Disclaimers: All canon material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers and Turbine. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.

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Welcome to October! Okay, so this work was inspired by Danny Farrant and Paul Rawson's song "Cruel Cruel World". And yes, I'm diving back into Dark Lord Frodo again. So, let's see where this story takes us. Shall we? :)

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Frodo sat on a wooden chair, staring aimlessly at the arched walls and looming balcony. He wanted to sleep. He needed sleep so badly. But the Ring still wound its dark recesses into his heart. Hadn't that passed? Shouldn't he be free?

Frodo… Frodo, come here…

What was that? That voice. It sounded very much like himself. But who? How? No… not the mirror…

Frodo stood upright. His legs shook beneath him. In his haste, he collapsed on the floor. He managed clambering to his feet, only to smack his hand against the mirror in front of him, to be greeted by a paler version of himself, with his mirror reflection revealing his hair oily and sleeked back. His darker self also wore a trench coat with a high, curved collar.

This darker version truly was menacing to behold.

"Oh Frodo, it is you," his reflection spoke back, overjoyed to see him.

Frodo jerked back, nearly collapsing on the stone-cold floor again. "No. You're…"

"You?" his darker reflection laughed. "Oh, you may not see it, but one day, the Ring will be too much. Yes, you destroyed the Ring. Or rather helped to destroy it. But I am here to make you an offer. Join me, let me be free of this mirror, and I – oh ho ho. Yes! – I will share my wealth and fortune with you."

"No. Not again. The Ring doesn't hold power over me," Frodo said, nearly turning away.

"But you can't escape it, can't you?" his darker reflection said. "Why would you want to have everything you've already lost. In time, you will see that I am right." Just like that, his reflection shifted back into his own reflection.

Already, Frodo felt a pain inside his heart. The Ring was still there. He didn't know when it would heal. His body, mind and spirit needed time to rest, to think. If only…

"Mr. Frodo…" It was Sam's voice. It was Sam. Samwise Gamgee… wait. Frodo was waking up now. But that dream… it seemed so real…

"Frodo!" It was Aragorn's voice. "He's coming to."

Frodo awoke now. He was resting peacefully on his bed. Sweat beaded down his face and into his eyes, stinging them for a moment. What his dark reflection said… no. He shook himself off. But how did he get back in the House of Healing? Maybe he was dreaming it all.

"Mr. Frodo, are you all right?" Sam asked, concerned.

"I had the strangest dream," Frodo said, sitting up. "There was a darker version of myself in the mirror. It said the Ring wouldn't let me go."

"Frodo, the Ring is gone now. It has no hold over you," Gandalf said.

"I know. I wonder if I'll ever heal," Frodo said, doubtful.

"Mr. Frodo, we traveled to Mordor and back," Sam said. "If there's anything we can do for you, to help you heal…"

"I could use some food," Frodo said.

"On its way," Aragorn said, as Pippin Took came in with a tray of food and drink. "Eat. And be glad we don't have the Ring to worry about."

"Then what can we worry about?" Pippin said.

"Pippin Took, for the last time, do not bring up that – that – subject," Gandalf said. "There aren't any flightless birds near the Bay of Belfalas."

"Says you," Pippin shrugged.

Frodo laughed merrily. Yes, he was glad the dream was passed. Now he could heal properly, for as long as it took, which, indeed, would take years. But he was ready for what came next. For even hope stayed, no matter where he went or what he saw. Hope was there and would stay that way, for years to come.

The End.

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Thanks for reading. :)