Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Lord of the Rings, I only borrow them for my own amusement and the amusement (I hope) of others and then return them mostly intact.
For permission for reproduce elsewhere, please email me at meltownley at gmail dot com.
Author's Note: Please note that this story is AU since I have increased the distances between places in Middle Earth and in the future chapters, this story will include original characters.Please read and review: questions, comments, corrections, and flames are all welcome!
After their fear and grief driven flight from the Mines of Moria, the safe havens of Lorien were a welcome sight to everyone in the Fellowship. Something was different about these richly-forested, Elven-protected borders. Time seemed to run sluggishly; even the air seemed somehow less oppressive. And it was these subtle differences which allowed each member of the Fellowship to rest and find some sort of solace. Their time in Lorien also provided a chance for everyone to come to terms, each in his own way, with his grief over Gandalf's death.
The Fellowship felt tense once again on their last day in Lorien at the prospect of leaving such a sense of safeness like most of them hadn't felt in years. At the thought of the enormity of his task and what lay ahead of him, the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins, felt like he could scarcely breathe. He reflected upon how he missed the simple familiarity of Bag End or even the welcomed comfort of Rivendell.
Frodo was sitting by himself in a secluded corner of Lorien near a fountain lost in thought. He easily allowed the gentle falling of the water into the fountain's base to lure him into the last semblance of safety and protection that he was sure he would feel until his quest was completed.
Lost in thought with his knees drawn up to his chest protectively, Frodo contemplated one of his last real conversations with the wizard. As the Fellowship had been sitting, waiting for Gandalf to remember which of the two doors led the way out of Moria; Frodo had asked him about what Lorien was like.
Gandalf had been more than willing to answer Frodo's barrage of questions as he knew how apprehensive his good friend was about what was to come. "Lorien is indeed a welcome refuge Frodo," Gandalf had said kindly, placing his large hand reassuringly on Frodo's small shoulder. Though Frodo didn't know it, for a moment, Gandalf has reflected upon how small and childish Frodo must appear to the enemy, since the hobbit was but a little taller than a nine year old child of men.
That however, Gandalf had thought as a small smile played across his lips, would be a fatal mistake on the part of the enemy. There was a hidden strength in Frodo, of this he was sure. Frodo had proved this beyond a shadow of a doubt after his survival from his Morgul blade wounding on Weathertop.
Caught so long in thought about the one upon whom all their hopes laid, Gandalf had been startled out of his reverie by a small questioning voice. "Gandalf?" Frodo had asked, morning glory eyes upturned to Gandalf's wizened face.
"Gandalf?" he had repeated, "Are you alright?"
"Yes, my boy," he had responded warmly, "of course. Now where was I?"
"Lorien," said Frodo still eyeing Gandalf uncertainly.
"Ah yes," murmured Gandalf quietly. "Lorien is a most unusual place, Frodo. Though you spent most of your time in Rivendell in bed under Lord Elrond's careful ministrations, you undoubtedly were able to get a sense of what Elven cities are like."
Gandalf paused for a moment, trying to decide where to go next in his explanation. As he hesitated, Frodo pondered what Rivendell had been like. Things were (or at least they had been before Frodo's cousins Pippin and Merry arrived) quiet. Yet infused with that solitude was a sense of barely concealed feeling of strength.
Gandalf continued, startling Frodo out of his thoughts. "Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are always most welcoming hosts and will welcome us freely," said Gandalf. Then he muttered, "Or at least I hope they will,"
When Frodo looked alarmed at this, Gandalf smiled and said, "Don't worry Frodo. They have never been less than friendly to me, but I have never dropped in on them quite so suddenly or with so many people accompanying me. However, I am sure that they will be as gracious as ever."
The wizard grew quiet for a moment as he struggled to remember which door led the way out of the dank and deadly Mines of Moria. "However," Gandalf muttered, almost to himself, "After a few days stay at Lorien, we still have one more refuge before we must face a long haul to Mordor,"
At that moment, Frodo had felt a small twinge of hope that the thought that there were still two more refuges for the Fellowship.
"Where is the second refuge, Gandalf?" Frodo remembered looking at many of the maps in Rivendell's expansive library and he could not recall seeing any other place of refuge (other than Minas Tirith - that is if the White City could be called a refuge) for a long time after Lorien.
"Well," said Gandalf, leaning closer still as though he did not wish the others to hear what he was about to say, "I have a few friends that live but a few days from Lorien. They have never failed to give me shelter before when I needed it, nor shall they fail to help now. She has always been most gracious…" Gandalf petered off as if lost deeply in thought.
"Who is it Gandalf? Where is it? When –" Gandalf chuckled quietly.
"Be still my dear boy. All of your questions will be answered in time. I have already spoken with Aragorn on the matter and we will deal with it when the time comes –" Gandalf stopped midsentence. "Ah! It's that one!" he said, pointing at the left doorway.
"He's remembered!" Merry said happily, jumping up.
"No," reflected Gandalf, "but the air smells less foul down here. When in doubt Meriadoc, always follow your nose,"
Frodo was startled from his recollections by a quiet voice.
"Frodo."
He heard the voice, yet he could not tear himself away from this lingering taste of Gandalf.
"Frodo." The voice came again. It was more insistent, its rich baritone slicing through the safe haven of Frodo's memories.
"Frodo!" The voice was more insistent, this time accompanied by a large hand on his shoulder. Frodo jerked in surprise as the hand was laid on his shoulder. He looked up. Aragorn.
Aragorn could see that Frodo was lost in thought and looking rather morose. "Frodo," he said yet again, this time administering a gentle squeeze on the shoulder at the same time.
"Aragorn," Frodo answered quietly. Aragorn gave a reassuring smile to the Ringbearer before speaking. "Frodo, it is time we were moving on from here."
He paused, looking at Frodo expectantly. And when he didn't move from his pensive, crouched position, Aragorn knew something was amiss. He knelt, taking Frodo's impossibly small hands in his. "What is wrong, Frodo?"
The endless blue eyes stared into steely grey. "I was just thinking about Gandalf." Frodo murmured quietly. He looked up at Aragorn, avoiding looking at his piercing eyes by instead staring at his stubble. "He told me that we had one refuge after this."
Aragorn nodded as he sat down next to Frodo. "He spoke of it to me. It is but a few days from here."
"What's it like?" Frodo asked hurriedly. Ah. The Ranger thought to himself. So this is the reason for Frodo's increased solitude – a fear if the future…not that it was at all unusual, considering that which lay ahead of them all, but most of all ahead of the Ringbearer.
He paused only a moment to think this before truthfully answering, "I don't know." When Frodo looked worriedly at him he said, "I have never been there before, nor even, in fact, even knew it existed. Apparently, the friends of Gandalf live but a few days from here. He swore to me that they would give us a place to stay, that we need only say that we are friends of Gandalf."
Piercing blue finally sought grey. "He spoke to this to you ahead of time? Aragorn, do you think –" He paused torn. It was so hard to ask the question he was dying to ask, "Do you think he knew?"
"You mean he knew he was going to die?" asked Aragorn, startled by the hobbit's perceptiveness, though he knew he should not be. Aragorn gave a small sigh before answering. "I do not know. Gandalf always did seem to have some kind of foresight and a knowledge of things he should not have known. However, I do not think he was positive that he would die, rather like he had a strange sense that it was something that would most likely come to pass,"
Frodo nodded silently and stood up. Aragorn did likewise. "Come," he said, putting a warm hand comfortingly on Frodo's back. "It is time we were leaving."