Author's Note: I don't own these people, if I did I probably would've thrown them into Mt. Doom…well, maybe not Frodo…er, uh…Anyways! Okay, this is a continuation of my other LOTR story, The Burning of the Ring, so if you didn't read that one, I suggest you do…sorry! To sum it up: Frodo and Legolas shared a dream (Frodo murdering Legolas) and this is a continuation…sequel…whatever!
Journey Continues
As Frodo and Sam marched slowly closer to Mordor, Legolas and the others prepared to leave their camp.
Legolas was still very sidetracked, and it took him close to ten minutes before he realized he had been packing rocks instead of equipment. He shook his head (trying to clear it of thoughts about the Hobbits) and began to unpack.
"Not done YET, elf?" asked Gimli, with his usual patience.
"Sorry, Mr. Dwarf, if I am not as fast as you obviously are." Legolas said, a chill in his voice that he had hardly used in all of his long life. He shook his head again, and said, "I'm sorry, I did not mean to be so harsh…I am distracted."
Gimli nodded, and moved on.
Legolas sighed, and continued packing.
"Kind of depressing, isn't it?" Aragorn asked, making Legolas jump. Aragorn saw this and said, "You must be out of it! I walked like an elephant!" Aragorn laughed lightly.
"What's depressing, Aragorn?" Legolas asked, blushing ever so slightly. Not wanting Aragorn to see this, he flipped his spun- gold blond hair on his face as he packed.
"Well," Aragorn began, eyes distant, "we started out with four hobbits, all laughing like children, and now we have none. And the fun part is, they are all probably heading to just about the same place."
Legolas smiled weakly, with his heart feeling like lead. "We should have protected them better."
"I know…I know…but we WILL find them…perhaps we'll even see their Shire." Aragorn replied lightly, but his eyes gave his feelings away. They turned colder and (if possible) more distant.
Legolas continued packing, his thoughts once again turning to his dream.
~*~*~*~
"Mr. Frodo? Would you like something to eat?" Sam asked Frodo, eyebrows furrowed. Though he did not say so, he was very concerned. In the past few days he had seen his master and friend lose weight and sleep.
"No, Sam…I'm fine…" Frodo said, his voice light and airy as he surveyed the beautiful sunrise coming out over the barren landscape.
Sam spared a glance at him over his shoulder. He was thin…to thin for a hobbit, in Sam's opinion. Frodo had been having nightmares that he refused to talk about with Sam, and Sam suspected that was the reason that he had been losing sleep.
They (or, rather, Sam) finished up their breakfast and packed up, ready to coax their aching feet into more walking. They moved slowly at first, then, as their muscles warmed up, they moved faster, enjoying the cool air against their bodies.
~*~*~*~
They walked for quite a while (they had whiddled their way down from six meals a day to two; Frodo showed no sign of caring, but Sam tired quicker) before settling down for the night. They quickly spread their "bedding" (or their spare clothes; there was no difference) and Sam prepared dinner.
Frodo once again declined eating, and Sam sat closer to him and asked, "Sir, are you going to sleep tonight, or are you going to stroke that…that…that creation, like last night?" Sam stared at Frodo, who looked shocked.
"Are you spying on me, Samwise?" Frodo asked coldly, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
"Mr. Frodo, meaning no disrespect, but you are losing the battle against the ring."
"Fine then." Frodo said, and got up.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked, looking around at the increasing darkness.
"For a walk…maybe I'll build up an appetite." Frodo replied coolly.
As he walked away, some part of him winced at the look on Sam's face. Poor Sam, he doesn't realize the danger he's in by tempting my anger…
Author's Note: I know this is short, but oh well…Please review!!!!
