Disclaimers: I do not own The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings. The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings and other Middle-earth works belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers, Turbine and Standing Stones Games. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material—original characters, original locations, etc.—belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.
Inspiration for Chapter 14: Bella's Transformation Scene in "The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn—Parts 1 and 2".
Warning! This chapter is Rated T for dark, intense images.
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Smeagol found himself plummeting straight down, heading for the Negative Dimensions. Fire and ash were everywhere he turned. There was also a halo of light, guiding him on this trail.
There was more at work here than fire and ash, something which Smeagol feared would happen.
"No! Smeagol doesn't want to go! Not again!" Smeagol cried, tears in his eyes.
"Smeagol," Gollum's voice protruded the air. The shadowy gangly creature was lurking in this fiery space, keen on catching him yet again.
That is, until a gentle hand pulled Smeagol away from Gollum. Smeagol wasn't heading down. He was seeing more of the Negative Dimensions. The fire and ash were only the smaller area from which the Negative Dimensions gained fuel.
Smeagol was pulled out of the fire and ash, heading straight for a land covered in darkness. There were trees around, but the sky was dark, with rolling dark grey clouds and a massive sunlight glowing over the landscape.
"These are the Negative Dimensions," Eru Ilúvatar's voice protruded the area. Eru smiled, telling Smeagol, "You've been here before."
"Smeagol thought he would stay here… again," Smeagol said, somber.
Eru gave it some thought, "Would you like to leave and return to the surface? The Fourth Timelines needs you. As do we all."
"You mean I have a choice?" Smeagol didn't know when he spoke like everyone else, instead of in the third person. It was strange.
Eru nodded. "But of course, should you need me, I will return for you." He held Smeagol, telling him, "Smeagol, awaken."
.
Smeagol jumped. At least, his body did the moment his soul and his spirit returned to his body. He was back in Sindra's house, with Sindra sleeping next to him.
He looked up and around, colors streaming across his vision. But at least, the drunken sensation he felt before had melted away.
Smeagol sighed, "Smeagol almost died back there. Why did Smeagol drink so much rum, ale, and beer? Even so much champagne? Why did Smeagol do that?"
"Oh ho! I wouldn't say you drank too much champagne," Yavanna's voice called out to him.
Smeagol looked around in interest, wondering where Yavanna was lurking. He looked up and around, hoping she would show herself. By the time he looked near Sindra, he saw her. Yavanna in all her glory and reverence, for she was donned in that forest green dress that Smeagol favored.
The very thought of seeing that green dress reminded him of fish… mmm. A fish sandwich would be good right now.
"Where? How?" Smeagol asked.
Yavanna pressed an index finger to her lips. She sighed, saying, "Not now. I will show myself again. I promise. Right now, take care of Sindra. She is important. I'll see you soon." She disappeared in a bright light, leaving Smeagol perplexed.
What happened to him happened. Smeagol was lucky to be alive.
He turned to Sindra, kissing her gently on the forehead. The very smell of her fragrance overwhelmed him. He nearly thought about killing her, but then he retracted. Gollum wasn't overwhelming him now. He was safe. They were all safe.
At least, they were for now.
Oh, where did Frodo go? Where did Sam go? And Bilbo? That was an excellent question.
"No! Smeagol will rest now. Sindra must be protected," Smeagol said, sleeping next to her on the torn, carpeted floor.
.
Samwise Gamgee meandered through the woods.
He didn't understand. Ever since Frodo Baggins, Samwise's best friend, his true friend in the whole world, turned vampiric, all Frodo cared about these days was Beatrice, Beatrice, Beatrice! Frodo hadn't even mentioned Sam. It was as if Frodo didn't know Sam was there.
And when Sam did talk to Frodo, Frodo either growled at him, or patiently waited until Beatrice moved. Sam didn't understand. Frodo wasn't himself and Sam, dear ol' Sam, had to do something!
Sam had to get his friend back. If not for Frodo's sake, then at least for their friendship. Sam wasn't this way towards Rosie Cotton. Whenever Sam and Rosie were together, they talked about Frodo. They worried about Frodo's safety, as well as wondered about each other. But there was no way they'd stop thinking about their friends, just for the sake of being together.
That was not what friendship was about! And Frodo needed to realize that.
Hmm. What did this girl have on Frodo that his longtime friends couldn't fix? What was it about her that drove Frodo bonkers? Sam had to find out, but when he got together with Frodo and with Beatrice, Sam would remind them to think of their friends and family, not just each other.
There was more to romantic relationships than just focusing on the couple. This girl was trouble and he'd see to it that Mr. Frodo realized this and came back to him.
.
Sam sighed. He was standing on the threshold of Mr. Frodo's tent. There, inside Mr. Frodo's tent was Frodo setting Beatrice down on his bed to sleep. It would seem as if Mr. Frodo had moved Beatrice to his tent tonight.
Sam huffed. He had to go in there. He had to face Frodo. But how was Sam to do it?
Sam tossed the firewood on the ground in front of Mr. Frodo's tent. Sam risked his neck for Mr. Frodo. Even on their quest, Mr. Frodo didn't give up on Sam. Not now! Not like this! They were so close to going home!
And dear Rosie Cotton. Boy, Sam wondered if she missed him, too, and missed Mr. Frodo.
Yes, it was time.
Sam made his way inside Mr. Frodo's tent, lighting Mr. Frodo's lantern, stunning the poor hobbit.
"Whoa! What are you doing?" Frodo asked, backing away from the lantern.
"We have to talk. Mr. Frodo, you are not a vampire," Sam said, inching the lantern on the end table. Frodo stayed there, hesitant to go near the lantern.
"What are you doing?" Frodo snarled at him.
"Mr. Frodo, you are not a vampire," Sam said, dismissing this. "Now please, let's go home."
Frodo chortled, chuckling as he said, "How do you know that? Surely, you know what vampires can do. Surely, you must realize this."
"Mr. Frodo, think about this," Sam said, worriedly.
Frodo gazed at Beatrice, smiling wildly at her.
Sam did his best to reason with him, but to no avail, for as he spoke to him, Sam noticed Frodo's sharp, venomous gaze turned towards him.
Still, Sam asked him, "What makes you think you're a vampire? You've been doin' nothing except look at Beatrice all day. You're spending too much time with her. We need to go home. We need to find Smeagol and Master Bilbo. Please, Mr. Frodo! Let's come home! Forget her!"
Frodo chuckled, sinisterly, "You honestly think I can control this." He tilted his head from side to side, reasoning with himself, "Oh Sam," he chuckled, merrily, as he spoke to his friend, his best friend, his true friend, who he wouldn't hurt, unless Sam made him, "even you cannot understand what vampires do."
"You are not a vampire, Mr. Frodo. I'll prove it to you," Sam said, grabbing Frodo's arm.
Frodo snarled. "Get your hand off me," he threatened, staring at his best friend with a venomous glare. "Do you want to see what a vampire's life is like? It's not a path I chose."
Sam chuckled, finding it hard to believe him, "You are no…" he turned to Beatrice. He released Frodo, approaching Beatrice in seconds. Sam checked her neck, finding bite marks on the sides of her neck. Sam gulped. What was he now experiencing? "…she's not been turned, has she?"
Beatrice opened her eyes. She stared at him with a venomous look on her face. Her mouth watered at the sight of him. "Yes Sam, I am a vampire." She sat up, right as Sam backed away from her, landing square on the floor and scraping his leg against a piece of metal.
"Ow!" Sam covered the bruised and bloody wound fast, but to no avail. He knew this was a bad idea. And now, he was stuck in a tent with a bunch of vampires! Oh, what did he do to deserve this?
"Shhhh!" Frodo kneeled beside him, holding fast to Sam's leg, where the wound was located. Frodo held onto the back of Sam's neck, whispering in his ear, "This will only hurt a little. You think I chose this path?" He grinned, "You are sorely mistaken. And now, you will see the kind of life I ended up choosing with it. For your good, you'll be kissing Rosie. You'll want her. You'll crave her blood. And you won't be able to stop. She'll be all that's on your mind, because you'll want her. It'll be the most succulent blood you've ever tasted. And you won't be able to resist. For she will be your bride and you her groom. Just wait and see.
"It will only take a moment, Sam, but a moment is all you'll need," Frodo said, diving for the side of Sam's neck and biting down. He sent the venom through to Sam's veins, kissing the wound a moment later, healing it. Frodo released Sam, drinking Sam's blood that was on his fingers and his hand, before passing that same blood to Beatrice to drink, which she gladly drank until it was gone.
Beatrice smiled, reminding Sam, "Oh, and if you turn Rosie Cotton into a vampire, she'll be craving your blood, too. That's all she'll think about. You and your blood. Good luck with that, Samwise Gamgee. You'll need it."
.
Sam's hand trembled. He lay on his back, his head burning up or what felt like a terrible burning sensation. He didn't know what was happening. It honestly felt as though he were dying. Oh, how he wished he died, anything to stop the pain.
The burning sensation coursed throughout his entire body, making it hard for him to do anything else. When the sensation was over, what remained was a strange liquid mixture coursing through his veins, arteries, bones, and organs, until it finally stopped at his throat, which yearned for blood.
He opened his eyes, finding his brown eyes a brighter color. At least, that's what he saw in his reflection. He sniffed, searching for his beloved Rosie Cotton. No. She was in the Shire! He had to have her!
"Sam!" Frodo stopped him, handing to him some fresh rabbit meat. "Just caught it—it's fresh."
Sam took the meat, scarfing it down. His throat was parched. He needed water! "Water."
"Here, Sam," Beatrice said, handing to him a glass filled to the brim with water, from which Sam took graciously.
"Thank you," Sam said with a snarl. He still didn't trust Beatrice, but maybe now he understood her better.
Beatrice sighed. She turned to Frodo, asking, "So, what are we to do with him? He didn't want to be a vampire. Now, he gets it."
Frodo chuckled. "Hm hm. I have an idea. Oh Sam!" He grabbed his arm, right as Sam broke his glass with his bare hand. Sam snarled at him, nearly throwing him to the ground. Frodo reacted, caught in a fight against Sam until Frodo knocked him over. "What are you thinking about? Revenge against Smeagol? Oh please! Do you really think he's a threat to us?"
"He hasn't changed, has he?" Sam asked, snarling.
"No, he has changed. Why do you think he's not here with us?" Beatrice asked, curiously. "It's been a few days, since anyone's seen Smeagol, hasn't it?"
"Yeah. What is that creature doing?" Sam asked, calming down.
"He's not a threat to us, Sam," Frodo said, knowing if he said the wrong thing, Sam might go on a rampage. The moment Frodo released Sam; Sam sat up.
Thoughts of revenge lingered over Sam's mind. Oh, how more than anything he wanted to subdue Gollum, turn him into a vampire. If anything, that would cause Smeagol to go into a brawl against him and Frodo, if Sam let him.
"Well, I think the last thing we ought to do is turn him into a vampire," Sam cautioned. "I don't know what that creature would do if he turned vampiric."
"That's the spirit," Frodo said, standing up. "And I must tell you that Beatrice is not threat to us either. I told you, Sam. You'll be kissing Rosie soon." He clasped Sam's shoulder, telling him, "Let me take care of Smeagol. You go off and find Rosie. Remember, Smeagol's bound to me and I to him. It only seems quaint."
"Are you sure about this? Turning Smeagol into a vampire?" Sam asked, as if he was reading Frodo's thoughts.
"Oh! You can't go anywhere yet," Beatrice said with a smile. She looked up and around as a vampire entered the tent, carrying his jewelry box filled with bronze rings.
It was Arius and he was here to help Samwise Gamgee and Beatrice out; at least, that's what Beatrice assumed he was doing here. Arius' bronze hair was still short and ruffled. His skin was white as snow, while his facial features were fair and rugged. He was donned in black and red robes, along with a black cloak that flowed over his shoulders and down to the floor. His pants were made out of black leather and seemed to match his attire. His boots were black and made out of black leather.
Arius smiled at Sam, opening his box to reveal bronze rings he crafted. "For you, Sam. And to you, Beatrice. Take your pick. It'll help with the sunlight." He added, as a warning to Frodo, Sam, and Beatrice, "Don't take them off unless you have to. Even then, I would take them off at night, just so you can have a bath or a shower, and then put the rings back on your fingers. That way, your skin will be clean and so will the ring."
"You mean we can take the rings off?" Frodo asked, chipper.
"Yes," Arius said, just as Sam chose the bronze ring he wanted. The bronze ring Sam chose had an aquamarine gemstone embedded to the top of the ring. Sam tried on the ring; it fit perfectly.
Beatrice also took a ring. She chose the opal ring, for its jewel was embedded to the bronze ring. The ring certainly looked beautiful. It was just her size, something she admired. She smiled, as she tried it on, finding the ring fit her index finger perfectly.
She looked up at the others, watching Frodo and Sam listen to Arius and heed the things he was saying. They trusted him, or so it would seem. But could Beatrice trust Arius? That was a good question.
Arius looked up, telling Frodo, Beatrice, and Sam, "But only at night. Do not take the rings off during the day, until we figure out a way for us, our breed of vampires, to walk out in sunlight. But that might take time."
"We should ask Eru Ilúvatar about this," Frodo said. "I'm sure he'll know a remedy to help us with the daylight. I mean, it's not like we want to wear these rings all day, do we? We want to take them off."
Arius sighed. "That's why these rings are a temporary solution."
"But how do we walk in sunlight without the rings? Unless we can break the vampire's curse…" Beatrice was interrupted by Arius, who shook his head.
"By the time we break the curse, it will be complete. Now, some of us will be vampires even after the curse breaks, but by then, we'll be able to move out in sunlight without these rings. It's another step on your journeys, Frodo and Beatrice," Arius said with a shrug.
"So, that's how it works?" Frodo asked, cunningly. "When do we start to break this curse?"
Sam sniffed the air. He closed his eyes, picking up all kinds of new scents. He could smell rabbits hoping around, chewing up green grass and drinking from a nearby stream. He could smell deer moving about the forest, making noises as they walked. There were also birds chirping and singing, which delighted Sam's senses.
So, this was how Smeagol felt when he wanted to chase birds and eat them. Hmm. Sam would have to repay the creature. Sam still wanted his revenge on Smeagol, but that would have to wait, and maybe when Sam wasn't so vampiric.
"You'll have to excuse me. I've got some rabbits to hunt," Sam said, opening his eyes and darting out of the tent.
"Sam? Sam, wait! Sam!" Frodo called out, stopping Sam. "Do not go after Smeagol. Let me take care of him," he repeated, hoping that would stop Sam from planting revenge against the gangly creature.
"So, you believe everyone can be saved?" Sam asked, cautious.
Frodo nodded. "I do. Even as a vampire, I still haven't given that up. And you're a new vampire. Let me help you."
Sam nodded. "Then come with me. For I fear the worst, if I lay a hand on Gollum."
"Gollum and Smeagol are separate, but yes, I will help you face Smeagol," Frodo said, as Beatrice and Arius left Frodo's tent.
"Good luck finding everyone. Meet me at my cave when you're done searching around. Then we can begin our new task of getting that coven together," Arius said, pleased.
"I'm sorry? A coven?" Sam asked, facing him in confusion. "Oh!" he felt his throat. It was craving blood.
"We'll talk more soon. Sam needs to feed," Frodo said, taking Sam's wrist. "Sam, come on. We'd better go off and hunt."
"Right. Come on, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, following Frodo at top speed through the forest.
.
Beatrice sighed in aggravation.
The last thing she wanted to do was to abandon Frodo. Frodo meant the world to her. Without him, how would Beatrice cope? How could she live with the fact that Frodo may part ways with her? Was there no other way for them to be together?
She sighed a second time, debating on what to do next. She closed her mouth, staring quizzically at the forest. Her glare reflected how she was feeling. Mistrust and indecisiveness loomed over her. She didn't know what to do. And all these muddled memories didn't help.
She remembered being human, but there was something else to it, too. As if it was an old past life she'd forgotten. Something had gone wrong.
What was her previous name from her former life? Melody… Melody… Corner? Melody Corner it was, but what happened to her? How did she know Frodo? These were questions that needed serious answers.
She looked at the forest where Frodo and Sam had fled. She couldn't take waiting for them. She would find her real parents. Alone? Yes. Without Frodo? That's when she stopped walking.
She looked at Arius, who looked back at her with a cunning expression on his face, "Leaving so soon?" Arius told her, "But seriously, I think if you stay put. Frodo will come back."
"I'm sorry. I can't wait for him to come back," Beatrice said, angry.
"Hmm. Do you really think this is all about you? What if Frodo leaves you? He clearly didn't have any trouble leaving you, as he went hunting. You are part mermaid, Beatrice. If that is your real name." He chuckled.
"Don't talk to me like that… or again! I'm fine," Beatrice took off running to the city. She had no intention of staying. She needed to hunt for blood, even if that meant doing something drastic.
.
Frodo followed Sam into the forest. They ran, enjoying the warm air and the sound of leaves crunching against their hairy hobbit feet.
The thrill of the hunt was upon them.
Frodo laughed, enjoying the run with Sam. He feared nothing would tear them apart. Not even their friendship could be broken. At this point, Frodo was happy to have Sam as his companion and his best friend, who he could count on for anything. Even this moment, when the hunt was upon them.
Frodo hung back, watching Sam sniff around in search of food. Frodo told Sam, "Now, think of the animals you want to hunt. Don't go after the humans. The only blood you should drink is the animals and Rosie. If you're that desperate for food, then eat human food, not human blood."
Frodo clasped Sam's shoulder, getting his attention, "Sam, you all right?"
Sam sniffed the air. He knew that scent anywhere.
Beatrice was on the move.
"You should go and seek Beatrice out," Sam said, hotly. "I fear she may have gotten into mischief."
Frodo shook his head. The pull he felt… it was there… it was strong… it was beckoning him to chase after his beloved. But why? "No!" He had to fight this! He had to. Beatrice wanted to be alone. So, why did he feel the same?
"Frodo, go after her," Sam said, cautious.
Frodo shook his head. "She doesn't want me to come with her. Frankly, I don't feel like… going after her. I don't know why that is."
"Oh!" Sam understood. He could feel the pull, too, towards Rosie. Oh, he wanted her! He wanted her blood so badly. But Rosie was fine. And he was fine, too. Fine enough to hunt a few coneys that scampered towards him.
He moved fast to grab the coneys, snapping their necks, and drinking their blood. It was savory. He knew he needed Rosie's blood to satisfy him. He sniffed the air, telling Frodo, "Beatrice is in the city. I can smell her. But I don't know what she's doing."
Frodo chuckled. His heart throbbed for her, longing to have her by his side. She would be all right, wouldn't she?
Sam looked up, asking him, "Do you have any idea where she is? You're the one with visions, remember?"
"Eh… right," Frodo said, feeling his mind distorted. He never experienced this before. It was as if Beatrice was blocking a part of his mind, but what that meant remained to be seen.
It was hard to say what Beatrice was doing. Maybe Frodo should leave her with that notion. But then, he didn't want her doing anything reckless. But then, he and Beatrice had been on their own for some time, before they met. Could that mean they weren't really apart?
"Ahh!" Frodo winced, feeling his heart. His heart that wasn't beating, but there was a beating sensation there. It just wasn't the same. "No! Noo!" He collapsed on the ground, focusing on her. His beloved Beatrice. He couldn't take it any longer! His eyes glowed a fierce bright blue in rage.
He snarled. Oh, he must have her!
"Go to her, Mr. Frodo! You've got to calm yourself down," Sam said, resting his hand against Frodo's shoulder.
Frodo snarled. "Will you be all right, Sam?" he asked, trying his hardest not to sound too hard on Sam. It wasn't Sam's fault. He wasn't the one running.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go after her. I'll stay here and find some more coneys to hunt down and eat," Sam said, right as he caught a whiff of Rosie Cotton's scent. Her scent was driving him mad. He couldn't take it anymore.
Sam and Frodo gave each other a knowing expression. Yes, they must have their beloveds.
"Go!" Frodo and Sam screamed, cackling wickedly.
"I'll see you soon, Mr. Frodo!" Sam called out, darting off to the tomb.
"See you later, Sam," Frodo called out to his best friend. They both knew what they had to do. Frodo smirked, taking his time as he made his way to the city, hoping to catch Smeagol—eh, Beatrice off-guard.
.
Tildë stopped at an underground cave network. She pointed this out to Bilbo, who stared at the chasm with much delight. It wasn't what Bilbo expected, but here they were and Bilbo was ready for anything.
He hoped that Smeagol and Gollum wouldn't reunite. And Frodo… Sam… oh, what became of them? Surely, they were with Beatrice and Beatrice was safe. Of course, Bilbo couldn't count the same for Frodo and Sam.
Oh, this was a bad idea!
"I should probably go back. My friends… my nephew…" Bilbo's voice faded. He wanted to retreat, but Tildë's hand stopped him from moving. "Please, let me go off and find them. Something doesn't feel right."
"Bilbo," Tildë explained, "I hate to tell you this, but they're off on this own." She showed him the cave, reminding him, "Now, this cave will take you to anywhere you wish. All you have to do is wish and you will see the place you want to go.
"Now, I will wait for your friends. But you must go," Tildë said, moving him along.
"Think of anything. Right! That shouldn't be too hard," Bilbo said. Automatically, he thought of the Shire. But where could he go to find a place that was similar to the Shire? Hmm… if only he knew…
…he opened his eyes. Before him, beyond the cave, was a forested area with deciduous trees. It looked like the right spot.
"Go Bilbo. I know that land anywhere," Tildë said. "It's a welcoming place for any hobbit, elf, dwarf, man, or wizard. Enjoy!" She wandered off, leaving Bilbo alone.
"Wait… eh…" Bilbo faced the cave again. Well, there was nothing for it. "Well, here I go. I just hope Frodo and Sam made it out all right. And Beatrice, dear Beatrice, where are you?" He managed to make it through to the forested land, just as the cave swallowed him up. He slid out of the cave's tunnel, landing in the woods.
The cave returned to normal, leaving Bilbo confused. "Oh Frodo, where are you?"