himself. There is nothing there.

Another movement.

Frodo continued to look around him. He called out once again but was only answered by more to he sinister whispering. It grew louder and sounded as though it were drawing nearer. Then directly in front of him a dark ghostly form rose from the mist. Frodo could only stand and watch, paralyzed with fear, as the specter moved nearer. It held

The blade came down, moving swiftly through the air.

Frodo screamed as searing cold pain pierced the skin of his left shoulder.

~~~~~

Linwe sat at her dressing table in the bathroom carefully combing out her hair. Sam and Rosie had yet to return home, Linwe assumed they stopped in to visit with Rosie’s family or Sam’s father for a while. Linwe was glad they were away. If either had witnessed what had happened in the garden that day, it would have caused a large stir. As it was Linwe had been able to keep things quiet the rest of the day. Peace and quiet was what Frodo had needed more than anything. That and a good nights rest and she was sure he would feel himself again in the morning.

Linwe stood and checked her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing one of her favorite night dresses, she shivered and remembered that this was likely to be the last time she wore it until spring. It was not warm enough to wear on chilly winter nights. Before stepping back into the bedroom she picked up a bottle. It was filled with a lavender water, she liked to dab some on before going to bed. She found the fragrance to be relaxing. Suddenly Linwe gasped as a burning cold pain stabbed into her shoulder. The bottle fell from her hands shattering on the floor before her. Shards glittered on the floor like stars in the night sky. If Linwe had noticed she would have found the random pattern to be rather mesmerizing. Frodo was screaming. Pain, fear, and screaming was all that she was aware of. She rushed out of the bathroom heedless of where her foot steps fell. She didn’t notice the pain of bits of glass cutting into her small feet.

In the bedroom Linwe found Frodo in his chair holding his right hand to his left shoulder. He was gasping for breath. Linwe fell to her knees before the chair. "Frodo! Are you all right? What happened?"

Frodo opened his eyes. They were dark with several kinds of pain. "I am all right. It was only a dream."

"That was more than a dream. You were in pain. You still are!"

"It is easing now, it is nothing."

"Don’t lie to me, Frodo! You know better."

"Please, Linwe," pleaded Frodo, "Do not make me discuss it now. Leave it till morning, when it is light. I beg you."

Linwe bit her lip as she quickly debated the issue in her mind. Finally she had to admit to herself that she too did not wish to discuss the matter in the darkness of the night. "Very well then, but tomorrow you will tell me what this is all about."

Frodo breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, now if you are ready all I want is to go to bed and let this day be over." Frodo stood up and took Linwe’s hands in his to help her up. Linwe set one foot beneath her and shifted some weight to it and gasped in pain. "Linwe what is it?" Frodo asked in alarm, before she could say anything he noticed the drops and smears of blood on the floor and leaving large blotches on the hem of her gown. Then he saw the bottoms of her feet were bleeding. "What happened?"

Linwe’s broken response came threw clinched teeth, "Dropped a bottle…heard you scream…I ran."

Frodo bent down and lifted Linwe onto the chair. He held one of her feet up to the fire light to examine the bottom of it. "You’ve quite a few cuts and it looks like there are still bits of glass embedded deep into some of them." He then looked at her other foot. "This one has at least one deep cut that looks like it could use stitches."

"No stitches!" Linwe said emphatically.

"Linwe, please don’t start being difficult."

"I am not being difficult. Just bind them up, I am sure I will be fine. If I need stitches it can wait until tomorrow."

Frodo sighed, "Very well, I suppose we can save some of today’s commotion for tomorrow. I would not want Sam and Rosie to miss out."

~~~~~

Frodo lay in bed, wide awake. Linwe was nestled up close to him. He had made her drink one of her own medicinal teas to ease the pain from her cuts. The tea had also made her drowsy and she fell asleep almost before he could carry her to bed. Sleep was eluding Frodo. He just lay there, listening to Linwe’s soft breathing and for the sounds of Rosie and Sam returning home. It felt late in the night, but Frodo could see by the clock on the mantle that it really wasn’t late after all.

Restless, Frodo got out of bed and padded off to his study. There he stirred up the cooling embers of the fire and settled onto the sofa to read. He took up a book he and Linwe had been reading earlier that day. He opened up and then let it sit in his lap unread. His eyes drifted towards the fire, he stared into the flames and tried not to think.

~~~~~

"We are home and it looks a though Frodo may still be up in his study." Sam said as he and Rosie came up to the gate in front of Bag End, finally returning from a long day out.

"I’m surprised. It seems rather late." Rosie said with a yawn.

"He is probably waiting up for us. You go onto bed I will look in on Mr. Frodo and let him know that we are home again."

Sam made his way quietly down the hallway, towards Frodo’s study, so as not to disturb the stillness of the hobbit hole. He found the door to Frodo’s study halfway open. He knocked softly then pushed it open the rest of the way. There was Frodo sitting on the sofa gazing into the dancing flame, apparently unaware of Sam’s presence. Sam could feel that something was amiss. "Mr. Frodo?" Frodo did not answer he just continued staring into the flames. Sam looked closely at Frodo and thought his friend looked pale, and his eyes had a sort of haunted quality to them. Sam crossed the room and came to a stand in front of Frodo, with one hand he reached out and laid a hand on Frodo’s shoulder. "What is the matter, Mr. Frodo?"

This time Frodo answered his voice sounding somehow distant. "I am wounded." He answered, "wounded; it will never heal."

Then almost before Sam could blink once, the features on Frodo’s face softened. He looked up and smiled at Sam, "Hullo, Sam. Did you and Rosie enjoy your day out?"

Sam talked with Frodo for a few minutes. Frodo did not say anything to Sam about the troubling day, but with one exception. He told Sam that Linwe had accidentally dropped a glass bottle and had then stepped on the shards of glass.

It was not until the next morning when Sam told Rosie what happened in Frodo’s study that he remembered that the day before had been October sixth. Two years before on that date Frodo had been stabbed by the Nazgul King on Weathertop. in it’s hand a long blade and the blade was raised to strike.