365

mar.24.22

The strange human had been sleeping for a long time; in the middle of the night, she woke up, screaming her lungs out, as if she were being stabbed to death. Frodo's uncle, Bilbo Baggins, always woke, and held the human in his arms, until he could stop her tears of agony. Frodo would sit out in the hall on those nights, listening quietly, as his uncle held the human in his arms and kept saying, "I am not Fili, but I will keep the monsters away."

Frodo hated her screams; it sounded like her soul had been shattered into countless pieces, and she'd never be able to pick them all up.

Sometimes when she slept during the day, exhausted from no sleep the night before and forced to sleep from herbs Bilbo made her drink in tea, Frodo would sit in a chair at her bedside with a book; he told his uncle he was reading and thought he should stay close in case he needed to help, but he just wanted to learn more about the human girl. He noticed how pale her skin was, how her cheeks sunk in and how she looked lifeless though she was alive. He noticed the blond braid in her hair with the metal bead, tied behind her ear with her brown hair. He noticed the scars in her skin, red and strong, never disappearing.

Frodo left his book on the chair on one of these days, and found his uncle in his study. He asked his uncle about the human.

"She's frail, and I fear she's dying of a broken heart," Bilbo answered. "Her love died in battle long ago, but for her, it felt like a few moments ago. She is trapped on the battlefield, clutching a lifeless body, hoping it will breathe once more when it won't."

"Is there anything we can do to help her?" Frodo asked.

"Chase away the monsters, as best we can."

Frodo returned to the girl's room; she was sitting up in her bed, cross legged beneath a quilt, eyes down. She tenderly held the braid in her hair, lost in thought. She hadn't screamed when she woke; she always screamed in her nightmares, forcing her awake.

"Good morning," Frodo greeted gently.

The girl looked up; her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from tears. Their colour was a grey shade, like shale stone on a riverside. "Good morning," she greeted back; her voice was weak, shaky and strained from crying and screaming for so many nights.

Frodo stepped into the room, and strode to the bedside table. There, he poured a mug of water from the pitcher, and held the cup out to her. He was careful to watch his movements, not to move too fast around her.

She accepted the mug carefully, holding it with two hands. Her shaking hands lifted the mug to her mouth, and she sipped the water. She shook like she was cold, Frodo noticed. "May I fetch you another blanket?" he asked.

Lowering the mug, she shook her head. "I am not cold."

Frodo sat down in his chair beside the bed, setting his book on the table beside him with the water. "You shake so, as though you are."

She held a shaky hand to him. "Touch my skin; I am not cold. Not a fever, either."

Frodo held her hand in both of his; her hands were warm, but not overly. Aside from her shakiness and pale shade, she was as normal as normal could be.

"You didn't scream," Frodo said then, watching her. "You woke on your own accord."

She nodded once. "Aye, I did." She closed her eyes for a moment, tightly. "I meant, yes. Yes, I did." Her eyes opened then; they were glazed over. "I've been around dwarfs, you see. I've taken their tongue, and now it sounds strange, after...." She exhaled shakily. "Well, after everything."

"I don't mind the way it sounds," Frodo said with a kind smile. "It's alright by me."

The corner of her lips curled up at his words. "Thank you. You're kind."

Frodo watched her carefully; he wanted to ask her about everything, but didn't want to hurt her further. His eyes landed on the blond braid in her hair.

She watched him. "It was Fili's," she said, referring to the braid. "We were wed. And an Orc killed him in battle."

"I'm sorry." The words were automatic. "He is who you scream to."

She nodded once. "Yes. But not today, I didn't." She took a slow breath; her lungs ached. "I saw him again. But this time, it wasn't on the battlefield, where I'd always been seeing him, where I couldn't prevent his death. This time, I saw him on the riverbank in the mountains, sitting on golden sand and smoking his pipe – black cherries and birch." She smiled at the image of him. "I sat with him; I thought I was being quiet, but he heard me. I thought I'd dreamt the battlefield, and I was back in the real world.

"But I didn't dream it. He asked me why I wouldn't wake up. And why I wouldn't live." She met Frodo's eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "And I said it was because I was afraid. I missed him. I couldn't imagine life without him. I was scared to go on living if he wasn't going to be there with me.

"His blue eyes smiled at me. And he said, "I will always be here for you, for when you join me again. I'll always be in your heart when you breathe, when you live. I'll always be in her mind to ward off the nightmares, the monsters. But you must go back. You cannot be trapped somewhere that will destroy you." He said I needed to live, if not for me, then for him. For what could have been. So I can tell him all about it when I see him again." She smiled through her tears. "He helped me wake up."

Frodo suddenly hugged her; she hugged him back. Her fingers clung to his shirt in fistfuls, and the tears fell forth; it was like walls came crashing down, and reality was kicking in, and she finally felt something. She felt alive. And it was a terrifying and exilerating experience to suddenly feel after praying for death.

"I am not Fili, nor will I ever be," Frodo began, his arms holding her tightly against him. "But I will help you live, so you will one day see him again. You will have so much to tell him." He took a quick breath. "I will help keep the monsters away."

She could not form words; she cried, but they were tears of joy, not tears of grief. She held onto Frodo like her life depended on it, like she'd fall if she didn't hold him tightly.

At the door, Bilbo watched them. He smiled and looked up, knowing Fili was up there somewhere, happy that his Lullaby was safe now: away from the monsters and living in today.