Author's Notes: Here we go! Sorry this took so long; my plan is to try
and wrap up the fic this weekend, within about three to five chapters.
However, before the final chapters are posted, I will be posting more from
"Caradhras" as well as the opening chapters from a new fic: those who have
read "Mithril" may recall Frodo's memories of Bilbo nursing him through a
bad bout of bronchitis during his tween years, and that will begin in just
a few days; I've been working on it. :) Another Caradhras-setting piece
will begin ere long as well, though for the next several days I'm likely to
concentrate my efforts into these two or three. Thanks for your patience!
:)
Please forgive me for not reproducing the story of "Riddles in the Dark" in its entirety here: I don't think there's quite any substitute for reading it as Tolkien presents it in _The Hobbit_, and even he does not reproduce Bilbo's retelling of it in full at any point. I think it would kill some of the effect if we knew precisely what Bilbo said; consequently, I've chosen not to present the entire retelling, though as you can see, Frodo is clearly getting the full tale. I do hope this won't upset anyone too terribly. :)
For permission to reproduce, please contact frodobaggins@frodo.com
DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and story of The Lord of the Rings are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and consequently of the Tolkien Estate, with select rights by Tolkien Enterprises. This piece appears purely as fanfiction and is not intended to claim ownership of Tolkien's work in any way. Please e-mail me if you have concerns.
SHADOWS IN THE DARKNESS
Chapter Fifteen: Riddles in the Dark
"Now, Bilbo? What about now?"
Having finished his breakfast obediently, followed by a bath and a nap, Frodo was trying to work his way through elevenses: Bilbo had brought him a dish of applesauce, with cinnamon toast cut into stick-like rectangles to dip in it, and a cup of weak tea sweetened with honey. Admittedly it did smell and taste wonderful, but the tweenager still found the effort of eating rather tiring, and after having been put off on the story through soap, water, fresh night-shirt, fresh bedding, nap, and meal preparation, he was nearly ready to burst with curiousity.
"Perhaps. . . ." Bilbo laid a gentle hand on the lad's forehead, then bent forward to kiss it thoughtfully, as Primula had done when her child was a small one in her arms. "Still running a bit of a fever, my boy. . .promise you won't excite yourself, now, and mind you recall what I said about this being a secret!"
Frodo nodded, swirling toast in the applesauce and taking a careful bite. "I promise. . .I'll be quiet and eat, honestly."
"Good, good. . . ." For several moments Bilbo looked about nervously, at last rising and going to the door. For a moment Frodo feared he would leave, but instead he turned the key in the lock, barring entry from the hall. Proceeding quickly to the window, the elder hobbit closed the shutters, securing them in turn. Frodo frowned a little, but said nothing, despite his wonderings.
Is it really so secret as all that? he pondered.
"Now, then! Perhaps you recall our escape from the horrible goblins of the Misty Mountains - " Bilbo began, settling himself on the bed beside his young charge, supervising the eating process with hawklike attention. "They had crept up on us, of course, after our escape, and seized Dori, who was carrying me, from behind, and I fell - rolled all the way down into the darkness, and hit my head upon an exceptionally hard rock, and fell unconscious. . . ."
If Bilbo's tale was intended to fascinate the young hobbit into staying awake and comfortable long enough to get a bit of breakfast down, it served its purpose well: Frodo listened with wide-eyed fascination, continuing to eat his cinnamon toast and applesauce, with occasional prodding and assistance from his watchful guardian.
"And so I escaped, with the ring of course, though without my nice brass buttons, not that the ring wasn't of far more use to a burglar! You should have seen their faces, my lad!" Laughing, Bilbo reached into his trousers- pocket, taking out something on a fine chain and holding it up for Frodo to see.
It was quite a plain ring, really. . .just a simple gold band, but very pretty to look at, though Frodo noticed that Bilbo's expression tensed slightly, and even Frodo's brief visual inspection seemed to make him somewhat. . .uneasy. After a moment, the elder hobbit returned the ring to his pocket, a tight-lipped smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"That's one of my treasures from my travels, my boy. . .and of everything I have, the most precious to me, I suppose."
Frodo nodded, yawning a little. He was tired, and though he had immensely enjoyed the story, so unlike what he'd heard Bilbo tell others of the escape, he still felt feverish and ill, and wanted to rest again. Bilbo apparently noticed, smiling a little as he stroked back the young one's curls, bending to kiss the damp forehead.
"Sleep now, Frodo. You need plenty of rest to help you feel better. . .and when you wake, perhaps another story, if you like, and some lunch for you if you're feeling up to it. Roast chicken, perhaps, and carrots mashed up with ginger, to help keep your stomach settled. . .or some nice soup if you'd prefer. Is there anything else I can do for you before I tuck you in?"
Shaking his head, Frodo tried to keep his eyes open, with little success. The last thing he remembered from waking was Bilbo's gentle hand tucking the covers over his shoulders, smoothing everything before putting a fresh compress on the his forehead. It felt blessedly cool, and the little patient felt himself falling at once into a comfortable sleep.
But he began to dream. . .and the room suddenly seemed cold. . . .
~To Be Continued~
Please forgive me for not reproducing the story of "Riddles in the Dark" in its entirety here: I don't think there's quite any substitute for reading it as Tolkien presents it in _The Hobbit_, and even he does not reproduce Bilbo's retelling of it in full at any point. I think it would kill some of the effect if we knew precisely what Bilbo said; consequently, I've chosen not to present the entire retelling, though as you can see, Frodo is clearly getting the full tale. I do hope this won't upset anyone too terribly. :)
For permission to reproduce, please contact frodobaggins@frodo.com
DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and story of The Lord of the Rings are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and consequently of the Tolkien Estate, with select rights by Tolkien Enterprises. This piece appears purely as fanfiction and is not intended to claim ownership of Tolkien's work in any way. Please e-mail me if you have concerns.
SHADOWS IN THE DARKNESS
Chapter Fifteen: Riddles in the Dark
"Now, Bilbo? What about now?"
Having finished his breakfast obediently, followed by a bath and a nap, Frodo was trying to work his way through elevenses: Bilbo had brought him a dish of applesauce, with cinnamon toast cut into stick-like rectangles to dip in it, and a cup of weak tea sweetened with honey. Admittedly it did smell and taste wonderful, but the tweenager still found the effort of eating rather tiring, and after having been put off on the story through soap, water, fresh night-shirt, fresh bedding, nap, and meal preparation, he was nearly ready to burst with curiousity.
"Perhaps. . . ." Bilbo laid a gentle hand on the lad's forehead, then bent forward to kiss it thoughtfully, as Primula had done when her child was a small one in her arms. "Still running a bit of a fever, my boy. . .promise you won't excite yourself, now, and mind you recall what I said about this being a secret!"
Frodo nodded, swirling toast in the applesauce and taking a careful bite. "I promise. . .I'll be quiet and eat, honestly."
"Good, good. . . ." For several moments Bilbo looked about nervously, at last rising and going to the door. For a moment Frodo feared he would leave, but instead he turned the key in the lock, barring entry from the hall. Proceeding quickly to the window, the elder hobbit closed the shutters, securing them in turn. Frodo frowned a little, but said nothing, despite his wonderings.
Is it really so secret as all that? he pondered.
"Now, then! Perhaps you recall our escape from the horrible goblins of the Misty Mountains - " Bilbo began, settling himself on the bed beside his young charge, supervising the eating process with hawklike attention. "They had crept up on us, of course, after our escape, and seized Dori, who was carrying me, from behind, and I fell - rolled all the way down into the darkness, and hit my head upon an exceptionally hard rock, and fell unconscious. . . ."
If Bilbo's tale was intended to fascinate the young hobbit into staying awake and comfortable long enough to get a bit of breakfast down, it served its purpose well: Frodo listened with wide-eyed fascination, continuing to eat his cinnamon toast and applesauce, with occasional prodding and assistance from his watchful guardian.
"And so I escaped, with the ring of course, though without my nice brass buttons, not that the ring wasn't of far more use to a burglar! You should have seen their faces, my lad!" Laughing, Bilbo reached into his trousers- pocket, taking out something on a fine chain and holding it up for Frodo to see.
It was quite a plain ring, really. . .just a simple gold band, but very pretty to look at, though Frodo noticed that Bilbo's expression tensed slightly, and even Frodo's brief visual inspection seemed to make him somewhat. . .uneasy. After a moment, the elder hobbit returned the ring to his pocket, a tight-lipped smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"That's one of my treasures from my travels, my boy. . .and of everything I have, the most precious to me, I suppose."
Frodo nodded, yawning a little. He was tired, and though he had immensely enjoyed the story, so unlike what he'd heard Bilbo tell others of the escape, he still felt feverish and ill, and wanted to rest again. Bilbo apparently noticed, smiling a little as he stroked back the young one's curls, bending to kiss the damp forehead.
"Sleep now, Frodo. You need plenty of rest to help you feel better. . .and when you wake, perhaps another story, if you like, and some lunch for you if you're feeling up to it. Roast chicken, perhaps, and carrots mashed up with ginger, to help keep your stomach settled. . .or some nice soup if you'd prefer. Is there anything else I can do for you before I tuck you in?"
Shaking his head, Frodo tried to keep his eyes open, with little success. The last thing he remembered from waking was Bilbo's gentle hand tucking the covers over his shoulders, smoothing everything before putting a fresh compress on the his forehead. It felt blessedly cool, and the little patient felt himself falling at once into a comfortable sleep.
But he began to dream. . .and the room suddenly seemed cold. . . .
~To Be Continued~