Eternally Bond

The Feast

2. The Feast

About a week after being brought into the safe city of the elves, Frodo awoke.

When he first opened his eyes, he had felt weary in a way he had not known possible. Drained, as if having exerted himself physically, despite having been confined to bed for so many days. It had taken him several more hours, and the helpful hand of Lord Elrond, before Frodo had regained his strength enough to walk outside and see the wonders of the elvish architecture he'd thus far only heard of. The entire time, Sam had remained by his side.

Frodo had never been more thankful than now that it was Sam and no other hobbit that had spied beneath his window back in the Shire. Frodo was sure that if Gandalf had made anyone else accompany him, they would never have been such an honest, true friend as Sam had proven to be. Indeed, the gardener's unwavering belief in Frodo's full recovery even affected the mind of Frodo. With Sam by his side, it did not take many hours before Frodo found himself smiling again.

Despite it all, however, something was different. Frodo had been blessed with life once more, but things were not the same. Something, or possibly everything, had changed now. He didn't know what it was nor would he have known how to describe it, he merely knew that he was no longer the same hobbit that had left Bag-End not long ago. And he could never go back to being that hobbit.

When he had accepted the task of transporting the Ring to Imladris, Frodo had done the opposite of what most hobbits strove for in their life time. Most desired nothing more than a comfortable, safe life and some nice tobacco. In the last few days, Frodo had seen more of the world than ever before in his life and almost been killed several times.

He had to live with his choices. And, for some reason, Frodo had a feeling it couldn't just end here. From this point, he could only move forward, despite how desperately he might want to just go back. He had to accept that his life would never be the same he once had lived.

Frodo, however, didn't quite know where to go from here.

For one thing, he was still in possession of the One Ring. It still lay tucked safely at the bottom of his vest pocket, where it had been ever since he left home. He'd asked Gandalf if it was not time to give it to the elves, but the wizard had asked him to keep it. For just a little while longer.

There had been something more to Gandalf's request, Frodo was sure of it. But whatever it was, it wasn't something the wizard was ready to share yet.

Frodo and Sam decided to take a slow stroll through one of the gardens while the sun was still out so that Frodo could see more of the city.

Imladris was located in a fertile valley, with the massive mountains around it which offered great protection for the city's inhabitants. As Sam gushed about the wonders of the elves, Frodo had to admit he rather liked it, too.

He had never before seen such variations of colours dance in the tree crowns above or in the flowers below. They all ranged from deepest forest green to the softest of lavender and in some cases as dark as the bare earth.

Sam had once pointed out a reddish, handsome flower and had, in a somewhat distant voice, said that it reminded him of Rosie Cotton's hair when she danced in the light of a fire. Frodo had seen his friend's cheeks burn warm with a blush, but had kindly not commented upon it. He had, however, been unable to hide his warm smile at his friend's obvious affection for the hobbit lady.

If time would be on their side, maybe Sam would be home within a week, dancing by her side. If ever he could work up the courage for it!

The hobbits had been given free passage through the city to go wherever they pleased and it still marveled Sam any time they saw one of the tall people. Frodo had to agree that most of the fair people were a sight for sore eyes. Slender they were, yet not thin beyond what could be counted as normal. Gracious and proud, always with their heads held high and a posture which seemed could never slouch.