Monstrous
by Leafy
Rating: PG-13 for some violence, attitude, and tense situations.
Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf".
Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.
I hope you all enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.
**********
"It's just a legend," Aragorn growled.
"It's not a legend. It's legendary," replied Gandalf, sitting down next to him and gripping his staff. "There is a difference, a significant one at that."
"Legend or legendary, we ought to keep a sharp lookout," said Boromir, entering the circle of the camp.
"Lookout for what?" Pippin entered, chewing on a bit of bread.
"Haven't you been paying attention--and is that my bread?" Boromir asked sharply.
"No on both counts," said Pippin, shoving the rest of the bread into his mouth. "So, lookout for what?" he continued, thickly through the bread.
Boromir sighed and Aragorn put his head in his hands.
"The monster, Pip," mumbled Merry, from where he sat.
"What monster?" Pippin's eyes widened.
"The monster. The monster that is said to live in this forest."
"A monster lives in this forest?" Pippin exclaimed.
"No, it does not!" Aragorn retorted. "It's just a legend. That's why we're not going around this wood, and wasting at least two more days here."
"Does Frodo know about this?" Pippin demanded.
"Of course, he does. Weren't you listening to anything said just a moment ago?"
"I don't think he was paying attention," said Boromir suspiciously, searching through his much-lighter pack for something to eat.
"Oh yes, I was!" Pippin began. "But, er…in case I wasn't listening--to all of it," he quickly added, seeing the look on Aragorn's face, "what, uhm, what exactly makes this thing--monstrous?"
Again, it was Merry who answered.
"It can change forms," he said. "And it feeds on bad feelings and emotions--like guilt and anger. So, it can change into anything--or anyone--and then it makes you feel something like what it feeds on. It makes you feel just as much of it as you can, then," he paused for dramatic emphasis, "it sucks that emotion clean out of you. You lose it and, unless you kill the monster, you can never get it back."
"Glad to see someone was listening," said Boromir, now searching through Aragorn's pack for some food.
"But it is just a legend. Nothing more," Aragorn said firmly, taking his pack from Boromir, handing him an apple from it, then closing it at his own feet.
Pippin looked around now, a bit on edge.
"Where is Frodo?" he asked.
"Off getting water and some more firewood with Sam and Gimli," said Legolas, from his watchful position at the edge of the clearing. "Or perhaps just Sam. Here comes Gimli."
Sure enough, Gimli appeared then in the firelight, holding an armload of dry branches.
"Are the halflings not back yet?" he asked, looking around.
"You split up?" Aragorn asked.
"Well, yes--they said they were just going to follow the stream a bit farther, then meet me back here."
Just then, Sam came stumbling through the underbrush.
"Is Frodo here?" he asked anxiously.
"No--did you split up?" asked Aragorn, standing.
"Technically--we got separated," Sam choked. "I bent down to the water only for a moment, then, when I stood up, he was gone."
"We need to find him," Aragorn began.
"What about, 'it's just a legend'?" Boromir asked critically.
"Even so, it's not safe for him--or any of us--to be alone," Aragorn replied.
**********
Frodo ran downstream, following the current. The wooden bucket he and Sam had brought for the water had fallen in the water, and was rapidly being swept away.
Just then, Frodo tripped on a precarious root, falling flat on his face. Recovering, he sat up on the bank, trying to locate the bucket in the water, but it was too far gone for him to even see.
Scraping the dirt and moss off of his chin, Frodo turned around, and was delighted to see that the bucket had somehow made its way back onto the bank behind him.
"The current must've changed," he thought to himself, picking it up and filling it with water.
Hanging the bucket in the crook of his arm, Frodo turned around and began making his way back to the camp. Almost immediately, he noticed the handle of the bucket growing increasingly snug around his arm. Alarmed, Frodo tried to remove it, but found that it had already grown too tight, and was growing tighter. No matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't get it of his arm.
Spilling out the water in the bucket, Frodo took off running back upstream, toward where he'd last seen Sam.
Mercifully, he was almost immediately intercepted by Aragorn, Sam, and Gandalf.
"Frodo--" Aragorn began, but stopped short, narrowly dodging a punch in the stomach as Frodo thrust his bucket-clad arm at him.
"Help me!" Frodo cried. "I can't get it off!"
Sam lunged and grabbed the bucket, and began pulling at it with all his strength. Aragorn quickly followed suit.
"That won't help!" Gandalf cried. "Aragorn, you must stab it!"
"Stab it?" Aragorn repeated incredulously. "The bucket?"
"It is the only way! Quickly!"
Pushing Sam out of the way and lifting up Frodo's arm, Aragorn complied, running his sword through the lower middle half of the bucket.
Instantly, it vanished, leaving nothing but Aragorn's now blood-stained sword just under Frodo's outstretched arm. They lowered them both.
Aragorn took the blade into his hands, looking at the redness on it.
"Is that blood?" asked Sam, then turned, trying to get a look at Frodo's arm.
Aragorn nodded. He looked up at Gandalf, who was still standing.
"What does this mean? What was that?" he asked.
"The monster," said Gandalf meaningfully.
Frodo and Sam looked up in concerned unison.
"Come," said Aragorn, standing and resheathing his sword. "Back to the camp. We have to leave, right now. We'll have to go around this wood."
"That's fine," said Frodo, holding his still-sore arm gingerly, as he walked.
"I don't understand. If the bucket was the monster--the shape it took--then, didn't you kill it just now?" Sam asked, following Aragorn.
"It still had the energy to flee; I believe Aragorn has just wounded the monster," said Gandalf evenly. "Aragorn is right--we must leave as quickly as possible."
"So, where is the monster now?" Sam asked.
As if this was its cue, a giant, hideous monster with long, sharp teeth and claws, bulging, pale, pupil-less eyes, and scaly, slimy black skin leaped down from a branch overhead, raised a formidable limb, and punted a terrified Frodo back down the slope, toward the river. Instantly, the monster took off in alarming pursuit. Sam, Gandalf and Aragorn rushed after it.
At the water's edge, Frodo scrambled to his feet, looking frantically about for the beast, or his friends, whichever showed up first. Naturally, it ended up being the former.
Before Frodo could move, the monster sprang forward, pinning him against a tree. Speechless with fright, Frodo looked into the monster's sallow eyes as it blinked and snarled at him. The monster opened it mouth, wide, wide enough to swallow Frodo's entire head. But instead of leaning forward, as the hobbit expected, it began making a loud sucking noise.
Suddenly, Frodo no longer felt afraid. He no longer felt anything. His eyelids fluttered, he slumped forward, and passed out. The monster disappeared again, leaving Frodo in a heap on the ground.
**********
"Frodo!" Sam cried, skidding down the wooded slope toward his friend's unconscious body. Landing at Frodo's side, he shook his shoulder, as if to wake him.
Miraculously, he did wake up, sitting up numbly.
"Are you alright?" Sam asked anxiously, leaning forward slightly and looking into his eyes.
"Of course, I am!" Frodo said, leaning back, a look of vague repulsion on his face.
Sam furrowed his brow.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"The monster got to him," said Gandalf, coming down the slope.
"What do you mean?" Sam exclaimed in horror. "What's happened?"
"It's taken away his fear," Gandalf replied. "Frodo, don't do that."
He leaned down and took the ring, which Frodo had taken out and was playing with absently, twirling it on the tips of his fingers. Frodo made a grab for it as Gandalf hid it away inside his own robes.
"What d'you do that for?" Frodo hissed angrily leaping to his feet. He reached for his sword, and Aragorn lunged forward, grabbing his arm to stop him. Frodo tried to swat Aragorn's hand away, but with no success, as it was so much bigger than his own.
"Calm down," said Aragorn, taking Frodo's sword out of his reach. He looked at Gandalf.
"What does this mean?" he asked.
"It means that, as of right now, Frodo is incapable of feeling fear," replied Gandalf gravely.
Sam's mouth dropped open.
"Ever?" he gasped.
"Unless we slay the monster."
"Yes!" Frodo threw in enthusiastically, attempting to sock Aragorn in the kneecap for his sword.
"Then that's what we must do," said Aragorn, sidestepping Frodo's punch. "We can't leave him like this forever, he can't live this way. And how can he be expected to destroy the ring, reduced to a brash fool?"
"Who are you calling a fool?" Frodo demanded, his face reddening. "And, give me back my sword, you coward! And you," he faced Gandalf, "return my ring at once, if you wish to live to see another day! You're just a bunch of craven thieves, the trio of you!"
"What did I do?" asked Sam, mildly offended.
"Silence!" Frodo snapped.
"He's not himself, Samwise," Gandalf reminded him, seeing the hurt look Sam wore. "He is without fear and will therefore be inclined to be a bit nasty."
"I'm nasty now, am I?" said Frodo bemusedly. "You're really looking for a fight, aren't you, old man?"
"Let us go back to the camp," said Gandalf, turning away.
"Camp? We can't go back to the camp yet! We have to destroy the monster!" Frodo exclaimed.
"All in good time, Frodo," said Aragorn, seizing a handful of the hobbit's dirt-ridden cloak and dragging him back up the slope.
"But we have to do it now, right now!" Frodo insisted, his heels scraping against the ground. "Before that monster takes in one more self-assured breath!"
~ End of Part 1 ~
