This was written for FRODOHOLIC, because you've been with me through it all, and still remain
my greatest friend. I wanted to give you this as a gift, for all your encouragement to my writing as well as myself.
Thank you always, <3 TRW
In the near darkness you sit patiently by his bedside and watch the slow rise and fell of his chest as he labors to find
a place he can rest. The damp dark curls lay in loose ringlets across his forehead, as if the effort has been too great to
be in the perfect curls you've been used to since the Valar decided it would be best to grace you with his presence. Your
heart aches, watching as a slight frown forms over his features, making his body stiffen slightly even in sleep. You move
closer, whispering soft words to him, trying to be of comfort in the silence of the room. But it seems he doesn't hear your
thoughts at all, for the frown increases, and a soft cry escapes his lips, questioning and searching.
He's afraid, and that much is certain, and you can tell in the way hot tears fall from his eyes even in sleep. You hear
him mumble, soft incoherent words of concern, and immediately you move closer towards him, taking his hand in yours and whispering
his name softly. You don't expect it at all when his head turns towards you, and his hand grips yours so fiercely that you
wonder where the sudden strength comes from.
For his strength has been fading over the passing days, making him exhausted while even doing the slightest tasks at
all. You'll remember until your dying day watching, as one day his eyes suddenly rolled and he fell forward onto the
floor in the sitting room. You swear your heart stopped, forgetting everyone else in the room but him, as you pushed everyone
else out of your way to reach him. You remember picking him up in your arms, trying to wake him and failing. Your eyes were
those of the haunted as someone took him from your arms and whispered to you some vague instructions about something you couldn't
hear. All sounds seemed blocked out by his slight breath, getting weaker by the passing moments. And the world seemed so hollow
as time passed, and the healer had been sent for. But he seemed to know when you weren't with him, calling out for you even
in his weary sleep. And you rushed to his side, because you could never let him want for anything if it was something you
could help. Any protests from anyone else were lost to you as you picked him up in your arms again, cradling him against you.
It was only then that he seemed to wake at all, his bright eyes finding yours as he whispers for you above all others. You
held him close to you, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, letting him know you were still there with him. But it seems like
time stops completely as a question escapes him, and he takes a gasping breath before again becomming silent. And you worry
because the question was a name, one word that you've never heard from his lips until that moment.
The healer comes and all of his words seem lost to you, because all you can see is the silent figure on the bed beside
next to the place where you're standing. He questions you, something about infections and weather and fevers, but you
find you have no answers at all. You hadn't seen it coming, but you had been worried about his being tired so often and so
soon. In the evenings of late, he's requested for you, reading stories to him while keeping your arms around him to keep him
safe. But it is well before the story ends that you glance over at him to see his eyes closed in sleep. Still you stayed with
him, smiling slightly as you ran your fingers through his curls and brought him closer to you.
When you gathered him in your embrace, you couldn't help but smile as he bought his arms around you. Here you would sit
with him in your arms for several hours yet, not wanting to move for fear of waking him or disturbing his peaceful rest. Perhaps
it was also to keep you occupied...to keep you from thinking about other things that effected you both.
A slight moan brings you back to the present, back to hoping that he'll have that peaceful rest he's been searching for.
But his dreams have grown as dark as his fever is high, and the peaceful rest has long left him. He turns slightly, gripping
your hand as if he's afraid to let go at all. The soft question again, and this time you lean forward, trying to see if you
can understand his dark dreams. You think perhaps that he'll say why he's spoken it...why it brings him worry that he should
not have the name with him.
You caress his cheek softly, whispering his name in the near darkness. A whimper from him, and its all you can do to hold
his hand and bring your arms about him in comfort. Secretly you're hoping that he knows you're here for him. That somehow
in his dark dreams, he can still find your presence and rejoyce for the fact that he is not alone. You promise him softly
in whispers that no matter how it may seem, he never will be.
The days pass slowly, and you've hardly moved from his bedside. He seems to be getting worse not better, despite all the
efforts of the healer and yourself with all your encouraging words and love. You've taken him in your arms every night, when
his cries were to much for you to have him bear alone. He seemed to be so much in torment, so lost, that you wondered why
or how he could have possibly gotten those feelings. In all of his life, you've tried your best to keep him in nothing but
light, but somehow he's gotten himself caught in tremendous darkness. You remember that when he was much younger, he used
to take your hand and squeeze it just a fraction more when you would both enter any darkness. You knew he was afraid of it,
and yet because he was with you, he allowed himself to be pulled into it as well. He always knew that you would never let
any harm come to him.
But in the last week before his illness, you remember him taking your hand again, and you could hear his breath shallow
slightly and his eyes widen in fear. Finally, he stopped completely, in a near panic about possibly entering darkness. You
turned toward him, confused slightly, but seeing him thus made you bend down to him immediately. "Frodo? What is it?" It's
a moment before he can answer, and you bring him closer to you to try and calm him. "Please....don't make me go in there...please...it's
too dark!" "Don't worry my lad, I wont let any harm come to you. There's nothing here that could. Where has this fear come
from my Son?" He is silent but is shaking slightly, and tears start to flow down his cheeks. At first he shakes his head with
no comments, but in your eyes he can see safety and promise. You question again his name while keeping hold of him a bit tighter.
"Please...tell me Frodo. I want to help you....why are you so afraid?" He shivers slightly, and his quiet answer comes before
he falls silent for a time again. "I dreamt of it."
His words seem to say everything and yet nothing. You shake your head in confusion, "You dreamt of darkness?" He nods his
head in silence, and buries his eyes in the hem of your waist coat. He's shaking so hard that you wonder what the dreams could
possibly have done to make him fear so greatly. You make soft shushing noises, trying to calm him, before you speak again
in soft tones. "Frodo...there's nothing to fear in the darkness I promise you. I'm here with you...let us go together into
it. And I promise nothing will harm you." "How do you know?" "Well...I don't. But I do know that it's not the darkness alone
you fear lad....it's what's in it. And what is in it in these dreams of yours? Tell me....let me help you."
Again he is silent, until he whispers so softly that you almost miss it. "I don't know...I can't see them." "Them?" A strange
calm has come over him, as though he's in a dream state. It's like he's been reading a book, and recites slowly but with much
detail, as if he's seeing it before his eyes. "Yes...they wear all black....and its so dark that I can't see anything else.
They're tall...and even in the darkness I know they're searching for me." "Why are they searching for you lad?" "I...don't
know...and they say nothing I can understand. Its a different language, but not the pleasant one of the elves...and I can
hear their screams....and I know they'll find me." You gather him close to you, and he wraps his arms around you. "Frodo...I
don't know who these creatures are...but I promise you that they are not here. We shall go together into this darkness...and
we will be protected from harm by the love we hold for each other. Do not be afraid my Son. For no matter what it may seem...you
will never be alone. I will always be with you...whether your eyes may see me or not." "Do you promise?" "I promise you."
"But...how do you know?" Gently, you take his hand, and place it over your heart. And you take his other hand to rest on his
own. "Close your eyes....and listen." He closes his eyes, leaning into your embrace, feeling safe. "When you listen thus with
your eyes closed, you become aware of things you wouldn't normally notice. Sounds, thoughts, and feelings." He nods, but you
know that he is still not able to completely understand what that would mean." "Can you hear me still my Son?" He nods, and
you continue. "And yet I am still with you. Feel our heartbeats lad...they're but the same. We're the same. You can feel me
can you not? Feel me with you?" "Yes," he says breathlessly, as if in relief. "If ever you can not see me, close your eyes...for
I will be there with you still...even in darkness. Look back to this moment lad, and you'll know that I'm with you." A figure
moves into your vision, and you take a breath as you always do when She enters. "And it's not just me Frodo...but another
as well." "Another?" "Yes Frodo my love...I am always with you. When in darkness you fear the most, I shall be with you to
be your light so that you are not alone." He smiles at last, and brings his arms around both of you, and you both sigh in
relief. As you had been worried, so had she. She knew, enough to feel his fear, enough to come into the darkened hallway and
be there with you both.
You remember before he was born, and having her say similar words to you in the darkness. And you remember that it was
her closeness that brought you similar comfort...her words that brought you peace at last. You remember now dreaming of a
dark river and flashes of light and terrible sound...breathlessly searching for her, and waking in terror until she put her
arms around you. There was a feeling of dread and terrible loss, as if you had both gone and left your most precious gift
behind you. You fought it...but in the end it overwhelmed you...comsuming you both. You always woke with a cry, and with sweat
dripping from your body like water from a river. You shivered until she was with you...until she brought you peace. And you
know now that only with the two of you together to give him the feeling of safety, will he find peace. For it is both of you
that he holds so close to his heart in his dreams. Both of you that love him without question because he is a part of you.
Because as it has been the two of you together that have brought him everything he ever wanted, so must the two of you bring
him peace. It can not be just you that can bring him comfort, bring him safety. There was another person in his life that
he needed. And despite the protests from the healer, you take your child up in your arms and bring him to rest with her.
She had been ill for several days, which was why you had been alone when you had taken him to bed that night. It was much
later than he should have gone to sleep and you knew that, but you were both so worried about her that neither one of you
could find rest until it was almost approaching daylight. With Frodo's lack of energy you began to worry in the back of your
heart as well...but you never thought it would come to anything. You thought that as long as you remained with him, kept him
with you, that he would be safe and free of illness. But you were wrong. He needed you yes, but he also needed her...to be
with you both. She would have known...she would have seen it. But she had been ill, and knew nothing. You knew though that
her illness was nothing compared to his. In him, the illness seemed to consume him completely. He hardly woke at all now,
and seemed in torment constantly. But at the moment you layed him with her, and layed beside him as well, he sighed instantly,
as if he was finally able to find a relief from his torment. And she herself woke instantly, feeling in her heart that the
parts of her that she had been missing were now returned. But it was a mother's instinct, a genuine fear that something is
wrong that only she can mend. She knows that her beloved child's life hangs in the balance of fate...a fate she can change.
Gently she moves, bringing her arms around him, protecting him from his nightmares. She soothes, and then moments later
she starts to sing softly, a song you recognize as an old Elvish melody. It is what she calls her "comfort song"...taught
to her by her own Grandmother. Your eyes close almost in instinct as she begins, and all fear of your own is washed away by
the strength in her voice. She is not weakened any longer, and she gains strength in that of her suffering child. She knows
by instinct that she must be strong, for his sake.
He sighs again at the end of the song, knowing he is safe and surrounded by love. But he is still delirious, and his fever
is still higher than you've ever seen. Yet slowly, his eyes waver open, trying to focus. He sees her, and brings himself to
rest close in her embrace. His voice is soft and quivering when he speaks. "Mama...are you better now?" "Yes my dearest, I'm
much better....and all because of you." Tears again fall, and she is quick to move to wipe them away, kissing his cheek and
the top of his forehead. "What's the matter my love?" But he's exhausted, and it shows in the effort it takes for him to breathe
at all. "Mama...?" "Frodo love...stay with me please," she pleads, her eyes wide with worry about her only child. "I want.....,"
"Yes love? What is it?"
If she knows nothing about what he wants, you do. For it's the one thing he's spoken, the one name he's never known, but
calls for even in delirium. You can feel this coming, like a building wave that you watch helplessly before you know it will
come crashing down. You take a breath and take one of her hands, causing her to look into your eyes as you speak silent words
between you. She looks worried, and you plead silently, begging her not to continue, just to have her hold him. But in her
eyes she says that she must know everything...even things she wont understand. To know the worst, would be better than not
knowing at all. Your eyes close, resigned, and your arms go around him as well, trying to comfort what you know is coming.
He grabs hold of your arm around him, and another sigh of relief escapes him, as if he was uncertain of your presence as well
since he couldn't see you. You lean forward and whisper in his ears, "I told you I would always be with you my Son, whether
you could see me or not." He smiles and a weak cough escapes him, and you are unaware that the tears are no longer just his
own, but yours as well. She sees them, and her brow furrows, trying to understand and comfort, find you both relief.
"Frodo....my love, tell Mama sweetheart. Tell me what you want." A groan from him, and you hear it then, "Uncle..?," but
it's as though the effort of speaking has made him fade. He no longer has the effort in him to speak the full of his voice,
and the result has become but a whisper with a slight hitch of his breath before he falls silent with a sigh. "I want...Sam....!,"
but the whisper of the name is too great, for his eyes roll closed and he lets go of your hand.
You are both as silent as he, and her efforts to wake him fail. She's never felt so hollow in her life, as though all the
air she had been breathing freely just left her in a sudden rush. "Frodo...?" But there is no answer, and in seeing her panic,
the healer moves forward from his place by the doorway. He frowns, and just by looking at him, he knows that his fever is
much too high. He frowns before lifting his body with little effort and taking him from the room. He whispers to him, soft
words you can't hear, and they dissapear down the hallway. And all the time you both can do nothing but wait. She's overwrought,
fearing for the life of her child. You put your arms around her, and she holds you tightly before she whispers, "I can't feel
him with me Drogo...please tell me he's not...," but she can't continue except for the sobbing of his name and the pleads
to the Valar to keep him there. They both need to be with him just yet...and he must be so afraid without them there with
The healer returns after what seems like a lifetime, and the child in his arms seems to be sleeping soundly. The effort
was a great one, and even the healer looks exhausted, with his hair askew, his waistcoat removed, and his shirtsleeves pushed
up at random parts of his arms. But hope has returned, and your child's fever has gone down enough for him to sleep at last
without nightmares. His clothes are changed and his hair wet, and he looks just the way he does when you've carried him to
bed at night, peaceful and at ease. He places him between you and gives some instructions about keeping watch over him, letting
him know immediately if his temperature should rise again. He is too young yet to have it be so high he explains, and even
if he weren't, it still would be a danger to him. He says that you still have a long wait before the danger is completely
passed. He takes a breath before he says that you must wake him immediately if his dreams turn to darkness, for it would be
better for him to remain feeling safe, than for his effort would not be wasted trying to escape his dreams. You both nod in
silence, and he says that he is going to make some tea and then rest, but to wake him if there is any change...even slight.
When he leaves you both are left with your child between you again. But he's relaxed, and as if in instinct takes your
hand even with his eyes closed, and wraps it around him. Your wife smiles at this, and her hand reaches to caress his cheek
softly. "I love you Frodo...so very much. I don't know what I would ever do without you with me." But at this his blue eyes
open and he looks at her a moment in silence before he speaks to her with a whisper. "Don't worry Mama...I'll still be with
you...whether you may see me or not. I love you both so much that I'll always have you with me, even if it must be only in
my dreams." When his eyes close and he falls silent again, a sob escapes her, one that shakes her completely. But immediately
both of your arms go around her, keeping her safe. Eventually you both fall asleep next to him, your arms around each other,
keeping you at peace. You know you've never loved two people more completely in your life. You used to feel unease and somehow
incomplete, but that changed when you met her, and the feeling was more amazing than you'd ever known when he came to be with
you. You know your life was meant to be here with them, keeping them safe, making them feel whole. You smile now even in your
A week passes, in which your child's fever raises and lowers like the setting and rising of the sun. But finally at length,
it is broken. He is still weak and tired, but he is at peace and can sleep without dreams. The name unknown to him was spoken
several times, in his delirum, but he remembers nothing. You think perhaps that might be the best thing. Your wife still watches
him with worry in her eyes, and the elvish melody she sings for him every night because he requests it. You know though that
he is on the mend, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Another two days pass, and you've just put Frodo to sleep when a knock
at the door heralds the arrival of Bilbo. You both are delighted to see him, and he came for his own worry and concern about
Frodo. You'd written him before his illness turned for the better, and forgotten to send another stating of his return to
health. You hasten to give him the update and smile when you see him visibly breathe a sigh of relief. The concern was genuine,
not some half hearted question that he didn't really want to know the answer to like so many of the others.
You frown slightly as you remember your wife's cousin, coming for a short visit with Primula, and ask briefly about how
things were getting on. But when Primula tried answering that both herself and Frodo had been quite ill, the cousin interrupted
with her own statements about the weather. You remembered that Primula turned to you, shrugging slightly, and sighed as she
turned back to her cousin.
A sound of shuffling feet makes you turn in instinct, but you aren't suprised at who the sound belongs to. Frodo has heard
Bilbo's voice, and he was always exited to see him, whether he should be sleeping or not. He's a bit unsteady on his feet
yet, so Bilbo, with a great smile on his face and laughter in his voice, closes the distance between them. He picks up Frodo
and lifts him in the air, hugging him close. "You had your Uncle quite worried Frodo lad! I had to come as soon as I got your
Father's letter!" "You were worried about me?," Frodo asks softly, genuinely suprised. "Of course I was! Gracious Frodo, I
nearly dropped to the floor with worry! I was more afraid than I was of any of those spiders I've come across in all of my
travels...and I think I've told you often enough how much I fear those!" "You were that worried Uncle?? I think I'd be
more afraid of those spiders Uncle than of me being a bit ill." Bilbo makes a slight choking noise, and you come behind him,
patting his back. "Slight?? My dear boy, you have no idea how ill you were. I spoke to the healer myself on my way here. You
can't fool me...I'm a Baggins!" Frodo laughs, a genuine sound that makes you and Primula both look at each other and smile.
"But Uncle...we're all Baggins'!" Bilbo has a blank look for a moment, as if he's forgotten this very important detail. But
then suddenly he laughs just as heartily. "You're right my lad...that's exactly right! We Baggins' must stick together mustn't
we? Can let anyone fool us, can we?" Frodo shakes his head before hugging Bilbo again, but then pulls away slightly. "Uncle...why
didn't you come earlier? I was waiting for you...and I couldn't find you." "Were you now?" "Yes...I was worried that you wouldn't
come at all." "Frodo...don't you ever worry about that. I'll always come for you. I was delayed only...but I have come." "What
delayed you?" "Ah...my Gardner and friend Hamfast Gamgee's wife had a child...just 9 days ago now it is."
A thought comes in your mind, blinding like a flashing light. Nine days ago was the same night that you'd almost lost your
own child to fate. A lump forms in your throat, and your eyes search the floor and see nothing. "A baby? How exiting! Is it
a boy or a girl?" "A boy....and a right healthy lad he was from the start! He let out some terrible screams believe
you me, even from the moment he was born! Such lungs on that boy Frodo...my ears are still ringing!" Frodo
laughs again, and watches as Bilbo suddenly remembers something and sets Frodo on the lounge. "I'd nearly forgotten...I was
meant to give you a gift, as a mathom from him." "Truely? But we've never even met Uncle," Frodo says, watching Bilbo search.
"Yes I know...but the lad's mother said she dreamt her lad told her to have me bring you a gift. She had her heart set on
my having you bring it...I couldn't say no." "Of course not! You will have to thank her - I mean him, for me until I can do
so myself Uncle," Frodo says. "Ah ha! I'd forgotten...I left it outside, because I didn't want it to be crushed with our meetings."
"Outside?" "Yes...just a moment." Bilbo opens the door and finds what he's been looking for. When he returns he carries in
a pot, a flower, more beautiful than you've ever seen. It's a rose....but much more, for the petals almost glisten with life
and love. Bilbo sets the pot on the table before Frodo, carefully and in silence. And Frodo himself is just awestruck. He
stares at the flower for long moments before he can move at all. Then he gets up, only to sink to his knees beside the table
watching it. "Its beautiful....," he says in a whisper, leaning forward to get a closer look and smell the fragrance. "Was
there any message with it?" "Why yes, in fact there was. She wrote down what her dream told her to, and she asked that
I not read it. Here," he says, handing Frodo a small paper.
Frodo takes the note and reads, "Master Frodo, I know how this may sound, but my Son asked that I should write this down,
and I beg you to please forgive me if it is anything improper, for I don't know what I'm writing at all. But he said you would
know what it meant. Please forgive any spelling errors, for he was very specific about the lettering as well." Frodo reads
the note, and you notice that his fingers are shaking slightly.
Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au',
Amin mela lle,
lle Sam" *
Frodo bows his head, and you see tears escape before he can stop them. He whispers as he folds the letter with care before
putting it in his pocket. "I was beginning to think it was a dream only....but I'm glad its not. Amin mela lle Sam." Primula
asks, "What is the child's name Bilbo?" "His name is Samwise, but I've been calling him Sam when no one is about to notice."
She is silent, and her eyes widen as she looks into your eyes. Quickly she glances at Frodo, who has his eyes closed. Gently
she steps over to him, and bends down to his level. She can see that he's gotten pale, and a frown forms over her features.
"Frodo...my dearest, I think it's about time you went back to bed love. You're still not entirely well, and you need your
rest." Frodo's eyes open, and he puts his arms out to her, before he speaks with a quiver to his voice. "I..I think you're
right, ...I don't...," before his eyes suddenly roll shut. Primula gasps, and picks him up with care. "Drogo?," she questions
you. But you're not concerned, even when he won't wake. Your voice is quiet when you answer, taking him from her arms. "It's
all this exitement...that's all. He'll be allright...he just needs rest." You place a soft kiss on his dark curls and carry
him to bed, lovingly putting the covers over him and brushing a hand through his hair. "So that's your Sam is it my lad? He
knew well enough to send you that message, even through dreams. And its in our dreams Frodo that we are have the most clear
vision of what can be. But do not be afraid of it Frodo. I think Sam was meant to be there for you for some reason or another."
You lean close to his ear, and whisper, "I'll always be with you Frodo, whether you may see me or not, for I love you that
much that we shall never be truely parted." A soft sigh, and Frodo murmurs softly without waking, "Do you promise?" "I promise
you." He sighs again, in relief, and no more sound is heard. But as you're walking toward the door to go out of the room,
his eyes open and you hear his voice, "Da?" "Yes, Frodo?" "I'm glad I didn't...I'm glad he wasn't just a dream." "So am I
Frodo....now get to sleep."
You walk out of the room and go back to where your beloved wife is sitting talking to Bilbo. Both look up when you enter,
concerned, but when you smile and say, "He'll be fine," you are gladdened to see them both look relieved. "You will stay Bilbo
won't you for a while? I know Frodo loves your visits, and I know both of us do as well." "Of course, if you like. I must
admit I prefer it here to BrandyHall! Its much quieter, and a body can actually think here." You both laugh, and Bilbo takes
out his Red Book. His eyes are bright, and he knows he has his audience. You and Primula have always loved his stories...and
unlike most folks, you actually believe they happened. And you know that Frodo is very close to Bilbo more than most of the
others. So much so that after he would leave, you would often catch Frodo "Dueling" with spiders and Trolls and the like.
And if possible, his eyes would seem a bit brighter when he spoke of the Elven folk. At times you could swear that you saw
a light surrounding him, but now you attributed it to the dreams he kept with Sam. You knew now there was nothing to fear
"For my beloved,
My heart shall weep until it sees thee again,
I love you,