Grey ships pass

*** this is just a short story thats basically Frodo's thoughts and feelings as he travels to the undying lands with the elves, there is another chapter to this that I made on a request, but it can stand on its own. No slash or any sexual content for those of you who read that stuff, no torture, rape, etc. And, before I forget, I don't own any of these characters, make no money off of them, and mean no offence to the people who play them, or J.R.R. Tolkien the the fans of these characters, I just happen to like writing fanfic, and they just happen to be the characters that I'm using. So if you don't like fanfic, well your way off course then arnt you, and you should probably turn back now. For the rest of you who understand that stuff I just wrote, go ahead and continue. Well, for those of you who do read this, did you know that you just waisted, like, two minutes reading this message when you could have been reading the story or something else instead?***

***Grey Ships Pass***

Frodo knew his departure was hurting Sam gravely, as it was hurting him as well, though perhaps in different ways. Frodo felt relief that he may finally, r thr the long journey to Mount Doom and back, be able to get some rest and peace. But he also felt sorrow. He would miss his Sam, and Merry, and Pippin, and all his other friends greatly, though he would be glad to get away from the restlessness that the Shire now seemed to posses. He watched as several more of the elves boarded the vast grey ship and sighed, whether it be of content, or grief, he was not sure, but he knew he had to leave with them. He would always miss the Shire and the hobbits he had shared it with, but he could not stay there any longer, and somehow, he was not filled with grief to have to say goodbye to the Shire and the busy hobbits of it, rather at having to say goodbye to Sam, Pippin, and Merry, and all the memories the Shire possessed.

Frodo was surprised when he heard hoof beats coming up behind him, and turned to see if perhaps some elves had arrived late. But the hoof beats did not belong to that of a fair horse that bore an elven rider, but rather to small hill ponies, and riding hastily towards him and Sam on the backs of these ponies, were Merry and Pippin. Amid his tears Pippin laughed. ‘You tried to give us the slip once before and failed, Frodo,’ he said, as Frodo stared at him with an open mouth, caught between anger, confusion, joy, and sorrow, eventually settling on joy and confusion at seeing his cousins here one last time. ‘This time you have nearly succeeded, but you have failed again.’ Pippin continued. ‘But it was not Sam, though, that gave you this time, but Gandalf himself!’
‘Yes,’ said Gandalf; ‘for it will be better to ride back three together than one alone. Well, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the Sea come the end of our fellowship in Middle-earth. Go in peace! I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.’

Frodo set aside his confusion and, for Sam’s sake, hid his grief, and kissed Merry and Pippin, and last of all Sam, before turning towards the great ship, and boarding it, Gandalf following close behind him. Frodo looked down at his three friends standing on the shores, and they looked back at him, tears running slowly down their cheeks, though Merry and Pippin smiled and waved at him, Sam merely stared back, tears running down his face, his sorrow showing clearly on his face and in his eyes. Frodo smiled to him, hoping it would give him some comfort, though he expected it would not, and blinked back the tears that were forming in his own eyes.

The sails of the great grey ship were drawn up, and it seemed that time slowed down to Frodo. He listened to all the sounds that surrounded him, the footsteps of the people aboard the ship, the sea-gulls harsh cries as they circled above him, the swish of the waves against the side of the boat and on the shore. Suddenly a great wind picked up and filled the sails, making the ship scrape against the sand that it’s underside was still touching, and then begin to sail off along the waves. Frodo reached into his vest pocket and drew out the small glass that held the light of Earendil Galadriel had given him so long ago. He lifted it into the air, and the light shone brighter then it ever had, brighter than in Shelob’s lair, brighter than in Cirith Ungol.

The light cut through the mist that had begun to surround the boat like a hot knife through butter, and Frodo knew that Sam and the others would be able to see it, and hoped it would give them some comfort. Amazingly enough, even with all the fog and the distance between them, Frodo could still make out the shores of the grey havens, and the six tiny figures that were Sam, Merry, Pippin and their ponies. A great wave slapped the side of the boat, and suddenly the whole vision disappeared into the fog. Frodo held the glass aloft for a few more minutes, before gently replacing it in his vest pocket, and at that moment, full realisation struck Frodo. He had known that he would never be able to return once he had boarded the ship, and that he would never see Merry, Pippin, the Shire, and perhaps even Sam again, but until now he had never grasped the full meaning of it, never really realised how much it would ache to say goodbye to them... to the rest of the fellowship... to home.

Frodo remembered how much it hur hurt when Faramir had told him of Boromir’s death, though he had never been close to Boromir, or even trusted him much, it had still hurt to learn that one of his friends, and member of the fellowship, had died because of the accursed Ring. The ache then and the ache now were similer, and yet different. This time he was losing not one, but many friends, far more dear to him then Boromir had been, though they were not dead, yet anyway, but he was also not on a journey that seemed to be folly, and doomed to fail, to a place dreaded by even most evil creatures with the most powerful weapon ever known to Middle-earth. This time he was going on a vast grey ship to the undying lands with the elves, and Bilbo and Gandalf, but saying goodbye forever to those most dear to him.

He sighed and continued to stare out at the horizon, though he could see nothing but vast amounts of fog and water. He started a little when he som someone’s hand on his shoulder, and turned his head to see who it was. He found the hand belonged to Gandalf. The old wizarilediled down at him, and it seemed as though he had aged several years in the brief period of time they had been sailing.
‘May I join you?’ He asked politely, and Frodo gave a small nod, turning his attention back to the vast waters before him. He felt Gandalf’s eyes on him and turned to look at the wizard. Gandalf starred back at him intently for a few minutes before speaking.
‘Sam will be just fine.’ He said knowingly. It used to amaze Frodo how much the wizard could tell just by looking at someone’s eyes, but now he had gotten used to it and didn’t pay it much heed.
‘I know he will.’ Frodo replied, turning back to the waters stretched out before him. Gandalf was silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
‘You did not cry when you left.’ He pointed out. Frodo was not sure where he was going with this, and did not persist in finding out. He knew perfectly well he hadn’t cried.
‘I think it might have done both of you some good.’ He continued, not heeding Frodo’s silence. ‘It would have brought you release of your feelings, and it would have given Samssurssurance.’ Frodo felt anger inside him at the old wizard next to him that he could not explain, he just wished he would leave him alone for a little while. After Gandalf did not continue, Frodo finally asked.
‘Reassurance of what exactly?’ The question had come out harsher then he had meant it to, but he did not regret that. Gandalf did not seem to notice anyway.
‘Reassurance that you will really miss the Shire and him as much as he will miss you.’ This confused Frodo slightly.
‘He knows that I’ll miss all of them. Especially him!’ Frodo felt the anger starting to bubble over and hoped that Gandalf would let him be before he lashed out at him.
‘He knows that well enough, deep in his heart and mind, but it would have helped if he had seen you cry and seen your grief at having to leave.’ That was it, Frodo’s anger spilled over the edge, and he found himself whipping around to face the wizard, backing away slightly, and yelling at him.
‘What do you know about it?’ He asked harshly ‘how do you know that it would not just have upset Sam even more to see me cry! Besides, maybe I didn’t want to cry, or even need to! I didn’t see tears in your eyes when you said goodbye!’ Frodo stood panting, staring at the annoyingly calm Gandalf standing before him, and realisation of what he had just done sunk its hideous claws into him. He let out an exasperated sigh and sank to his knees, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto the grey boards of the ships deck.
‘I’m sorry Gandalf.’ He said. ‘I don’t know why I said that.’ Gandalf came over and placed a comforting hand on his trembling shoulders.
‘It’s alright Frodo. And though you may not understand why you attacked me, I do.’ Frodo was reminded with a pang of his attack on Sam during the quest, and that made him cry even harder.
‘You are merely grieving Frodo, you will feel better soon enough. You just need some rest, and perhaps some time alone to gather your thoughts.’ Gandalf said serenely, and then added with a small chuckle ‘I know I have to do that all the time.’ Frodo felt some of his grief ebb away and, wiping his eyes, looked up and gave Gandalf a small smile. Yes thank-you Gandalf, I suppose I just need some time to myself.’ He stood up, and looked around. The deck was deserted, save the the few who were making sure the ship stayed on its proper course. He looked back at Gandalf, who had been watching him. He actually didn’t know where he was to stay during the journey. Gandalf gave another little chuckle.
‘Follow me Frodo, and I’ll show you to your room.’ Frodo smiled and followed Gandalf gratefully. He was suddenly extremely glad that the wizard was with him. Perhaps he would help to ease the pain of parting with Middle-earth even more so than Frodo had thought.

Frodo had lost count of how long they had been traveling, only knew that it must have been several days and nights. He was standing on the deck, the same place he had stood when they had departed from the grey havens, staring out into the misty night. He had not been able to sleep for some reason, and now was one of the few awake one deck. The rain was falling on him in thick grey sheets, but he did not heed it, n fact he found it rather enjoyable for the most part, as it kept most away, and it helped him organize his thoughts and relax. He had been avoiding the other people aboard the ship for the most part, though he expected Gandalf had asked them to leave him alone, and he was thankful for it. Even Bilbo had given him his room, though Bilbo slept away most of the days usually. Suddenly the mist and the fog thinned, and a sweet fragrance filled his nose. He lifted his head and sniffed, but could not place the smell. The wind began to die down, which was not very good for travel, though Frodo suspected he was the only one who really noticed, as it was only very early morning. Then he heard something. A sound that he had not heard for a very long time, though he traveled with elves, and that you certainly wouldn’t expect to hear while sailing. Singing. He could hear a sweet singing coming from somewhere in the mist. Frodo’s heart skipped a beat as he realised that they must be close to land. And then it seemed that as his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores, and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.

There were elves waiting to greet the ship on the shores, and in the distance Frodo could see smoke swirling high in the air, most likely from chimneys or somesuch. Frodo heard shout behind him, and a great amount of commotion down below as the people who, moments ago had been sleeping, rushed to get dressed and come uptop. A few minutes later Frodo felt the presence of someone walking towards him, felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, and without looking up at Gandalf he spoke.
‘Well;’ He said. ‘Were home.’ And then a smile played across his lips as the ship landed, and they began to descend. Gandalf did not take his hand off of Frodo’s shoulder, and after they had reached the shores, and gotten past the crowds of elves and creatures waiting to greet them, or making their way of the ships, Gandalf turned in front of Frodo, kneeled down, and, smiling, said ‘Yes Frodo. We are home.’