The Grotto

Chapter Six

Awakenings

 

The afternoon is still warm when you waken. Frodo lies beside you, sleeping peacefully. His dark curls are dry and the gentle curve of his shoulder is glowing a bit pink from the sun. You smile gently and reach up to caress his bare skin. You have been lying here too long and you both will have sunburn on parts the sun would not have seen if you’d spent the afternoon in innocent pursuits. He sighs softly, but does not waken and you prop yourself up to look into his face.

It has been only recently that he has felt at peace enough to look so contented in sleep. For many years, his wounds still troubled him, and his heart was closed. He still felt the pain of his wounds. Little by little you and your sisters had gotten him to trust you, care for you, and finally return some of the love you lavished upon him. It had been very hard for him to open up, but when he did, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You gaze lovingly upon his closed eyes. His lashes are so long they cast their own shadows on his bright cheeks. His expressive brow is relaxed but the elegant sweep of it makes you want to follow the curve with your finger. That would surely wake him and you are taking too much delight in watching him sleep to do that… yet. His aristocratic nose has a touch of pink on the very tip – right where the sun has hit it, and his full, soft lips are lax and squished up into a rosebud shape by the outstretched arm he is lying on. He is so beautiful he makes you weep.

And yet, it is not his beauty that first drew you to this place. Long ago, in a past you can barely remember, you read his tale and it touched you as nothing ever had before. Others knew the story, but no one else seemed to have felt the yearning, the call that drew you to this place. You had never seen him but his deeds, written in a firm but delicate script, moved you. You remembered running wondering fingers over the parchment, realizing with shock that it was his hand that had penned these characters. These were his words, his tale and his sorrow. The wonder of that realization had moved you to tears. Here was his soul and yours cried out in response to it.

The Gamgees let you read it, and there, in the hole that had once been his, you heard the call. The old Mayor saw the look on your face and smiled with tears of joy and sorrow in his eyes. He understood, and knew that you did too. He then told you the rest of the story, which had not yet been penned to the last pages of the great book. He told you where Frodo had gone, and it was not even a question in your mind that you should follow him. A pilgrimage, you thought, to the place he had gone to at last put your yearning heart to rest. The city by the sea was almost deserted but the few elves who remained seemed to know why you had come. There you learned that others had been called before you – to travel here in reverence as you did. There you found that ships still left for that place, and perhaps it was the grace and light in your eyes that told the Shipwright that you were one who should be given leave to pass.

The trip across the sea was a blur of your memory. You knew you should have been terrified, but the warmth that filled you blotted out all fear. There was a light shining over the water, and for a moment it had seemed as if two planes of reality were separating. One sea glimmered far below you, but the ship still rode on a rush of silver wave. You remembered wondering what magic bore you up, because the waters you now traveled had an unearthly look – not like water at all, and yet more like the essence of the sea than the swells you had marveled at upon the Havens. Then the mists parted and you saw sunlight reflecting on a green hill far ahead. There dwelt the one to which you were bound and your heart had rejoiced.

When you arrived at the dock the others had greeted you, almost as if they knew of your coming. You searched the crowd at the bright dock, and though your eyes discerned the other hobbit ladies who stood there, you saw no gentlehobbit among them. You did not know what he looked like, but somehow you thought you could have picked him out, just by the grace of your dream. Your sisters had gathered you up in their arms and held you with tears and understanding. They knew why you had come, for they had also heard the call, and had heeded it the same way you did. They also understood your disappointment that he was not there to greet you, but explained that the one you all loved was still in pain and denial and that perhaps your coming would be the catalyst to bring him back to joy.

That was many long years past, and you still remembered your first sight of him. As you rolled up the lane to a cozy little smial you were struck by how much it resembled the Gamgee’s home – no, you corrected yourself, it resembled HIS home – the one he had left to the Mayor who had once been his gardener. Outside the round door, on a bench in the sunny garden, sat the one you had come so far to see. He looked neither young nor old, but even from a distance you could see the light in him. He stood out like a beacon of clarity amid the gently waving flowers. Although you had never laid eyes upon him before, you would have known him had he stood upon the quay. You would have known him anywhere.

His hand lay upon the sweet grass, slightly curving fingers resting easily amid the blades of green. You caress them softly. He sighs and opens one bright eye, squinting a little against the sun. The glow your reverie has left you with must have shown in your face for he smiles gently and rolls onto his side.

“You look a million miles away, dear one,” he whispers. “Do your thoughts wander even still?”

“My thoughts and my heart have found their home, beloved. I am done with wandering. Where you are, I will be.” You lean over to kiss the hand that still lies in the grass. “I have found my peace and my fulfillment.”

His hand rises to caress your cheek. “As have I… but I still wonder at the unbidden gift you all have given me. I have accepted it, and take great comfort in your love, but part of me still ponders its source. Do I have the Eldar to thank? Or Eru himself? Will this bounty vanish someday and the love you all feel fade? How much happiness am I due for the deeds I have done? For it feels as if I have reaped far more than I have ever sown.”

You laugh and turn his hand over to kiss the palm. “I have no answers, beloved, except to say the love I feel for you is boundless and will never fade. It was there before I ever saw your face and it will exist after you and I are dust. I was called to you by something far greater than myself, and I have faith that whatever did so will exist far past the limits of our time.”

Now he is stroking your hair and you wiggle closer to settle into his embrace. He kisses the top of your head and you sigh with content. He laughs as well, knowing why you have come closer and gives you a squeeze. “Will you never be satisfied, my love? I am but a mortal hobbit and though I have been healed, I must still rest and eat to keep my strength up! Will you not allow me some respite?” He laughs again as you, responding to his tease, place tender feather kisses on his chest. “Ah, I see,” he says. “You want me for my body only, and when I am old and grey I will be left alone in my great hole with nothing but memories for my comfort!”

At that, you lean back and look pointedly at him. He sees the seriousness of your expression and sits up on an elbow. You do the same.

“It was not your body that called me, Frodo,” you assure him softly. “Sweet and tender though it is, nor your face which is more beautiful than I could ever have imagined and more dear to me than any I have ever seen.” Your smile is sad and earnest and his fades a bit. “I loved you before I ever saw you. Your deeds spoke to my heart, your sacrifice spoke to my soul, and your strength spoke to my spirit – I would have loved you no matter what you looked like and I will love you forever, come what may. Fear not for the coming of time. You have my love forever and it will stand that test.”

He studies you long and you can tell your words are taken deep into his heart. The love reflected in his face is awesomely beautiful and it makes your heart ache with a passion that has nothing to do with lust or need, but with a soul filling desire to give him everything you possibly can. You are his, mind, body and soul, and would have given yourself to him even if he had nothing to offer you in return. That this perfect creature loves you in such measure is a boon unlooked for but you would still be his even if he did not.

“I know,” he whispers and takes your free hand in his. “And in that love I feel as if I have seen the joy of Arda unmarred, and will never disparage it. What you all have given me is joy beyond price and wisdom beyond pain, fear and doubt. I know the treasure that I hold in my hands. Never doubt it.” He kisses your hand and smiles again with a warmth that glows in his eyes. “Now. Enough of talk. Let us see what kind of a meal we can make from what we have brought in our packs, for I feel I will need plenty of sustaining before this day is ended.” He winks at you playfully and you both laugh and leap to your feet to gather together the packs and make a meal fit for a hobbit or two.

TBC 

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