The Day

The next couple of days passed slowly and without joy; even the sun had wrapped itself in grey clouds. Frodo placed the last of his belongings in the back of the wagon that would carry him and his uncle Bilbo to the Grey Havens. Frodo wasn't sure if he needed to bring anything with them, but he thought it was better to prepare than be sorry he hadn't.

Gandalf came up next to Frodo and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright, Frodo?" he asked, eyeing the hobbit from under his bushy brows with concern in his eyes.

Frodo pondered a moment before replying. "I'm nervous," he said at last.

Gandalf nodded slowly, then gave him a warm smile. "You have endured a great many trials, Frodo Baggins. You have no need to worry, for nothing evil can follow where we now go."

Frodo nodded silently and climbed up into the wagon next to his uncle who was sleeping peacefully. Gandalf continued to eye the hobbit, his gaze ever keen, and discerning.

Upon a tree-covered hill in the distance movement caught Gandalf's attention, and he saw a man cloaked in green watching them with interest. Gandalf gave a small bow that the man returned in kind before slipping back into the cover of the trees.

"We are almost ready to depart," announce Gandalf as he climbed onto the back of his horse. "Our traveling companions should be arriving shortly.

Frodo had hoped to slip quietly out of the Shire without all of the heartache goodbyes bring. Before he could ask Gandalf who would be coming with him, he heard them off in the distance.

A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!

silivren penna miril

O menel aglar elenath

Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!

We still remember, we who dwell

In this far land beneath the trees

The starlight on the Western Seas.

Frodo climbed out of the wagon to see Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel riding abrest each other at the head of a company of elves, and just behind them rode Sam, Merry, and Pippin on their ponies. For a brief moment, Frodo had hoped to see Arabella with them.

"You tried giving us the slip," stated Pippin, his usually mirthful attitude damped.

"If not for Gandalf we would have missed you leaving altogether," added Merry, none too pleased with his cousin.

Frodo looked at Sam atop his pony, Bill. "My dear, Sam."

Sam's eyes began to water, the hurt apparent on his face. "I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. 'Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.'"

Frodo's heart broke, for he knew that where he was going Sam could not follow. Not yet. "This is one journey you cannot make, Sam. Your time will come. Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot always be torn in two."

"But, I thought you were going to enjoy the Shire, too, for years and years," cried Sam, tears streaming down like the Anduin.

Frodo walked over to his dearest friend and took his hand. "I thought so, too. But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved." He paused. "But not for me."

The memory of Arabella and him under the oak tree floated through his mind, but he pushed it aside. "It is how it must be," he continued, looking at his friends. They had followed him through fire, darkness, and back again. "Come now," he said, "ride with me one last time."

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The company passed quickly and silently through the Shire with nothing but the soft echoes of Elrond's song marking their passing.

The Lady Galadriel spent much of the time speaking with Sam about his gardening and the work they had put into rebuilding the Shire.

Merry and Pippin spent most their time talking amongst the elven warriors listening to their tales and flirting with the elleth who walked among them. Elrond had a bemused look on his face and was chuckling to himself listening to them.

Frodo listened to Sam as he spoke of his daughter, Elanor, who was now six months of age and how he had named her after the flowers of Lorien.

Bilbo had woken up at one point to declare he'd passed up the Old Took and asked Frodo about his ring before promptly falling back asleep a short time later.

For Frodo though, time seemed to crawl by, turmoil filling his heart the closer they got to the Havens.

Finally, they had arrived. Cirdan had opened up the gates and led them down to the docks, where a sleek grey ship sat bobbing in the sheltered bay. The sun was just beginning to set, catching the clouds on fire, and turning the sky to a shimmering golden hue.

Elrond helped Galadriel aboard first and then helped Bilbo up the gangplank. Gandalf leaned on his staff, smiling fondly at the hobbits before him. "Farewell. Here at last on the edge of the sea comes the end of our fellowship. I will not say: do not cry. For not all tears are an evil." He looked at Pippin, smiling reassuringly. Both Merry and Pippin rushed over and embraced the wizard.

After returning their embrace, Gandalf looked at Frodo. "It is time, Frodo.

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Arabella sat under the same branches as she had with Frodo a week ago. Her hair was unbound, blowing in the soft autumn breeze. That same breeze was also drying her tears.

A few nights ago she'd had a dream of Frodo boarding a grey ship; He'd turned around and looked straight at her and smiled. His eyes were...

Arabella fell into sobbing once more. What cruel fate had destined them to meet only to rip them apart?

She could not say she loved him, for she had hardly got to know him. But she had wanted too, ever since she'd got the letter after the party. Through the tears, she unfolded it and read it for the hundredth time.

Dear Arabella,

I cannot apologize enough for what happened at the party. I believe I have left a poor impression on you and I should like to remedy that if I still can. I humbly ask you to join me for tea tomorrow at one o'clock.

Humbly,

Frodo Baggins

At first, Arabella had dismissed it outright. But the more she thought about it she realized that he really must be sorry if he was going through all that effort. She had been quite surprised to find him asleep the next day on the bench outside his home. She had only been two hours late, but that had hardly been her fault. How was she to know that the hobbit she got directions from would spend most of the time talking about ale brews and the strangeness of the Baggins family?

Arabella wrapped her arms around herself tighter. That day had not gone well, to say the least, but that following day had been...magical. Hearing the tales of the Fellowship, of the elves in Rivendell, and of the White City. Of the simple hobbit who had given of himself.

It often was when things were in danger that someone had to give up what they had so others could keep what they had. Arabella thought it was very courageous.

The sun had reached its noonday point, and its heat was welcome to her chilled arms. She rubbed the warmth back into them before standing up. It was time to go back home.

Something at the bottom of the hill caught her gaze. Arabella's eyes went wide in shock, her breath hitched.

Walking up the hill was Frodo, tired and travel-worn, but taking each step with purpose. Arabella thought she must be dreaming. He was gone. He'd sailed.

Frodo stopped before her. Arabella reached out a hand and touched his cheek, then recoiled, covering her mouth. Tears filled her eyes. "Frodo?" her voice barely above a whisper.

Frodo smiled. "Hello, Arabella."

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He'd rode hard from the Havens to make it back, asking the Valar that he would find Arabella in time.

He'd almost left her. He'd boarded the ship, but the feeling of peace he'd expected to feel didn't come. Bilbo had come over to him and given him a sly smiled. 'You're not ready to leave, Frodo my boy. Your heart is still in the Shire.'

He'd been right of course. It was with Arabella.

Gandalf had helped him onto his pony, his gray eyes misty. "Goodbye, Frodo Baggins. May all the years of your life be blessed," said the wizard, giving the hobbit a quick embrace. "Now ride," he said, giving him a wink.

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And so he had. Frodo wasn't sure if Sam and the others had followed him or stayed to say their own goodbyes, his mind was so set on finding Arabella.

Was it love? He knew love could make a person do things they wouldn't normally do, but he hardly knew her. There was something about her though that made him feel alive in a new way, and he wanted to see if she felt the same. Then, maybe, they could discover it together.

Now they both stood under the golden boughs of the oak tree, the noonday sun beaming down with joy and gladness. "I-I thought you sailed?" said Arabella, confused and afraid it was some phantom come to torture her in her grief.

Frodo took her into his arms and held her tenderly. "I found a reason to stay," he whispered in her ear.

Arabella's heart leaped within her, and she clung to him tightly. "What now?" asked Arabella.

Frodo drew back so he could see her face, slowly moving a tendril of hair, before kissing her. He then leaned his forehead against hers and said, "I believe I owe you a cup of tea."

Arabella giggled, and smiling said, "I believe you do."

Frodo took her by the hand, leading her down the hill. Neither of them knew what was going to happen, but Middle-Earth seemed brighter when they were together, and for now, that was enough.

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