Mechtild (mechtild) wrote,

The Houses of Healing Pt. 2: Frodo sees Sam ~ plus a pair of poems by jan-u-wine.


These caps are very dear to me, so beautiful, so speaking, and so tenderly humorous are they—the humour that only those who have suffered the worst together can share. Jan-u-wine’s poems, Harthad Uluithiad and Bronwe Athan Harthad, make them even dearer.

Below the caps, preceding the pair of poems, is the center section of the book scene. I include it not only because I love it, but because of how it depicts the level of gratitude and esteem felt towards Frodo and Sam, the two Ring-bearers who bore the Ring all the way to the Crack of Doom. I do love the film's “You bow to no one” moment in the coronation scene. It never fails to bring me to tears. But the book scene of the honouring of Frodo and Sam has a grandeur and richness that the film scene does not. It also has the minstrel singing the story of 'Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom', Sam's dying wish come true. How could I not have wanted to hear that? Even imagining hearing it sung brings me to a state like that of the book-hearers:

...their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.


This sequence has no actual dialogue. For those who wish to see the lines for the larger scene, I am repeating the script posted in the previous entry:

Film scene:

The image of his sleeping face emerging out of the last frames of him being carried by the eagle, Frodo is shown waking up in an unfamiliar place, bathed in soft white light. It is not a tent (as if on the Field of Cormallen), but apparently a room in the Houses of Healing. His gown, the bandage on his wounded hand, the linens on the bed—all pristine—glow with the same light.

Frodo: Gandalf…?

Gandalf laughs, as does Frodo. The cousins enter and leap upon the bed, embracing Frodo. Although Frodo and the cousins are speaking, the sound of their talk is almost inaudible, the music taking the lead in setting the scene’s emotional tone.

Merry: Frodo!

Frodo: Gimli! Aragorn!

The rest make their entrances in turn, coming to stand by the bed, smiling as they watch the hobbits cavort. Last comes Sam, wearing the same sort of gown as Frodo. He does not enter, but smiles from the doorway. Frodo sees him and they exchange smiles that seem to speak over what must be the noise in the room, as the visitors speak and the cousins bounce and chatter.



Book scene, from The Field of Cormallen:

When they were washed and clad, and had eaten a light meal, the Hobbits followed Gandalf. They stepped out of the beech-grove in which they had lain, and passed on to a long green lawn, glowing in sunshine, bordered by stately dark-leaved trees laden with scarlet blossom. Behind them they could hear the sound of falling water, and a stream ran down before them between flowering banks, until it came to a greenwood at the lawn’s foot and passed then on under the archway of trees, though which they saw the shimmer of water far away.

As they came to the opening in the wood, they were surprised to see knights in bright mail and tall guards in silver and black standing there, who greeted them with honour and bowed before them. And then one blew a long trumpet, and they went on through the aisle of trees beside the singing stream. So they came to wide green land, and beyond was a broad river in a silver haze, out of which rose a long wooded isle, and many ships lay by its shores. But on the field where they now stood a great host was drawn up, in ranks and companies glittering in the sun. And as the Hobbits approached swords were unsheathed, and spears were shaken, and horns and trumpets sang, and men cried with many voices and in many tongues:

‘Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise!
Cuio i Pheriain anann! Aglar’ni Pheriannath!
Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!
Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annûn! Eglerio!
Praise them!
A laita te, laita te! Andave laituvalmet!
Preaise them!
Cormacolindor, a laita tárienna!
Praise them! The Ring-bearers, praise them with great praise!

And so the red blood blushing in their faces and their eyes shining with wonder, Frodo and Sam went forward and saw that amidst the clamorous host were set three high-seats built of green turves. Behind the seat upon the right floated, white on green, a great horse running free; upon the left was a banner, silver upon blue, a ship swan-prowed faring on the sea; but behind the highest throne in the midst of all a great standard was spread on the breeze, and there a white tree flowered upon a sable field beneath a shining crown and seven glittering stars. On the throne sat a mail-clad man, a great sword was laid across his knees, but he wore no helm. As they drew near he rose. And then they knew him, changed as he was, so high and glad of face, kingly, lord of Men, dark-haired with eyes of grey.

Frodo ran to meet him, and Sam followed close behind. ‘Well, if this isn’t the crown of all!’ he said. ‘Strider, or I’m still asleep!’

‘Yes, Sam, Strider,’ said Aragorn. ‘It is a long way, is it not, from Bree, where you did not like the look of me? A long way for us all, but yours has been the darkest road.’

And then to Sam’s surprise and utter confusion he bowed his knee before them; and taking them by the hand, Frodo upon his right and Sam upon his left, he led them to the throne, and setting them upon it, he turned to the men and captains who stood by and spoke, so that his voice rang over all the host, crying:

‘Praise them with great praise!’

And when the glad shout had swelled up and died away again, to Sam’s final and complete satisfaction and pure joy, a minstrel of Gondor stood forth, and knelt, and begged leave to sing. And behold! he said:

‘Lo! Lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and greathearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom.’

And when Sam heard that he laughed aloud for sheer delight, and he stood up and cried: ‘O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!’ And then he wept.

And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all men were hushed. And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.


Below are two poems by jan-u-wine written for "The Field of Cormallen". The first is from Frodo's point of view, the second is from Sam's.

Harthad Uluithiad: Hope Unquenchable

I've been dreaming,
haven't I ?

Sweet-scented air
about me,
caught warm
by the vault of
golden-limbed trees.

I feel…….

at peace.

How long have I slept?






is Sam?

A long un-heard
speaks my name,
a hand,
too large for hobbit-kind,
falls upon my shoulder.


Not for the first time
in our acquaintance,
he helps me rise.

Beyond him,

a cot embraces
a still'd form.


How very small
he looks
against the down
of the pillow.

I never thought
I should call
him fragile,
but that is how
he seem to me, now:

weary lines of worry
by his eyes,

open upon
his brow.

His feet.

Red-blotched linen
binds them.


I kneel beside him.

I remember.

He said
he would carry me,

a child's game…..

he said….

he did …….

he did.

In shame and sorrow,
I take his hand.

He will never
let me tell the balance,
the fullness of this tale:

how ever
he was there…

how ever
he cared
(and carried),


And when,
at the last,
my own hope
left me,
he became

and with his simple
held us both
to life.

Hope unending,
hope unrelenting,
hope undying….

My hope…

Our hope….


Bronwe Athan Harthad: Endurance Beyond Hope

He thinks he failed,
you know…..

and that which will ever
remind him

is ever there,


at his finger-tips….


the pained lack thereof.

I cannot,

I must,

meet his eyes.

I must,
lest he think
that I believe
(as he does)
that he is nothing.

So much sorrow,
so much regret,
so much
live there.

So that I may not see
(and that he
may not see
not seeing),

I brace him
against my shoulder.

He does not move,
does not speak
as my hands,


unbroken hands,

wind the spoilt whiteness
from his.

A basin of gem-embraced mithril
would not be good enough
for him.

I did not ask for one.

As if he were a child,
small beyond all
I take his whole hand in mine,
and place the other
within the homely
plainness of
blue-veined stoneware.

His head grows heavy upon my shoulder.

I cannot see to tell if he sleeps.

No matter.

The restful warmth of kings-foil
within the water,
scents the air with peace.

My own eyes grow heavy,
falling to quiet,


there is one thing
you should know…..

one thing you must believe.


I was there


(none better)….

you did not

Dear Master…..



beyond all darkness,
beyond all evil,

beyond all





"I name before you all Frodo of the Shire and Samwise his servant. And the bards and minstrels should give them new names: Bronwe athan Harthad and Harthad Uluithiad, Endurance beyond Hope and Hope Unquenchable." - Gandalf the White.


Recent entries:

~ The Houses of Healing Pt. 1: Frodo wakes, plus jan-u-wine’s “Naught to Be Forgiven”.

~ The Houses of Healing Pt. 2: Frodo sees Sam, plus jan-u-wine’s “Harthad Uluithiad” and “Bronwe Athan Harthad”.

Other Tables of Links:

~ Entries with jan-u-wine's poems.

~ Frodo & Elijah Wood screencap entries

~ Mechtild
Tags: frodo screencaps, jan-u-wine, return of the king

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