Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
The heat of the air around them was furnace-like with its intensity. Acrid smoke filled their lungs, and great hunks of ash and brimstone landed around them like a hellish blizzard. They were emaciated, maimed, and thoroughly exhausted.
But it was gone. Destroyed.
Frodo’s head lolled and his eyes attempted to focus. Somehow, they’d escaped the most intense part of the eruption; Sam had dragged them both up a rocky plateau, and now they were sprawled on top of a boulder. Before long, the lava would engulf them, much the same as it had engulfed the Ring.
But even as he lay, panting and dizzy from blood loss and surging adrenaline, a wave of euphoria washed over Frodo. He closed his burning eyes, and for the first time in months, the Ring was not the only thing he saw; in fact, he didn’t see it at all. In its place were verdant pastures and rolling hills bespeckled with round-doored homes. “I can see the Shire,” he breathed. “The Brandywine River. Bag End. Gandalf’s fireworks. The lights on the party tree.” The images rushed back to him, his mind finally free to remember and to think of anything else but the gold band.
Sam looked towards Frodo, tears flowing freely down his filthy cheeks. Hearing Sam’s sobs, Frodo’s heart shattered. Feelings the Ring had forced him to keep dormant suddenly sprang back to life, joining the images of home, as if a great wellspring of love and devotion was suddenly flooding his heart.
Frodo dragged himself to a sitting position, wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulders, and leaned in to him. Frodo brought their foreheads together, trying desperately to bring Sam some comfort. What could he possibly say to his Sam when he’d endured so much to ensure their safety and success? How could he verbalize the emotions currently coursing through his veins? Frodo sighed. Nothing he could say would ever be enough to express the depth and breadth of his gratitude and love in this moment, so he did as best as he could. “I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things,” he said, and Frodo pressed his cracked lips into Sam’s temple and held them there.
Frodo clung tight to Sam, his lips pressed to Sam’s cheek and his nose in Sam’s hair as the world around them faded to nothing but fire and ash.
***
He had no idea how long he’d been drifting. At first, his mind had been filled with nothing but flame and heat. Then, his dreams were filled with rushing wind and rustling feathers. Then for the longest time, he faded in and out of dark and light and a haze of distant voices.
When he finally came to himself, he first registered that he was in a bed, and a soft one at that. He could hear birds singing softly. He could feel a cool breeze from an open window, and he could smell a bright, green, herbaceous smell. Athelas , his memory provided.
His eyes fluttered open, blearily taking in the room, before his eyes finally focused on a figure, all in white, sitting at the foot of his bed. His mind reeled with recognition. It couldn’t be, could it? As his mind confirmed the impossible, his heart soared with a joy he hadn’t felt in ages.
“Gandalf?” he gasped. The wizard smiled broadly and laughed a rich laugh, which Frodo tearfully returned.
The following moments were a rush of reunions as Merry and Pippin practically pounced on him, and Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn entered the room in a reverent parade. The remainder of the Fellowship had survived, and everyone was greeting Frodo with smiles and cheers. Everyone except…
Sam, Frodo thought, as Sam’s timid face peered around the corner of the door frame. For a moment, Frodo’s throat seized and his chest tightened, the rush of emotions building again, just as they had on the mountainside. But Sam’s soft smile released the tension. Frodo sighed, and smiled back, a smile that, he hoped, reflected gratitude and…
Before Sam had the opportunity to enter Frodo’s room properly, Gandalf spoke to the gathered Fellowship. “I certainly hate to end such a merry gathering, but I must speak with Frodo privately. There will be time for further reunions soon, my dear friends.” The gathered Fellowship said their goodbyes to Frodo and filed out of the room, but Sam lingered, standing awkwardly in the hall. Gandalf approached the door to close it, and Frodo could hear Sam’s voice from the hallway.
“But, Gandalf sir, couldn’t I just…”
“I’m so sorry, Samwise, I know you’re eager to be reunited, and I assure you, reunited you shall be. Now that he’s awake, Frodo requires urgent care, and we have little time to waste,” the wizard’s voice calmly rumbled.
“C’mon, Sam,” Merry’s voice chimed. “Come with me’n Pip. We have breakfast laid out in our room.”
Frodo heard the soft padding of hobbit feet as Sam was escorted off, and Gandalf reentered the room and closed the door behind him. “I am so sorry to send everyone off, Frodo. I am sure you have many questions. But now that you are awake, we must begin your healing very quickly.”
“My healing?” Frodo winced, lying back on his pillows again. He was still aching in a great many places.
“Yes, specifically, that of your mind. I am fairly confident that I can provide a great deal of help to ward off any residual darkness the corruption of Ring may have left behind. However, I want to get started while everything is still fresh. Just like any wound, if we wait and let it fester, it will be that much harder to draw out the infection.” Gandalf pulled a chair up to the side of Frodo’s bed and sat down. “This may feel a bit intrusive, but may I?” Gandalf reached a hand towards Frodo’s head.
Frodo looked warily at Gandalf’s hovering fingers.“You aim to see what’s in my mind then?” Frodo asked. Gandalf nodded, and reached a bit closer.
Frodo winced, pulling his face just out of Gandalf’s reach. “Before you do that, I need to ask: did Sam tell you? About what happened on the mountain?” Frodo’s downcast eyes began to fill with tears. Gandalf lowered his hand and stared quizzically at Frodo. Frodo inhaled shakily, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I failed, Gandalf. I… claimed it… for myself,” Frodo whispered, tears flowing freely down his gaunt cheeks.
At first, Gandalf’s eyes went wide with surprise. But no sooner than the shock crossed his face did it fade, replaced with a comforting softness. “Oh, my dear Frodo,” Gandalf smiled and placed a gentle hand on Frodo’s shoulder. “That wasn’t you that claimed the Ring. Let me assure you, I know that you would never have done such a thing had you been in your right mind. The Ring was forcing you to do its bidding, tricking you. What the outcome would have been if you had truly claimed the Ring, we’ll not fully ever know. The Ring would only ever answer to one master, and thanks to you and Samwise, that master is destroyed. All that you need to know, Frodo Baggins, is that you did not fail. ”
Frodo stared at Gandalf, his eyes wide and watery, while the wizard continued. “You and Sam accomplished your quest. Middle Earth owes you massive debt… as do I. I sent you on this quest, and I am vowing to you now, I’ll do all that I can to bring you back to yourself. I truly believe I can help you cast out any remaining darkness that the Ring wormed into your mind to influence you. But first, you have to let me in.” Gandalf raised his hand to Frodo’s brow again.
Even though he didn’t quite yet believe Gandalf’s kind and comforting words, Frodo nodded, granting Gandalf access. “Close your eyes, and attempt to think of nothing.” Frodo’s eyes drifted closed…
***
...Gandalf sat back in his chair with a huff of breath. “You haven’t told him?” he practically shouted.
Frodo jumped, startled and blinking. “Tell who what?” he gasped, still reeling from the sensation of Gandalf sifting through his mind.
“If you’re this deeply in love with Samwise Gamgee, he must know about it at once! This love may be one of the best paths towards your continued healing.”
Frodo blushed instantly, gaping at Gandalf. “How did you… what could you…” he stammered.
“Love appears in one’s mind as light. Your love light for Sam was practically blinding!” Gandalf chuckled.
But Frodo couldn’t join in with Gandalf’s laughter. There were those rushing emotions again. While Frodo had been in possession of the Ring, the Ring kept Frodo’s love for Sam suppressed as often as possible. Frodo recalled the numerous times his stomach began to fill with butterflies over a smile Sam would cast his direction, or a loving embrace Sam would provide, only to have the Ring instantly send a surge of new weight across his chest, or flood his mind with a flash of flame. It was as if the Ring was forbidding Frodo from loving anything other than it. The first time Frodo had experienced the full, uninterrupted return of these feelings, he and Sam had been dying on that cursed mountainside. While Frodo was still thankful that the Ring hadn’t destroyed his love for Sam entirely, embarrassment now boiled hot in his chest. There was no use in trying to deny it, Frodo thought, since Gandalf had clearly seen it for himself. Frodo sighed. How could he ever explain all of this to Gandalf?
“I’ve had so many opportunities to tell Sam how I feel, and I never have. I’ve always feared how he’d take it. I mean… we’re both… well, it wouldn’t be natural , would it, Gandalf?”
Gandalf sighed and shook his head, his white hair rustling softly. “Frodo Baggins, of all of the words I’ve used to describe you over the years, ‘dense’ has never been one of them. Of course your love is natural! Didn’t Bilbo teach you anything?”
Frodo stared at Gandalf, his eyes going watery again with shame and approaching exhaustion. Gandalf swallowed hard, beginning to feel a little shame himself. “I am sorry, Frodo, I thought for sure he would have told you.”
“Told me what, Gandalf?” Frodo sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the side of his hand.
“Your Uncle Bilbo had no intentions of living the bachelor life he ended up with. He was once engaged to be wed.”
Frodo’s heart jumped. “Engaged? To whom?” Frodo breathed.
“Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf replied.
Frodo’s mouth dropped open, his eyes going impossibly wide. “Thorin Oakenshield? King Under the Mountain?”
“Indeed. Had Thorin not been killed during the Battle of the Five Armies, your uncle had every intention of becoming Bilbo Baggins, Consort Under the Mountain. Those two were very good about keeping their relationship a secret from me, at first, until your uncle decided to ask me what [ ghivashel ] means.”
“And what does it mean?”
“ ‘Treasure of all treasures’ in Khuzdul. Apparently, it was Thorin’s favorite pet name for your dear uncle.”
Frodo’s mind was reeling again. All of this time, he thought Bilbo subscribed to the typical attitude subscribed to by many of his Shire-dwelling relatives: any relationship that isn’t between a lad and a lass must be unnatural. To find out that, after all this time, his own uncle would have understood and even supported his feelings for Sam was overwhelming. “Why didn’t he tell me?” Frodo whispered, both to Gandalf and to himself.
“I suppose his grief was just too great. Can you imagine how broken-hearted you’d feel right now if you’d lost Sam?”
Frodo shuddered, attempting to block out the idea and pretend that Gandalf had never uttered such a horrible notion.
“Yes, I can understand how this would have been difficult for Bilbo to discuss with me. It just would have been nice to know before now. I’ve spent so long thinking that Sam and I could never be together, that my love for him would never be understood. But even if it could be, what of Sam? What if… what if he doesn’t feel the same?”
Gandalf smiled. “Samwise Gamgee followed you across Middle Earth and endured countless horrors all in the name of keeping you safe. Do you really think for a moment that Sam couldn’t possibly feel the same way for you as you do for him?”