Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Soulmates ❯ Return ( Chapter 11 )
Frodo ran off the boat, eager to touch down on the earth that contained his home. He spun around and laughed in elation. He could finally die in peace, and now that he and Bilbo were away from the Undying Lands, death would come, probably swiftly.
Elrond and Arwen walked down the planking, smiling at the Hobbit's jubilation. Even after three hundred years, he was still so very emotional. Bilbo had calmed considerably, but Frodo? He was just as ecstatic and young at heart as ever.
"Calm down, my boy," Bilbo laughed as he stepped down, looking just as young as Frodo.
Frodo spun and smiled. "I can't help it, Uncle! I'm so happy to be back home!"
The Humans gathered around them, fascinated to see them. Thranduil stepped beside the Hobbit.
"You know," a man said. "We haven't seen an Elf here since Silverleaf."
"Elf?" Thranduil asked. "What Elf?"
"The Moon Elf."
Erestor's eyes looked up, shock in their depths. Elrond laughed. "There is no such thing as a Moon Elf. They are legends."
"Silverleaf is very real," a woman said. "He's kind. One of his Hobbit friends is over there."
She pointed and their eyes were drawn to a short figure, completely cloaked, staring at them. They might not have been able to see his eyes because of the low hood he wore, but his gaze was very weighty. Frodo excused himself from the crowd and walked over. The Hobbit stood there staring until Frodo stopped in front of him.
"Hello, fellow Hobbit. You know an Elf?" The hooded Hobbit nodded. "I thought there were no Elves left."
"You forget, Mr. Frodo, that you left an Elf behind."
Frodo froze. He knew that voice. It was so familiar that it ached. He reached forward and grabbed the hood, starting to pull it off to see if the face was the same as he remembered.
"Isn't that a little rude, Nephew?"
"But Uncle, it's…It could be…His voice…" Frodo said, turning to look at him.
"Spit it out, Frodo."
"He sounded like Sa—"
Without any warning whatsoever, the Hobbit took off at a dead run. Frodo gasped and shot after him, but he was extremely fast.
"W-wait! Sam, wait! Please!" Frodo gasped.
The Hobbit disappeared into the wood that lay next to the town. Frodo was about to follow, even as he was gasping for breath, when he was snagged by Elrond.
"Frodo! Where is your head? We need to stay together. The Humans are not used to our kinds anymore."
"But Sam!" Frodo said, tugging against the Elf lord's grip.
"Samwise? He is long dead, Frodo. You must accept that."
"No. Now, come. We shall begin to make our way toward Rivendell in the morning. See what is left of my old home.
Five sets of eyes watched as the Hobbit was led away. Frodo looked back desperately, hope and fear alight in his eyes.
"Damn," the watching Elf said. "Looks like we'll have to cast Moon Sleep on the Elves to get him."
"I almost had him, too," the cloaked Hobbit said, sounding extremely disappointed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Legolas."
"It is quite all right, Samwise. It wasn't your fault," Legolas said, tossing his blonde hair over his shoulder. "We will get our Soulmate yet. We will, I promise. But we must be patient. They must pass by Fangorn to get to Rivendell. We shall take him in the night while the others sleep deeply under the full moon. Come, we must get to Fangorn before they do. We leave now."
Two weeks later, the Elves made camp near, but not too near, Fangorn Forest. They could sense something lurking in the shadows, and, though they didn't show it, it made them nervous. Frodo, on the other hand, found himself drawn to the hulking trees. Elrond and Thranduil kept pulling him away. That night, Frodo was awakened by a hand tracing his face. He saw, beneath the full moon's light, Samwise Gamgee's face. He was smiling.
"Sam! I…It was you! How are you alive?!" Frodo gasped loudly.
Silence reigned for a few moments before Frodo realized something. The Elves around him, and Bilbo beside him, hadn't sat up. They still looked to be sleeping. He sat up, and Sam helped him to his feet.
"They won't wake up, Mr. Frodo," he said softly. "Now, come along. You don't belong with these Sun Elves. You belong with us."
"I…I can't. I have to spend time with Bilbo. We don't have long to live now."
"Oh, right. I wondered why Mr. Gimli had me bring Fount water. Here, hold me bag."
Sam went through the bag before pulling out an expensive looking crystal bottle. He waved his hand over Bilbo, who gasped as he sat up. Frodo could tell he wasn't entirely awake by his blank stare alone. Sam uncorked the bottle and held it to Bilbo's lips.
"Here ya are, Mr. Bilbo. Take a nice long drought."
Bilbo drank it all down then yawned and lay back down. Sam put the bottle back and the two Hobbits watched the sleeping one. Frodo gasped as a soft glow began emanating from the sleeping form of his uncle.
"There ya go, Mr. Frodo. He's now immortal. We must get you to the Fount so that you can be immortal, too. I have no more water with me. Come along. Misters Merry and Pippin are eager ta see you."
"Merry and Pippin are alive, too?" Frodo asked excitedly.
"Frodo? Who are you talking to?" Erestor asked with a yawn as he sat up.
"Mr. Erestor! Mr. Elladan!" Sam gasped as the younger Elf sat up as well. The Hobbit bowed low. "It is good to see that our two Moon Elves are back!"
"Moon Elves? They don't exist," Elladan said, glancing over at his father's sleeping form. "Why are they not awake?"
"Moon Sleep," Erestor said. "And a very powerful one, too. It is the heavy feeling in the air, Elladan. The soothing song of the moon is playing through their dreams, and Sun Elves are powerless to stop it once it is cast."
"But I'm a Sun Elf and it isn't affecting me," Elladan said.
"Mr. Elladan!" Sam scolded. "I know for a fact that you are a Moon Elf. Your uncle, Elros, was a Moon Elf, too. One pair of a set of twins is always a Moon Elf. Triplets either go one or two, depending on the time of the month they were conceived, quadruplets are two and two. And so on. So ya don't need ta lie to us."
"I'm not a Moon Elf! They don't exist!" Elladan spat.
"Oh ho. Really? Then ya won't mind me kissin' ya in greeting."
"I…I suppose not."
Sam walked up to him and pressed a soft kiss to the Elf's cheek. Elladan yowled and shivered as silver blasted through his hair. He panted, staring at the silver locks, then began to cry.
"Father's going to kill me!"
"Hush now, all ya gotta do is concentrate and you can hide it easy enough. Show him, Erestor."
"You must give me a moment. I haven't done it in so long," Erestor said, sounding a little embarrassed.
He took a deep breath and relaxed. Silver oozed over his hair, and when his eyes opened, they were silver, too. He smiled.
"How did you know about Moon Elves, young Hobbit? Sun Elves are adamant that we don't exist."
"Mr. Legolas is the missing son of Queen Celeblessel and King Mormerilon," Sam replied with a smile of his own. "He is glad Thranduil is not his father. He always felt pressured to be a, well, a Sun Elf, and he's not. Now, Legolas and the others are eager to see our Soulmate, Mr. Frodo here. You two are always welcome in Ithralcilvan. Mr. Erestor knows where to find it, Mr. Elladan, so don't you worry about it. Come along, Mr. Frodo. And don't you two forget to change your hair and eye colors back."
With that, Sam grabbed Frodo's hand and led him toward the dark wood.
"We'll trip and fall, Sam," Frodo said, resisting a little.
Without skipping a beat, Sam held out his free hand and flexed it. A ball of silver light appeared and lit the path brightly. They walked for days, deeper and deeper into the foreboding woods, with very little rest and no conversation. Frodo was exhausted by time they got to Ithralcilvan, but still he was amazed by the clean buildings, though they were of a different design than the Sun Elves he was used to. He yawned and shivered.
"I'm tired, Sam. So very tired."
"Come along, Mr. Frodo. We have a room prepared for you in the palace. First let's wash the dirt from your feet. And the rest of ya, too."
Frodo was given a lovely warm bath. Sam carefully bathed him. Frodo pulled back when he took his right hand to clean it. Sam paused.
"Even after all this time, Mr. Frodo, you still are ashamed of it."
"I was weak," Frodo muttered.
"The ring was at its strongest Frodo. There is no shame in what happened. Anybody would have given in long, long before you did. Even when I bore the ring, the call was sweet and sour at the same time. But I would have tasted it anyway, just for that split second of sweet relief."
Frodo began to cry. "My sprit is healed, but I feel as if a part of me is missing still."
"That would be us. Come now, let me finish washin' you then we'll sleep."
Frodo held his hand close to his body, looking away. Sam held out his own hand. Frodo was hesitant, but after a minute, he shyly placed the impaired limb into his friend's whole one. Sam smiled, kissing the place where Frodo's finger should have been. Frodo blushed deeply.
"Hush, Mr. Frodo. It's all right."
Sam finished cleaning his friend then helped him out of the depressed bathtub. He wrapped him in a warm towel and led him into a spacious room that had two beds. Sam took him to the one on the left wall.
"Here you are, Mr. Frodo. A nice, soft bed for you to sleep in. Do you need anything else?"
"You're not going to leave me, are you?" Frodo asked, glancing around nervously.
"I'm going to sleep in my bed on the other side of the room. Is that all right?"
"Um, yes, I suppose. Goodnight."
"You mean, good day," Sam said, making his way over to his bed and climbing up after pulling the thick curtains closed.
There was the sound of shifting as they got under the blankets then…silence.