A/N: I need to clear up some of the time issues in this story. I think I may be confusing some with how these chapters are set up. Like a good West Wing episode, it jumps back in forth with time. In this chapter, Gandalf's arrival in Minas Tirith is much later than the event that follows it, the quiet moments with Frodo and Bilbo. The last chapter left off with Pippin and Sam riding from Crickhollow, which in this series will be dated as the 12th of October, but the scene before it, Gandalf riding off to Minas Tirith, takes place later, on the 14th of October. If you follow closely, you'll understand the passing of time throughout the sections. (And, like a good West Wing fan, I've learned how to keep track of days during episodes that skip around with flashbacks and the sort.) If you have a question, please ask me, and I'll clear up any timing questions you may have!

(4)



Gandalf reached the gates of Minas Tirith. At once, he was received, and rode quickly up to the King's palace.

"You wish to speak to the King?" asked one of the men at the door.

"It is a matter of utmost importance," Gandalf said quickly, needing every minute.

"Come with me, then." Gandalf followed this short man, until they reached the King's chamber.

"Your Majesty, there is a Gandalf here to see you and he says it is a matter of utmost importance," he said.

"Then let him in!" came the voice of Aragorn from inside.

The man opened the door. He bowed as Gandalf entered, and shut the door behind him.

"Gandalf, what brings you here?" asked Aragorn. He could see the look in Gandalf's eyes, the one of sadness.

"Aragorn, I have bad news."

"Well, friend, please go on! You're making me nervous," Aragorn pleaded.

"It's mainly about Frodo. You remember the incident of Weathertop, of course." Aragorn nodded. He already didn't like the sound of this.

"On October 6, Merry and Pippin went on a visit to Bag End. When they arrived they found Frodo unconscious. They stayed with him the whole day, for Sam was out on one of his trips around the Shire, tending to various gardens and trees and so forth. Frodo didn't get any better, and was worse in the morning. They decided to get Frodo to Rivendell, which was a very wise decision. Merry took the task of bringing him, and Pippin got the task of finding Sam and bringing him to Rivendell as soon as possible. Merry got Frodo to Rivendell in a week. Elrond has looked at him, and the diagnosis isn't good. The knife wound he received hadn't been cleaned out properly, and there was some remnant of the poison in the wound. It had just been taking its time to act. He's very ill, Aragorn, and Elrond, and I myself are afraid he won't last long. We are trying to reassemble the Fellowship, in case-in case any goodbyes are needed." Gandalf said the last words with a distinct pain in his voice.

"I must come at once, then. Give me just a moment, and I'll be ready to go," said Aragorn, visibly shaken by the news. He left the room and began calling for various people.

Gandalf, in the meanwhile, stayed back in the room. He was hunched over more, and was looking more an old man as every waking day passed. His anxiety for Frodo was growing each moment, and he began to wonder what the poison of the wound might do to Frodo before he finally gave in to the probably welcoming darkness. He had also seen fear in Aragorn's eyes. Underneath, there also were signs of self-hatred. Aragorn had been the one to tend the wound at Weathertop, and for the fortnight that had passed between there and the Fords of Brunien. Had Gandalf known it, it was quite like the same self-loathing Sam was feeling, only for quite a different reason altogether.

When Aragorn returned, they left the King's court in silence. They took Shadowfax and the fastest horse in Minas Tirith, and rode off, still uttering no word, just caught up in their own emotion, and their own feelings.



Bilbo sat alone beside his nephew's bedside. From all the looks he had received from various Elves, Elrond, and even Gandalf himself, they all believed that Frodo lay on his deathbed. Bilbo refused to believe it, not even for a moment.

Frodo was strong, and his desire to live was great. Bilbo could not believe that Frodo could die from this. He refused to.

But Frodo's hand was so cold to his touch. His face was a mask of pain, and he constantly shivered, or was just shaking. Bilbo couldn't stand to see his nephew in so much pain.

I wasn't supposed to outlive him, Bilbo thought sadly.

He studied the coloring of Frodo's young face. It was a deep red color, and as Frodo twisted and turned, trickles of sweat rolled down his forehead. His curly hair was all matted, and Bilbo brushed it away as had been done so many times before.

Frodo moaned in his sleep. Bilbo tried to resist the tears threatening, but found it of no avail. He tightened his grip on Frodo's arm as the tears fell freely down his face.

Bilbo also was experiencing his own feelings of self-loathing. For it had been he who found the Ring, and he who kept it, and he who passed it along to Frodo, and due to that, Frodo had been in exile, stabbed, and forced to make his way through the Land of the Shadows itself to destroy it. And yet, there was some part of him, some tiny part that said that perhaps it had been a good thing for all that the Ring had been passed to them. Apparently, Hobbits tended to fade fast, and Frodo had been resolved to not let the Ring fall to evil hands. Yet in Bilbo's mind, that did not make up for all the hardships that had befallen Frodo.

Merry poked his head in, and watched Bilbo as he wiped away the sweat on Frodo's brow, and held his hand ever so tightly. A lump formed in Merry's throat as he watched Frodo, one of his closest friends, struggle so with pain.

"Merry, come walk with me," said a quiet voice from behind. Merry turned and found Elrond standing there, a sad smile on his face. Merry looked once more at Frodo, sighed, swallowed his lump, and walked in silence with Elrond, not knowing where the wise Elf was leading him.



Legolas and Gimli rode swiftly on the road that would lead them to the hidden valley of Rivendell. Through Elrond's Elves, they had found out about Frodo's wounds quickly, and had gotten on their way immediately. They were expecting to be traveling for a week, going as fast as Legolas' horse would allow. (Gimli, as expected, was riding behind Legolas on the same horse.)

They were silent, for they knew not what to say at the moment. Each was worried with their thoughts, and neither knew what to say to other, for once.

"How do you suppose everyone else is taking it?" asked Gimli, at length. The silence was becoming unbearable to him, and making Legolas talk would do a little good for both of them.

"What you'd expect, Gimli. Though I suppose taking it worse would have to be poor Bilbo."

"You're right, of course. And I do hope Gandalf and Aragorn will hurry. If something were to happen, I shouldn't like it to without them."

"And you're right, too. And that Elf said Pippin was still in the Shire, as far as they knew, looking for Sam. I do hope they hurry, too."

Legolas and Gimli were silent once more. Though maybe the lack of words was not the main reason. Legolas could feel Gimli struggle to hold back his tears, as Gimli's grip on him was tightening.

"Gimli, it's okay," Legolas tried, maybe in vain, to get the Dwarf to let it out.

"He's become very dear to me, you know. I mean, he was the one to-to save us all." Gimli had barely gotten out the last few words when the tears finally came. Legolas felt them on the back of his cloak, and somehow felt relieved for his friend. It wasn't easy to make a Dwarf cry, so they say, and Frodo must have had a great impact on his life to make Gimli do such a thing.

Legolas tried to turn his mind to happier things, but found it impossible. So he settled on riding in silence, and just wishing for the best to come of things.



"Sam, you've really got to stop that," Pippin reprimanded Sam, for Sam was once more loudly yelling at himself for 'this whole blasted mess'.

"You do realize that this would have happened, had you been there or not?" Pippin asked him, as he got no reply to his previous statement.

"Mr. Pippin, please just stop. You're not going to make me feel any better," Sam said dully, turning away from Pippin.

"That's it!" yelled Pippin, to the surprise of Sam and himself as well. "You couldn't have prevented it, nor would have made it any better had you stayed at Bag End. Frodo would still be ill, Sam! Frodo was expecting Merry and I to come that day, we had been planning on it for some time, for we hadn't seen him for a while and wanted to catch up. You're a fool if you think anything would have made it better, save the wisdom of Elrond alone." Pippin's voice had trailed off at the end. He didn't know why, maybe it was his stress over the whole situation that made him do it, but Sam's constant self-hating had finally set off a tirade.

Sam's face took on a hurt expression, and he almost shrank back from Pippin, it seemed. Pippin sensed that, too.

"Sam, I-I'm sorry. It's just. you've got to stop bullying yourself. I'm stressed, you're stressed, everyone is stressed, and I didn't mean for it to sound harsh, if that's what you thought. But it's the truth," Pippin explained, trying to apologize to Sam. Pippin really hadn't meant to yell, but something inside had been set off, and he ended up taking it out on Sam.

Sam considered him for a moment, looking Pippin in the eyes. Finally, he spoke. "I understand, Mr. Pippin. I'm not mad, but. you need to understand my commitment to Mr. Frodo."

"I do understand it, Sam, and I'm not trying to tell you how you should be feeling right now. Just don't get that mad at yourself. It won't do you, or me, any good."

Sam saw the wisdom in Pippin's words. As he watched Pippin, he realized that even Pippin had changed since the War.

Pippin had almost grown up too quickly. After all, he was in his later tweens, and yet he had matured to the point of an older Hobbit. His words, at times, were very wise, and not nearly as brash as they had once been, though there still were plenty of times where Pippin acted just as young, and younger even, than when he first left Hobbiton that one day, to begin the journey of a lifetime.

"Mr. Pippin?"

Pippin looked over at Sam. Sam now seemed to have a smile on his face, well, as happy of one as you could get at a time like this one.

"Yes?"

"I'll try not to hate myself so much."

Pippin returned the smile. Those words were all Pippin needed to hear that night.



TBC

Another A/N: That chapter was a little longer than the previous three, I think. Anyway, thanks to all the faithful people who have reviewed this story! Keep them coming, I'd love to know what everyone thinks of this! (It goes for my other stories as well ;)