Chapter Seventeen

Frodo and Linwe walked hand in hand through the woods. It had been four days since Frodo had fallen ill and though in body he appeared to be fine, Linwe could tell that in spirit he was hurting still. The trees were only just starting to bud, tiny leaves were not enough to keep the sun from penetrating deeply among the trees. They had not been walking long, through the sun dappled woods, when they came to a small clearing with a long low rock in the middle of it, left there by some long forgotten glacier as it passed through the land. "This looks like a lovely spot," said Linwe, "why don’t we sit here for a while."

"That would be fine," Replied Frodo tonelessly. Without thinking he went along with Linwe and took a seat on the sun warmed stone. Linwe still held Frodo’s hand. She thought only of Frodo, anyone could look at him and see that he was brooding over something. It had been four days since Frodo’s collapse. In those four days Frodo had barely uttered a word. He had stayed in his room, alone, Sam was still away planting trees and Frodo only accepted Linwe’s company. Visitors needing the Deputy Mayor on Shire business were told that he was under the weather but would surely be up and about in a day or two.

Linwe was not the sort to push and pry into someone else’s concerns. There were occasions when she was assisting Healer Burrows, that she was required to be firm when someone was trying to ignore a physical ailment and at risk for doing harm upon themselves, but it was not something Linwe was comfortable with. When it came to Frodo, Linwe was increasingly finding it necessary to be assertive. Linwe had learned very quickly, that Frodo had the most generous, caring heart of anyone she had ever met. He spent long hours performing his duties as deputy mayor, often he was asked to make decisions or solve problems that the petitioners themselves could have resolved. Linwe could easily see that so much time and attention being demanded of him was taxing to Frodo, but he kept on with very little complaint. Linwe saw how carefully Sam looked out for Frodo and how just as carefully Frodo shielded his fatigue from Sam. Often Frodo would divert Sam’s attentions by mentioning Rosie. This was something that Linwe and Rosie had both observed. They found it sad, sweet, and humorous all at the same time. While Linwe admired Frodo for his generous, selfless nature, she was also becoming increasingly concerned that it went to far. Linwe was finding that often the best way to care for Frodo was to just do what she felt needed done without giving him a chance to refuse her efforts. After enduring four days of Frodo’s steadfast broody silence, Linwe decided that once again it was time to force the issue. She would get him to talk to her.

"Frodo, what is troubling you?" she asked. Frodo said nothing but looked out through the trees. "Please tell me, I want to help if I can."

Several long moments passed where the only sound to be heard was that of two squirrels chasing one another from tree to tree. Linwe had just about given up on Frodo ever answering when at last he spoke. "I don’t think you can help me, Linwe. I don’t think anyone can," he said quietly.

Linwe took a deep breath. She felt more frustrated, but even more determined as well. "I am afraid I can not accept that." She paused and waited to see if Frodo would respond. He did not. "If you will not talk then I will. I can see you are hurting. I see sadness that never completely leaves your eyes. You, Sam, Merry, and Pippin have been keeping a wall of silence up, not telling anyone much of what happened while you were away. You have just enough grand tales of things you saw and did to convince almost everyone that they have heard all that there is to hear, but I for one am not fooled by it. There is something the lot of you are keeping to yourselves, something that is haunting you still. What happened to you Frodo? Where did you go? What happened on that journey that has hurt you so deeply?"

Linwe watched as Frodo closed his eyes while clenching his jaw. She watched as an inner struggle showed on the features of his face. The battle played itself out. Frodo turned to look at Linwe, his eyes dark with despair. With one trembling hand he reached up and touched her cheek, a hint of a smile touched his lips. "Dearest Linwe, you have an indomitable spirit beneath that delicate exterior." He sighed, "I will tell you what I can, but you must understand that these are painful memories for me. I do not like to dwell on them for long. Not yet anyway. I may not be able to tell all." He took her hand in his once more and turned his gaze away.  A cool breeze ruffled his hair. In a barely audible voice he said, "I went to Mordor." Of all things Frodo could have told Linwe this was the least expected. Frodo’s words came haltingly at first, but it was not long before he lost himself in the telling, the words could not seem to flow fast enough.

Side by side, hand in hand, Frodo and Linwe sat. Frodo releasing some of his pent up sadness, fear, and despair. Linwe took it all in, adding to it her own half forgotten memories of pain and terror over images she was just starting to understand. Images of a wraith like being stabbing her with its burning cold blade flowed into images of a tall, mighty wizard with a scraggly gray beard falling into flame and shadow. Linwe felt again as though something she loved had just been ripped cruelly from her. Months of confused dreams and nightmares visited themselves on her once more as Frodo spoke of events that she too remembered. It all came back to her, times of feeling bitterly cold and times when hot ash burned her throat with every breath. She remembered a malevolent voice whispering it’s dark words. She remembered the ever increasing weight that seemed to have been bound around her neck. Frodo’s memories of losing his fight against the ring were vague but Linwe found she remembered it all. The feelings of being trapped in a dark place, screaming silently for him to stop, then feeling crushing despair when she went unheard and the ring won.

Linwe was so caught up in the shock and wonder of all that whirled through her mind she did not notice Frodo leave her side to walk to the edge of the clearing, until one lone sob escaped his throat. Linwe stood up, moving to stand before him. He looked into her eyes, tears streaming down his face. "It never stops hurting. No matter where I go or how much time passes I don’t think I shall ever stop hurting."

Linwe took Frodo into her arms holding him tightly. Overcome, Frodo’s legs gave way beneath him, forcing Linwe to slump to the ground with him. There she sat cradling him, wondering to herself if he could ever shed enough tears to wash away his pain.