The Silver Flame (LOTR)

Slowly Coming To

The world came back to Frodo in soft fragments, as if he were trying to recall a distant, half-remembered dream. His senses drifted slowly to life—the warmth of the blanket wrapped around him, the softness of the bed, and the faint sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows.

He blinked, adjusting to the light, and sat up slowly, feeling as though he was waking from a slumber that had lasted years rather than days. His eyes, still hazy, wandered until they settled on a familiar, radiant figure standing near the window—a figure draped in white, with a gentle smile beaming down at him.

"Gandalf?" Frodo murmured, his voice raw and full of wonder, as though speaking the name might shatter the reality before him. A disbelieving smile crept onto his face, and, as if by magic, a laugh escaped his lips.

Gandalf laughed warmly in return, his eyes twinkling with the light Frodo had feared he would never see again. "Yes, my dear Frodo," he said, his voice rich with affection. "It is I."

Frodo's heart swelled, and his laughter grew, spilling into the room like sunlight as a rush of footsteps announced the arrival of more familiar faces.

"Frodo!" Merry's voice was jubilant as he rushed forward, his face full of delight and relief. Behind him, Pippin's eyes sparkled with tears as he raced to Frodo's side, wrapping him in a fierce hug that was swiftly joined by Merry, their embrace a flurry of hobbit laughter and shared joy.

A hearty laugh filled the air as Gimli appeared, waving his hands in excited gestures, his stout frame barely containing his glee. "Look who's awake!" he cheered. "I knew you'd pull through, Frodo!"

Frodo's heart skipped as Legolas entered, his serene face softened by a rare, full smile, followed closely by Aragorn, his eyes a deep well of gratitude and pride. Frodo's gaze lingered on Aragorn, and he found himself whispering, "Aragorn..."

Aragorn stepped forward, laying a hand gently on Frodo's shoulder. "You did well, Frodo. We all owe you our thanks."

Before Frodo could find the words, a figure appeared behind the fellowship—a tall, silver-haired woman, her gaze filled with warmth and familiarity that seemed to transcend worlds.

"Visenya!" Frodo exclaimed, his eyes widening in joyful surprise.

Visenya stepped forward with a smile, her soft silvery-blue eyes glowing in the gentle light. She moved with an elegant ease, her arms open as she knelt down beside the bed to embrace him. One by one, she hugged each of the hobbits, her laughter mingling with theirs as they greeted her with joy.

"Oh, I've missed you brave souls!" she said, wrapping her arms around Sam, Merry, and Pippin with a warmth that softened her usual regal air. "It's good to see each and every one of you still whole and hearty."

When she finally returned her gaze to Frodo, he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Visenya..." he began, almost sheepishly. "Is it true... do you really ride dragons?"

Visenya's laughter was like music, filling the room with a warm, infectious cheer. "Yes, Frodo, it's true! And they're rather eager to meet the hobbit who helped save them from the shadows."

Frodo laughed, the sound mixing with the chorus of giggles and chuckles from his friends around him. It felt surreal, almost too wondrous to be real, yet the warmth in the room—these friends, this family—grounded him in a reality that felt more vivid than any dream.

Gandalf's gaze softened as he looked around, and he raised his voice slightly. "This is a rare day indeed," he said, his tone light yet full of meaning. "A reunion such as this, where friends can come together not for battle, but for joy."

Sam, sitting beside Frodo, nodded earnestly, his eyes shining. "And after all that, Mr. Frodo, I can hardly believe it myself." His gaze flickered to Visenya. "A dragon rider, right here with us!"

"Oh yes, Samwise," Visenya replied, her voice filled with mirth. "And there are a few dragons who'd be more than happy to meet a brave hobbit like you. I think they're rather fond of the ones who stood against the darkness."

The room burst into laughter again, as Visenya's smile spread from face to face, warming them like a crackling hearth. She seemed, in that moment, both familiar and new, as though she was as much a part of this world as the fellowship itself.

Gimli's gruff voice broke through, a playful challenge in his tone. "Well, I'd say a dragon would have a tough time keeping up with me!"

"Aye, they would!" Legolas chimed in, his eyes twinkling as he nudged Gimli with a grin. "But then again, not everyone's meant for dragonback."

The fellowship exchanged glances, the room filled with warm banter and fond recollections, their laughter rolling over Frodo in waves, each peal of joy reinforcing the peace that had finally, truly come.

When the laughter died down, a comfortable silence settled, as if each friend was savoring the moment, memorizing each face. Frodo took it all in—the glint in Aragorn's eye, the proud tilt of Gimli's chin, the way Merry and Pippin leaned against each other, still chuckling over some shared jest. And there was Visenya, her gaze a blend of kindness and ancient wisdom, a reminder that they were all part of something vast and timeless.

In that moment, Frodo felt a sense of belonging so deep it seemed to dissolve the lingering aches in his body. He was here, truly here, with those who had fought and struggled and triumphed beside him.

And for the first time since the weight of the ring had lifted from his hand, Frodo felt whole again.