Disclaimer: The characters belong to Tolkien, but the girl belongs to me :)
When Sam woke, he sat up and looked around, alarmed. Where was Frodo? And what had become of that girl? He did not need to worry. Frodo was seated on a large, flat rock jutting from the hill they were on, talking to the girl, who was sitting next to him. Sam walked over to them and managed a smile.
"Good morning, Miss," he said, then nodding to him, "Frodo."
Frodo laughed, and Sam looked at him. "What is it?"
"Oh, nothing," the hobbit said. "It's just that, for a moment, I thought you were calling her Miss Frodo."
"You know," said Sam, "That's not a bad idea."
Frodo thought about it for a minute. The girl looked at him expectantly. "I guess there are stranger things than having a girl named after me," he chuckled. "Alright then, we'll call you Miss Frodo. How do you like that?"
The girl smiled in approval.
"Great," said Sam. "Now, what's for breakfast?"
There wasn't much for the hobbits to eat. They each had a wafer of lembas, and started on the next leg of their journey. The young girl lightened their heavy hearts. She would often skip off ahead of them, only to return minutes later, still fairly bursting with energy. Sam and Frodo were both tired from the trip they had made so far, but found new strength in her. She liked to hum to herself, or sing in Elvish, and sometimes Frodo could pick out the words, though he was not an expert in that language.
The closer the party came to their destination, the more dark and desolate the land became. Trees became more scraggly and were few and far between the path they made. Miss Frodo stuck close to the other hobbits now, and she did not sing anymore. No wild creatures were to be seen, though she knew they lurked in the shadows. And the shadow of Sauron drew ever nearer.
The girl could hear the Ring, and often saw it looming in her mind. It called to her, a loud, piercing hum, that was always present in her ears, though sometimes it was louder than others. At times she thought it would drive her mad, and she would reluctantly leave Frodo's side for a time to get away from it. But she never went far, for fear of what she might find.
The day came at last when the horrible gate of Mordor loomed ahead in their vision. Now the time had come to face the shadow. But things did not go exactly as Frodo had planned. Miss Frodo had left them to escape her private torment, and she had barely been gone a moment, when they were attacked.
The Ringwraiths surrounded them suddenly, coming swiftly from the shadow, and did not give the hobbits any time to fight back. From their midst came a tall rider, dressed in black, but he was no wraith. It was a man, and he was known only as the Mouth of Sauron. He snatched Frodo off the ground, and held him captive in his powerful arms. Sam cried out to his master, but before he had time to draw his sword, he was tackled to the ground by a band of Orcs that seemed to have come out of nowhere. The Ringwraiths screeched victory.
At that moment, Miss Frodo reappeared. She ran to the edge of the circle of Riders, and stopped abruptly. Frodo was taken. Frodo had the Ring. They would find it. Sauron would win.
She did not see what she could possibly do against all the evil forces before her. She could not save the hobbits. But she would not give up on the Ring. As long as that remained untouched by Sauron, there was hope for all else. But if the Ring was found, then all would be instantly lost.
Miss Frodo morphed into a falcon as fast as she could, and bolted up into the air, circling the Mouth of Sauron. Frodo was struggling to get away from him, but he didn't stand a chance. 'Save your energy,' she thought to him. 'You'll need it later, if we ever get out of this mess.' He went limp.
She knew that Frodo kept the Ring on a chain around his neck. The top button of his shirt was undone, and from her position she could barely see a metallic glint. Mithril. But on that mail coat hung something much more valuable. She folded her wings and dove for it.
The Mouth of Sauron saw her coming, and turned his horse to ride away. She was too quick. Flaring her wings to stop seconds before she slammed into Frodo, she reached out with her talons, and felt for the Ring. Its golden circle met her sharp feet, and she pulled, breaking it off its chain and tearing it free. The Ringwraiths screeched; the Mouth of Sauron swung at her; and she beat her way back into the sky, flying up until she could no longer be seen by human eyes. She dared a glance back down at them, and saw that they had taken off for Mordor. So, they had not seen what she had in her talons. If they had, she was sure, they would have shot her in a flash. As it was, she guessed they did not really may much heed to her at all; their real 'prize' they had obtained, the two hobbits. But what would they do when they did not find the Ring there?
Miss Frodo flew on, away from Mordor, until the weight of the Ring was too much and forced her to land. She shot to the ground, and changed into a hobbit. Carrying the Ring would be easier as a hobbit, she thought. But she could not keep carrying it away from the place it had been initially heading! She thought it ironic how both the Fellowship and Sauron had wanted the Ring to go to basically the same place, but for a different purpose. 'I cannot keep it away from Mordor forever,' she thought. 'Eventually, I must go back, and find Frodo--he will know what to do then.' A terrifying thought occurred to her. 'That is, if he's still alive.'
Exhaustion overtook her, and she flopped to the ground. She curled up beneath the shelter of a boulder, and went to sleep, the Ring held tightly in her clenched fist. It haunted her dreams, and played with her mind. Her sleep was far from restful.