April 8
Aragorn looked down at Frodo and Sam as they lay sleeping. It was almost a fortnight since the Ring had been destroyed, and the two hobbits, barely alive, had been brought out of the fire. They slept on, unaware of his scrutiny. Cuts, bruises, and burns had all but healed, their labored breaths through seared lungs now deep and even, their sleep peaceful.
Aragorn knelt between the two and smoothed Sam's hair away from his forehead. The vicious gash had healed quite well, and only a faint scar would remain. He smiled to think that Sam would soon be up and wanting to cook his master some breakfast -- but there would be no cooking for the faithful gardener while he was in Gondor, for there were those who would beg for the honor of serving him.
His gaze then fell upon Frodo, who slept as quietly as Sam. It seemed that, any moment, Frodo would awaken as casually as one might on a gentle Shire morning.
It came clear to him how dearly he held Frodo in his esteem and affection. Since he had first met the seemingly careless and accident-prone hobbit after he crashed to the floor in a heap of broken crockery, the road travelled by both of them had been longer than by the simple standards of time. Truly, Frodo was more dear to his heart than many who had been with him through far longer travels.
Aragorn caught his breath as the ghost of a feeling suddenly flashed and was gone. As he gazed at Frodo before him, another, younger face superimposed itself in his mind. A younger Frodo? But as he searched Frodo's visage looking for he knew not what, the image faded.
A hand descended upon his shoulder.
"You are deep in thought, my friend," Gandalf said.
Aragorn frowned. "For a moment, I thought that I could see Frodo, much younger, in my mind. But it was fleeting. No sooner did the image appear before me, it was gone." He stood and faced the wizard. "It is strange, but suddenly I felt as if I had known him for much longer than I had thought."
Gandalf said nothing, but looked down at the two hobbits.
"How long have you known Frodo?" Aragorn suddenly asked. A wistful feeling rose in him.
"I met him a year or two after he came to live at Bag End with Bilbo,” the wizard replied.
Aragorn sighed. "I wish that I could have had that chance -- to know Frodo before he took on the burden and was untroubled by the Ring."
“Aragorn,” Gandalf said quietly. Aragorn looked into Gandalf’s eyes, and the wizard looked back, with a deep and penetrating gaze. Suddenly, it seemed to Aragorn as if a curtain lifted, allowing him to see a clear picture -- where before there had been only darkness. Laughter, discovery, kindred spirits…
Startled, Aragorn sank to his knees and peered closely at the hobbit lying in front of him, his mind and memory suddenly ablaze with light and clarity. Young boys, camaraderie, caring. Nestled underground rooms, cramped but full of love… little one… It must have been the trolls again, Bilbo… campsites in the woods… You’re supposed to be protecting hobbits, not eating them, you silly Ranger… trust… such courage… love gives us strength and courage when we need it most… Will you remember me? I will never forget you, Frodo; I cannot imagine that anyone ever could. Remember me…
Aragorn gasped and faced the wizard, his eyes flooding with tears.
“What did you do?” he cried in shock. “By what right did you steal such precious memories?”
Gandalf looked at him gravely. “I ask pardon, that I am only returning them to you now. I took something dear to you -- to all of you -- for a reason I believed necessary.”
"And what could that be?” Anger stirred within the Ranger. "I have never known you to intrude on my very thoughts."
"How much do you now remember?"
"Enough to know that Frodo had been dear to me, as if he were my own son.” Aragorn laid a hand to Frodo's cheek, and then upon his brow. Resentment welled within him as he saw, with new understanding, the gentle lad now grown and touched by the hurts and evils he had suffered.
"Then tell me, Ranger of the North, heir of Isildur and Elendil, would you have let this hobbit, dear to you, walk into Mordor bearing the One Ring? You knew the possible dangers ahead of him: hunger, fear, imprisonment, torture… would you willingly have let one as precious to you as your own son go forth to such a fate?"
Shocked, Aragorn bowed his head. "I would not have done so willingly. But whether I could have done so at all -- that I do not know."
"Then give an old man some leeway, in understanding what letting Frodo go to Mordor would have done to you, and in wishing to spare you the anxiety and guilt."
"But that did not give you the right to meddle with my thoughts!" Aragorn turned away, anguished.
"Did it not?" The wizard's voice was sharp. "There was a war to be won, peoples to be safeguarded from slavery and Shadow. You could have not have accomplished all you did, had Frodo and Sam not been permitted to walk willingly toward what awaited them. Aragorn, you believed your bloodline, the failings of your ancestors, to be your weakness. But he was your weakness! A weakness that could have brought ruin for all."
"But you let him go forth! He was not a weakness to you! And yet you could not trust my judgment." Aragorn’s words were bitter, yet he could not withhold them.
Gandalf wearily sat by Frodo's side. "I knew that he was our only hope. Forgive me, for I know that I have erred, in your judgment."
"I will forgive you, my old friend. But I will not forget,” Aragorn said. “This is the last time that I shall be protected from anything. I cannot be king and have my motives and decisions disregarded by one of my trusted counsellors."
"That is as it should be,” Gandalf agreed, “for soon I shall leave; my time in Middle-earth is coming to an end. You have come into your birthright, Elessar, and it is no longer the time when wizards should meddle in your affairs."
"You clouded my memories,” Aragorn murmured, “and that of the hobbits, as well. All of them.”
“Yes,” Gandalf said simply. “For all of you, your time together began that night in Bree, when you met and traveled as strangers.”
“Will Frodo remember when he awakens?" Aragorn asked suddenly.
"That I will leave up to you,” Gandalf said thoughtfully. “This same ability lies within you, Aragorn; do as you deem best for both him and yourself."
After the wizard had left, Aragorn gazed for a long time at the fair face still lost in sweet forgetfulness, weighing all that he had heard. Then, for the second time, his hand covered the pale brow. He closed his eyes and reached out, gently parting the darkness that shrouded Frodo’s memories.
“Come back now, little one,” Aragorn called softly. “It is time to awaken.”
And he opened his eyes to a smiling face, blue eyes wide with wonder and joy.
The End
First > Previous > End of the
Quarantined
series.
Return
of the King >... > By Chance or Purpose:
Epilogue >