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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The first time I worked on this story, it was all over the place. Hopefully, I've got a better handle of this story. We'll see what happens. :)

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Autumn was in the air, and the air itself was chilly. For the Shire folk, the fall season only meant that it was harvest time. And amongst the Shire folk celebrating the Autumn Harvest was the hobbit Frodo Baggins, who rushed across the village of Bywater, finding his way inside the Green Dragon inn.

Oh good. A warm, crackling fire was lit under the fireplace. But only one drink would ease Frodo's chilled hands and heart. He moved over to a stool, greeting the waitress Rosie Cotton, who was busy with a customer. It was fine with him, but right now, he was chilly.

"Frodo, what will you have?" Rosie asked him.

"A hot apple cider, please," Frodo said, passing some gold coins on the table.

"It'll be right up," Rosie said, moving about the drinks.

Frodo's teeth chattered. He rubbed his hands several times, but couldn't explain why he was so cold. It was as if… well, as if he was cold. Which was exactly where he was in this place. If only he could get warm… and comfortable… and… and…

THWACK!

"OW! Ah," Frodo massaged the back of his head. He looked around in time to see the large shovel. Boy, his head hurt.

"There we are. Fresh, hot apple cider," Rosie said, passing to the poor gentle-hobbit his drink.

"Thank you," Frodo said, taking a sip. It was hot to the touch. Really hot. Wait… what was going on… and why were the colors turning red… his head ached, but the pain was going away. What… it was the Green Dragon, but everyone wasn't paying attention to him. He called out to Rosie, "Rosie, this is good. Well brewed. Rosie?"

But Rosie didn't respond. What… this was the Green Dragon, right? Why then was he seeing various shadows… and strange red ripples… no. He was in the Shire, wasn't he?

"Frodo! Frodo…" called a voice similar to his own. "Frodo, over here! Frodo…"

Frodo turned around, only to see the whole room displaying various… well, a whole bunch of him in the dining area. They all acted similar to him, but were… no! They were his personalities. How did he know that… just now?

"Frodo, the gem!" the voices of he called. "The ruby gem. It's on the mug! Frodo, please take it!"

"Huh? Oh." Frodo pulled out a small diamond-shaped ruby gemstone. It was so beautiful. And there on the table, next to the mug, was a belt with seven leather placeholders, specific to gems. Pulling it up, he admired the belt for a moment, before placing the gem in its proper place. "This is important." Did he know what he was saying? Strapping the belt around his waist, Frodo stumbled towards the floor. He was in a lot of pain… well, his knees were.

Okay, the personalities – his personas – were pointing to the door. He reached for it, only to watch his personalities join together into one form… looking just like him.

"Where am I? This is the Green Dragon," Frodo said.

"You're not in the Green Dragon…" his persona said. "Or rather, you're inside one of the prism prisons. There are six more prisms you need to travel through, before you can proceed to the exit and your way home. Find these gems, escape the prism and you will be well." He moved out of the way, as the door opened. "Now go. Your quest begins."

Frodo stood up. But this persona looked strangely familiar. "You're my persona, aren't you?" He shrugged at the thought. "Will my other personalities show up?"

"You'll soon find out. But anything can appear inside this maze. And you are not the first to go through this prism prison, or the next prism prisons," his persona told him. Clasping a hand on Frodo's shoulder, his persona – yes, his persona was dressed in white – told him, calmly and encouraging, "Now go. Your journey awaits."

"Thank you," Frodo said, staring at the open doorway, revealing an orange landscape of the village of Bywater. He told himself, 'Come on. You can do this.' He sure hoped he was right. For when he stepped over the threshold, entering the orange prism prison, the door to the Green Dragon inn slammed shut behind him, enough to startle him into a wakeful state of being.

"No sense in stopping now." Frodo sure hoped he was on the right path. At least, he thought he was. Where was he again?