First things first.
I DON'T OWN THE LORD OF THE RINGS!
ALL RIGHTS BELONGS TO J.R.R TOLKIEN AND THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS OF THE MOVIES!

My second LOTR one-shot. I doubt that anyone will read this, but oh well, here it is.
I wanted to upload this so much sooner, but I couldn't because of an error that occured on this site for way too long.
Anyway, I don't even know why I translated this in the first place, seeing that most of my writing gets ignored here.
But here it is now and maybe one person might read this and even enjoy this a bit.

I wrote this in celebration of a big wish of mine, finally coming true last month.
After 21 long years, I have been able to watch all three Lord of the Rings movies again in cinema recently.
It was an amazing experience. To watch my most favorite movies of all time on the big screen again made me tear up.
Seriously, it was so epic. These are no longer just movies for me. Every time I watch them, I feel like traveling to middle earth :)
These movies (and also the Hobbit movies) mean so much to me.

The third movie totally blew me away, because the sound in my cinema was out of this world.
When the Oliphants showed up, I could feel every step of these monsters in my own body.
Seriously, the whole room was shaking and I could feel tears in my eyes from sheer epicness.
It was almost too much for me to handle. Such an epic moment.
No other movie on this world is able to do something like this to my feelings :).

And before you ask: I am not wasting my time with this abomination Amazon produced.
The first few minutes and all those clips I have seen were more than enough for me. Shame on you Amazon!
Sorry guys, but I am not into political correctness propaganda...

As for this one-shot here:
At first I wanted to write something fluffy and happy, but it suddenly turned into this.
I think I can only write dark stuff when it comes to the LOTR ^^;.

Anyway, have fun reading this.

I am also sorry for grammer/spelling mistakes, for I translated this from german into english.

And should anyone read this, then I would appreciate feedback in the form of a comment very much.
Not only is feedback very motivating, but it also shows me that my story gets read and is not ignored.
So please don't be shy and share your thoughts with me. I won't bite you.


The burden of the Ringbearer

Frodo Baggins sat silently on a small wooden bench in the garden at Bag End that afternoon. His blue eyes observed the hustle and bustle in the Shire and a small smile tugged at his lips, which faded too quickly, however, because shadows lay over his thoughts and blocked out everything else. Just like they always did since he and the other hobbits were back in the Shire.

So much had happened in the past few months. Too much for a little hobbit like him and he didn't know how he could have managed it all. One thing was certain: without his friends, especially without Sam, he would never have been able to do all of this and would have died before they had even left the Shire.

Nine had set out on this dangerous journey, but in the end it was just him and Sam. What had become of the others, he had only learned when he awoke in Elrond's house after the eagles rescued him from the Maw of All Evil. Except for the cruel death of Boromier. He had heard about this from Farmarier, his brother, during his trip. He had wanted to keep him prisoner and hand him over to his father. Had that happened, the ring would have ended up back in the hands of evil. But that would almost have happened one way or another if it hadn't been for Sam when he had stood there in the fiery abyss of Mount Doom and the ring of power had wanted to corrupt him once and for all and make him into his slave.

There, in the land of the Dark Lord himself: Mordor...

The name alone still gave him goosebumps and almost every night he was plagued by nightmares, which let him experience the horror of his journey again and again.

And all because Bilbo had given him that ring.

No.

All because Bilbo had to find that ring.

But then he thought of the words of Galadriel. She had been right with what she had told him and Gandalf had been right with his words too. The ring would have come to him one way or the other. But now it was gone. Burned in the fires of Mount Doom, just as Elrond had said and evil was annihilated forever.

Peace had returned to Middle-earth.

Aragorn had ascended the throne of Gondor and now reigned over men as a wise and good-natured king.

Legolas had returned to Rivendell and Gimli had also returned to his people.

The fellowship had split apart and yet Frodo still felt the connection to it and it was this thought that managed to banish the shadows of the past. At least for now. But he could feel the shadows growing stronger. Night after night they gained strength, driving him to the brink of insanity and Frodo feared that one day he would be unable to withstand this madness and fall into it. Just as Bilbo had fallen for it.

Or Gollum...

When he used to listen to the stories of his dear Uncle Bilbo, when he was still a little lad, he had always dreamed of adventures himself. He too wanted to be part of a journey and do something meaningful; just like his uncle had done.

Now it had happened and it had all been so different from what he had always dreamed of. Whenever Bilbo had told him of his tales with the Fellowship of Thorin and how they drove the dragon out of the great dwarven kingdom of Erebor, it all sounded so exciting and heroic. But the reality was very different and Frodo was sure that Bilbo had left out much of his own adventure in order not to frighten him at the time.

Now he could tell his own story. A story, so full of darkness that it consumed him a little more every day.

And so he had hatched a plan. A plan, nobody knew about. And he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to tell his friends about this plan. The plan to leave Middle-earth forever and travel to Aman with the Elves...

He just couldn't stay here any longer.

This journey had changed him and he was no longer the hobbit he had once been.

Here in the Shire, no one knew what he had taken upon himself for Middle-earth, or what Sam, Merry or Pippin had done for Middle-earth, and what agony they had endured to bring peace back to this world.

No one knew that Pippin had been the servant of the Steward of Minas Tirith and what he had endured at Denethor's hand. Or what he had previously experienced together with Merry in the woods of Fangorn when they attacked Isengard together with the Ents. Or the agony he and Merry had endured when they were taken by the Urukhai. Nor did anyone know what Merry had endured, fighting so valiantly with Eowyn on the fields of the Pelennor. He had even told about Oliphants and he had bravely faced the leader of the Nazgul and thus saved Eowyn's life. And in the end, the Fellowship had stood at the Black Gate for him and Sam to face Sauron in a last, bloody battle.

Yet here in the Shire none knew of these heroic deeds and perhaps it was for the best, for the Shire had been through enough when Sauron's Ringwraiths had invaded this peaceful part of Middle-earth to look for Frodo and the ring.

Just when he thought back to these black creatures, he shuddered and his hand automatically reached for the wound on his left shoulder. A wound, inflicted by the lord of the Nazgul himself with his morgul blade. Back then, on Weathertop. Had it not been for Aragorn he would have been killed that day and the ring would have gone back to Mordor and its master and all Middle-earth would have perished.

He owed his life to this fellowship and often felt he hadn't done enough for them, even though he had risked his life for all of Middle-earth.

If only he thought back to Gandalf, who had sacrificed his life to the Fellowship, when he had challenged the Balrog of Morgoth to battle and had fallen into the shadows.

Again, a strong shudder ran through Frodo's body, as he thought he could still hear the deafening roar of the Balrog in his ears. This beast haunted his nightmares to this day. Just like the Ringwraiths. Many times he had woken up, screaming at night and their screams had only slowly left his ears, as had the thunder of hooves, which came from their black horses, which mercilessly chased him through the woods of the Shire. He has feared the darkness ever since, for he always had the feeling that one of the Nazgul would disengage from it at any second and drag him back to Mordor and torture him there, before his remains were fed to the ancient spider Shelob.

But in the end, he knew that these were all just dreams. There was no more Balrog, no more Ringwraiths, no more Shelob, no more Sauron... and also no more Gollum, who had caused him and Sam so much suffering on their journey. This traitor had gotten what he had always wanted in the end and fell into the fires of Mount Doom together with the ring of power and burned there. But at the same time, after all this, Frodo still felt something like pity for this creature that was once said to have been a hobbit and who had fallen for the ring of power. And again, he remembered the words of Gandalf when he told him that Bilbo hadn't been able to kill Gollum, as pity had held his hand back. Having met Gollum himself, Frodo could now understand Bilbo...

"Mister Frodo, there you are at last. We've been looking for you all day long!"

Frodo winced when Sam's voice suddenly invaded his ears and catapulted him back into the here and now and banished the dark thoughts on the spot and for that he was more than grateful, because on such a beautiful day he shouldn't be wasting his thoughts with what was, rather looking forward to what was yet to come, for the hobbits had a great feast planned that evening. In honor of the return of the three hobbits who had been missing for so long.

When Frodo awoke from his daydreams and set his eyes on the path before Bag End, he saw Sam, Merry and Pippin running towards him; wide smiles on their faces and their eyes sparkled with joy when they saw him. Apparently they had been looking for him for a long time. Frodo had been at Bag End all day and he had heard it when they were there that morning and knocked on his door. But he hadn't opened the door, for he wanted to be alone and think in peace, while continuing to write on the book Bilbo had bequeathed to him. Only later did he then sit in front of the door and watched the hustle and bustle of the hobbits and enjoyed the warm sun.

But seeing his friends like this, filled his heart with joy and sorrow at the same time. They didn't know what he knew and that he was planning to leave Middle-earth forever. He just couldn't tell them. At least not yet. But he was sure that the day would come.

But that day was still far away and he shook his head slightly, trying to banish these thoughts and instead focus on his friends, who had now reached him and immediately threw their arms around him.

And as they did so, a sound escaped his lips that none of them had heard in months: the sound of cheerful laughter. Which got louder, as the three boisterous hobbits swept him off the bench in their zeal and they were soon lying on the ground and burying him under them.

And while Frodo lay there in the grass and was already laughing tears of joy himself, he knew one thing for sure:

Some things would never change.

And for that he was grateful...