Galadriel's keen eyes finally fell on him… They were deep and ageless, like wide-open windows to other time and places where wisdom remained… Those eyes were sweet pressure to behold, and Frodo felt that they were searching inside his soul… Searching for memories, fears and hopes… Everything that he had ever kept for himself was being revealed to her in silence, unfolding softly 'til every dark corner was explored and understood. He was ashamed, for there, in front of her eyes, he felt bare and idle: just a simple hobbit with no deeds or great thoughts to offer, no wisdom nor intelligence… only a hairy fearful hobbit… She smiled in tenderness, all the beauty of sunny days shone in her golden hair, and she seemed to be the Goddess of the skies… She made a question without words, a query with no sound… An offer maybe it was, that took shape, somehow, inside Frodo's brain… or was it in his heart? …

She was giving him the possibility of discarding any thought of dumbness or idleness, of leaving behind the plain hobbit he felt he was… And becoming great and adored, an image to remember in every corner of Arda 'til the end of times, a High Lord to be feared and loved, eternal youth and power. The only thing he had to do was asking of the right way to use the Ring… Frodo understood her purpose and smiled gently with a blurred hope in his eyes. He didn't want that, he rather be plain, bare and idle, or whatever he was. He wasn't made for great deeds, nor had he the spirit to be a sovereign… All that he wanted was a good fire and a bed, and the certainty that he could rest his worries…

His mind was flying back to Rivendell when he felt those keen eyes falling on him again. The fair lady had not finished her questioning and he couldn't run from the spell of her gaze… A homelike chimney took shape in his mind, a melody came to his ears: it was Bilbo's voice singing something about roads going ever and ever on… "You can go… Just look for a new bearer of the Ring" said a voice with no sound, "You needn't ask for agreement… only put the Ring in someone's hand and he will become the bearer against any wish… And you'll be free… free to go home, to go to Bilbo, and rest in peace beside a warm fire"… Frodo felt a slash in his heart; there it was, the possibility he'd been waiting ever for since he left the Shire… The burning wish that gave him peace at Caradhras… He saw Bilbo sitting by the fire, his white hair and shaking tender hands going through the pages of an old book… And, suddenly, a dark shadow overtaking the red glows of the fire, and a tall black shape approaching him from behind; it wore a black cloak and the hands where white and cold. His face was white and dreadful and he wore a crown. The figure hoisted a sword and stroke down… Frodo drowned in a memory and felt a deep pain on his shoulder… He grasp for a breath in dismay, rejecting the deep wish that was pressing in his soul. He shook his head and sighed… He couldn't do that; he had to keep up to his word even if his road was a dead end…

"Then, how about the favor of the black Lord?" - said the silent voice - "You know your quest is hopeless, you know you'll surely fail and then be tortured for ever; you'll see your loved ones die just like you thought with Bilbo… You could go to him, and offer the Ring freely, and ask to be at his service… And you might escape thus of his rage and be safe from torture and pain…You would be able to protect Sam, Bilbo and your friends" …Frodo was besieged… This chance had never gone through his mind, or had it? ... Where was the question coming from? Was it the Lady, or was it just himself moved by her gaze? Where those the secret thoughts he had buried deep inside since he said goodbye to Bag End? Where those the possibilities that had arisen in his head and where rejected by his moral, that were now waking to the world of consciousness? He touched the Ring; it was burning hot… He felt ashamed of that offer, or thought if it was his, he wanted to run away and get lost from any fair eyes. The burden was too heavy for his small complexion, his wisdom poor and his behavior foolish sometimes… But he was not evil, he was not a coward, he was not a traitor… What would Strider think if he ever learned of this thought? What was Galadriel thinking of him now? ... He was bewildered… He felt miserable and small, lonely and frightened… "It's just fear"–he said deep inside–"I could never do that fair Lady, never"… "I will carry my burden to destruction, no matter if I'm walking into an abyss, or if I lose everything on the way… Gandalf had faith in something, I'll take his faith now and honor him" …

The pressure and research were over, Galadriel's eyes were tender and soft now. She smiled, and Frodo felt his weight lightened… The meeting was over; they were being led out of the chamber to a pavilion on the floor, to have some rest.

–^Gr|nGa^

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