Hey guys! This is my first story. It's in progress at the moment I think, I'm planning on having all the characters in the Fellowship talk about their regrets, and about Frodo. Really hope you guys like it, and will hopefully get some more of it written as soon as I can.
Really want to thank krystal lazuli and Catmint for being my beta's. You've really helped me out a lot. Amazing people.
So here it is. Chapter One. Enjoy
Looking at the fragile figure in front of me, I realize that this is my fault.
It was I that asked Frodo to take the Ring back in the Shire, who told him it was the only way. Because of me, he chose to embark on this quest that has near killed him. For all we know, he may well die. Even if he does not die physically, it is almost certain that a part of his soul shall die.
Frodo Baggins will never be the same again. No longer will he be able to enjoy the simple life to which Hobbits are accustomed. No longer will his mind be filled with the pleasures of gardening and food. He is tainted. His nights will be haunted by the terrors he has faced. The terrors that I was not there to prevent. And because of this, I am staring at the shell of the young Hobbit that I used to know. And I know that this is all my fault.
If only I could have been stronger. If I had had the power to stifle the urges the Ring could have produced. Then maybe he would never have become involved in this. He, and the rest of the Hobbits, could have lived on, blissfully unaware of all this. It could have been left to those that are made for this, made for war.
Regardless, Frodo has done well. He exceeded all expectations. He destroyed the Ring, a task that no one, not even I, could have deemed possible. He entered Mordor, and came out alive. He thwarted Sauron. Frodo Baggins, a little Hobbit, destroyed the Dark Lord. Who would have thought it?
I know I should feel proud for the young boy. Yet I cannot feel it. Not yet. Not while I am staring at his tiny body, scarred and bruised by a journey that nearly cost him his life. Until I see his eyes open, until I know that he is truly alive, only then will I begin to ease. And even then, it will not be enough. I will never feel truly happy.
This I will never show him though. He has been through enough. He does not need the burden of my guilt on his shoulders, when he is already burdened with far too much. All that he need know is that I, Gandalf the White, have been sat here since the moment he arrived, waiting for him to awaken. All he need see is that I am alive. I am changed, as is he, but nonetheless, I am alive. That is all that he need know. And it is all that I need to know. I need to know that he is alive.
As soon as the words enter my mind, I see his eyes flicker. I watch as Frodo Baggins opens his eyes. I watch as he sits up, and focuses his gaze on me. I watch as the pain and horror leave his face, replaced with happiness and disbelief.
"Gandalf?"
I break into a smile and begin to laugh. He follows my lead. He is alive. I am alive. That is all we need to know.