Title: The Guilt of the Wise
Author: Frodo Baggins of Bag End (FrodoAtBagEnd/Febobe)

E-mail: febobe at yahoo dot com

Characters: Frodo, Gandalf, Aragorn, Elrond, Galadriel, Arwen, others to be announced
Rating: PG-13 for dark thematic elements and some mild medical content this chapter (probably less than PG-13, but rated thus for extra caution). This story falls within the guidelines of the FrodoHealers group in both letter and spirit, free from profanity or sexual content.

Feedback: Welcomed. Constructive only, please. . .no flaming.

Summary: In the aftermath of the Ring's destruction, those who advised the Ringbearer along his way come face to face with Frodo's condition and their own roles in his suffering. (No, this one isn't a deathfic. :) )

Story Notes/Announcements: Title suggested by the wonderful Lorie945. :) Actually, I was writing some individual stories, and it was Lorie who suggested that this might make just such a series. . . . Thanks, Lorie:D Also, Firith means fading, autumn, and/or late. Daernaneth means grandmother.

For permission to reproduce any part of this fanfic, please contact febobe at yahoo dot com.

DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and story of The Lord of the Rings are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and consequently of the Tolkien Estate, with select rights by Tolkien Enterprises. This piece appears purely as fanfiction and is not intended to claim ownership of Tolkien's work in any way. Please e-mail me if you have concerns. Original characters presented are my own work; please do not use my creations in your work. Please respect my original contributions. Furthermore, please do NOT consider any treatments or remedies within this story safe or effective for use: these are included as fictitious hobbit care, not real human medical practice, and while some can indeed be traced to actual therapeutic practices, could be dangerous. Please consult your health care professional before treating yourself or others for any condition or symptom.

The Guilt of the Wise

Part the Third: Firith - Galadriel's Tale

"Like Celebrian."

"Yes." Elrond's voice was thick with grief as he stood beside me, watching Arwen from just outside the Ringbearer's room, where she she fussed and cooed as if Frodo were one of her dolls so many years ago.

Neither of us spoke for some time. Arwen did not notice us; her attention was given over completely to her little one, who lay cradled in her arms, being fed his supper. I felt grateful, for her eyes accused me when they met my face.

Accusations without words, without names, without answers.

"Have you considered?"

"Yes." I watched as Arwen shifted the bundle in her lap, rubbing his back and offering the feeding-cup once more, coaxing in low notes.

"Strange indeed that we should have the same thought." He turned to me, arching one eyebrow quizzically.

"Stranger than you know."

His countenance lost some of its colour as he followed my gaze. "What have you not told me of her?"

Not what, Elrond. How. How could I break your heart again? It was I who had to ride back from Mithlond, the Havens, with you after Celebrian's sailing, and I swallowed the wrenching of my own spirit then to support yours, for the sake of you and for the children, though they were grown, not little ones to be coddled and kept from the truth. It was I who bore witness to Arwen's joy before she dared speak of it to you, and my heart ached for both of you then.

As it does now.

She is my grand-daughter.

And yet. . .it might have been my Celebrian.

Think you not that the thought has never crossed my mind. The tale of Beren and Luthien is, among our people, every girl's dream and every mother's nightmare.

"Daernaneth. . .have you been to Frodo?"

"Of course, Undomiel." Looking up, I found Arwen looking less like a bride and more like the young runabout in the woods of Lothlorien, as she had been when Estel first saw her. "Why do you ask?"

"Estel and Ada still fear for his life." Compassion and fear lit her clear grey eyes as she came to me, reaching for my hands as she did when a small child. "Even if he is spared, he cannot be restored to wholeness. Mithrandir says that is certain, and I - daernaneth, I feel it."

"He is mortal, Arwen. That is the sorrow of mortality." Yet my words tasted as hollow as they sounded in my ears. Evidently Arwen agreed, for she frowned, shaking her head.

"No. For others, it may be. But none have taken such a burden upon themselves."

"No."

Silence. At last she spoke again, her voice soft and plaintive.

"Daernaneth, do you think Ami is better now?"

"We cannot know for certain. . .but I do believe that she is. There is every reason to think so. She hoped that it would be thus."

Her dark hair shifted as she gave a pensive nod. "She went so she could be whole again."

My breath caught. "Yes."

Our eyes met, and I gathered her hands more tightly in mine.

"Do you know what we would ask, Arwen? You can only imagine. . . ."

"But I can."

Her voice was quiet, but bore a resolution I had seldom heard.

She knew.

As did I.

"She spoke to me of him." I allowed this a moment before continuing. "It seems that we were of one mind in the matter."

A long silence.

"And?"

"I do not know that any prayers to the Valar will be heeded from my lips. . .considering. We have asked Mithrandir to do what he can; there must surely be means by which he, too, can plead Frodo's behalf."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Elrond's lips, deep sorrow touching the corners. "I think that they would not listen to me at all, but I have asked nonetheless."

"Arwen's fate is what it is, and she has chosen it as freely as any of choose our love." I laid my hand over his; he did not pull away. Rather, his smile softened, broadening a little, though tears sparkled in his eyes.

"By the time I first turned away from seeing Celebrian, I could not have borne life without her. I would question Arwen more closely in her decision. . .save that I see in her eyes, and in Estel's, what I felt then."

We stood watching in silence as Arwen continued to cradle and feed her beloved charge. It was I who spoke first.

"The bearers of the Three and the One should go together. There is only the matter of when, and the answer to that lies, I think, with you more than Mithrandir or myself."

He nodded. "Not long. Less than a handful of years. I would not tarry so long as that were it not that Frodo wishes to see the Shire again, and I suspect he will need time before he is ready. . .provided our hopes are fulfilled."

A hesitation.

"We must ask whether his kinsman may join him. Bilbo, too, carried the One for a time, and though he does not suffer as Frodo does, I am loath to separate them thus. . .especially now. And if Frodo insists upon waiting. . . ."

We allowed the thought to fall, unspoken, between us like like the leaves which I had already seen fading and falling from the trees in Lorien.

-to be continued-