Chapter II : The Misty Marshes "A strong Wind"

Frodo sat where he was by the fireplace for a while, knowing Rosie was getting dinner prepared in the kitchen for them. He had only half-eaten the cookie and didn’t really know how much he would want to eat He would try…he could tell Rosie was worried.

His mind wandered back to their last encounter in Gondor. Aragorn had held him gently while Arwen had softly tended to his wounds…and they both had brought him back from despair, and he had remembered wondering a little why Arwen seemed a little bigger, though had never commented on it. She was still wonderful...and she had given him the necklace.

But why hadn’t they asked for him? Didn’t they want him anymore? Frodo sighed and looked at the fireplace. He was an intruder upon a very special relationship and should be happy for the time that he had been allowed.

His time alone with Aragorn on the quest had been precious few moments, but each had been spent with the ranger’s tender care and he doubted he would have been able to bear the darkness had it not been for the knowledge that Aragorn loved him and that Arwen was waiting for them both to return safely.

There had been one time in Lorien when Aragorn had come to him after Gandalf’s death. Frodo had not wanted to talk to anyone…yet the ranger had coaxed him out of his shell.

“Frodo…you must eat something…” Strider had with him a tray of simple fruits and light fluffy breads as well as a pitcher of juice. Frodo had been sitting by himself , listening to the elves sing a chant for the wizard he had loved so much.

Frodo had looked up at him…and his voice caught in his throat, he had been crying…that much was obvious.

Strider had put the tray down and simply drew the hobbit into his lap and stroked his hair while he had cried and cried….for he knew that eventually he would have to leave the fellowship and did not know what to tell the Ranger..

Then finally…when all tears had been spent and he lay clinging to Strider he finally let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I can face it anymore, Strider.”

“You can Frodo, you have more strength in you than I have ever seen in any one being. You have born the ring for so long…and have not yet succumbed to it. You will not fail.” Aragorn had smiled and kissed him softly, “But leave such dark thoughts aside, Frodo…and please…you need to eat. Arwen would say the same thing, you know.”

Arwen…Frodo reached up to finger the white star that Aragorn wore around his neck gently. “I miss her. I wish she were here…”

“Me too, Frodo.” Aragorn indicated the tray, attempting to garner the hobbit’s interest. “There’s some fruit here that I don’t think you have tried before….”

And so the night had worn on, with Strider carefully tending to him, making sure that he -did- eat. He hadn’t really had much ssince that awful moment in Moria….and the nourishment had begun to put a little color in his cheeks…though he had been terribly afraid. So terribly afraid…facing Mordor alone…he doubted he could find the strength.

“Mr. Frodo?” Sam’s voice interrupted his thoughts as he blinked back to reality. Home…Bag End. It was all over. Yes…he shivered. Memories…

Frodo tried hard to smile at his friend, “Is everything ready?” he did his best to be enthusiastic about supper, but he knew he’d unlikely eat a great deal.. Still…he’d try…he let Sam help him up, even though he’d protested just a little, he wasn’t an invalid, he could certainly walk.

They made their way down the hallway towards the kitchen where Rosie had laid out a simple and yet impressive spread for the three of them. Soft fresh bread with honey butter, Mashed potatoes…one of his favorite…Apple dumplings…and spiced pork bits in lemon sauce. His mouth watered when he saw the Apple dumplings…and his stomach actually growled….causing Rosie to beam and they fussed as he sat down. “I guess I’m a little hungry after all.”

“I told you he’d like them.” Sam gave Rosie a wink as she poured Frodo a glass of fresh milk, something he liked to have with dinner.

The Baggins took it and drank…he was rather more parched than he realized, and the cool liquid coated his throat like a gentle blanket. He gave a little sigh at the relief on his scratchy throat and set the cup down…proceeding to tackle the meal...reaching to sink his spoon into the fresh dumpling.

Wind howled outside and blew the shutters open, causing everyone to jump. Sam got up to lock them. “Its getting bad out there. Looks like a storm.” he muttered to himself.

Frodo closed his eyes trying to shut out the howls of the wind…for they were reminding him of the screeches of the Nazghul and he began to shudder a little. Rosie immediately pulled a nearby folded up quilt over Frodo’s shoulders, tucking it around him gently. “I’m fine…really…” he protested…his teeth chattering as he tried to focus on the meal once again.

Rosie and Sam exchanged a look. He sounded terribly hoarse…and there was sweat on his brow. He was -not- as well as he kept insisting.

Sam nodded grimly and sat down, as though pretending nothing had happened, looking away from his former master for a moment. “The Gaffer has been saying we’re due for a big storm this year, for we haven’t had one since he was a boy.”

Rosie nodded softly, “Its just rain. How are the dumplings Frodo? Do you need any salt?”

Frodo blinked a little at their light tones. Did they not realize? No…how could they. He reached up under the quilt to grasp the necklace and gave a shuddering sigh as it comforted him…it was almost like having Arwen’s hand caress his cheek.

When he was breathing easier again he resumed his progress with the dumpling…smiling as best he could at Rosie…though it was not a smile from his heart….”Its just perfect, Rosie…” he said softly, looking back down at his plate as his hands began to shake.

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