Author's Note: Set as somewhat AU during the approach and ascent of
Caradhras, this story is written in alternating viewpoint, shifting between
Aragorn and Frodo; it should be fairly easy to tell which is which. This
chapter returns us to Aragorn's point of view.
While I'm sure you all know this, as a disclaimer I must nonetheless add that all medical treatment information is developed purely for fictitious use and should not be attempted in actual real life practice. Please consult your health care professional for medical advice.
I will continue this story for one more chapter before its close. At that point, I may focus on "Counterpane" for a little before posting my next during-Quest fic, which I will most likely beta on FrodoHealers as well as the guessing-game participants. My next update will most likely be the next chapter of "Counterpane" (which I'm hoping will be in the next few days. . .I'm interested in doing slightly longer chapters there), followed by the promised piece delivered early to those who played the guessing-game. BTW, I *will* still be sending that promised special snippet to those who participated in the guessing on fanfiction.net. . .just trying to dig up all the e-ddresses. :) And, as always, thank you all so very much for your wonderful patience, encouragement, e-mails, and reviews!
For permission to reproduce, please contact frodobaggins@frodo.com or frodoatbagend@yahoo.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. This is a non-slash fiction: no slash or sexual connotations are implied or intended. While Tolkien's characters are Tolkien's, my original creations reflect my work as well, and I ask that my original characters and unique points be respected, not reused. Thanks!
IMPORTANT: I'm having trouble getting this to show up as anything but one long paragraph. Presently I'm trying to fix it; it's rather disconcerting given that I've never had this problem before, and haven't changed formatting or anything. Please pardon. . .if it's showing up that way again, rest assured I'm working on it. . . .
CARADHRAS
Chapter Fifteen: Dark Decisions
"And so. Our course is laid: to press forward, or to retreat."
I cannot help but frown at Gandalf's words. "Either way is to press forward, Gandalf. You know that. We cannot return to Rivendell, and there wait until the end. I cannot deny that further attempts to cross Caradhras will endanger the Ringbearer. But Moria is damp and chill, and that is not considerably better."
"Still, we must decide between the two evils."
Nodding, I glance back toward the fire. Boromir is, fortunately, occupied in amusing Merry and Pippin with tales of his journey from Gondor to Elrond's house. Sam snores contentedly, at rest only due to a sleeping draught I added to his supper - a trick, yes, but in exhaustion he would be unable to help his master, and exhaustion he was nearing from refusal to rest. Gimli stands just outside, perched on watch, while Legolas remains at his own post, cradling Frodo in his arms, close to the fire. Soft and sweet is the melody I can just make out, recognising it as a song of Thranduil's elves. . .some trace of his home, shared with another wanderer. It seems to calm the little one, though, who sleeps through the crisis, the fever giving way to exhaustion. Yet that we can manage: I will carry him, and with continued care he will survive. We can tarry no longer, and for this reason Gandalf and I sit alone, discussing our course in whispers.
"The frying-pan or the fire." A slight chuckle escapes me at the thought. "That's how Bilbo would put it, you know."
"Yes."
We both fall silent, the wind whistling grimly outside, a menacing sound to chill the blood. One thing and one only have we agreed upon in this: we must try to reach Lothlorien, if we can. There we could be safe for a short time, enough for Frodo to have rest, warmth, and proper nourishment. I am certain that the healers of Lorien could be convinced to see if there is anything that can be done to help strengthen him as well. But I am anxious to avoid the path of Moria if we can: I have an ill feeling about it. There is a darkness that overshadows my spirit at the thought.
And there is something else.
Frodo started at something in his sleep, murmured in fright about Gollum. . .and I would think it delirium had I, too, not heard a hiss in the darkness.
It unsettles me greatly. We have found nothing, seen nothing on our watches, and Boromir and I canvassed everything of the surrounding rocks that we could. Gimli and Legolas then did the same.
Nothing.
And yet I cannot help feeling that he is there. . .waiting in the shadows.
"Aragorn?"
Looking up at Gandalf, I find myself struck by a horrible sense of. . .of emptiness. An image of flame in darkness, though I cannot make out the source.
"We must attempt to cross Caradhras. We have come this far. . .it is no use turning back if we can finish the crossing. And the air may benefit Frodo more than the foul, closed airs of Moria."
He nods. . .but from the darkness in his eyes, I know the truth. This is not the last discussion we shall have of the matter.
And somehow my heart is at once gladdened and dimmed by that thought.
~To Be Continued~
While I'm sure you all know this, as a disclaimer I must nonetheless add that all medical treatment information is developed purely for fictitious use and should not be attempted in actual real life practice. Please consult your health care professional for medical advice.
I will continue this story for one more chapter before its close. At that point, I may focus on "Counterpane" for a little before posting my next during-Quest fic, which I will most likely beta on FrodoHealers as well as the guessing-game participants. My next update will most likely be the next chapter of "Counterpane" (which I'm hoping will be in the next few days. . .I'm interested in doing slightly longer chapters there), followed by the promised piece delivered early to those who played the guessing-game. BTW, I *will* still be sending that promised special snippet to those who participated in the guessing on fanfiction.net. . .just trying to dig up all the e-ddresses. :) And, as always, thank you all so very much for your wonderful patience, encouragement, e-mails, and reviews!
For permission to reproduce, please contact frodobaggins@frodo.com or frodoatbagend@yahoo.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. This is a non-slash fiction: no slash or sexual connotations are implied or intended. While Tolkien's characters are Tolkien's, my original creations reflect my work as well, and I ask that my original characters and unique points be respected, not reused. Thanks!
IMPORTANT: I'm having trouble getting this to show up as anything but one long paragraph. Presently I'm trying to fix it; it's rather disconcerting given that I've never had this problem before, and haven't changed formatting or anything. Please pardon. . .if it's showing up that way again, rest assured I'm working on it. . . .
CARADHRAS
Chapter Fifteen: Dark Decisions
"And so. Our course is laid: to press forward, or to retreat."
I cannot help but frown at Gandalf's words. "Either way is to press forward, Gandalf. You know that. We cannot return to Rivendell, and there wait until the end. I cannot deny that further attempts to cross Caradhras will endanger the Ringbearer. But Moria is damp and chill, and that is not considerably better."
"Still, we must decide between the two evils."
Nodding, I glance back toward the fire. Boromir is, fortunately, occupied in amusing Merry and Pippin with tales of his journey from Gondor to Elrond's house. Sam snores contentedly, at rest only due to a sleeping draught I added to his supper - a trick, yes, but in exhaustion he would be unable to help his master, and exhaustion he was nearing from refusal to rest. Gimli stands just outside, perched on watch, while Legolas remains at his own post, cradling Frodo in his arms, close to the fire. Soft and sweet is the melody I can just make out, recognising it as a song of Thranduil's elves. . .some trace of his home, shared with another wanderer. It seems to calm the little one, though, who sleeps through the crisis, the fever giving way to exhaustion. Yet that we can manage: I will carry him, and with continued care he will survive. We can tarry no longer, and for this reason Gandalf and I sit alone, discussing our course in whispers.
"The frying-pan or the fire." A slight chuckle escapes me at the thought. "That's how Bilbo would put it, you know."
"Yes."
We both fall silent, the wind whistling grimly outside, a menacing sound to chill the blood. One thing and one only have we agreed upon in this: we must try to reach Lothlorien, if we can. There we could be safe for a short time, enough for Frodo to have rest, warmth, and proper nourishment. I am certain that the healers of Lorien could be convinced to see if there is anything that can be done to help strengthen him as well. But I am anxious to avoid the path of Moria if we can: I have an ill feeling about it. There is a darkness that overshadows my spirit at the thought.
And there is something else.
Frodo started at something in his sleep, murmured in fright about Gollum. . .and I would think it delirium had I, too, not heard a hiss in the darkness.
It unsettles me greatly. We have found nothing, seen nothing on our watches, and Boromir and I canvassed everything of the surrounding rocks that we could. Gimli and Legolas then did the same.
Nothing.
And yet I cannot help feeling that he is there. . .waiting in the shadows.
"Aragorn?"
Looking up at Gandalf, I find myself struck by a horrible sense of. . .of emptiness. An image of flame in darkness, though I cannot make out the source.
"We must attempt to cross Caradhras. We have come this far. . .it is no use turning back if we can finish the crossing. And the air may benefit Frodo more than the foul, closed airs of Moria."
He nods. . .but from the darkness in his eyes, I know the truth. This is not the last discussion we shall have of the matter.
And somehow my heart is at once gladdened and dimmed by that thought.
~To Be Continued~
