Everything belongs to Tolkien. This is a alternate story. I hope you like it!
Calad Onnen Ned Dannen Dúath
The boy lay gasping, his chest heaving. A sheen of sweat was upon his brow, and his skin was unnaturally pale. The older hobbit sitting beside him sponged his brow, while praying to whatever deity that would listen to help the boy. Things had been getting worse and worse in the last few hours, and the older hobbit was losing the last bit of hope he had. The healer had said that nothing could be done except make him comfortable until the time came. He had thought the boy would survive, but with each failing breath he knew the other would not. Tears came to his old eyes.
"Oh, my dear boy. My beloved little one, oh, Frodo," Bilbo murmured softly.
The boy only gasped weakly. Bilbo looked out the window and saw the stars were not visible, a reflection of the dying light in the boy.
Young Sam had been at his best friend's side for nearly two days since he had fallen ill. Bilbo had finally sent Sam to rest in a spare room across the hall, telling the poor lad that he would yell if anything changed.
Now Bilbo was watching Frodo by himself, and something told him the boy would not survive the night. His heart did not wish to believe it. Frodo had always been strong, and always held on, even when all the stacks were against him. But this time, death would overcome him.
Suddenly a tight hand closed around Bilbo's wrist. He looked into the overly bright fever blue eyes of his nephew, and saw terror and pain, as well as supreme strength shining in them.
"Help me, Bilbo, help me!" Frodo gasped.
"Of course, dear boy, just hold on," Bilbo exclaimed then turned to the door, "Samwise, get the healer!"
Bilbo then turned back to his nephew, distressed to see blue tinge the boy's lips.
"No, the Ring! Must destroy the Ring! Or all is lost!" Frodo stressed.
For a second Bilbo saw a bright figure in place of Frodo, a brilliantly white lighted creature that was battling against a darker foe and losing. The he saw Frodo once more.
The young hobbit's eyes rolled back into his head then closed as he convulsed. Bilbo tried to still his movement, tried to hold on to him, when Frodo's convulsions suddenly stopped. And with one final ragged breath, Frodo Baggins died, nearly taking the fate of Middle Earth with him.
Calad Onnen Ned Dannen Dúath
The boy lay gasping, his chest heaving. A sheen of sweat was upon his brow, and his skin was unnaturally pale. The older hobbit sitting beside him sponged his brow, while praying to whatever deity that would listen to help the boy. Things had been getting worse and worse in the last few hours, and the older hobbit was losing the last bit of hope he had. The healer had said that nothing could be done except make him comfortable until the time came. He had thought the boy would survive, but with each failing breath he knew the other would not. Tears came to his old eyes.
"Oh, my dear boy. My beloved little one, oh, Frodo," Bilbo murmured softly.
The boy only gasped weakly. Bilbo looked out the window and saw the stars were not visible, a reflection of the dying light in the boy.
Young Sam had been at his best friend's side for nearly two days since he had fallen ill. Bilbo had finally sent Sam to rest in a spare room across the hall, telling the poor lad that he would yell if anything changed.
Now Bilbo was watching Frodo by himself, and something told him the boy would not survive the night. His heart did not wish to believe it. Frodo had always been strong, and always held on, even when all the stacks were against him. But this time, death would overcome him.
Suddenly a tight hand closed around Bilbo's wrist. He looked into the overly bright fever blue eyes of his nephew, and saw terror and pain, as well as supreme strength shining in them.
"Help me, Bilbo, help me!" Frodo gasped.
"Of course, dear boy, just hold on," Bilbo exclaimed then turned to the door, "Samwise, get the healer!"
Bilbo then turned back to his nephew, distressed to see blue tinge the boy's lips.
"No, the Ring! Must destroy the Ring! Or all is lost!" Frodo stressed.
For a second Bilbo saw a bright figure in place of Frodo, a brilliantly white lighted creature that was battling against a darker foe and losing. The he saw Frodo once more.
The young hobbit's eyes rolled back into his head then closed as he convulsed. Bilbo tried to still his movement, tried to hold on to him, when Frodo's convulsions suddenly stopped. And with one final ragged breath, Frodo Baggins died, nearly taking the fate of Middle Earth with him.