Meldamiriel (Mehl-dah-meer-ee-ell)

A LOTR Fanfic: Larkspur Louisa Brandybuck was a wanderer. She dreamed of going on adventures to find out about her real family. The truth was, she wasn't really a Brandybuck, and Merry wasn't really her brother. Will all of her dreams of adventure come true when she meets the mysterious Frodo Baggins, or will she get more than she bargined for? - I do not own the story of LOTR. All credit goes to Tolkien. This is just my fictional version of the story. Please comment. Complete.

Chapter 46

Where the Forest Meets the Sea

Frodo turned to Sam, Merry, and Pippin. Sam clasped his arm. "What does he mean?"

Frodo covered his hand over Sam's grip. His eyes were empty. They told the story. His voice was smooth and tired, but soothing. "We set out to save the Shire, Sam, and it has been saved, but not for me."

My hand flew to my mouth as my breathing hitched. Sam choked on his tears. "No," he sobbed. "You don't mean that. You can't leave!"

My stomach was twisted up in a knot at my feet. My breathing came staggered and harsh; it was difficult to inhale around the large lump of tears notched in my throat, and my lungs struggled against the weight of the world that was coming crashing down on me. The ringing in my ears was so violent, I couldn't hear as Frodo handed the Red Book he asked me to bring to Sam. My brain was in denial. He wasn't leaving. Why would he leave? He had so many reasons not to and maybe one to leave. Frodo was strong, and he had endured so much pain. Why would he give up now? Why would he rather go to a mysterious land instead of being home, where he belonged? Why would he want to leave his home behind? Why leave the happy, peace he created? Why would he want to leave the Shire behind and his best friend Sam? Why was he deserting me and--I choked on my distraught. Everything was blurred lumps through my eyes. He hugged the three sobbing hobbits goodbye, lingering on Sam, even kissing him caringly on the head and nodded to Diamond.

Then he melded his sullen, crystal angle hues with mine. My breath hitched, and the warm tears tumbled down my face. His eyes were the color of the water he was destined to sail off on; the clammy color of parting.

He skated to me as if he were floating on air, as daintily as a cloud and as unreal as a shadow. Reaching out for me, his slender fingers were almost translucent in the setting sunlight. He was foreign to me. I flinched and trembled at his touch. A familiar warm sensation filled my body. It was as if I had eaten a bite of lembas bread, my soul filling with sunlight. But it was not warm enough to melt the ice in my veins. He pulled my hands away from my mouth, lacing them in his. As always, the still fit perfectly, and I was reminded of the night we were married.

Feeling bare, I shied my eyes from his, tears running down in a stream from my nose. A few moments later he cupped my chin up so he could search my watery eyes.

I shuddered in a shaky breath and spoke softy, as if the mere force of my words could shatter his existence forever. "Why are you leaving? Do you aim to just leave me to die here of a broken heart?" My voice rose as my passion for him grew. "After all you've done--all we've done--to make sure we could live a life of peace together, you say you're leaving anyway. After everything we've been through together." I was breaking down and sobbing now. "Do you remember what you promised me? You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised!" My heart was smashing into a million pieces, my frozen veins shattering. Frodo's eyes were filled with hurt and anguish. I was killing him. "You promised me you'd be with me always. Always!" I moaned. He cradled my head against his shoulder, and I cried into his neck, sobbing hysterically. How could someone so familiar, be so foreign. "Was everything you told me a lie?" My voice was muffled against him.

"No," he answered swiftly. "No, nothing I ever told you was a lie."

"Why?" I sniffled. "Why would you do this-to me?" My arms were wrapped around him so tightly that I swear I could make him stay by doing so.

"Shh." He rubbed my back, tracing circular patterns on my shoulder blades. His voice broke with the weight of unshed tears. "You think I-I want to go?" He stuttered, which only made me choke more. "You think I really want to leave you? I can't control it, Larks. I have to go, or I will never find peace here."

The truth felt worse than any wound I'd ever bared. No matter how close to myself I held Frodo, he was lost. I was hugging a shadow of the reason I lived, the shadow of my joy of life. And he was gone beyond reach, beyond hope. And as I held him, I knew that this was God's punishment for me. A punishment for taking Frodo for granted, even though I'd had a million warnings not to. This penalty was worse than any of my other warnings, because I knew now he loved me and I loved him beyond measure. And just when we had confessed our love, we were to be separated beyond connection, forever. Breathing into Frodo's curls, I knew this goal would be best for him. But was I selfless and brave enough, could I bear to let him go?

Everything about the moment washed through my mind: the glossiness of his curls under my fingertips, the strong muscles in his back, the heat of his body transferring to mine, the free beat of his golden heart in his chest. It was the most soothing sound I had ever heard in the world; it beat against my own heart, matching mine in tempo. In that moment, I realized he was mine. He could never entirely leave me. His soul was attached to mine, had burned a mark in mine so deep it would never heal for the rest of eternity.

I tilted my head up to his face and placed my hands over his heart. "I will be with you," I whispered into his eyes. "In here."

The tears came tumbling down again. Somehow, looking into his face made my heart yearn for a cure to his despair. It was poison, heavy and black, as contagious as pollen in a hurricane. His eyes murmured of memory. Our memories, short-lived though they were, were as precious as starlight. I could see our wedding, racing through the trees on Wednesdays after tea, Frodo with his back to me as he wrote in fancy letters, the smell of ink stagnant in his hair as I kissed him.

I had forever dreamed we'd spend the rest of our lives together and had taken my time with him for granted. Those were the thoughts lodged in my throat.

He rested my cheek in the palm of his hand. I blinked down hard on my tears. He moved them off my face with his graceful fingers.

Everything about that moment was tragically perfect. The orange fire of the setting sun set the outline of his skin ablaze, like he was touched by heaven, the fading light surrounding his curls. The light reflected off the glassy surface of the water and shone in his watery eyes. The moment was as despairing beautiful as a fallen angel. I couldn't bear my sorrow anymore.

"My tears aren't about you, they're for you," I confessed and choked again. His thumb desperately smoothed over my lips. A faint smile played with the pain on his face.

"You remember the last verse to the Elves' parting song?" He inhaled and moved closer to me, kissing a tear off my cheek. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he whispered, "I shall not really leave you, darling." A chill went down my spine. The power of his last words echoed in my mind for years after. He spoke magic into my soul: "You and I will meet again."

My eyes were closed when his prescience slipped out of my reach like a ghost. My heart ached as I lost him on the ship. I desperately tried to dream up something to say, something to do to bring him back to me. But his soul was gone. And there was nothing I could do to bring him back.

Merry's arm was around me, but I didn't feel it until I opened my eyes. The glare off the water blinded me for a second, but I saw the ship slip away from the dock and my soul went away with it.

I didn't let my eyes leave the ship until it sailed into the horizon, the horizon that reminded me so much of Frodo's eyes. I knew that when it left the bay, a part of my heart would leave with it too.

Though, the most devastating thing about the whole day wasn't that Frodo left me; it wasn't the fact that I'd never see him again. No, the one thing that will haunt me forever, years and years later was that as soon as the ship left that shores of Middle Earth, Frodo turned to me and smiled. After years of struggle and pain of the Ring, Frodo was finally happy. And I'd gladly give away my own soul for that.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


My home had never looked so blue, though nothing had changed in the landscape since I left. All the Hobbit-holes were still neatly lined in rows on the grassy hills. Yellow flashes from fireflies danced in the orange, setting sun. Farmers--still tilling the fields and milling through the market, selling their crops--merged scene of peaceful chaos into the streets. The foliage, where I stood gazing over the town, was as lush as I'd ever seen it. But everything looked dreary and felt wrong to me. I guess that's what happens when you leave your soul in another place forever.

Frodo changed everything. He changed my view on life. I didn't exist until I met him, and then my life was perfect. I loved him ever since I first saw him. I prayed he at least tolerated me, but no, he loved me. He loved me. And now he was gone, gone forever across the sea.

I didn't realize I was crying until my lips were salty. He was everywhere. No place on this earth existed without him. I could see his ghost running through the South-Farthing foliage, dancing under the Party Tree, riding into the square with Gandalf. He was still here. He would always be here, and I wished that he would just leave.

I swiped my hand under my eyes and moped down the hill into the market.

People glanced over at me as they bartered for pumpkins and tomatoes. All of a sudden, my clothes were sheet thin. I pulled my cloak up higher around my neck, people's whisperings sending my pace more brisk.

They came again, wetting my cheeks out of nowhere. I couldn't take the stares anymore. I ran out of the market and up the path, stumbling as my vision became watery.

Almost past the garden gate, I stopped. The red flag was still poking itself up off the letterbox in an act of defiance. Pulling myself together with a sign, I turned and flicked it down. The china was still on the cobblestone like a dead animal. Another leathery envelope of sticking out of the letterbox. I took it out without thinking, but as soon as I saw the handwriting on the front, my heart started to separate.

It read: "My darling, Meldamiriel" in slender calligraphy. For an eternity I stood there clutching the last memory of my soul with trembling hands. I couldn't bring myself to open it. But then I couldn't shove it back in the letterbox and go on. These were his last words. I convinced myself he wanted me to read whatever was in this letter. Finally, I took a shaky breath and delicately pulled at the wax seal.

"My darling, By the time you read this, I will surely be gone. I imagine you will never forgive me for not informing you of my departure in advance. I wouldn't blame you. What I did was cruel, but for the best. I couldn't have you attempting to find loopholes in my intent. Even if you did, there are none. I've already tried.

"You probably despise me for what has happened. But you have to believe I never wanted this to happen either. If I had the choice, I would be back at Bag-End, by your side, with my arms around you for the rest of my days and this letter would not exist. I'd do anything in the world to be with you now. Anything. But it seems I've got to save myself.

"The Ring, for the past four years, has been killing me slowly, and the wound from Weathertop never healed. The only place where I can live, out of the pained life, is where I am now. But really I am being killed in either place. There by the memory of the Ring and here by the absence of you.

"There is a cure for that though. Before you know it, you will be with me again. You were a Ringbearer for a short while and so was Sam. Soon you will find that there is nothing left for you in the Shire, and you will wander to the Havens and sail to the horizon. I will be waiting there at the shore for you.

"Until that time, keep Galadriel's shell close. She says it will be of the greatest use to you in these next years to come.

"I promised you I would always be with you, and I broke that promise. I despise myself for that. To see you in pain is torture. I am so sorry. My apology in unacceptable. I hate not being with you, but soon we will meet again, and I will never leave your side, even in death. I love you, Larkspur, until the ends of time. Dance in the meadows, my angel. Frodo Baggins."

My heart was broken again by the end of the letter, but I was determined to fix it. I held the paper to my heart and treasured the words on the page. Not all was lost. There was still hope. A fool's hope, but there was hope. Frodo had given it to me, and it was more sacred than a bouquet of roses. He was mine, and we would be together again. For the millionth time, he had saved my life.

Daylight streamed in through the slits of my eyes. The dream was running away, and I chased it, forlorn. It took me a few moments to realize I was back in the big bed of the master's bedroom in Bag-End, and the reason there was so much room in the bed was that I was alone. I wasn't under the stars with Frodo. It came back in a rush.

Lying in the spacious bed, I closed my eyes again. The hole was quiet, almost too quiet. The only noise I could hear was the birds chirping outside.

This was going to be difficult to get used to.

I imagined Frodo lying next to me, him stroking my hair and whispering sweet things to me. Or just saying my name over and over...

"Larkspur."

Frodo? My eyes shot open; I bolted up in bed. My heart drummed in my ears faster and faster.

I was going mad. I wanted Frodo to be here so desperately I was hearing things.

"Larkspur?"

But there it was again. I was losing my head.

"Darling, are you there?"

Okay, now it was undeniable I had heard his voice. It was coming from the study table. The contents were odd. A book with its pages open, a quill, some parchment, and...Galadriel's shell.

Frodo had said it would be useful in the next few years. Did Galadriel predict this? I half hoped it would work, and I would hear his voice again. I slowly picked up the conch shell and held it up to my ear.

The waves crashed down in the shell. I inhaled slowly with nervousness. "H-hello?" I whispered.

There was a pause. I cursed myself for my stupidity, but a second later a sweet, smooth voice came along with the sound of the waves. "Larks?"

My lip trembled. "Frodo?"

A gasp. "I can't believe it's you my Meldamiriel."

~~~~End.~~~~

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