Author Notes:Teeny tiny little ficlet here ^_^ This is both Frodo and Sam's viewpoint, simultaneously, though it's not set at any particular time. Pre-Quest, post-Quest, whatever suits you best. ^_^ For those of you reading One of These Days, I'm officially offline tomorrow. I'll update when I'm not remembering a national tragedy. -_- So, anyway, read on!
Who are you, alone, yourself and nameless?~ Tom Bombadil, in The Fellowship of the Ring.
Who am I?
I am me, but only when I am with you. You complete me, we are perfect together. Anything less reduces me to nothingness. We are one, you and I; soulmates. We are brothers, we are lovers, we are the truest friends that ever lived, and ours is the purest love that ever existed. Without it, I am not me, and it is pointless to ask who I am when you are not with me. I couldn't explain myself without you anymore than I could explain that water is wet. You are my explanation. You speak for me.
Alone, I am not myself. I am only a half, a part, a fraction of the sum. To ask who I am alone is to ask nothing. I am nothing, alone, apart from you. You fill my emptiness, you light my darkness, you warm my coldness. You bring joy to my sorrow and life to my death, love to my longing and healing to my pain. You are more than my soulmate, you are my soul. Alone, I am nothing, and I never was anything. Not without you.
I, myself. My Self. You are my Self, my reason for being. I am not you, but I exist because of you. You are the Sculptor, and I am your Clay; you are the Weaver, and I am your Cloth; you are the Singer, and I am your Song. You are the Teacher, and I am your Student; you are the Writer, and I am your Word; you are the Thinker, and I am your Thought. You are the Cause, and I, the Effect. Es, ergo sum. You are, therefore I am.
Nameless – the word renders me mute. If I am nameless, then I am – what? Not a hobbit, not a man. Neither young nor old, rich nor poor, fair nor coarse. If I am nameless, I cannot call myself anything. Coward nor hero, weak nor strong, brave nor fearful. Liar nor truthful nor good nor evil nor right nor wrong nor great nor small – nameless. I am nameless, then. Cast off into the darkness of confusion, and I have no name to cling to. No reality to rest upon. Stripped of my name, I am stripped of everything that is me. Everything but the one, true thing. You.
Who am I, alone, myself and nameless?
I am yours.