Disclaimers: All canon material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers, Turbine and Standing Stones Games. 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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This is one of those clichés I wanted to work on, simply because it's one of those unique clichés that stands out. Also, it's quite interesting to see hobbits with wings. Further inspiration came from Ancalime8301, who started the hobbits with wings fics. The wing!fic cliché isn't a new idea, but it's still fascinating to read and write.
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Frodo Baggins, a curly brown haired gentle-hobbit with blue eyes as bright and as a blue as the sky, enjoyed his party immensely. It was his Hundred Weight Feast and already there was a lot of drinking amongst his friends. Not that he drank much. He wanted to stay sober enough to help his friends to bed. Still, the food he served was delicious and…
DING DONG!
"I'll get that," Frodo said, approaching the front green door. Just as he reached it – WHACK! – he was blasted by sparkling dust. He collapsed on the floor, meeting the gaze of a strange woman in a black dress with a black cowl. "Ma'am, did you—" He tried to sat up slowly, but he couldn't. He asked the blonde-haired woman. "What did you do to me?"
"You now have wings," the woman told him. "You will be bed-ridden until you figure out how to use those wings. And then, only then, will you find the one person willing enough to break this spell cast upon you. Good luck." The woman disappeared in a spout of black dust.
"Mr. Frodo," it was Samwise Gamgee, the brown-haired hobbit and also Frodo's gardener, helping Frodo stand. "Come on. We've got to get you to bed."
"No. I have to find – ARRGH!" Frodo screamed. There was a static sound in the air turned to a ringing noise. He couldn't do anything. The next thing he knew, he was in his bed, sweating bullets. His back hurt immensely, like thousands of needles piercing his skin. It was those pokes that let him know how much he wanted to breathe… to move… and… to fly? He turned his gaze left to right. There were brown wings there, the plumage residing inside, ready to fly out of feathers and cause him to sneeze.
"Has he been sick all day?" Pearl Took asked, a golden haired hobbitess with a silver tray, complete with a silver tea kettle and teacups. Frodo was surprised to see her. Pearl stared at him as if she were seeing a ghost. "I should leave. This is embarrassing."
"I need to get out of here. I have to find…" Frodo choked back on some vomit. "I have to find the witch who cursed me."
"Mr. Frodo, you aren't going anywhere," Sam told him. "You need to rest."
"No, I have to find her," Frodo said, nearly screaming.
"Finish the spell," the woman in the black dress told him. Frodo stared at her now. She was so mesmerizing. The woman told him, "Finish it now!"
"No!" Frodo told her.
"He's hallucinating," Merry Brandybuck, a brown-haired hobbit with an eye for maps and horses, said.
"I know," Sam said.
"So what do we do?" Pippin Took, a golden-haired hobbit with an innocent nature, said.
"Mr. Frodo, you need to rest," Sam said.
"Rest! You must rest," the woman in the black dress told Frodo.
Frodo belted out a scream so loud even he couldn't stop. His vision shifted. He landed in a heap in an ice cave. And there was the blonde-haired woman, now dressed in blue. His wings flapped, breaking away the plumage, but causing Frodo to sneeze as he so thought.
"Ah. I see you're awake," the woman in blue said.
Frodo touched his forehead. There was sweat there. His heart raced inside his chest. He would be all right, wouldn't he?
"I told you rest was good, but you didn't listen," the woman in blue said. "And now you're risking your life trying to stay awake."
"Who are you?" Frodo asked, suspicious. "What am I doing here?"
The woman in blue faced him. "Do you want to know? I am the Snow Queen. I desire no mirror, but at the same time, you must break this spell. Sleep, Frodo Baggins. That is the only way you'll break this spell and free yourself of those wings. You're ill. Your life is on the line. Trust me."
"Trust you?" Frodo asked her, serious. "Why are you doing this? If my life means so much to you that you – AHHH!" His head thumped loudly in pain. He could feel it in his ears.
"Go to sleep, Frodo. Do you want those wings removed or not?" The Snow Queen asked him. "Look at you." She released the spell. Frodo collapsed on the ground with ease. "Frodo, let these wings of yours do as they were bred to do. They'll take you somewhere, far away from here, where you'll be at peace. And when you wake up, all will be put to rest. Now go. And don't come back, not even when you fall asleep."
"Why are you doing this?" Frodo asked, his eyelids growing heavy.
"Because we want the same thing." The Snow Queen told him, gently. "Someone who loves us. Now go. Go!"
Frodo fell silent. Sleep was upon him. He was floating in the air. He couldn't do anything except let the wings he had do their job. The air was so cold. So chilled. He was miles above the earth, across the sea – a great sea – and at last landing on a beach. The wings knew what they were doing. They found him a bed and – broke away from his back, leaving him with a clean back.
The bed was so comfortable. He fell asleep, finding his way through the threads of the darkness and back into a warm, soft mattress. He opened his eyes. There was an elderly wizard in grey robes. The room was so elegant. He knew who the wizard was. It was Gandalf.
"Good morning, Frodo," Gandalf said with a smile.
Frodo stared, stunned to see him. "Gandalf." And that was where he would learn of recent events that happened since his illness seeped through his skin. The good news was that his fever broke. Now it was time to catch up on recent events with his friends, even as a council formed to determine the fate of the One Ring, Sauron's ring of power.
The End.
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Thanks for reading. :)
