It was only a short ride from the hills surrounding the Grey Havens to a well-defined path leading into hard granite hills. Sam and Frodo dismounted upon reaching an ancient broad causeway leading down into a secluded harbor bustling with activity. Many ships lay anchored in the harbor. Elves were in the final stages of loading a large pearl-grey swan ship; its mast at the ready with a luminous sail bundled tight to the crossbars. To one side sat a small group. Frodo could see Gandalf’s distinctive white robe glowing in the afternoon light. Bilbo sat beside him, swinging his legs to and fro in time with the waves lapping the quay.

They led their ponies down to the docks where they were met by a strikingly tall Elf-Lord clad in shimmery grey-green robes and wearing a thin sinuous silver crown upon his clear, high brow and intertwined into his long white hair. He bowed deeply. “Welcome to the Havens, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee. You honor us with your presence.” All work stopped at hearing the words spoken by Lord Cirdan. Every Elf turned towards the two hobbits and also bowed.

“Frodo! You did make it for my birthday after all!” Bilbo beckoned his heir over. “Come on. Come on!”

Frodo bowed to the Elf-Lord. “Thank you for your welcome, my Lord. But a higher power than even yours calls me.” Cirdan chuckled and stepped out of the way. Frodo ran over and kissed Bilbo, hugged Gandalf and bowed low to Elrond and Galadriel.

Sam was left standing alone before the majestic Elf-Lord. Cirdan smiled at him. “Would you like a tour of the Havens, Master Gamgee?”

“You mean you’re all not leaving now?” Sam stuttered.

“Not all leave on the evening tide,” Cirdan said. “There is need for a great number of ships in the coming years. I leave with Mithrandir and the other Ringbearers, but others stay to continue the work. The Havens will be occupied for another hundred years or so.” The two conversed as they slowly walked down to join Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel and Bilbo sitting on some sacks of grain at the wharf.

“I brought you a birthday present, Bilbo.” Frodo jogged back to the ponies and retrieved the worn brown satchel. He carefully handed it over to the ancient hobbit. “A little something for the journey, and something for later.”

Bilbo smiled. “Longbottom Leaf, if my nose does not deceive me.” He opened the flap and peered inside. “Indeed! Enough to last for quite some time, if I am careful to ration it and not let Gandalf know about it.”

“I would think you could spare a leaf or two for an old friend every once in awhile,” the wizard chuckled.

“Ah well,” Bilbo sighed, “this will only last a week now that he knows.” Gandalf and Elrond both laughed. “But what’s this?” Bilbo brought out two small leather pouches which had been tucked away inside the satchel.

“Open one, but don’t let any of the contents spill,” Frodo said. Bilbo carefully untied the string knot, reached inside and brought out a handful of seeds. “Those are Longbottom Leaf seeds,” Frodo said. “The other sack is Old Toby. I do not know if Tol Eressea soil will support pipeweed, but I thought you might want to try growing your own supply over there.”

“Impressive,” Elrond said. “I am sure the gardeners there will find a way.”

“Ah, you always were a bright boy,” Bilbo said as he replaced the seeds into their pouch and put away the satchel. “Gandalf, did I mention Frodo always gave the best birthday gifts of anyone I know?”

“I remember hearing you say that, my friend,” the wizard replied. “Aren’t you forgetting your own birthday gift though?”

“Oh yes! Quite right you are.” Bilbo slid off the sack of wheat and pulled a small book from the inside pocket of his coat. “I thought you and Iris would appreciate it more than anyone over the Sea, so I’m giving you the poems.”

Frodo opened the slim volume and started laughing. “Your limericks!”

“Not just mine,” Bilbo said. “I also wrote down the poor attempts by Lord Glorfindel, one by Lord Elrond, and a couple contributed by Gandalf. They are not up to hobbit standards, but I thought I would set them to paper anyway if for nothing else than their historical significance.” Bilbo winked as Sam and Cirdan joined the group.

Gandalf laughed. “Now I will be remembered in the Shire for not only my fireworks, but also my poor poetry. Ah, Bilbo. You hobbits do have a way of putting a person in their proper place.”

A slender elf-maid dressed in functional work pants and a silky blouse approached the party. “Pardon the interruption, my Lords, but the shipmaster requests all board who are leaving on the swan ship.” She bowed to the group. “We sail within the hour.”

“Goodbye Mister Bilbo, sir,” Sam said through the tears which suddenly started to his eyes. “And thank you for everything you done for me and me family. Me Gaffer told me to tell you to send fer him if the gardener in your new place ain’t up to snuff, sos to speak.”

Bilbo smiled and hugged Sam. “Of all my pupils, Samwise Gamgee, you are the one who probably most appreciated his education. You’ve made an old teacher very, very proud.” Sam stepped back, wiping a tear from his eyes.

Frodo took his place inside his uncle’s open arms. “Goodbye my sweet boy,” Bilbo said. “Look after that lass of yours and finish the book.”

“I will, Bilbo,” Frodo choked, “I promise.”

Elrond and Cirdan had already boarded the graceful ship. “Bilbo, it is time.” Gandalf stood at the foot of the gangplank. The hobbit smiled one more time, then went with the wizard across the wooden planks and headed towards the port side. The only people remaining at the quay were Galadriel, Sam and Frodo.

Frodo was surprised that he didn’t feel the desire to board the ship with Bilbo, but was grateful that Sam was with him for the long journey home. The only thing marring the goodbyes had been the tall Elf-Queen. She stood apart from the others, her eyes veiled behind thick golden lashes. As Frodo and Sam turned to walk back to their patiently waiting ponies, she finally spoke.

“A moment with you, Frodo.” She beckoned him to follow her on board the ship.

“No, my Lady,” he said, suddenly afraid to go with her. “I cannot board that vessel. If I set foot upon the ship, I shall not be able to leave.”

She smiled sadly and nodded understanding. “There is a quiet place back this way then. Quickly now.” She floated back into a secluded gazebo behind the stacked goods on the wharf, not turning to see if he would follow or not.

Frodo turned to Sam and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “Please come with me, Sam. To be quite honest, I am afraid to be left alone with her.”

“Sure, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, confused as to why Frodo would be afraid of the Lady of the Golden Wood. She awaited them under a canopy of ivy and late-blooming honeysuckle.

“What is it that you desire from me, my Lady?” Frodo asked.

Galadriel sat upon a wooden bench and held his gaze. “I no longer have time for subtlety, so I will state my desires directly. You are the last person in Middle Earth to see directly into the mind of Sauron. He was once a blessed Maiar of Aule, before he followed the Great Deceiver, Morgoth. Sauron was not always dark. I once learned craft at his feet when we were in the Blessed Realm, before the darkening of the Two Trees. I also knew him even after his master’s fall, when Sauron was still able to take a pleasant form on Middle Earth during the First Age. I must admit that I have always had an attraction to his lore and knowledge. It was this temptation to follow his deceptions which led me to being banished from the Blessed Realm in the first place, Frodo Baggins. I would learn from you his last thoughts upon Middle Earth, if you will allow it.”

“I don’t think so!” The outrage was clear in Sam’s voice. “Hasn’t he suffered enough, your ladyship?” The blood rushed to his cheeks as he realized he had rebuked an Elf-Queen, but he held his ground.

“I did not ask this of you, Samwise Gamgee,” she quietly said. “This decision is for Frodo.”

Frodo shook his head. “I will not. It is not something I wish to re-live.”

“There is no need to be afraid, Ringbearer,” she smiled faintly. “Sauron is no more. He cannot reach you now. All I ask is to see into your mind, but I cannot do so without your cooperation. With some beings I can read their innermost thoughts without them even being aware. But you have grown much, mortal. You are more alike to the Eldar than mortal-kind, and I keen you would block my questions quite easily should I attempt it without your permission.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself again. “Pardon me for buttin’ in again, but he said he don’t want no part of it, your Ladyship. Now, it ain’t my place to be telling you what you can and can’t do, but if Mister Frodo says he don’t want to do it, then I expect you to honor his wishes and leave ‘im be.”

Galadriel let her gaze drift to capture Sam’s eyes. “Trueheart and fellow Ringbearer yourself. I would not ask for anything which is not within his power to give. And I shall honor his wishes, good Samwise Gamgee of the Shire.” She turned to Frodo again. “But this is between Frodo and myself. Naught other.

“This is my final chance before we leave Middle Earth forever. I am the last of the original Noldorian Elves who knew Sauron and Morgoth before their fall. And it would help me close that section of my life, if I were to know his thoughts at the last moment. For at that one moment in time, all darkness filled the skies and my powers failed.” She bowed her head and sighed. “And if the Ringbearer does not consent to this, I shall never know. And I will be unable to tell the Valar of the final song of one of their Maiar. His song shall be lost forever. And it is a powerful song, for Sauron learned it from the first of the Ainur. Yet Iluvatar teaches that even those who seem to thwart the will of the One are but his instruments in the devising of things yet more wonderful. And I would learn from you of that wonder, err it vanishes utterly.”

Frodo looked at the tall golden Elf-Queen. “I have tried to close off that memory, my Lady. What would become of me, should I be forced to re-live that ordeal? Will I go mad? I carry his scars which fester still, and I am perilously close to madness already, saved only by the love of my friends. With the tide goes whatever chance I have of recovery, should the memories overpower me. For there would be no Lord Elrond, no Gandalf, no Galadriel to assuage my distress.”

Galadriel shook her golden tresses. “I cannot say, Ringbearer. But know this. The power of the Three wanes but is not totally dimmed. I can protect you from the daemon memories if you cooperate with me fully. If you trust me, Frodo. But you must open to me fully and not flinch at whatever we find locked within your mind.”

“Now wait a minute,” Sam interrupted. “Won’t bringing these memories to the surface only hurt him more?”

“It might actually help in his healing, Trueheart,” she said. “I believe your own hobbit physician advocates these same types of treatments. Talking about and sharing the hurts and pain releases some of the power of these daemons so that the body, mind and spirit are freed to heal.”

She turned again to Frodo. “The reason Lord Elrond is unable to completely heal you is that he is not of the same age and power as the maker of your wounds. I am closer in power to them since I am child to one of the First-Awakened, but even I am not fully able to heal you. Only one of the blessed Valar themselves could truly cure you, Frodo Baggins. Yet I am closer to the understanding and power of Sauron than any other here, save Olorin himself. And he was not given powers to heal.”

“Olorin?” Sam queried.

“Gandalf,” Frodo answered. “That’s one of his names.”

The Elf-Queen stood. “I believe by sharing these memories, I will be helping you, Ringbearer; not harming you. But I cannot be certain until we attempt it. Will you trust me? Will you consent?” She held out her hands to him.

Sam watched Frodo’s face as he debated within himself. He sighed heavily as Frodo nodded his reluctant consent. “Well, if you’re set on doing this, then I’m going to help too. Here, Mr. Frodo. I’ll sit behind you to hold you in case something unexpected happens.” Sam plopped himself atop the bench and held open his own arms.

Frodo smiled. “Of course, Sam.” He also climbed on top the bench and leaned comfortably back into his best friend’s embrace. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath as the Lady Galadriel knelt before him, then opened his eyes. “I am ready.”

She placed her hands upon Frodo’s head. Sam thought he could feel her presence as well as Frodo’s, but was not sure of anything. He could not tell if they were locked into the strange mystical embrace for one minute or one lifetime. But suddenly there were tears. His tears. Frodo’s tears. Galadriel’s tears.

Frodo whimpered and grabbed hold of Sam’s arms as the tears coursed down his flushed cheeks through tightly closed lashes. He and Galadriel began to moan in synchronous time with each other’s breaths. Sam could see a pale blue light shining from the ring on her finger. Its radiance widened to surround both their heads and hands as they cry into the light.

As Sam was about to speak, Frodo thrashed in his arms and growled. “No!”

Galadriel broke her hold immediately, stunned at the viciousness and desperation in his voice. Frodo placed his head in his hands, weeping softly. She did not wipe the tears from her eyes, but looked on in pity at both Frodo and Sam.

Sam gently held Frodo in his distress, rocking back and forth as he would to comfort his infant daughter. Frodo shook his head as if to clear the undesired memories from his brain, his weeping subsiding as he regained his composure. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, then untangled himself from Sam’s arms. Frodo took a deep, cleansing breath.

“I am sorry.” Galadriel’s melodious voice washed over his raw emotions like silken water over a parched throat. “I wish I could do more. But know that another shares your memories and is not repulsed. The darkness was defeated through your own love, mercy and compassion. Now you must forgive yourself. Love yourself again, Frodo Baggins. For this world very much needs you and all your kind. I shall take Sauron’s song to the Valar and release it there so that it cannot hurt anyone anymore. Be at peace, Ringbearer. Your task is complete.”

Frodo nodded grimly and stood, but his face was dark and troubled. “I am afraid the daemons have been released again, Lady. The doors are open and they may come flying out unexpectedly.”

“You said he would be better!” Sam scooted off the bench and placed his hands on Frodo’s shoulders.

Galadriel smiled at the enraged hobbit. “He will be, eventually. But the memories are potent and the shadows still seek to surround and capture his soul.” She knelt again to address Sam eye to eye. “You, my most trustworthy hobbit – keeper of hope in hopelessness - must help him through the coming darkness before it finally dissipates and he comes into his own light. But know this, Samwise, Frodo has the strength to come through this on his own now. For his own faithfulness and compassion will defeat the evil lingering within his heart. He has willingly shared its source with me,” she turned to gaze at Frodo, “and I will bless his name forever in the halls of Valinor.”

She stood and without a word left the gazebo; walking up the gangplank onto the grey ship; disappearing into its interior. Sam and Frodo stood on the shore as the swan ship’s moorings were loost and the boat departed on the receding tide. They stayed until it was eventually lost to view in the setting sun.