Waves
LotR/Sandman (various), G


At long last, the boat reached the shore, coming to a gentle stop as it drifted up onto the beach. Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel carefully stepped out and pulled the boat completely onto the shore. "We are here, Frodo," Bilbo whispered, clasping Frodo's shoulder for a moment, then lifting himself out of the boat and onto the sand.

Frodo breathed in deeply, then closed his eyes. "Go on - I need to catch my breath for a moment. I will find you." The other ringbearers nodded, then began to walk inland, away from the boat.

For several minutes, Frodo merely sat, listening to the waves lap at the shore. He had grown accustomed to their steady rhythm, and was reluctant to leave them behind. His heart matched the beat of the sea, and faint colors pulsed warmly against the backs of his eyelids.

He was pulled back by the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up.

Standing before Frodo was someone the likes of whom he had never seen before. He was tall, and pale as daybreak - even paler than Frodo had grown on his darkest days. His hair was a wildly unkempt black mess, framing an angular face and dark eyes that shone with an oddly intense brightness. The man - or perhaps elf, or some other noble species - wore simple but rich black clothing, covered almost completely by a voluminous cloak.

Frodo opened his mouth to speak, but he was stopped by a shake of the stranger's head. "Welcome, Frodo Baggins of the Shire. I have been awaiting your arrival." The stranger extended his hand. "Let us depart."

Frodo took his hand and stood carefully, deliberately. "Who are you?" he asked slowly.

The stranger took a few steps down the beach, then turned around, a hint of a smile on his face. "I am Morpheus. And you are in my lands now."

Frodo watched him walk for a moment, then suddenly felt his wearying, bone-deep pain begin to melt away. For the first time in years, Frodo laughed, creasing his face with fine wrinkles. And with his head held high, he followed.

And if he didn't realize that he was being followed as well, that was okay. A young woman, similar in build to Morpheus but with a slightly fuller, more pleasant face, walked several paces behind Frodo, far enough away that he could not sense her but always close enough to keep him in the corner of her vision. And she was content to keep this distance, occasionally skipping stones in the water, until it was time to gently lift Frodo's worn body and bear it away.

After all, she had all the time in the world to wait.




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