"The world is changed...

I feel it in the water...

I feel it in the earth...

I smell it in the air..."

The Broken Land

Part 1: Dreams

Chapter 1

Frodo walked in a forest. He could hear creatures hurrying from view as he
passed them, watching his dark form with black, unblinking eyes.

But these sounds were not the ones that were puzzling him and had caused him to come. There was an ominous howl that rose from the black night. Not
a howl that was made by any wolf or wild dog, although those were
foreboding enough. This one was different; it shattered the warm summer night like dry lightning and sent a chill up Frodo's spine like no animal's
voice could do.

He could tell that it held so much more. It made him feel a sense of dread
mixed with sadness, fear, anger, a feeling of hopelessness, of
helplessness. He had never felt a sensation like this before. The Ring
burned his skin beneath his shirt, his Hobbit curls were tossed in a
powerful wind that did not touch anything else in the forest.

A real fear clenched his chest and he immediately wanted to turn, to run away and never come back to this place. His eyes darted back and forth like a deer trying to decide the safest path: the one with four hunters or the one with a blazing fire at the end. His mind wheeled and he started to feel
light headed. Still, the howl drew him on.

He found the end of the trees and realized that the howl was being made by the whipping wind, but that was beside the point now. Straight in front of him, forever wreathed in blazing fire, was the Eye of Sauron. It rolled in
its socket and came to rest on Frodo's face.

The Ring became red hot...

There was a shriek...

Frodo's head swam and he crumpled to the ground...

"Mister Frodo. Mister Frodo? Wake up Master!" Sam shook Frodo. For the past fifteen minutes Frodo had been alternating between flailing his entire body
around and becoming rigidly still.

Pippin and Merry watched anxiously. Frodo's condition had been worsening
each day that they had been traveling. Ever since they had faced the
Wraiths on Amon Sul.

Finally Frodo jerked awake and sat up, breathing laboriously.

"What was it Mister Frodo? What happened?"

Frodo didn't answer immediately, letting himself calm down. It had been a dream, nothing more. But it had seemed so real, the howling, the forest, the... He shivered involuntarily. The Great Eye, with a slit for a pupil, like a cat or a snake. He could feel the flames on his cheek. He reached into his shirt and drew out the Ring, but had to quickly release it because
it was still scorching.

"Nothing, Sam. It was only a dream."

"Here Frodo, take a drink." Pippin handed him a canteen and Frodo took it
in shaking hands. He ran a hand through his hair and found that it was
matted with sweat.

Sam's cool hand found Frodo's forehead and he said, "Frodo, you're burning
up. You can't go on like this."

Merry stepped aside and Strider knelt down beside Frodo. He put his hand on the Ring and drew it away quickly. "The Ring burns. Sauron knows that Frodo is weakened and is trying to drive him into becoming his servant through
both the Morgul blade and Frodo's dreams. He will stop at neither
wakefulness nor sleep. We must press on faster."

"But Strider! He's sick! Can't you see he'll die if we try to move
faster?!" Merry had been following this strange man because Frodo had assured him that it was safe, but he would not tolerate him dragging Frodo
across the land without proper healing.

"Patience, Master Meriadoc, I beg you! Patience!" Strider's tone was icy as he tried to keep his patience with the Hobbit. "I will get him to the Lord Elrond as fast as I am able to!" Strider gathered Frodo, who had lain back in his bed of blankets with his eyes closed and muttering things under his breath, into his arms as he said this and started out of their campsite.

Merry snorted in defiance, followed begrudgingly and fell silent for the
first few hours' journey.

Around midday, Strider stopped and laid Frodo down. He had fallen back into a fevered sleep and occasionally been heard to call out Gandalf's name. Sam
felt his brow and looked to the others.

"He's getting worse."

"Stay here and try to wake him. I'm going to find some more athelas for his wound; it seemed to be working to slow the poison." With a slight nod, he
left the three Hobbits to tend Frodo.

Only a few minutes later, bells were heard. The soft clip clop of a horse's
feet and a sharp whistle.

His vision was swimming and that horrible howling had come back. An Eye started to take shape in front of him and the Ring heated up. Frodo looked,
but could see no escape or place to hide. He knew in his heart that he could not hide from the Dark Lord's sight no matter what he was behind or
under.

All of a sudden, a white burst of light drown out the Eye and Frodo beheld the fairest woman he had ever seen. She was clad in white with hair that was like spun gold. Her face glowed with unseen radiance. Frodo gasped and felt as though he should kneel to this heavenly creature. Surely she was an angel come to take him away from the land of the living at last. But she
did not.

She dismounted and dropped to his side. Her horse shied from Frodo, but she had no need to tie it up. As the horse stepped, Frodo fancied he heard a soft tinkle of bells. The woman's eyes were concerned and she felt his brow as Sam had done so many times. Her hand was like velvet and Frodo seemed to
calm. She whispered to him in a tongue he did not understand.

She was an Elf and she had been sent from Elrond to meet them. Frodo sensed what she was saying, he knew what she was saying, but failed understand her
speech, nonetheless.

Carefully, she gathered him into her arms and sat him atop her horse. She
turned and Frodo heard a man's voice that he could not remember who it belonged to... there were others as well, he couldn't recall anyone...he
felt lost, confused.

Then he heard the woman again, she spoke in labored Westeron, as if it was
a foreign tongue for her. "Frodo, I am Aratári. I will help you."

Frodo vaguely became aware of his voice talking. He muttered, "I shall not
remember that. Let me call you by something I will remember: Lissimîr"

She smiled and spoke as only he could hear, "As you wish."

Then his head begun to swim and he started to fall...

Something broke his fall and steadied him...

The ground began to move and he heard a shriek of a Ringwraith...

"Fly!" Strider called, "Fly! They are upon us!"

Aratári urged her horse forward and drug herself on and as it obeyed. The Wraiths followed her and she rode as fast as she dared with Frodo clinging
feebly to the saddle.

They rode over the last stretch of land between them and Rivendell. The
River Bruinin was calm for today, but its waters burbled with mounting
ferocity as the Wraiths approached.

Aratári dismounted and stepped towards the shore where the sinister figures stood. She spoke in a clear voice that rang throughout the river valley, "Frodo is under the protection of the Elves! Go and follow him no more!"

She brandished her sword and the Ringwraiths hissed and spat at her, urging
their horses into the water.

Frodo watched the proceedings dimly and half aware of what was actually happening. He was startled when the waves of the river came crashing around the bend, in the shape of horses, and swallowed the Nazgul up. They were carried downstream, shrieking. His head pounded with the noise and he felt
that he was falling again.

Aratári saw and ran to him. He hit the lake bed before she could come to
him. "Frodo! Frodo! No! You can make it, Rivendell's just around the
corner! You're going to live! Don't let them overcome you!" She was
helpless to stop him as he fell into her arms, unconscious.

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Well, there's the first chapter! Hope you like!

Please R/R!