It was night. At least, it seemed to be. Frodo Baggins could hardly tell. It was so dark. And he, he was so very tired. He wished that Gollum would allow them to stop, at least for a moment. However, they dare not stop. The place they had entered was dangerous. If they stopped, one of them could gaze into the murky waters and into the eyes of the dead that floated there or at the lights. Either of those things would draw them to their deaths and then, the journey would be a failure. Evil would win and anything that was good in this world, it would perish.

No matter what, Frodo did not want this. He longed for there to be good in the world – light in the lives of all he knew and did not know. Somehow, Frodo would finish the task; if not for himself, then for all he knew and cared for and for those beings that he did not know.

Time seemed to drag as he, Sam and Gollum struggled through the marshes. The scenery stayed the same and because there was heavy cloud cover, there was no telling what the time actually was. Frodo stopped and stared at his dirty toes. He sighed heavily. "We should not have come this way," said Frodo suddenly, breaking the silence, "We have made a terrible mistake!"

He had been warned. Gandalf had warned him. However, Frodo had forgotten with everything that had happened – from the fall of Gandalf, to Boromirs death, to the narrow escape from the Emyn Muil. He felt ashamed. However, now, as he stood, staring at his feet, he remembered the conversation as if it had just happened, even though it had been months ago that Frodo had heard the warning.

It had happened while Frodo Baggins had been recuperating in Rivendell. He and Sam had spent the day exploring the Elven land while Merry and Pippin were making merriment with the elves. The eve was falling fast and Frodo was getting ready to go to a feast where a great storyteller would be speaking tonight. For the first time on the journey, and one of the few times, Frodo felt completely safe. Going to a feast and listening to stories reminded him of being back in the Shire and it made him feel content.

As Frodo buttoned up his waistcoat, a small, shy smile formed on his face. The smile lightened up the darkness that had clouded him since the attack. He hummed a small, nameless tune as Frodo left his quarters. He walked along the pathways, enjoying the balmy night and the sound of birds and insects chirping in the distance. Hearing a rustling behind him, Frodo turned. Gandalf was rushing towards him. The wizard stopped. He was huffing. "Frodo," he panted after a moment, "Dear lad, how are you?"
Frodo stared at the wizard. A frown creased his smooth forehead. "Well, thank-you," he replied, "Is there something important that I must know? You seemed…hurried."

Gandalf sighed. He smiled at Frodo as he placed a gnarled hand upon his small shoulder. "Yes, Frodo Baggins, I do have something very important to tell you," Gandalf said. He stopped and did not say a word for several long minutes. When he did, his words were cryptic. "As you value your life or your reason keep away from the moor," exclaimed the wizard with a nod. He let go of Frodo's shoulder and left the hobbit to ponder his words.

Frodo Baggins was stirred from his thoughts by a shrill voice. "We mustn't linger! No! No," shouted Gollum as he pulled on Frodo's hand, "There is evil in these lands Master. We mustn't follow the lights or the nasssssty eyessss!"

"Yes, Sméagol, you are quite right. Let us move onwards. The quicker our pace, the faster we shall be out of this horrid land." Frodo smiled at Gollum. He let the pitiful creature pull him forwards, but after awhile, he let go of Sméagol's hand and walked on his own.